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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Tracks of a Rolling Stone, by Henry J. Coke
+
+
+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: Tracks of a Rolling Stone
+
+
+Author: Henry J. Coke
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 8, 2012  [eBook #497]
+[This file was first posted on February 24, 1996]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRACKS OF A ROLLING STONE***
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1905 Smith, Elder, & Co. edition by David Price,
+email ccx074@pglaf.org.  Second proofed by Margaret Price.
+
+                 [Picture: Photograph of Henry John Coke]
+
+
+
+
+
+                                  TRACKS
+                                    OF
+                             A ROLLING STONE
+
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                  BY THE
+                         HONOURABLE HENRY J. COKE
+
+                                AUTHOR OF
+        ‘A RIDE OVER THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS’ ‘CREEDS OF THE DAY’ ETC.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                             WITH A PORTRAIT
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                             _SECOND EDITION_
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                  LONDON
+                  SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE
+                                   1905
+
+                          [All rights reserved]
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                    TO
+                            MY DAUGHTER SYBIL
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.
+
+
+THE First Edition of this book was written, from beginning to end, in the
+short space of five months, without the aid of diary or notes, beyond
+those cited as such from a former work.
+
+The Author, having no expectation that his reminiscences would be
+received with the kind indulgence of which this Second Edition is the
+proof, with diffidence ventured to tell so many tales connected with his
+own unimportant life as he has done.  Emboldened by the reception his
+‘Tracks’ have met with, he now adds a few stories which he trusts may
+further amuse its readers.
+
+_June_ 1905.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+WE know more of the early days of the Pyramids or of ancient Babylon than
+we do of our own.  The Stone age, the dragons of the prime, are not more
+remote from us than is our earliest childhood.  It is not so long ago for
+any of us; and yet, our memories of it are but veiled spectres wandering
+in the mazes of some foregone existence.
+
+Are we really trailing clouds of glory from afar?  Or are our
+‘forgettings’ of the outer Eden only?  Or, setting poetry aside, are they
+perhaps the quickening germs of all past heredity—an epitome of our race
+and its descent?  At any rate _then_, if ever, our lives are such stuff
+as dreams are made of.  There is no connected story of events, thoughts,
+acts, or feelings.  We try in vain to re-collect; but the secrets of the
+grave are not more inviolable,—for the beginnings, like the endings, of
+life are lost in darkness.
+
+It is very difficult to affix a date to any relic of that dim past.  We
+may have a distinct remembrance of some pleasure, some pain, some fright,
+some accident, but the vivid does not help us to chronicle with accuracy.
+A year or two makes a vast difference in our ability.  We can remember
+well enough when we donned the ‘_cauda virilis_,’ but not when we left
+off petticoats.
+
+The first remembrance to which I can correctly tack a date is the death
+of George IV.  I was between three and four years old.  My recollection
+of the fact is perfectly distinct—distinct by its association with other
+facts, then far more weighty to me than the death of a king.
+
+I was watching with rapture, for the first time, the spinning of a
+peg-top by one of the grooms in the stable yard, when the coachman, who
+had just driven my mother home, announced the historic news.  In a few
+minutes four or five servants—maids and men—came running to the stables
+to learn particulars, and the peg-top, to my sorrow, had to be abandoned
+for gossip and flirtation.  We were a long way from street criers—indeed,
+quite out of town.  My father’s house was in Kensington, a little further
+west than the present museum.  It was completely surrounded by fields and
+hedges.  I mention the fact merely to show to what age definite memory
+can be authentically assigned.  Doubtless we have much earlier
+remembrances, though we must reckon these by days, or by months at the
+outside.  The relativity of the reckoning would seem to make Time indeed
+a ‘Form of Thought.’
+
+Two or three reminiscences of my childhood have stuck to me; some of them
+on account of their comicality.  I was taken to a children’s ball at St.
+James’s Palace.  In my mind’s eye I have but one distinct vision of it.
+I cannot see the crowd—there was nothing to distinguish that from what I
+have so often seen since; nor the court dresses, nor the soldiers even,
+who always attract a child’s attention in the streets; but I see a raised
+dais on which were two thrones.  William IV. sat on one, Queen Adelaide
+on the other.  I cannot say whether we were marched past in turn, or how
+I came there.  But I remember the look of the king in his naval uniform.
+I remember his white kerseymere breeches, and pink silk stockings, and
+buckled shoes.  He took me between his knees, and asked, ‘Well, what are
+you going to be, my little man?’
+
+‘A sailor,’ said I, with brazen simplicity.
+
+‘Going to avenge the death of Nelson—eh?  Fond o’ sugar-plums?’
+
+‘Ye-es,’ said I, taking a mental inventory of stars and anchor buttons.
+
+Upon this, he fetched from the depths of his waistcoat pocket a capacious
+gold box, and opened it with a tap, as though he were about to offer me a
+pinch of snuff.  ‘There’s for you,’ said he.
+
+I helped myself, unawed by the situation, and with my small fist
+clutching the bonbons, was passed on to Queen Adelaide.  She gave me a
+kiss, for form’s sake, I thought; and I scuttled back to my mother.
+
+But here followed the shocking part of the _enfant terrible’s_ adventure.
+Not quite sure of Her Majesty’s identity—I had never heard there was a
+Queen—I naïvely asked my mother, in a very audible stage-whisper, ‘Who is
+the old lady with—?’  My mother dragged me off the instant she had made
+her curtsey.  She had a quick sense of humour; and, judging from her
+laughter, when she told her story to another lady in the supper room, I
+fancied I had said or done something very funny.  I was rather
+disconcerted at being seriously admonished, and told I must never again
+comment upon the breath of ladies who condescended to kiss, or to speak
+to, me.
+
+While we lived at Kensington, Lord Anglesey used often to pay my mother a
+visit.  She had told me the story of the battle of Waterloo, in which my
+Uncle George—6th Lord Albemarle—had taken part; and related how Lord
+Anglesey had lost a leg there, and how one of his legs was made of cork.
+Lord Anglesey was a great dandy.  The cut of the Paget hat was an
+heirloom for the next generation or two, and the gallant Marquis’ boots
+and tightly-strapped trousers were patterns of polish and precision.  The
+limp was perceptible; but of which leg, was, in spite of careful
+investigation, beyond my diagnosis.  His presence provoked my curiosity,
+till one fine day it became too strong for resistance.  While he was
+busily engaged in conversation with my mother, I, watching for the
+chance, sidled up to his chair, and as soon as he looked away, rammed my
+heel on to his toes.  They were his toes.  And considering the jump and
+the oath which instantly responded to my test, I am persuaded they were
+abnormally tender ones.  They might have been made of corns, certainly
+not of cork.
+
+Another discovery I made about this period was, for me at least, a
+‘record’: it happened at Quidenham—my grandfather the 4th Lord
+Albemarle’s place.
+
+Some excursion was afoot, which needed an early breakfast.  When this was
+half over, one married couple were missing.  My grandfather called me to
+him (I was playing with another small boy in one of the window bays).
+‘Go and tell Lady Maria, with my love,’ said he, ‘that we shall start in
+half an hour.  Stop, stop a minute.  Be sure you knock at the door.’  I
+obeyed orders—I knocked at the door, but failed to wait for an answer.  I
+entered without it.  And what did I behold?  Lady Maria was still in bed;
+and by the side of Lady M. was, very naturally, Lady M.’s husband, also
+in bed and fast asleep.  At first I could hardly believe my senses.  It
+was within the range of my experience that boys of my age occasionally
+slept in the same bed.  But that a grown up man should sleep in the same
+bed with his wife was quite beyond my notion of the fitness of things.  I
+was so staggered, so long in taking in this astounding novelty, that I
+could not at first deliver my grandfathers message.  The moment I had
+done so, I rushed back to the breakfast room, and in a loud voice
+proclaimed to the company what I had seen.  My tale produced all the
+effect I had anticipated, but mainly in the shape of amusement.  One
+wag—my uncle Henry Keppel—asked for details, gravely declaring he could
+hardly credit my statement.  Every one, however, seemed convinced by the
+circumstantial nature of my evidence when I positively asserted that
+their heads were not even at opposite ends of the bed, but side by side
+upon the same pillow.
+
+A still greater soldier than Lord Anglesey used to come to Holkham every
+year, a great favourite of my father’s; this was Lord Lynedoch.  My
+earliest recollections of him owe their vividness to three accidents—in
+the logical sense of the term: his silky milk-white locks, his Spanish
+servant who wore earrings—and whom, by the way, I used to confound with
+Courvoisier, often there at the same time with his master Lord William
+Russell, for the murder of whom he was hanged, as all the world knows—and
+his fox terrier Nettle, which, as a special favour, I was allowed to feed
+with Abernethy biscuits.
+
+He was at Longford, my present home, on a visit to my father in 1835,
+when, one evening after dinner, the two old gentlemen—no one else being
+present but myself—sitting in armchairs over the fire, finishing their
+bottle of port, Lord Lynedoch told the wonderful story of his adventures
+during the siege of Mantua by the French, in 1796.  For brevity’s sake,
+it were better perhaps to give the outline in the words of Alison.  ‘It
+was high time the Imperialists should advance to the relief of this
+fortress, which was now reduced to the last extremity from want of
+provisions.  At a council of war held in the end of December, it was
+decided that it was indispensable that instant intelligence should be
+sent to Alvinzi of their desperate situation.  An English officer,
+attached to the garrison, volunteered to perform the perilous mission,
+which he executed with equal courage and success.  He set out, disguised
+as a peasant, from Mantua on December 29, at nightfall in the midst of a
+deep fall of snow, eluded the vigilance of the French patrols, and, after
+surmounting a thousand hardships and dangers, arrived at the headquarters
+of Alvinzi, at Bassano, on January 4, the day after the conferences at
+Vicenza were broken up.
+
+‘Great destinies awaited this enterprising officer.  He was Colonel
+Graham, afterwards victor at Barrosa, and the first British general who
+planted the English standard on the soil of France.’
+
+This bare skeleton of the event was endued ‘with sense and soul’ by the
+narrator.  The ‘hardships and dangers’ thrilled one’s young nerves.
+Their two salient features were ice perils, and the no less imminent one
+of being captured and shot as a spy.  The crossing of the rivers stands
+out prominently in my recollection.  All the bridges were of course
+guarded, and he had two at least within the enemy’s lines to get
+over—those of the Mincio and of the Adige.  Probably the lagunes
+surrounding the invested fortress would be his worst difficulty.  The
+Adige he described as beset with a two-fold risk—the avoidance of the
+bridges, which courted suspicion, and the thin ice and only partially
+frozen river, which had to be traversed in the dark.  The vigour, the
+zest with which the wiry veteran ‘shoulder’d his crutch and show’d how
+fields were won’ was not a thing to be forgotten.
+
+Lord Lynedoch lived to a great age, and it was from his house at
+Cardington, in Bedfordshire, that my brother Leicester married his first
+wife, Miss Whitbread, in 1843.  That was the last time I saw him.
+
+Perhaps the following is not out of place here, although it is connected
+with more serious thoughts:
+
+Though neither my father nor my mother were more pious than their
+neighbours, we children were brought up religiously.  From infancy we
+were taught to repeat night and morning the Lord’s Prayer, and invoke
+blessings on our parents.  It was instilled into us by constant
+repetition that God did not love naughty children—our naughtiness being
+for the most part the original sin of disobedience, rooted in the love of
+forbidden fruit in all its forms of allurement.  Moses himself could not
+have believed more faithfully in the direct and immediate intervention of
+an avenging God.  The pain in one’s stomach incident to unripe
+gooseberries, no less than the consequent black dose, or the personal
+chastisement of a responsible and apprehensive nurse, were but the just
+visitations of an offended Deity.
+
+Whether my religious proclivities were more pronounced than those of
+other children I cannot say, but certainly, as a child, I was in the
+habit of appealing to Omnipotence to gratify every ardent desire.
+
+There were peacocks in the pleasure grounds at Holkham, and I had an
+æsthetic love for their gorgeous plumes.  As I hunted under and amongst
+the shrubs, I secretly prayed that my search might be rewarded.  Nor had
+I a doubt, when successful, that my prayer had been granted by a
+beneficent Providence.
+
+Let no one smile at this infantine credulity, for is it not the basis of
+that religious trust which helps so many of us to support the sorrows to
+which our stoicism is unequal?  Who that might be tempted thoughtlessly
+to laugh at the child does not sometimes sustain the hope of finding his
+‘plumes’ by appeals akin to those of his childhood?  Which of us could
+not quote a hundred instances of such a soothing delusion—if delusion it
+be?  I speak not of saints, but of sinners: of the countless hosts who
+aspire to this world’s happiness; of the dying who would live, of the
+suffering who would die, of the poor who would be rich, of the aggrieved
+who seek vengeance, of the ugly who would be beautiful, of the old who
+would appear young, of the guilty who would not be found out, and of the
+lover who would possess.  Ah! the lover.  Here possibility is a
+negligible element.  Consequences are of no consequence.  Passion must be
+served.  When could a miracle be more pertinent?
+
+It is just fifty years ago now; it was during the Indian Mutiny.  A lady
+friend of mine did me the honour to make me her confidant.  She paid the
+same compliment to many—most of her friends; and the friends (as is their
+wont) confided in one another.  Poor thing! her case was a sad one.
+Whose case is not?  She was, by her own account, in the forty-second year
+of her virginity; and it may be added, parenthetically, an honest
+fourteen stone in weight.
+
+She was in love with a hero of Lucknow.  It cannot be said that she knew
+him only by his well-earned fame.  She had seen him, had even sat by him
+at dinner.  He was young, he was handsome.  It was love at sight,
+accentuated by much meditation—‘obsessions [peradventure] des images
+génétiques.’  She told me (and her other confidants, of course) that she
+prayed day and night that this distinguished officer, this handsome
+officer, might return her passion.  And her letters to me (and to other
+confidants) invariably ended with the entreaty that I (and her other,
+&c.) would offer up a similar prayer on her behalf.  Alas! poor soul,
+poor body!  I should say, the distinguished officer, together with the
+invoked Providence, remained equally insensible to her supplications.
+The lady rests in peace.  The soldier, though a veteran, still exults in
+war.
+
+But why do I cite this single instance?  Are there not millions of such
+entreaties addressed to Heaven on this, and on every day?  What
+difference is there, in spirit, between them and the child’s prayer for
+his feather?  Is there anything great or small in the eye of Omniscience?
+Or is it not our thinking only that makes it so?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+SOON after I was seven years old, I went to what was then, and is still,
+one of the most favoured of preparatory schools—Temple Grove—at East
+Sheen, then kept by Dr. Pinkney.  I was taken thither from Holkham by a
+great friend of my father’s, General Sir Ronald Ferguson, whose statue
+now adorns one of the niches in the façade of Wellington College.  The
+school contained about 120 boys; but I cannot name any one of the lot who
+afterwards achieved distinction.  There were three Macaulays there,
+nephews of the historian—Aulay, Kenneth, and Hector.  But I have lost
+sight of all.
+
+Temple Grove was a typical private school of that period.  The type is
+familiar to everyone in its photograph as Dotheboys Hall.  The progress
+of the last century in many directions is great indeed; but in few is it
+greater than in the comfort and the cleanliness of our modern schools.
+The luxury enjoyed by the present boy is a constant source of
+astonishment to us grandfathers.  We were half starved, we were
+exceedingly dirty, we were systematically bullied, and we were flogged
+and caned as though the master’s pleasure was in inverse ratio to ours.
+The inscription on the threshold should have been ‘Cave canem.’
+
+We began our day as at Dotheboys Hall with two large spoonfuls of sulphur
+and treacle.  After an hour’s lessons we breakfasted on one bowl of
+milk—‘Skyblue’ we called it—and one hunch of buttered bread, unbuttered
+at discretion.  Our dinner began with pudding—generally rice—to save the
+butcher’s bill.  Then mutton—which was quite capable of taking care of
+itself.  Our only other meal was a basin of ‘Skyblue’ and bread as
+before.
+
+As to cleanliness, I never had a bath, never bathed (at the school)
+during the two years I was there.  On Saturday nights, before bed, our
+feet were washed by the housemaids, in tubs round which half a dozen of
+us sat at a time.  Woe to the last comers! for the water was never
+changed.  How we survived the food, or rather the want of it, is a
+marvel.  Fortunately for me, I used to discover, when I got into bed, a
+thickly buttered crust under my pillow.  I believed, I never quite made
+sure, (for the act was not admissible), that my good fairy was a
+fiery-haired lassie (we called her ‘Carrots,’ though I had my doubts as
+to this being her Christian name) who hailed from Norfolk.  I see her
+now: her jolly, round, shining face, her extensive mouth, her ample
+person.  I recall, with more pleasure than I then endured, the cordial
+hugs she surreptitiously bestowed upon me when we met by accident in the
+passages.  Kind, affectionate ‘Carrots’!  Thy heart was as bounteous as
+thy bosom.  May the tenderness of both have met with their earthly
+deserts; and mayest thou have shared to the full the pleasures thou wast
+ever ready to impart!
+
+There were no railways in those times.  It amuses me to see people
+nowadays travelling by coach, for pleasure.  How many lives must have
+been shortened by long winter journeys in those horrible coaches.  The
+inside passengers were hardly better off than the outside.  The corpulent
+and heavy occupied the scanty space allotted to the weak and
+small—crushed them, slept on them, snored over them, and monopolised the
+straw which was supposed to keep their feet warm.
+
+A pachydermatous old lady would insist upon an open window.  A wheezy
+consumptive invalid would insist on a closed one.  Everybody’s legs were
+in their own, and in every other body’s, way.  So that when the distance
+was great and time precious, people avoided coaching, and remained where
+they were.
+
+For this reason, if a short holiday was given—less than a week
+say—Norfolk was too far off; and I was not permitted to spend it at
+Holkham.  I generally went to Charles Fox’s at Addison Road, or to
+Holland House.  Lord Holland was a great friend of my father’s; but, if
+Creevey is to be trusted—which, as a rule, my recollection of him would
+permit me to doubt, though perhaps not in this instance—Lord Holland did
+not go to Holkham because of my father’s dislike to Lady Holland.
+
+I speak here of my introduction to Holland House, for although Lady
+Holland was then in the zenith of her ascendency, (it was she who was the
+Cabinet Minister, not her too amiable husband,) although Holland House
+was then the resort of all the potentates of Whig statecraft, and Whig
+literature, and Whig wit, in the persons of Lord Grey, Brougham, Jeffrey,
+Macaulay, Sydney Smith, and others, it was not till eight or ten years
+later that I knew, when I met them there, who and what her Ladyship’s
+brilliant satellites were.  I shall not return to Lady Holland, so I will
+say a parting word of her forthwith.
+
+The woman who corresponded with Buonaparte, and consoled the prisoner of
+St. Helena with black currant jam, was no ordinary personage.  Most
+people, I fancy, were afraid of her.  Her stature, her voice, her beard,
+were obtrusive marks of her masculine attributes.  It is questionable
+whether her amity or her enmity was most to be dreaded.  She liked those
+best whom she could most easily tyrannise over.  Those in the other
+category might possibly keep aloof.  For my part I feared her patronage.
+I remember when I was about seventeen—a self-conscious hobbledehoy—Mr.
+Ellice took me to one of her large receptions.  She received her guests
+from a sort of elevated dais.  When I came up—very shy—to make my salute,
+she asked me how old I was.  ‘Seventeen,’ was the answer.  ‘That means
+next birthday,’ she grunted.  ‘Come and give me a kiss, my dear.’  I, a
+man!—a man whose voice was (sometimes) as gruff as hers!—a man who was
+beginning to shave for a moustache!  Oh! the indignity of it!
+
+But it was not Lady Holland, or her court, that concerned me in my school
+days, it was Holland Park, or the extensive grounds about Charles Fox’s
+house (there were no other houses at Addison Road then), that I loved to
+roam in.  It was the birds’-nesting; it was the golden carp I used to
+fish for on the sly with a pin; the shying at the swans, the hunt for
+cockchafers, the freedom of mischief generally, and the excellent
+food—which I was so much in need of—that made the holiday delightful.
+
+Some years later, when dining at Holland House, I happened to sit near
+the hostess.  It was a large dinner party.  Lord Holland, in his
+bath-chair (he nearly always had the gout), sat at the far end of the
+table a long way off.  But my lady kept an eye on him, for she had caught
+him drinking champagne.  She beckoned to the groom of the chambers, who
+stood behind her; and in a gruff and angry voice shouted: ‘Go to my Lord.
+Take away his wine, and tell him if he drinks any more you have my orders
+to wheel him into the next room.’  If this was a joke it was certainly a
+practical one.  And yet affection was behind it.  There’s a tender place
+in every heart.
+
+Like all despots, she was subject to fits of cowardice—especially, it was
+said, with regard to a future state, which she professed to disbelieve
+in.  Mr. Ellice told me that once, in some country house, while a fearful
+storm was raging, and the claps of thunder made the windows rattle, Lady
+Holland was so terrified that she changed dresses with her maid, and hid
+herself in the cellar.  Whether the story be a calumny or not, it is at
+least characteristic.
+
+After all, it was mainly due to her that Holland House became the focus
+of all that was brilliant in Europe.  In the memoirs of her father—Sydney
+Smith—Mrs. Austin writes: ‘The world has rarely seen, and will rarely, if
+ever, see again all that was to be found within the walls of Holland
+House.  Genius and merit, in whatever rank of life, became a passport
+there; and all that was choicest and rarest in Europe seemed attracted to
+that spot as their natural soil.’
+
+Did we learn much at Temple Grove?  Let others answer for themselves.
+Acquaintance with the classics was the staple of a liberal education in
+those times.  Temple Grove was the _atrium_ to Eton, and gerund-grinding
+was its _raison d’être_.  Before I was nine years old I daresay I could
+repeat—parrot, that is—several hundreds of lines of the Æneid.  This, and
+some elementary arithmetic, geography, and drawing, which last I took to
+kindly, were dearly paid for by many tears, and by temporarily impaired
+health.  It was due to my pallid cheeks that I was removed.  It was due
+to the following six months—summer months—of a happy life that my health
+was completely restored.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+MR. EDWARD ELLICE, who constantly figures in the memoirs of the last
+century as ‘Bear Ellice’ (an outrageous misnomer, by the way), and who
+later on married my mother, was the chief controller of my youthful
+destiny.  His first wife was a sister of the Lord Grey of Reform Bill
+fame, in whose Government he filled the office of War Minister.  In many
+respects Mr. Ellice was a notable man.  He possessed shrewd intelligence,
+much force of character, and an autocratic spirit—to which he owed his
+sobriquet.  His kindness of heart, his powers of conversation, with
+striking personality and ample wealth, combined to make him popular.  His
+house in Arlington Street, and his shooting lodge at Glen Quoich, were
+famous for the number of eminent men who were his frequent guests.
+
+Mr. Ellice’s position as a minister, and his habitual residence in Paris,
+had brought him in touch with the leading statesmen of France.  He was
+intimately acquainted with Louis Philippe, with Talleyrand, with Guizot,
+with Thiers, and most of the French men and French women whose names were
+bruited in the early part of the nineteenth century.
+
+When I was taken from Temple Grove, I was placed, by the advice and
+arrangement of Mr. Ellice, under the charge of a French family, which had
+fallen into decay—through the change of dynasty.  The Marquis de Coubrier
+had been Master of the Horse to Charles X.  His widow—an old lady between
+seventy and eighty—with three maiden daughters, all advanced in years,
+lived upon the remnant of their estates in a small village called Larue,
+close to Bourg-la-Reine, which, it may be remembered, was occupied by the
+Prussians during the siege of Paris.  There was a château, the former
+seat of the family; and, adjoining it, in the same grounds, a pretty and
+commodious cottage.  The first was let as a country house to some wealthy
+Parisians; the cottage was occupied by the Marquise and her three
+daughters.
+
+The personal appearances of each of these four elderly ladies, their
+distinct idiosyncrasies, and their former high position as members of a
+now moribund nobility, left a lasting impression on my memory.  One might
+expect, perhaps, from such a prelude, to find in the old Marquise traces
+of stately demeanour, or a regretted superiority.  Nothing of the kind.
+She herself was a short, square-built woman, with large head and strong
+features, framed in a mob cap, with a broad frill which flopped over her
+tortoise-shell spectacles.  She wore a black bombazine gown, and list
+slippers.  When in the garden, where she was always busy in the
+summer-time, she put on wooden sabots over her slippers.
+
+Despite this homely exterior, she herself was a ‘lady’ in every sense of
+the word.  Her manner was dignified and courteous to everyone.  To her
+daughters and to myself she was gentle and affectionate.  Her voice was
+sympathetic, almost musical.  I never saw her temper ruffled.  I never
+heard her allude to her antecedents.
+
+The daughters were as unlike their mother as they were to one another.
+Adèle, the eldest, was very stout, with a profusion of grey ringlets.
+She spoke English fluently.  I gathered, from her mysterious nods and
+tosses of the head, (to be sure, her head wagged a little of its own
+accord, the ringlets too, like lambs’ tails,) that she had had an
+_affaire de cœur_ with an Englishman, and that the perfidious islander
+had removed from the Continent with her misplaced affections.  She was a
+trifle bitter, I thought—for I applied her insinuations to myself—against
+Englishmen generally.  But, though cynical in theory, she was perfectly
+amiable in practice.  She superintended the ménage and spent the rest of
+her life in making paper flowers.  I should hardly have known they were
+flowers, never having seen their prototypes in nature.  She assured me,
+however, that they were beautiful copies—undoubtedly she believed them to
+be so.
+
+Henriette, the youngest, had been the beauty of the family.  This I had
+to take her own word for, since here again there was much room for
+imagination and faith.  She was a confirmed invalid, and, poor thing!
+showed every symptom of it.  She rarely left her room except for meals;
+and although it was summer when I was there, she never moved without her
+chauffrette.  She seemed to live for the sake of patent medicines and her
+chauffrette; she was always swallowing the one, and feeding the other.
+
+The middle daughter was Agläé.  Mademoiselle Agläé took charge—I may say,
+possession—of me.  She was tall, gaunt, and bony, with a sharp aquiline
+nose, pomegranate cheek-bones, and large saffron teeth ever much in
+evidence.  Her speciality, as I soon discovered, was sentiment.  Like her
+sisters, she had had her ‘affaires’ in the plural.  A Greek prince, so
+far as I could make out, was the last of her adorers.  But I sometimes
+got into scrapes by mixing up the Greek prince with a Polish count, and
+then confounding either one or both with a Hungarian pianoforte player.
+
+Without formulating my deductions, I came instinctively to the conclusion
+that ‘En fait d’amour,’ as Figaro puts it, ‘trop n’est pas même assez.’
+From Miss Agläé’s point of view a lover was a lover.  As to the
+superiority of one over another, this was—nay, is—purely subjective.  ‘We
+receive but what we give.’  And, from what Mademoiselle then told me, I
+cannot but infer that she had given without stint.
+
+Be that as it may, nothing could be more kind than her care of me.  She
+tucked me up at night, and used to send for me in the morning before she
+rose, to partake of her _café-au-lait_.  In return for her indulgences, I
+would ‘make eyes’ such as I had seen Auguste, the young man-servant, cast
+at Rose the cook.  I would present her with little scraps which I copied
+in roundhand from a volume of French poems.  Once I drew, and coloured
+with red ink, two hearts pierced with an arrow, a copious pool of red ink
+beneath, emblematic of both the quality and quantity of my passion.  This
+work of art produced so deep a sigh that I abstained thenceforth from
+repeating such sanguinary endearments.
+
+Not the least interesting part of the family was the servants.  I say
+‘family,’ for a French family, unlike an English one, includes its
+domestics; wherein our neighbours have the advantage over us.  In the
+British establishment the household is but too often thought of and
+treated as furniture.  I was as fond of Rose the cook and
+maid-of-all-work as I was of anyone in the house.  She showed me how to
+peel potatoes, break eggs, and make _pot-au-feu_.  She made me little
+delicacies in pastry—swans with split almonds for wings, comic little
+pigs with cloves in their eyes—for all of which my affection and my liver
+duly acknowledged receipt in full.  She taught me more provincial
+pronunciation and bad grammar than ever I could unlearn.  She was very
+intelligent, and radiant with good humour.  One peculiarity especially
+took my fancy—the yellow bandana in which she enveloped her head.  I was
+always wondering whether she was born without hair—there was none to be
+seen.  This puzzled me so that one day I consulted Auguste, who was my
+chief companion.  He was quite indignant, and declared with warmth that
+Mam’selle Rose had the most beautiful hair he had ever beheld.  He
+flushed even with enthusiasm.  If it hadn’t been for his manner, I should
+have asked him how he knew.  But somehow I felt the subject was a
+delicate one.
+
+How incessantly they worked, Auguste and Rose, and how cheerfully they
+worked!  One could hear her singing, and him whistling, at it all day.
+Yet they seemed to have abundant leisure to exchange a deal of pleasantry
+and harmless banter.  Auguste was a Swiss, and a bigoted Protestant, and
+never lost an opportunity of holding forth on the superiority of the
+reformed religion.  If he thought the family were out of hearing, he
+would grow very animated and declamatory.  But Rose, who also had hopes,
+though perhaps faint, for my salvation, would suddenly rush into the room
+with the carpet broom, and drive him out, with threats of Miss Agläé, and
+the broomstick.
+
+The gardener, Monsieur Benoît, was also a great favourite of mine, and I
+of his, for I was never tired of listening to his wonderful adventures.
+He had, so he informed me, been a soldier in the _Grande Armée_.  He
+enthralled me with hair-raising accounts of his exploits: how, when
+leading a storming party—he was always the leader—one dark and terrible
+night, the vivid and incessant lightning betrayed them by the flashing of
+their bayonets; and how in a few minutes they were mowed down by
+_mitraille_.  He had led forlorn hopes, and performed deeds of astounding
+prowess.  How many Life-guardsmen he had annihilated: ‘Ah! ben oui!’ he
+was afraid to say.  He had been personally noticed by ‘Le p’tit caporal.’
+There were many, whose deeds were not to compare with his, who had been
+made princes and mareschals.  _Parbleu_! but his luck was bad.  ‘Pas
+d’chance! pas d’chance!  Mo’sieu Henri.’  As Monsieur Benoît recorded his
+feats, and witnessed my unbounded admiration, his voice would grow more
+and more sepulchral, till it dropped to a hoarse and scarcely audible
+whisper.
+
+I was a little bewildered one day when, having breathlessly repeated some
+of his heroic deeds to the Marquise, she with a quiet smile assured me
+that ‘ce petit bon-homme,’ as she called him, had for a short time been a
+drummer in the National Guard, but had never been a soldier.  This was a
+blow to me; moreover, I was troubled by the composure of the Marquise.
+Monsieur Benoît had actually been telling me what was not true.  Was it,
+then, possible that grown-up people acquired the privilege of fibbing
+with impunity?  I wondered whether this right would eventually become
+mine!
+
+At Bourg-la-Reine there is, or was, a large school.  Three days in the
+week I had to join one of the classes there; on the other three one of
+the ushers came up to Larue for a couple of hours of private tuition.  At
+the school itself I did not learn very much, except that boys everywhere
+are pretty similar, especially in the badness of their manners.  I also
+learnt that shrugging the shoulders while exhibiting the palms of the
+hands, and smiting oneself vehemently on the chest, are indispensable
+elements of the French idiom.  The indiscriminate use of the word
+‘parfaitement’ I also noticed to be essential when at a loss for either
+language or ideas, and have made valuable use of it ever since.
+
+Monsieur Vincent, my tutor, was a most good-natured and patient teacher.
+I incline, however, to think that I taught him more English than he
+taught me French.  He certainly worked hard at his lessons.  He read
+English aloud to me, and made me correct his pronunciation.  The mental
+agony this caused me makes me hot to think of still.  I had never heard
+his kind of Franco-English before.  To my ignorance it was the most comic
+language in the world.  There were some words which, in spite of my
+endeavours, he persisted in pronouncing in his own way.  I have since got
+quite used to the most of them, and their only effect is to remind me of
+my own rash ventures in a foreign tongue.  There are one or two words
+which recall the pain it gave me to control my emotions.  He would
+produce his penknife, for instance; and, contemplating it with a
+despondent air, would declare it to be the most difficult word in the
+English language to pronounce.  ‘Ow you say ’im?’  ‘Penknife,’ I
+explained.  He would bid me write it down; then having spelt it, he
+would, with much effort, and a sound like sneezing—oh! the pain I
+endured!—slowly repeat ‘Penkneef.’  I gave it up at last; and he was
+gratified with his success.  As my explosion generally occurred about
+five minutes afterwards, Monsieur Vincent failed to connect cause and
+effect.  When we parted he gave me a neatly bound copy of La Bruyère as a
+prize—for his own proficiency, I presume.  Many a pleasant half-hour have
+I since spent with the witty classic.
+
+Except the controversial harangues of the zealot Auguste, my religious
+teaching was neglected on week days.  On Sundays, if fine, I was taken to
+a Protestant church in Paris; not infrequently to the Embassy.  I did not
+enjoy this at all.  I could have done very well without it.  I liked the
+drive, which took about an hour each way.  Occasionally Agläé and I went
+in the Bourg-la-Reine coucou.  But Mr. Ellice had arranged that a
+carriage should be hired for me.  Probably he was not unmindful of the
+convenience of the old ladies.  They were not.  The carriage was always
+filled.  Even Mademoiselle Henriette managed to go sometimes—aided by a
+little patent medicine, and when it was too hot for the chauffrette.  If
+she was unable, a friend in the neighbourhood was offered a seat; and I
+had to sit bodkin, or on Mademoiselle Agläé’s lap.  I hated the ‘friend’;
+for, secretly, I felt the carriage was mine, though of course I never had
+the bad taste to say so.
+
+They went to Mass, and I was allowed to go with them, in addition to my
+church, as a special favour.  I liked the music, the display of candles,
+the smell of the incense, and the dresses of the priests; and wondered
+whether when undressed—unrobed, that is—they were funny old gentlemen
+like Monsieur le Curé at Larue, and took such a prodigious quantity of
+snuff up their noses and under their finger-nails.  The ladies did a good
+deal of shopping, and we finished off at the Flower Market by the
+Madeleine, where I, through the agency of Mademoiselle Agläé, bought
+plants for ‘Maman.’  This gave ‘Maman’ _un plaisir inouï_, and me too;
+for the dear old lady always presented me with a stick of barley-sugar in
+return.  As I never possessed a sou (Miss Agläé kept account of all my
+expenses and disbursements) I was strongly in favour of buying plants for
+‘Maman.’
+
+I loved the garden.  It was such a beautiful garden; so beautifully kept
+by Monsieur Benoît, and withered old Mère Michèle, who did the weeding
+and helped Rose once a week in the laundry.  There were such pretty
+trellises, covered with roses and clematis; such masses of bright flowers
+and sweet mignonette; such tidy gravel walks and clipped box edges; such
+floods of sunshine; so many butterflies and lizards basking in it; the
+birds singing with excess of joy.  I used to fancy they sang in gratitude
+to the dear old Marquise, who never forgot them in the winter snows.
+
+What a quaint but charming picture she was amidst this quietude,—she who
+had lived through the Reign of Terror: her mob cap, garden apron, and big
+gloves; a trowel in one hand, a watering-pot in the other; potting and
+unpotting; so busy, seemingly so happy.  She loved to have me with her,
+and let me do the watering.  What a pleasure that was!  The scores of
+little jets from the perforated rose, the gushing sound, the freshness
+and the sparkle, the gratitude of the plants, to say nothing of one’s own
+wet legs.  ‘Maman’ did not approve of my watering my own legs.  But if
+the watering-pot was too big for me how could I help it?  By and by a
+small one painted red within and green outside was discovered in
+Bourg-la-Reine, and I was happy ever afterwards.
+
+Much of my time was spent with the children and nurses of the family
+which occupied the château.  The costume of the head nurse with her high
+Normandy cap (would that I had a female pen for details) invariably
+suggested to me that she would make any English showman’s fortune, if he
+could only exhibit her stuffed.  At the cottage they called her ‘La
+Grosse Normande.’  Not knowing her by any other name, I always so
+addressed her.  She was not very quick-witted, but I think she a little
+resented my familiarity, and retaliated by comparisons between her
+compatriots and mine, always in a tone derogatory to the latter.  She
+informed me as a matter of history, patent to all nurses, that the
+English race were notoriously bow-legged; and that this was due to the
+vicious practice of allowing children to use their legs before the
+gristle had become bone.  Being of an inquiring turn of mind, I listened
+with awe to this physiological revelation, and with chastened and
+depressed spirits made a mental note of our national calamity.  Privately
+I fancied that the mottled and spasmodic legs of Achille—whom she carried
+in her arms—or at least so much of the infant Pelides’ legs as were not
+enveloped in a napkin, gave every promise of refuting her generalisation.
+
+One of my amusements was to set brick traps for small birds.  At Holkham
+in the winter time, by baiting with a few grains of corn, I and my
+brothers used, in this way, to capture robins, hedge-sparrows, and tits.
+Not far from the château was a large osier bed, resorted to by flocks of
+the common sparrow.  Here I set my traps.  But it being summer time, and
+(as I complained when twitted with want of success) French birds being
+too stupid to know what the traps were for, I never caught a feather.
+Now this osier bed was a favourite game covert for the sportsmen of the
+château; and what was my delight and astonishment when one morning I
+found a dead hare with its head under the fallen brick of my trap.  How
+triumphantly I dragged it home, and showed it to Rose and Auguste,—who
+more than the rest had ‘mocked themselves’ of my traps, and then carried
+it in my arms, all bloody as it was (I could not make out how both its
+hind legs were broken) into the salon to show it to the old Marquise.
+Mademoiselle Henriette, who was there, gave a little scream (for effect)
+at sight of the blood.  Everybody was pleased.  But when I overheard
+Rose’s _sotto voce_ to the Marquise: ‘Comme ils sont gentils!’ I
+indignantly retorted that ‘it wasn’t kind of the hare at all: it was
+entirely due to my skill in setting the traps.  They would catch anything
+that put its head into them.  Just you try.’
+
+How severe are the shocks of early disillusionment!  It was not until
+long after the hare was skinned, roasted, served as _civet_ and as
+_purée_ that I discovered the truth.  I was not at all grateful to the
+gentlemen of the château whose dupe I had been; was even wrath with my
+dear old ‘Maman’ for treating them with extra courtesy for their kindness
+to her _petit chéri_.
+
+That was a happy summer.  After it was ended, and it was time for me to
+return to England and begin my education for the Navy I never again set
+eyes on Larue, or that charming nest of old ladies who had done their
+utmost to spoil me.  Many and many a time have I been to Paris, but
+nothing could tempt me to visit Larue.  So it is with me.  Often have I
+questioned the truth of the _nessun maggior dolore_ than the memory of
+happy times in the midst of sorry ones.  The thought of happiness, it
+would seem, should surely make us happier, and yet—not of happiness for
+ever lost.  And are not the deepening shades of our declining sun
+deepened by youth’s contrast?  Whatever our sweetest songs may tell us
+of, we are the sadder for our sweetest memories.  The grass can never be
+as green again to eyes grown watery.  The lambs that skipped when we did
+were long since served as mutton.  And if
+
+    Die Füsse tragen mich so muthig nicht empor
+    Die hohen Stufen die ich kindisch übersprang,
+
+why, I will take the fact for granted.  My youth is fled, my friends are
+dead.  The daisies and the snows whiten by turns the grave of him or
+her—the dearest I have loved.  Shall I make a pilgrimage to that
+sepulchre?  Drop futile tears upon it?  Will they warm what is no more?
+I for one have not the heart for that.  Happily life has something else
+for us to do.  Happily ’tis best to do it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+THE passage from the romantic to the realistic, from the chimerical to
+the actual, from the child’s poetic interpretation of life to life’s
+practical version of itself, is too gradual to be noticed while the
+process is going on.  It is only in the retrospect we see the change.
+There is still, for yet another stage, the same and even greater
+receptivity,—delight in new experiences, in gratified curiosity, in
+sensuous enjoyment, in the exercise of growing faculties.  But the belief
+in the impossible and the bliss of ignorance are seen, when looking back,
+to have assumed almost abruptly a cruder state of maturer dulness.
+Between the public schoolboy and the child there is an essential
+difference; and this in a boy’s case is largely due, I fancy, to the
+diminished influence of woman, and the increased influence of men.
+
+With me, certainly, the rough usage I was ere long to undergo materially
+modified my view of things in general.  In 1838, when I was eleven years
+old, my uncle, Henry Keppel, the future Admiral of the Fleet, but then a
+dashing young commander, took me (as he mentions in his Autobiography) to
+the Naval Academy at Gosport.  The very afternoon of my admittance—as an
+illustration of the above remarks—I had three fights with three different
+boys.  After that the ‘new boy’ was left to his own devices,—_qua_ ‘new
+boy,’ that is; as an ordinary small boy, I had my share.  I have spoken
+of the starvation at Dr. Pinkney’s; here it was the terrible bullying
+that left its impress on me—literally its mark, for I still bear the scar
+upon my hand.
+
+Most boys, I presume, know the toy called a whirligig, made by stringing
+a button on a loop of thread, the twisting and untwisting of which by
+approaching and separating the hands causes the button to revolve.  Upon
+this design, and by substituting a jagged disk of slate for the button,
+the senior ‘Bull-dogs’ (we were all called ‘Burney’s bull-dogs’)
+constructed a very simple instrument of torture.  One big boy spun the
+whirligig, while another held the small boy’s palm till the sharp
+slate-edge gashed it.  The wound was severe.  For many years a long white
+cicatrice recorded the fact in my right hand.  The ordeal was, I fancy,
+unique—a prerogative of the naval ‘bull-dogs.’  The other torture was, in
+those days, not unknown to public schools.  It was to hold a boy’s back
+and breech as near to a hot fire as his clothes would bear without
+burning.  I have an indistinct recollection of a boy at one of our
+largest public schools being thus exposed, and left tied to chairs while
+his companions were at church.  When church was over the boy was
+found—roasted.
+
+By the advice of a chum I submitted to the scorching without a howl, and
+thus obtained immunity, and admission to the roasting guild for the
+future.  What, however, served me best, in all matters of this kind, was
+that as soon as I was twelve years old my name was entered on the books
+of the ‘Britannia,’ then flag-ship in Portsmouth Harbour, and though I
+remained at the Academy, I always wore the uniform of a volunteer of the
+first class, now called a naval cadet.  The uniform was respected, and
+the wearer shared the benefit.
+
+During the winter of 1839–40 I joined H.M.S. ‘Blonde,’ a 46-gun frigate
+commanded by Captain Bouchier, afterwards Sir Thomas, whose portrait is
+now in the National Portrait Gallery.  He had seen much service, and had
+been flag-captain to Nelson’s Hardy.  In the middle of that winter we
+sailed for China, where troubles had arisen anent the opium trade.
+
+What would the cadet of the present day think of the treatment we small
+boys had to put up with sixty or seventy years ago?  Promotion depended
+almost entirely on interest.  The service was entered at twelve or
+thirteen.  After two years at sea, if the boy passed his examination, he
+mounted the white patch, and became a midshipman.  At the end of four
+years more he had to pass a double examination,—one for seamanship before
+a board of captains, and another for navigation at the Naval College.  He
+then became a master’s mate, and had to serve for three years as such
+before he was eligible for promotion to a lieutenancy.  Unless an officer
+had family interest he often stuck there, and as often had to serve under
+one more favoured, who was not born when he himself was getting stale.
+
+Naturally enough these old hands were jealous of the fortunate
+youngsters, and, unless exceptionally amiable, would show them little
+mercy.
+
+We left Portsmouth in December 1839.  It was bitter winter.  The day we
+sailed, such was the severity of the gale and snowstorm, that we had to
+put back and anchor at St. Helens in the Isle of Wight.  The next night
+we were at sea.  It happened to be my middle watch.  I had to turn out of
+my hammock at twelve to walk the deck till four in the morning.  Walk! I
+could not stand.  Blinded with snow, drenched by the seas, frozen with
+cold, home sick and sea sick beyond description, my opinion of the Royal
+Navy—as a profession—was, in the course of these four hours, seriously
+subverted.  Long before the watch ended.  I was reeling about more asleep
+than awake; every now and then brought to my senses by breaking my shins
+against the carronade slides; or, if I sat down upon one of them to rest,
+by a playful whack with a rope’s end from one of the crusty old mates
+aforesaid, who perhaps anticipated in my poor little personality the
+arrogance of a possible commanding officer.  Oh! those cruel night
+watches!  But the hard training must have been a useful tonic too.  One
+got accustomed to it by degrees; and hence, indifferent to exposure, to
+bad food, to kicks and cuffs, to calls of duty, to subordination, and to
+all that constitutes discipline.
+
+Luckily for me, the midshipman of my watch, Jack Johnson, was a trump,
+and a smart officer to boot.  He was six years older than I, and, though
+thoroughly good-natured, was formidable enough from his strength and
+determination to have his will respected.  He became my patron and
+protector.  Rightly, or wrongly I am afraid, he always took my part, made
+excuses for me to the officer of our watch if I were caught napping under
+the half-deck, or otherwise neglecting my duty.  Sometimes he would even
+take the blame for this upon himself, and give me a ‘wigging’ in private,
+which was my severest punishment.  He taught me the ropes, and explained
+the elements of seamanship.  If it was very cold at night he would make
+me wear his own comforter, and, in short, took care of me in every
+possible way.  Poor Jack! I never had a better friend; and I loved him
+then, God knows.  He was one of those whose advancement depended on
+himself.  I doubt whether he would ever have been promoted but for an
+accident which I shall speak of presently.
+
+When we got into warm latitudes we were taught not only to knot and
+splice, but to take in and set the mizzen royal.  There were four of us
+boys, and in all weathers at last we were practised aloft until we were
+as active and as smart as any of the ship’s lads, even in dirty weather
+or in sudden squalls.
+
+We had a capital naval instructor for lessons in navigation, and the
+quartermaster of the watch taught us how to handle the wheel and con.
+
+These quartermasters—there was one to each of the three watches—were
+picked men who had been captains of tops or boatswains’ mates.  They were
+much older than any of the crew.  Our three in the ‘Blonde’ had all seen
+service in the French and Spanish wars.  One, a tall, handsome old
+fellow, had been a smuggler; and many a fight with, or narrow escape
+from, the coast-guard he had to tell of.  The other two had been badly
+wounded.  Old Jimmy Bartlett of my watch had a hole in his chest half an
+inch deep from a boarding pike.  He had also lost a finger, and a bullet
+had passed through his cheek.  One of his fights was in the ‘Amethyst’
+frigate when, under Sir Michael Seymour, she captured the ‘Niemen’ in
+1809.  Often in the calm tropical nights, when the helm could take care
+of itself almost, he would spin me a yarn about hot actions,
+cutting-outs, press-gangings, and perils which he had gone through,
+or—what was all one to me—had invented.
+
+From England to China round the Cape was a long voyage before there was a
+steamer in the Navy.  It is impossible to describe the charm of one’s
+first acquaintance with tropical vegetation after the tedious monotony
+unbroken by any event but an occasional flogging or a man overboard.  The
+islands seemed afloat in an atmosphere of blue; their jungles rooting in
+the water’s edge.  The strange birds in the daytime, the flocks of
+parrots, the din of every kind of life, the flying foxes at night, the
+fragrant and spicy odours, captivate the senses.  How delicious, too, the
+fresh fruits brought off by the Malays in their scooped-out logs, one’s
+first taste of bananas, juicy shaddocks, mangoes, and custard
+apples—after months of salt junk, disgusting salt pork, and biscuit all
+dust and weevils.  The water is so crystal-clear it seems as though one
+could lay one’s hands on strange coloured fish and coral beds at any
+depth.  This, indeed, was ‘kissing the lips of unexpected change.’  It
+was a first kiss moreover.  The tropics now have ceased to remind me even
+of this spell of novelty and wonder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+THE first time I ‘smelt powder’ was at Amoy.  The ‘Blonde’ carried out
+Lord Palmerston’s letter to the Chinese Government.  Never was there a
+more iniquitous war than England then provoked with China to force upon
+her the opium trade with India in spite of the harm which the Chinese
+authorities believed that opium did to their people.
+
+Even Macaulay advocated this shameful imposition.  China had to submit,
+and pay into the bargain four and a half millions sterling to prove
+themselves in the wrong.  Part of this went as prize money.  My share of
+it—the _douceur_ for a middy’s participation in the crime—was exactly
+100_l._
+
+To return to Amoy.  When off the mouth of the Canton river we had taken
+on board an interpreter named Thom.  What our instructions were I know
+not; I can only tell what happened.  Our entry into Amoy harbour caused
+an immediate commotion on land.  As soon as we dropped anchor, about half
+a mile from the shore, a number of troops, with eight or ten
+field-pieces, took up their position on the beach, evidently resolved to
+prevent our landing.  We hoisted a flag of truce, at the same time
+cleared the decks for action, and dropped a kedge astern so as to moor
+the ship broadside to the forts and invested shore.  The officer of my
+watch, the late Sir Frederick Nicholson, together with the interpreter,
+were ordered to land and communicate with the chief mandarin.  To carry
+out this as inoffensively as possible, Nicholson took the jolly-boat,
+manned by four lads only.  As it was my watch, I had charge of the boat.
+A napkin or towel served for a flag of truce.  But long before we reached
+the shore, several mandarins came down to the water’s edge waving their
+swords and shouting angrily to warn us off.  Mr. Thom, who understood
+what they said, was frightened out of his wits, assuring us we should all
+be sawed in half if we attempted to land.  Sir Frederick was not the man
+to disobey orders even on such a penalty; he, however, took the
+precaution—a very wise one as it happened—to reverse the boat, and back
+her in stern foremost.
+
+No sooner did the keel grate on the shingle than a score of soldiers
+rushed down to seize us.  Before they could do so we had shoved off.  The
+shore was very steep.  In a moment we were in deep water, and our lads
+pulling for dear life.  Then came a storm of bullets from matchlocks and
+jingals and the bigger guns, fortunately just too high to hit us.  One
+bullet only struck the back-board, but did no harm.  What, however,
+seemed a greater danger was the fire from the ship.  Ere we were halfway
+back broadside after broadside was fired over our heads into the poor
+devils massed along the beach.  This was kept up until not a living
+Chinaman was to be seen.
+
+I may mention here a curious instance of cowardice.  One of our men, a
+ship’s painter, soon after the firing began and was returned by the
+fort’s guns, which in truth were quite harmless, jumped overboard and
+drowned himself.  I have seen men’s courage tried under fire, and in many
+other ways since; yet I have never known but one case similar to this,
+when a friend of my own, a rich and prosperous man, shot himself to avoid
+death!  So that there are men like ‘Monsieur Grenouille, qui se cachait
+dans l’eau pour éviter la pluie.’  Often have I seen timid and nervous
+men, who were thought to be cowards, get so excited in action that their
+timidity has turned to rashness.  In truth ‘on est souvent ferme par
+faiblesse, et audacieux par timidité.’
+
+Partly for this reason, and partly because I look upon it as a remnant of
+our predatory antecedents and of animal pugnacity, I have no extravagant
+admiration for mere combativeness or physical courage.  Honoured and
+rewarded as one of the noblest of manly attributes, it is one of the
+commonest of qualities,—one which there is not a mammal, a bird, a fish,
+or an insect even, that does not share with us.  Such is the esteem in
+which it is held, such the ignominy which punishes the want of it, that
+the most cautious and the most timid by nature will rather face the
+uncertain risks of a fight than the certain infamy of imputed cowardice.
+
+Is it likely that courage should be rare under such circumstances,
+especially amongst professional fighters, who in England at least have
+chosen their trade?  That there are poltroons, and plenty of them,
+amongst our soldiers and sailors, I do not dispute.  But with the fear of
+shame on one hand, the hope of reward on the other, the merest dastard
+will fight like a wild beast, when his blood is up.  The extraordinary
+merit of his conduct is not so obvious to the peaceful thinker.  I speak
+not of such heroism as that of the Japanese,—their deeds will henceforth
+be bracketed with those of Leonidas and his three hundred, who died for a
+like cause.  With the Japanese, as it was with the Spartans, every man is
+a patriot; nor is the proportionate force of their barbaric invaders
+altogether dissimilar.
+
+Is then the Victoria Cross an error?  To say so would be an outrage in
+this age of militarism.  And what would all the Queens of Beauty think,
+from Sir Wilfred Ivanhoe’s days to ours, if mighty warriors ceased to
+poke each other in the ribs, and send one another’s souls untimely to the
+‘viewless shades,’ for the sake of their ‘doux yeux?’  Ah! who knows how
+many a mutilation, how many a life, has been the price of that requital?
+Ye gentle creatures who swoon at the sight of blood, is it not the hero
+who lets most of it that finds most favour in your eyes?  Possibly it may
+be to the heroes of moral courage that some distant age will award its
+choicest decorations.  As it is, the courage that seeks the rewards of
+Fame seems to me about on a par with the virtue that invests in Heaven.
+
+Though an anachronism as regards this stage of my career, I cannot resist
+a little episode which pleasantly illustrates moral courage, or chivalry
+at least, combined with physical bravery.
+
+In December, 1899, I was a passenger on board a Norddeutscher Lloyd on my
+way to Ceylon.  The steamer was crowded with Germans; there were
+comparatively few English.  Things had been going very badly with us in
+the Transvaal, and the telegrams both at Port Said and at Suez
+supplemented the previous ill-news.  At the latter place we heard of the
+catastrophe at Magersfontein, of poor Wauchope’s death, and of the
+disaster to the Highland Light Infantry.  The moment it became known the
+Germans threw their caps into the air, and yelled as if it were they who
+had defeated us.
+
+Amongst the steerage passengers was a Major—in the English army—returning
+from leave to rejoin his regiment at Colombo.  If one might judge by his
+choice of a second-class fare, and by his much worn apparel, he was what
+one would call a professional soldier.  He was a tall, powerfully-built,
+handsome man, with a weather-beaten determined face, and keen eye.  I was
+so taken with his looks that I often went to the fore part of the ship on
+the chance of getting a word with him.  But he was either shy or proud,
+certainly reserved; and always addressed me as ‘Sir,’ which was not
+encouraging.
+
+That same evening, after dinner in the steerage cabin, a German got up
+and, beginning with some offensive allusions to the British army,
+proposed the health of General Cronje and the heroic Boers.  This was
+received with deafening ‘Hochs.’  To cap the enthusiasm up jumped another
+German, and proposed ‘unglück—bad luck to all Englanders and to their
+Queen.’  This also was cordially toasted.  When the ceremony was ended
+and silence restored, my reserved friend calmly rose, tapped the table
+with the handle of his knife (another steerage passenger—an
+Australian—told me what happened), took his watch from his pocket, and
+slowly said: ‘It is just six minutes to eight.  If the person who
+proposed the last toast has not made a satisfactory apology to me before
+the hand of my watch points to the hour, I will thrash him till he does.
+I am an officer in the English army, and always keep my word.’  A small
+band of Australians was in the cabin.  One and all of them applauded this
+laconic speech.  It was probably due in part to these that the offender
+did not wait till the six minutes had expired.
+
+Next day I congratulated my reserved friend.  He was reticent as usual.
+All I could get out of him was, ‘I never allow a lady to be insulted in
+my presence, sir.’  It was his Queen, not his cloth, that had roused the
+virility in this quiet man.
+
+Let us turn to another aspect of the deeds of war.  About daylight on the
+morning following our bombardment, it being my morning watch, I was
+ordered to take the surgeon and assistant surgeon ashore.  There were
+many corpses, but no living or wounded to be seen.  One object only
+dwells visually in my memory.
+
+At least a quarter of a mile from the dead soldiers, a stray shell had
+killed a grey-bearded old man and a young woman.  They were side by side.
+The woman was still in her teens and pretty.  She lay upon her back.
+Blood was oozing from her side.  A swarm of flies were buzzing in and out
+of her open mouth.  Her little deformed feet, cased in the high-heeled
+and embroidered tiny shoes, extended far beyond her petticoats.  It was
+these feet that interested the men of science.  They are now, I believe,
+in a jar of spirits at Haslar hospital.  At least, my friend the
+assistant surgeon told me, as we returned to the ship, that that was
+their ultimate destination.  The mutilated body, as I turned from it with
+sickening horror, left a picture on my youthful mind not easily to be
+effaced.
+
+After this we joined the rest of the squadron: the ‘Melville’ (a
+three-decker, Sir W. Parker’s flagship), the ‘Blenheim,’ the ‘Druid,’ the
+‘Calliope,’ and several 18-gun brigs.  We took Hong Kong, Chusan, Ningpo,
+Canton, and returned to take Amoy.  One or two incidents only in the
+several engagements seem worth recording.
+
+We have all of us supped full with horrors this last year or so, and I
+have no thought of adding to the surfeit.  But sometimes common accidents
+appear exceptional, if they befall ourselves, or those with whom we are
+intimate.  If the sufferer has any special identity, we speculate on his
+peculiar way of bearing his misfortune; and are thus led on to place
+ourselves in his position, and imagine ourselves the sufferers.
+
+Major Daniel, the senior marine officer of the ‘Blonde,’ was a reserved
+and taciturn man.  He was quiet and gentlemanlike, always very neat in
+his dress; rather severe, still kind to his men.  His aloofness was in no
+wise due to lack of ideas, nor, I should say, to pride—unless, perhaps,
+it were the pride which some men feel in suppressing all emotion by
+habitual restraint of manner.  Whether his _sangfroid_ was
+constitutional, or that nobler kind of courage which feels and masters
+timidity and the sense of danger, none could tell.  Certain it is he was
+as calm and self-possessed in action as in repose.  He was so courteous
+one fancied he would almost have apologised to his foe before he
+remorselessly ran him through.
+
+On our second visit to Amoy, a year or more after the first, we met with
+a warmer reception.  The place was much more strongly fortified, and the
+ship was several-times hulled.  We were at very close quarters, as it is
+necessary to pass under high ground as the harbour is entered.  Those who
+had the option, excepting our gallant old captain, naturally kept under
+shelter of the bulwarks and hammock nettings.  Not so Major Daniel.  He
+stood in the open gangway watching the effect of the shells, as though he
+were looking at a game of billiards.  While thus occupied a round shot
+struck him full in the face, and simply left him headless.
+
+Another accident, partly due to an ignorance of dynamics, happened at the
+taking of Canton.  The whole of the naval brigade was commanded by Sir
+Thomas Bouchier.  Our men were lying under the ridge of a hill protected
+from the guns on the city walls.  Fully exposed to the fire, which was
+pretty hot, ‘old Tommy’ as we called him, paced to and fro with
+contemptuous indifference, stopping occasionally to spy the enemy with
+his long ship’s telescope.  A number of bluejackets, in reserve, were
+stationed about half a mile further off at the bottom of the protecting
+hill.  They were completely screened from the fire by some buildings of
+the suburbs abutting upon the slope.  Those in front were watching the
+cannon-balls which had struck the crest and were rolling as it were by
+mere force of gravitation down the hillside.  Some jokes were made about
+football, when suddenly a smart and popular young officer—Fox, first
+lieutenant of one of the brigs—jumped out at one of these spent balls,
+which looked as though it might have been picked up by the hands, and
+gave it a kick.  It took his foot off just above the ankle.  There was no
+surgeon at hand, and he was bleeding to death before one could be found.
+Sir Thomas had come down the hill, and seeing the wounded officer on the
+ground with a group around him, said in passing, ‘Well, Fox, this is a
+bad job, but it will make up the pair of epaulets, which is something.’
+
+‘Yes sir,’ said the dying man feebly, ‘but without a pair of legs.’  Half
+an hour later he was dead.
+
+I have spoken lightly of courage, as if, by implication, I myself
+possessed it.  Let me make a confession.  From my soul I pity the man who
+is or has been such a miserable coward as I was in my infancy, and up to
+this youthful period of my life.  No fear of bullets or bayonets could
+ever equal mine.  It was the fear of ghosts.  As a child, I think that at
+times when shut up for punishment, in a dark cellar for instance, I must
+have nearly gone out of my mind with this appalling terror.
+
+Once when we were lying just below Whampo, the captain took nearly every
+officer and nearly the whole ship’s crew on a punitive expedition up the
+Canton river.  They were away about a week.  I was left behind,
+dangerously ill with fever and ague.  In his absence, Sir Thomas had had
+me put into his cabin, where I lay quite alone day and night, seeing
+hardly anyone save the surgeon and the captain’s steward, who was himself
+a shadow, pretty nigh.  Never shall I forget my mental sufferings at
+night.  In vain may one attempt to describe what one then goes through;
+only the victims know what that is.  My ghost—the ghost of the Whampo
+Reach—the ghost of those sultry and miasmal nights, had no shape, no
+vaporous form; it was nothing but a presence, a vague amorphous dread.
+It may have floated with the swollen and putrid corpses which hourly came
+bobbing down the stream, but it never appeared; for there was nothing to
+appear.  Still it might appear.  I expected every instant through the
+night to see it in some inconceivable form.  I expected it to touch me.
+It neither stalked upon the deck, nor hovered in the dark, nor moved, nor
+rested anywhere.  And yet it was there about me,—where, I knew not.  On
+every side I was threatened.  I feared it most behind the head of my cot,
+because I could not see it if it were so.
+
+This, it will be said, is the description of a nightmare.  Exactly so.
+My agony of fright was a nightmare; but a nightmare when every sense was
+strained with wakefulness, when all the powers of imagination were
+concentrated to paralyse my shattered reason.
+
+The experience here spoken of is so common in some form or other that we
+may well pause to consider it.  What is the meaning of this fear of
+ghosts?—how do we come by it?  It may be thought that its cradle is our
+own, that we are purposely frightened in early childhood to keep us calm
+and quiet.  But I do not believe that nurses’ stories would excite dread
+of the unknown if the unknown were not already known.  The susceptibility
+to this particular terror is there before the terror is created.  A
+little reflection will convince us that we must look far deeper for the
+solution of a mystery inseparable from another, which is of the last
+importance to all of us.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+THE belief in phantoms, ghosts, or spirits, has frequently been discussed
+in connection with speculations on the origin of religion.  According to
+Mr. Spencer (‘Principles of Sociology’) ‘the first traceable conception
+of a supernatural being is the conception of a ghost.’  Even Fetichism is
+‘an extension of the ghost theory.’  The soul of the Fetich ‘in common
+with supernatural agents at large, is originally the double of a dead
+man.’  How do we get this notion—‘the double of a dead man?’  Through
+dreams.  In the Old Testament we are told: ‘God came to’ Abimelech,
+Laban, Solomon, and others ‘in a dream’; also that ‘the angel of the
+Lord’ appeared to Joseph ‘in a dream.’  That is to say, these men dreamed
+that God came to them.  So the savage, who dreams of his dead
+acquaintance, believes he has been visited by the dead man’s spirit.
+This belief in ghosts is confirmed, Mr. Spencer argues, by other
+phenomena.  The savage who faints from the effect of a wound sustained in
+fight looks just like the dead man beside him.  The spirit of the wounded
+man returns after a long or short period of absence: why should the
+spirit of the other not do likewise?  If reanimation follows comatose
+states, why should it not follow death?  Insensibility is but an affair
+of time.  All the modes of preserving the dead, in the remotest ages,
+evince the belief in casual separation of body and soul, and of their
+possible reunion.
+
+Take another theory.  Comte tells us there is a primary tendency in man
+‘to transfer the sense of his own nature, in the radical explanation of
+all phenomena whatever.’  Writing in the same key, Schopenhauer calls man
+‘a metaphysical animal.’  He is speaking of the need man feels of a
+theory, in regard to the riddle of existence, which forces itself upon
+his notice; ‘a need arising from the consciousness that behind the
+physical in the world, there is a metaphysical something permanent as the
+foundation of constant change.’  Though not here alluding to the ghost
+theory, this bears indirectly on the conception, as I shall proceed to
+show.
+
+We need not entangle ourselves in the vexed question of innate ideas, nor
+inquire whether the principle of casuality is, as Kant supposed, like
+space and time, a form of intuition given _a priori_.  That every change
+has a cause must necessarily (without being thus formulated) be one of
+the initial beliefs of conscious beings far lower in the scale than man,
+whether derived solely from experience or otherwise.  The reed that
+shakes is obviously shaken by the wind.  But the riddle of the wind also
+forces itself into notice; and man explains this by transferring to the
+wind ‘the sense of his own nature.’  Thunderstorms, volcanic
+disturbances, ocean waves, running streams, the motions of the heavenly
+bodies, had to be accounted for as involving change.  And the natural—the
+primitive—explanation was by reference to life, analogous, if not
+similar, to our own.  Here then, it seems to me, we have the true origin
+of the belief in ghosts.
+
+Take an illustration which supports this view.  While sitting in my
+garden the other day a puff of wind blew a lady’s parasol across the
+lawn.  It rolled away close to a dog lying quietly in the sun.  The dog
+looked at it for a moment, but seeing nothing to account for its
+movements, barked nervously, put its tail between its legs, and ran away,
+turning occasionally to watch and again bark, with every sign of fear.
+
+This was animism.  The dog must have accounted for the eccentric
+behaviour of the parasol by endowing it with an uncanny spirit.  The
+horse that shies at inanimate objects by the roadside, and will sometimes
+dash itself against a tree or a wall, is actuated by a similar
+superstition.  Is there any essential difference between this belief of
+the dog or horse and the belief of primitive man?  I maintain that an
+intuitive animistic tendency (which Mr. Spencer repudiates), and not
+dreams, lies at the root of all spiritualism.  Would Mr. Spencer have had
+us believe that the dog’s fear of the rolling parasol was a logical
+deduction from its canine dreams?  This would scarcely elucidate the
+problem.  The dog and the horse share apparently Schopenhauer’s
+metaphysical propensity with man.
+
+The familiar aphorism of Statius: _Primus in orbe Deos fecit timor_,
+points to the relation of animism first to the belief in ghosts, thence
+to Polytheism, and ultimately to Monotheism.  I must apologise to those
+of the transcendental school who, like Max Müller for instance
+(Introduction to the ‘Science of Religion’), hold that we have ‘a
+primitive intuition of God’; which, after all, the professor derives,
+like many others, from the ‘yearning for something that neither sense nor
+reason can supply’; and from the assumption that ‘there was in the heart
+of man from the very first a feeling of incompleteness, of weakness, of
+dependency, &c.’  All this, I take it, is due to the aspirations of a
+much later creature than the ‘Pithecanthropus erectus,’ to whom we here
+refer.
+
+Probably spirits and ghosts were originally of an evil kind.  Sir John
+Lubbock (‘The Origin of Civilisation’) says: ‘The baying of the dog to
+the moon is as much an act of worship as some ceremonies which have been
+so described by travellers.’  I think he would admit that fear is the
+origin of the worship.  In his essay on ‘Superstition,’ Hume writes:
+‘Weakness, fear, melancholy, together with ignorance, are the true
+sources of superstition.’  Also ‘in such a state of mind, infinite
+unknown evils are dreaded from unknown agents.’
+
+Man’s impotence to resist the forces of nature, and their terrible
+ability to injure him, would inspire a sense of terror; which in turn
+would give rise to the twofold notion of omnipotence and malignity.  The
+savage of the present day lives in perpetual fear of evil spirits; and
+the superstitious dread, which I and most others have suffered, is
+inherited from our savage ancestry.  How much further back we must seek
+it may be left to the sage philosophers of the future.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+THE next winter we lay for a couple of months off Chinhai, which we had
+stormed, blockading the mouth of the Ningpo river.  Here, I regret to
+think, I committed an act which has often haunted my conscience as a
+crime; although I had frequently promised the captain of a gun a glass of
+grog to let me have a shot, and was mightily pleased if death and
+destruction rewarded my aim.
+
+Off Chinhai, lorchers and fast sailing junks laden with merchandise would
+try to run the blockade before daylight.  And it sometimes happened that
+we youngsters had a long chase in a cutter to overhaul them.  This meant
+getting back to a nine or ten o’clock breakfast at the end of the
+morning’s watch; equivalent to five or six hours’ duty on an empty
+stomach.
+
+One cold morning I had a hard job to stop a small junk.  The men were
+sweating at their oars like galley slaves, and muttering curses at the
+apparent futility of their labour.  I had fired a couple of shots from a
+‘brown Bess’—the musket of the day—through the fugitive’s sails; and
+fearing punishment if I let her escape, I next aimed at the boat herself.
+Down came the mainsail in a crack.  When I boarded our capture, I found I
+had put a bullet through the thigh of the man at the tiller.  Boys are
+not much troubled with scruples about bloodguiltiness, and not
+unfrequently are very cruel, for cruelty as a rule (with exceptions)
+mostly proceeds from thoughtlessness.  But when I realised what I had
+done, and heard the wretched man groan, I was seized with remorse for
+what, at a more hardened stage, I should have excused on the score of
+duty.
+
+It was during this blockade that the accident, which I have already
+alluded to, befell my dear protector, Jack Johnson.
+
+One night, during his and my middle watch, the forecastle sentries hailed
+a large sampan, like a Thames barge, drifting down stream and threatening
+to foul us.  Sir Frederick Nicholson, the officer of the watch, ordered
+Johnson to take the cutter and tow her clear.
+
+I begged leave to go with him.  Sir Frederick refused, for he at once
+suspected mischief.  The sampan was reached and diverted just before she
+swung athwart our bows.  But scarcely was this achieved, when an
+explosion took place.  My friend was knocked over, and one or two of the
+men fell back into the cutter.  This is what had happened: Johnson
+finding no one in the sampan, cautiously raised one of the deck hatches
+with a boat-hook before he left the cutter.  The mine (for such it
+proved) was so arranged that examination of this kind drew a lighted
+match on to the magazine, which instantly exploded.
+
+Poor Jack! what was my horror when we got him on board!  Every trace of
+his handsome features was gone.  He was alive, and that seemed to be all.
+In a few minutes his head and face swelled so that all was a round black
+charred ball.  One could hardly see where the eyes were, buried beneath
+the powder-ingrained and incrusted flesh.
+
+For weeks, at night, I used to sit on a chest near his hammock, listening
+for his slightest movement, too happy if he called me for something I
+could get him.  In time he recovered, and was invalided home, and I lost
+my dear companion and protector.  A couple of years afterwards I had the
+happiness to dine with him on board another ship in Portsmouth, no longer
+in the midshipman’s berth, but in the wardroom.
+
+Twice during this war, the ‘Blonde’ was caught in a typhoon.  The first
+time was in waters now famous, but then unknown, the Gulf of Liau-tung,
+in full sight of China’s great wall.  We were twenty-four hours battened
+down, and under storm staysails.  The ‘Blenheim,’ with Captain Elliott
+our plenipotentiary on board, was with us, and the one circumstance left
+in my memory is the sight of a line-of-battle ship rolling and pitching
+so that one caught sight of the whole of her keel from stem to stern as
+if she had been a fishing smack.  We had been wintering in the Yellow
+Sea, and at the time I speak of were on a foraging expedition round the
+Liau-tung peninsula.  Those who have followed the events of the Japanese
+war will have noticed on the map, not far north of Ta-lien-wan in the
+Korean Bay, three groups of islands.  So little was the geography of
+these parts then known, that they had no place on our charts.  On this
+very occasion, one group was named after Captain Elliott, one was called
+the Bouchier Islands, and the other the Blonde Islands.  The first
+surveying of the two latter groups, and the placing of them upon the map,
+was done by our naval instructor, and he always took me with him as his
+assistant.
+
+Our second typhoon was while we were at anchor in Hong Kong harbour.
+Those who have knowledge only of the gales, however violent, of our
+latitudes, have no conception of what wind-force can mount to.  To be the
+toy of it is enough to fill the stoutest heart with awe.  The harbour was
+full of transports, merchant ships, opium clippers, besides four or five
+men-of-war, and a steamer belonging to the East India Company—the first
+steamship I had ever seen.
+
+The coming of a typhoon is well known to the natives at least twenty-four
+hours beforehand, and every preparation is made for it.  Boats are
+dragged far up the beach; buildings even are fortified for resistance.
+Every ship had laid out its anchors, lowered its yards, and housed its
+topmasts.  We had both bowers down, with cables paid out to extreme
+length.  The danger was either in drifting on shore or, what was more
+imminent, collision.  When once the tornado struck us there was nothing
+more to be done; no men could have worked on deck.  The seas broke by
+tons over all; boats beached as described were lifted from the ground,
+and hurled, in some instances, over the houses.  The air was darkened by
+the spray.
+
+But terrible as was the raging of wind and water, far more awful was the
+vain struggle for life of the human beings who succumbed to it.  In a
+short time almost all the ships except the men-of-war, which were better
+provided with anchors, began to drift from their moorings.  Then wreck
+followed wreck.  I do not think the ‘Blonde’ moved; but from first to
+last we were threatened with the additional weight and strain of a
+drifting vessel.  Had we been so hampered our anchorage must have given
+way.  As a single example of the force of a typhoon, the ‘Phlegethon’
+with three anchors down, and engines working at full speed, was blown
+past us out of the harbour.
+
+One tragic incident I witnessed, which happened within a few fathoms of
+the ‘Blonde.’  An opium clipper had drifted athwart the bow of a large
+merchantman, which in turn was almost foul of us.  In less than five
+minutes the clipper sank.  One man alone reappeared on the surface.  He
+was so close, that from where I was holding on and crouching under the
+lee of the mainmast I could see the expression of his face.  He was a
+splendidly built man, and his strength and activity must have been
+prodigious.  He clung to the cable of the merchantman, which he had
+managed to clasp.  As the vessel reared between the seas he gained a few
+feet before he was again submerged.  At last he reached the hawse-hole.
+Had he hoped, in spite of his knowledge, to find it large enough to admit
+his body?  He must have known the truth; and yet he struggled on.  Did he
+hope that, when thus within arms’ length of men in safety, some pitying
+hand would be stretched out to rescue him,—a rope’s end perhaps flung out
+to haul him inboard?  Vain desperate hope!  He looked upwards: an
+imploring look.  Would Heaven be more compassionate than man?  A mountain
+of sea towered above his head; and when again the bow was visible, the
+man was gone for ever.
+
+Before taking leave of my seafaring days, I must say one word about
+corporal punishment.  Sir Thomas Bouchier was a good sailor, a gallant
+officer, and a kind-hearted man; but he was one of the old school.
+Discipline was his watchword, and he endeavoured to maintain it by
+severity.  I dare say that, on an average, there was a man flogged as
+often as once a month during the first two years the ‘Blonde’ was in
+commission.  A flogging on board a man-of-war with a ‘cat,’ the nine
+tails of which were knotted, and the lashes of which were slowly
+delivered, up to the four dozen, at the full swing of the arm, and at the
+extremity of lash and handle, was very severe punishment.  Each knot
+brought blood, and the shock of the blow knocked the breath out of a man
+with an involuntary ‘Ugh!’ however stoically he bore the pain.
+
+I have seen many a bad man flogged for unpardonable conduct, and many a
+good man for a glass of grog too much.  My firm conviction is that the
+bad man was very little the better; the good man very much the worse.
+The good man felt the disgrace, and was branded for life.  His
+self-esteem was permanently maimed, and he rarely held up his head or did
+his best again.  Besides which,—and this is true of all punishment—any
+sense of injustice destroys respect for the punisher.  Still I am no
+sentimentalist; I have a contempt for, and even a dread of,
+sentimentalism.  For boy housebreakers, and for ruffians who commit
+criminal assaults, the rod or the lash is the only treatment.
+
+A comic piece of insubordination on my part recurs to me in connection
+with flogging.  About the year 1840 or 1841, a midshipman on the Pacific
+station was flogged.  I think the ship was the ‘Peak.’  The event created
+some sensation, and was brought before Parliament.  Two frigates were
+sent out to furnish a quorum of post-captains to try the responsible
+commander.  The verdict of the court-martial was a severe reprimand.
+This was, of course, nuts to every midshipman in the service.
+
+Shortly after it became known I got into a scrape for laughing at, and
+disobeying the orders of, our first-lieutenant,—the head of the executive
+on board a frigate.  As a matter of fact, the orders were ridiculous, for
+the said officer was tipsy.  Nevertheless, I was reported, and had up
+before the captain.  ‘Old Tommy’ was, or affected to be, very angry.  I
+am afraid I was very ‘cheeky.’  Whereupon Sir Thomas did lose his temper,
+and threatened to send for the boatswain to tie me up and give me a
+dozen,—not on the back, but where the back leaves off.  Undismayed by the
+threat, and mindful of the episode of the ‘Peak’ (?) I looked the old
+gentleman in the face, and shrilly piped out, ‘It’s as much as your
+commission is worth, sir.’  In spite of his previous wrath, he was so
+taken aback by my impudence that he burst out laughing, and, to hide it,
+kicked me out of the cabin.
+
+After another severe attack of fever, and during a long convalescence, I
+was laid up at Macao, where I enjoyed the hospitality of Messrs. Dent and
+of Messrs. Jardine and Matheson.  Thence I was invalided home, and took
+my passage to Bombay in one of the big East India tea-ships.  As I was
+being carried up the side in the arms of one of the boatmen, I overheard
+another exclaim: ‘Poor little beggar.  He’ll never see land again!’
+
+The only other passenger was Colonel Frederick Cotton, of the Madras
+Engineers, one of a distinguished family.  He, too, had been through the
+China campaign, and had also broken down.  We touched at Manila, Batavia,
+Singapore, and several other ports in the Malay Archipelago, to take in
+cargo.  While that was going on, Cotton, the captain, and I made
+excursions inland.  Altogether I had a most pleasant time of it till we
+reached Bombay.
+
+My health was now re-established; and after a couple of weeks at Bombay,
+where I lived in a merchant’s house, Cotton took me to Poonah and
+Ahmadnagar; in both of which places I stayed with his friends, and messed
+with the regiments.  Here a copy of the ‘Times’ was put into my hands;
+and I saw a notice of the death of my father.
+
+After a fortnight’s quarantine at La Valetta, where two young
+Englishmen—one an Oxford man—shared the same rooms in the fort with me,
+we three returned to England; and (I suppose few living people can say
+the same) travelled from Naples to Calais before there was a single
+railway on the Continent.
+
+At the end of two months’ leave in England I was appointed to the
+‘Caledonia,’ flagship at Plymouth.  Sir Thomas Bouchier had written to
+the Admiral, Sir Edward Codrington, of Navarino fame (whose daughter Sir
+Thomas afterwards married), giving me ‘a character.’  Sir Edward sent for
+me, and was most kind.  He told me I was to go to the Pacific in the
+first ship that left for South America, which would probably be in a week
+or two; and he gave me a letter to his friend, Admiral Thomas, who
+commanded on that station.
+
+About this time, and for a year or two later, the relations between
+England and America were severely strained by what was called ‘the Oregon
+question.’  The dispute was concerning the right of ownership of the
+mouth of the Columbia river, and of Vancouver’s Island.  The President as
+well as the American people took the matter up very warmly; and much
+discretion was needed to avert the outbreak of hostilities.
+
+In Sir Edward’s letter, which he read out and gave to me open, he
+requested Admiral Thomas to put me into any ship ‘that was likely to see
+service’; and quoted a word or two from my dear old captain Sir Thomas,
+which would probably have given me a lift.
+
+The prospect before me was brilliant.  What could be more delectable than
+the chance of a war?  My fancy pictured all sorts of opportunities,
+turned to the best account,—my seniors disposed of, and myself, with a
+pair of epaulets, commanding the smartest brig in the service.
+
+Alack-a-day! what a climb down from such high flights my life has been.
+The ship in which I was to have sailed to the west was suddenly
+countermanded to the east.  She was to leave for China the following
+week, and I was already appointed to her, not even as a ‘super.’
+
+My courage and my ambition were wrecked at a blow.  The notion of
+returning for another three years to China, where all was now peaceful
+and stale to me, the excitement of the war at an end, every port
+reminding me of my old comrades, visions of renewed fevers and horrible
+food,—were more than I could stand.
+
+I instantly made up my mind to leave the Navy.  It was a wilful, and
+perhaps a too hasty, impulse.  But I am impulsive by nature; and now that
+my father was dead, I fancied myself to a certain extent my own master.
+I knew moreover, by my father’s will, that I should not be dependent upon
+a profession.  Knowledge of such a fact has been the ruin of many a
+better man than I.  I have no virtuous superstitions in favour of
+poverty—quite the reverse—but I am convinced that the rich man, who has
+never had to earn his position or his living, is more to be pitied and
+less respected than the poor man whose comforts certainly, if not his
+bread, have depended on his own exertions.
+
+My mother had a strong will of her own, and I could not guess what line
+she might take.  I also apprehended the opposition of my guardians.  On
+the whole, I opined a woman’s heart would be the most suitable for an
+appeal _ad misericordiam_.  So I pulled out the agony stop, and worked
+the pedals of despair with all the anguish at my command.
+
+‘It was easy enough for her to _revel in luxury_ and consign me to a life
+worse than a _convict’s_.  But how would _she_ like to live on _salt
+junk_, to keep _night watches_, to have to cut up her blankets for
+_ponchos_ (I knew she had never heard the word, and that it would tell
+accordingly), to save her from being _frozen to death_?  How would _she_
+like to be mast-headed when a ship was rolling gunwale under?  As to the
+wishes of my guardians, were _their feelings_ to be considered before
+mine?  I should like to see Lord Rosebery or Lord Spencer in my place!
+They’d very soon wish they had a mother who &c. &c.’
+
+When my letter was finished I got leave to go ashore to post it.  Feeling
+utterly miserable, I had my hair cut; and, rendered perfectly reckless by
+my appearance, I consented to have what was left of it tightly curled
+with a pair of tongs.  I cannot say that I shared in any sensible degree
+the pleasure which this operation seemed to give to the artist.  But when
+I got back to the ship the sight of my adornment kept my messmates in an
+uproar for the rest of the afternoon.
+
+Whether the touching appeal to my mother produced tears, or of what kind,
+matters little; it effectually determined my career.  Before my new ship
+sailed for China, I was home again, and in full possession of my coveted
+freedom as a civilian.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+IT was settled that after a course of three years at a private tutor’s I
+was to go to Cambridge.  The life I had led for the past three years was
+not the best training for the fellow-pupil of lads of fifteen or sixteen
+who had just left school.  They were much more ready to follow my lead
+than I theirs, especially as mine was always in the pursuit of pleasure.
+
+I was first sent to Mr. B.’s, about a couple of miles from Alnwick.
+Before my time, Alnwick itself was considered out of bounds.  But as
+nearly half the sin in this world consists in being found out, my
+companions and I managed never to commit any in this direction.
+
+We generally returned from the town with a bottle of some noxious
+compound called ‘port’ in our pockets, which was served out in our
+‘study’ at night, while I read aloud the instructive adventures of Mr.
+Thomas Jones.  We were, of course, supposed to employ these late hours in
+preparing our work for the morrow.  One boy only protested that, under
+the combined seductions of the port and Miss Molly Seagrim, he could
+never make his verses scan.
+
+Another of our recreations was poaching.  From my earliest days I was
+taught to shoot, myself and my brothers being each provided with his
+little single-barrelled flint and steel ‘Joe Manton.’  At — we were
+surrounded by grouse moors on one side, and by well-preserved coverts on
+the other.  The grouse I used to shoot in the evening while they fed
+amongst the corn stooks; for pheasants and hares, I used to get the other
+pupils to walk through the woods, while I with a gun walked outside.
+Scouts were posted to look out for keepers.
+
+Did our tutor know?  Of course he knew.  But think of the saving in the
+butcher’s bill!  Besides which, Mr. B. was otherwise preoccupied; he was
+in love with Mrs. B.  I say ‘in love,’ for although I could not be sure
+of it then, (having no direct experience of the _amantium iræ_,)
+subsequent observation has persuaded me that their perpetual quarrels
+could mean nothing else.  This was exceedingly favourable to the
+independence of Mr. B.’s pupils.  But when asked by Mr. Ellice how I was
+getting on, I was forced in candour to admit that I was in a fair way to
+forget all I ever knew.
+
+By the advice of Lord Spencer I was next placed under the tuition of one
+of the minor canons of Ely.  The Bishop of Ely—Dr. Allen—had been Lord
+Spencer’s tutor, hence his elevation to the see.  The Dean—Dr. Peacock,
+of algebraic and Trinity College fame—was good enough to promise ‘to keep
+an eye’ on me.  Lord Spencer himself took me to Ely; and there I remained
+for two years.  They were two very important years of my life.  Having no
+fellow pupil to beguile me, I was the more industrious.  But it was not
+from the better acquaintance with ancient literature that I mainly
+benefited,—it was from my initiation to modern thought.  I was a constant
+guest at the Deanery; where I frequently met such men as Sedgwick, Airey
+the Astronomer-Royal, Selwyn, Phelps the Master of Sydney, Canon
+Heaviside the master of Haileybury, and many other friends of the Dean’s,
+distinguished in science, literature, and art.  Here I heard discussed
+opinions on these subjects by some of their leading representatives.
+Naturally, as many of them were Churchmen, conversation often turned on
+the bearing of modern science, of geology especially if Sedgwick were of
+the party, upon Mosaic cosmogony, or Biblical exegesis generally.
+
+The knowledge of these learned men, the lucidity with which they
+expressed their views, and the earnestness with which they defended them,
+captivated my attention, and opened to me a new world of surpassing
+interest and gravity.
+
+What startled me most was the spirit in which a man of Sedgwick’s
+intellectual power protested against the possible encroachments of his
+own branch of science upon the orthodox tenets of the Church.  Just about
+this time an anonymous book appeared, which, though long since forgotten,
+caused no slight disturbance amongst dogmatic theologians.  The tendency
+of this book, ‘Vestiges of the Creation,’ was, or was then held to be,
+antagonistic to the arguments from design.  Familiar as we now are with
+the theory of evolution, such a work as the ‘Vestiges’ would no more stir
+the _odium theologicum_ than Franklin’s kite.  Sedgwick, however,
+attacked it with a vehemence and a rancour that would certainly have
+roasted its author had the professor held the office of Grand Inquisitor.
+
+Though incapable of forming any opinion as to the scientific merits of
+such a book, or of Hugh Miller’s writings, which he also attacked upon
+purely religious grounds, I was staggered by the fact that the Bible
+could possibly be impeached, or that it was not profanity to defend it
+even.  Was it not the ‘Word of God’?  And if so, how could any theories
+of creation, any historical, any philological researches, shake its
+eternal truth?
+
+Day and night I pondered over this new revelation.  I bought the
+books—the wicked books—which nobody ought to read.  The _Index
+Expurgatorius_ became my guide for books to be digested.  I laid hands on
+every heretical work I could hear of.  By chance I made the acquaintance
+of a young man who, together with his family, were Unitarians.  I got,
+and devoured, Channing’s works.  I found a splendid copy of Voltaire in
+the Holkham library, and hunted through the endless volumes, till I came
+to the ‘Dialogues Philosophiques.’  The world is too busy, fortunately,
+to disturb its peace with such profane satire, such withering sarcasm as
+flashes through an ‘entretien’ like that between ‘Frère Rigolet’ and
+‘L’Empereur de la Chine.’  Every French man of letters knows it by heart;
+but it would wound our English susceptibilities were I to cite it here.
+Then, too, the impious paraphrase of the Athanasian Creed, with its
+terrible climax, from the converting Jesuit: ‘Or vous voyez bien . . .
+qu’un homme qui ne croit pas cette histoire doit être brûlé dans ce monde
+ci, et dans l’autre.’  To which ‘L’Empereur’ replies: ‘Ça c’est clair
+comme le jour.’
+
+Could an ignorant youth, fevered with curiosity and the first goadings of
+the questioning spirit, resist such logic, such scorn, such scathing wit,
+as he met with here?
+
+Then followed Rousseau; ‘Emile’ became my favourite.  Froude’s ‘Nemesis
+of Faith’ I read, and many other books of a like tendency.  Passive
+obedience, blind submission to authority, was never one of my virtues,
+and once my faith was shattered, I knew not where to stop—what to doubt,
+what to believe.  If the injunction to ‘prove all things’ was anything
+more than an empty apophthegm, inquiry, in St. Paul’s eyes at any rate,
+could not be sacrilege.
+
+It was not happiness I sought,—not peace of mind at least; for assuredly
+my thirst for knowledge, for truth, brought me anything but peace.  I
+never was more restless, or, at times, more unhappy.  Shallow, indeed,
+must be the soul that can lightly sever itself from beliefs which lie at
+the roots of our moral, intellectual, and emotional being, sanctified too
+by associations of our earliest love and reverence.  I used to wander
+about the fields, and sit for hours in sequestered spots, longing for
+some friend, some confidant to take counsel with.  I knew no such friend.
+I did not dare to speak of my misgivings to others.  In spite of my
+earnest desire for guidance, for more light, the strong grip of
+childhood’s influences was impossible to shake off.  I could not rid my
+conscience of the sin of doubt.
+
+It is this difficulty, this primary dependence on others, which develops
+into the child’s first religion, that perpetuates the infantile character
+of human creeds; and, what is worse, generates the hideous bigotry which
+justifies that sad reflection of Lucretius: ‘Tantum Religio potuit
+suadere malorum!’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+TO turn again to narrative, and to far less serious thoughts.  The last
+eighteen months before I went to Cambridge, I was placed, or rather
+placed myself, under the tuition of Mr. Robert Collyer, rector of Warham,
+a living close to Holkham in the gift of my brother Leicester.  Between
+my Ely tutor and myself there was but little sympathy.  He was a man of
+much refinement, but with not much indulgence for such aberrant
+proclivities as mine.  Without my knowledge, he wrote to Mr. Ellice
+lamenting my secret recusancy, and its moral dangers.  Mr. Ellice came
+expressly from London, and stayed a night at Ely.  He dined with us in
+the cloisters, and had a long private conversation with my tutor, and,
+before he left, with me.  I indignantly resented the clandestine
+representations of Mr. S., and, without a word to Mr. Ellice or to anyone
+else, wrote next day to Mr. Collyer to beg him to take me in at Warham,
+and make what he could of me, before I went to Cambridge.  It may here be
+said that Mr. Collyer had been my father’s chaplain, and had lived at
+Holkham for several years as family tutor to my brothers and myself, as
+we in turn left the nursery.  Mr. Collyer, upon receipt of my letter,
+referred the matter to Mr. Ellice; with his approval I was duly installed
+at Warham.  Before describing my time there, I must tell of an incident
+which came near to affecting me in a rather important way.
+
+My mother lived at Longford in Derbyshire, an old place, now my home,
+which had come into the Coke family in James I.’s reign, through the
+marriage of a son of Chief Justice Coke’s with the heiress of the De
+Langfords, an ancient family from that time extinct.  While staying there
+during my summer holidays, my mother confided to me that she had had an
+offer of marriage from Mr. Motteux, the owner of considerable estates in
+Norfolk, including two houses—Beachamwell and Sandringham.  Mr.
+Motteux—‘Johnny Motteux,’ as he was called—was, like Tristram Shandy’s
+father, the son of a wealthy ‘Turkey merchant,’ which, until better
+informed, I always took to mean a dealer in poultry.  ‘Johnny,’ like
+another man of some notoriety, whom I well remember in my younger
+days—Mr. Creevey—had access to many large houses such as Holkham; not,
+like Creevey, for the sake of his scandalous tongue, but for the sake of
+his wealth.  He had no (known) relatives; and big people, who had younger
+sons to provide for, were quite willing that one of them should be his
+heir.  Johnny Motteux was an epicure with the best of _chefs_.  His
+capons came from Paris, his salmon from Christchurch, and his Strasburg
+pies were made to order.  One of these he always brought with him as a
+present to my mother, who used to say, ‘Mr. Motteux evidently thinks the
+nearest way to my heart is down my throat.’
+
+A couple of years after my father’s death, Motteux wrote to my mother
+proposing marriage, and, to enhance his personal attractions, (in figure
+and dress he was a duplicate of the immortal Pickwick,) stated that he
+had made his will and had bequeathed Sandringham to me, adding that,
+should he die without issue, I was to inherit the remainder of his
+estates.
+
+Rather to my surprise, my mother handed the letter to me with evident
+signs of embarrassment and distress.  My first exclamation was: ‘How
+jolly!  The shooting’s first rate, and the old boy is over seventy, if
+he’s a day.’
+
+My mother apparently did not see it in this light.  She clearly, to my
+disappointments did not care for the shooting; and my exultation only
+brought tears into her eyes.
+
+‘Why, mother,’ I exclaimed, ‘what’s up?  Don’t you—don’t you care for
+Johnny Motteux?’
+
+She confessed that she did not.
+
+‘Then why don’t you tell him so, and not bother about his beastly
+letter?’
+
+‘If I refuse him you will lose Sandringham.’
+
+‘But he says here he has already left it to me.’
+
+‘He will alter his will.’
+
+‘Let him!’ cried I, flying out at such prospective meanness.  ‘Just you
+tell him you don’t care a rap for him or for Sandringham either.’
+
+In more lady-like terms she acted in accordance with my advice; and, it
+may be added, not long afterwards married Mr. Ellice.
+
+Mr. Motteux’s first love, or one of them, had been Lady Cowper, then Lady
+Palmerston.  Lady Palmerston’s youngest son was Mr. Spencer Cowper.  Mr.
+Motteux died a year or two after the above event.  He made a codicil to
+his will, and left Sandringham and all his property to Mr. Spencer
+Cowper.  Mr. Spencer Cowper was a young gentleman of costly habits.
+Indeed, he bore the slightly modified name of ‘Expensive Cowper.’  As an
+attaché at Paris he was famous for his patronage of dramatic art—or
+artistes rather; the votaries of Terpsichore were especially indebted to
+his liberality.  At the time of Mr. Motteux’s demise, he was attached to
+the Embassy at St. Petersburg.  Mr. Motteux’s solicitors wrote
+immediately to inform him of his accession to their late client’s wealth.
+It being one of Mr. Cowper’s maxims never to read lawyers’ letters, (he
+was in daily receipt of more than he could attend to,) he flung this one
+unread into the fire; and only learnt his mistake through the
+congratulations of his family.
+
+The Prince Consort happened about this time to be in quest of a suitable
+country seat for his present Majesty; and Sandringham, through the adroit
+negotiations of Lord Palmerston, became the property of the Prince of
+Wales.  The soul of the ‘Turkey merchant,’ we cannot doubt, will repose
+in peace.
+
+The worthy rector of Warham St. Mary’s was an oddity deserving of passing
+notice.  Outwardly he was no Adonis.  His plain features and shock head
+of foxy hair, his antiquated and neglected garb, his copious jabot—much
+affected by the clergy of those days—were becoming investitures of the
+inward man.  His temper was inflammatory, sometimes leading to excesses,
+which I am sure he rued in mental sackcloth and ashes.  But visitors at
+Holkham (unaware of the excellent motives and moral courage which
+inspired his conduct) were not a little amazed at the austerity with
+which he obeyed the dictates of his conscience.
+
+For example, one Sunday evening after dinner, when the drawing-room was
+filled with guests, who more or less preserved the decorum which
+etiquette demands in the presence of royalty, (the Duke of Sussex was of
+the party,) Charles Fox and Lady Anson, great-grandmother of the present
+Lord Lichfield, happened to be playing at chess.  When the irascible
+dominie beheld them he pushed his way through the bystanders, swept the
+pieces from the board, and, with rigorous impartiality, denounced these
+impious desecrators of the Sabbath eve.
+
+As an example of his fidelity as a librarian, Mr. Panizzi used to relate
+with much glee how, whenever he was at Holkham, Mr. Collyer dogged him
+like a detective.  One day, not wishing to detain the reverend gentleman
+while he himself spent the forenoon in the manuscript library, (where not
+only the ancient manuscripts, but the most valuable of the printed books,
+are kept under lock and key,) he considerately begged Mr. Collyer to
+leave him to his researches.  The dominie replied ‘that he knew his duty,
+and did not mean to neglect it.’  He did not lose sight of Mr. Panizzi.
+
+The notion that he—the great custodian of the nation’s literary
+treasures—would snip out and pocket the title-page of the folio edition
+of Shakespeare, or of the Coverdale Bible, tickled Mr. Panizzi’s fancy
+vastly.
+
+In spite, however, of our rector’s fiery temperament, or perhaps in
+consequence of it, he was remarkably susceptible to the charms of beauty.
+We were constantly invited to dinner and garden parties in the
+neighbourhood; nor was the good rector slow to return the compliment.  It
+must be confessed that the pupil shared to the full the impressibility of
+the tutor; and, as it happened, unknown to both, the two were in one case
+rivals.
+
+As the young lady afterwards occupied a very distinguished position in
+Oxford society, it can only be said that she was celebrated for her many
+attractions.  She was then sixteen, and the younger of her suitors but
+two years older.  As far as age was concerned, nothing could be more
+compatible.  Nor in the matter of mutual inclination was there any
+disparity whatever.  What, then, was the pupil’s dismay when, after a
+dinner party at the rectory, and the company had left, the tutor, in a
+frantic state of excitement, seized the pupil by both hands, and
+exclaimed: ‘She has accepted me!’
+
+‘Accepted you?’ I asked.  ‘Who has accepted you?’
+
+‘Who?  Why, Miss —, of course!  Who else do you suppose would accept me?’
+
+‘No one,’ said I, with doleful sincerity.  ‘But did you propose to her?
+Did she understand what you said to her?  Did she deliberately and
+seriously say “Yes?”’
+
+‘Yes, yes, yes,’ and his disordered jabot and touzled hair echoed the
+fatal word.
+
+‘O Smintheus of the silver bow!’ I groaned.  ‘It is the woman’s part to
+create delusions, and—destroy them!  To think of it! after all that has
+passed between us these—these three weeks, next Monday!  “Once and for
+ever.”  Did ever woman use such words before?  And I—believed them!’
+‘Did you speak to the mother?’ I asked in a fit of desperation.
+
+‘There was no time for that.  Mrs. — was in the carriage, and I didn’t
+pop [the odious word!] till I was helping her on with her cloak.  The
+cloak, you see, made it less awkward.  My offer was a sort of _obiter
+dictum_—a by-the-way, as it were.’
+
+‘To the carriage, yes.  But wasn’t she taken by surprise?’
+
+‘Not a bit of it.  Bless you! they always know.  She pretended not to
+understand, but that’s a way they have.’
+
+‘And when you explained?’
+
+‘There wasn’t time for more.  She laughed, and sprang into the carriage.’
+
+‘And that was all?’
+
+‘All! would you have had her spring into my arms?’
+
+‘God forbid!  You will have to face the mother to-morrow,’ said I,
+recovering rapidly from my despondency.
+
+‘Face?  Well, I shall have to call upon Mrs. —, if that’s what you mean.
+A mere matter of form.  I shall go over after lunch.  But it needn’t
+interfere with your work.  You can go on with the “Anabasis” till I come
+back.  And remember—_Neaniskos_ is not a proper name, ha! ha! ha!  The
+quadratics will keep till the evening.’  He was merry over his prospects,
+and I was not altogether otherwise.
+
+But there was no Xenophon, no algebra, that day!  Dire was the distress
+of my poor dominie when he found the mother as much bewildered as the
+daughter was frightened, by the mistake.  ‘She,’ the daughter, ‘had never
+for a moment imagined, &c., &c.’
+
+My tutor was not long disheartened by such caprices—so he deemed them, as
+Miss Jemima’s (she had a prettier name, you may be sure), and I did my
+best (it cost me little now) to encourage his fondest hopes.  I proposed
+that we should drink the health of the future mistress of Warham in tea,
+which he cheerfully acceded to, all the more readily, that it gave him an
+opportunity to vent one of his old college jokes.  ‘Yes, yes,’ said he,
+with a laugh, ‘there’s nothing like tea.  _Te veniente die_, _te
+decedente canebam_.’  Such sallies of innocent playfulness often smoothed
+his path in life.  He took a genuine pleasure in his own jokes.  Some men
+do.  One day I dropped a pot of marmalade on a new carpet, and should
+certainly have been reprimanded for carelessness, had it not occurred to
+him to exclaim: ‘_Jam satis terris_!’ and then laugh immoderately at his
+wit.
+
+That there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it, was a
+maxim he acted upon, if he never heard it. Within a month of the above
+incident he proposed to another lady upon the sole grounds that, when
+playing a game of chess, an exchange of pieces being contemplated, she
+innocently, but incautiously, observed, ‘If you take me, I will take
+you.’  He referred the matter next day to my ripe judgment.  As I had no
+partiality for the lady in question, I strongly advised him to accept so
+obvious a challenge, and go down on his knees to her at once.  I laid
+stress on the knees, as the accepted form of declaration, both in novels
+and on the stage.
+
+In this case the beloved object, who was not embarrassed by excess of
+amiability, promptly desired him, when he urged his suit, ‘not to make a
+fool of himself.’
+
+My tutor’s peculiarities, however, were not confined to his endeavours to
+meet with a lady rectoress.  He sometimes surprised his hearers with the
+originality of his abstruse theories.  One morning he called me into the
+stable yard to join in consultation with his gardener as to the
+advisability of killing a pig.  There were two, and it was not easy to
+decide which was the fitter for the butcher.  The rector selected one, I
+the other, and the gardener, who had nurtured both from their tenderest
+age, pleaded that they should be allowed to ‘put on another score.’  The
+point was warmly argued all round.
+
+‘The black sow,’ said I (they were both sows, you must know)—‘The black
+sow had a litter of ten last time, and the white one only six.  Ergo, if
+history repeats itself, as I have heard you say, you should keep the
+black, and sacrifice the white.’
+
+‘But,’ objected the rector, ‘that was the white’s first litter, and the
+black’s second.  Why shouldn’t the white do as well as the black next
+time?’
+
+‘And better, your reverence,’ chimed in the gardener.  ‘The number don’t
+allays depend on the sow, do it?’
+
+‘That is neither here nor there,’ returned the rector.
+
+‘Well,’ said the gardener, who stood to his guns, ‘if your reverence is
+right, as no doubt you will be, that’ll make just twenty little pigs for
+the butcher, come Michaelmas.’
+
+‘We can’t kill ’em before they are born,’ said the rector.
+
+‘That’s true, your reverence.  But it comes to the same thing.’
+
+‘Not to the pigs,’ retorted the rector.
+
+‘To your reverence, I means.’
+
+‘A pig at the butcher’s,’ I suggested, ‘is worth a dozen unborn.’
+
+‘No one can deny it,’ said the rector, as he fingered the small change in
+his breeches pocket; and pointing with the other hand to the broad back
+of the black sow, exclaimed, ‘This is the one, _Duplex agitur per lumbos
+spina_!  She’s got a back like an alderman’s chin.’
+
+‘_Epicuri de grege porcus_,’ I assented, and the fate of the black sow
+was sealed.
+
+Next day an express came from Holkham, to say that Lady Leicester had
+given birth to a daughter.  My tutor jumped out of his chair to hand me
+the note.  ‘Did I not anticipate the event’? he cried.  ‘What a wonderful
+world we live in!  Unconsciously I made room for the infant by
+sacrificing the life of that pig.’  As I never heard him allude to the
+doctrine of Pythagoras, as he had no leaning to Buddhism, and, as I am
+sure he knew nothing of the correlation of forces, it must be admitted
+that the conception was an original one.
+
+Be this as it may, Mr. Collyer was an upright and conscientious man.  I
+owe him much, and respect his memory.  He died at an advanced age, an
+honorary canon, and—a bachelor.
+
+Another portrait hangs amongst the many in my memory’s picture gallery.
+It is that of his successor to the vicarage, the chaplaincy, and the
+librarianship, at Holkham—Mr. Alexander Napier—at this time, and until
+his death fifty years later, one of my closest and most cherished
+friends.  Alexander Napier was the son of Macvey Napier, first editor of
+the ‘Edinburgh Review.’  Thus, associated with many eminent men of
+letters, he also did some good literary work of his own.  He edited Isaac
+Barrow’s works for the University of Cambridge, also Boswell’s ‘Johnson,’
+and gave various other proofs of his talents and his scholarship.  He was
+the most delightful of companions; liberal-minded in the highest degree;
+full of quaint humour and quick sympathy; an excellent parish
+priest,—looking upon Christianity as a life and not a dogma; beloved by
+all, for he had a kind thought and a kind word for every needy or sick
+being in his parish.
+
+With such qualities, the man always predominated over the priest.  Hence
+his large-hearted charity and indulgence for the faults—nay, crimes—of
+others.  Yet, if taken aback by an outrage, or an act of gross stupidity,
+which even the perpetrator himself had to suffer for, he would
+momentarily lose his patience, and rap out an objurgation that would
+stagger the straiter-laced gentlemen of his own cloth, or an outsider who
+knew less of him than—the recording angel.
+
+A fellow undergraduate of Napier’s told me a characteristic anecdote of
+his impetuosity.  Both were Trinity men, and had been keeping high jinks
+at a supper party at Caius.  The friend suddenly pointed to the clock,
+reminding Napier they had but five minutes to get into college before
+Trinity gates were closed.  ‘D—n the clock!’ shouted Napier, and
+snatching up the sugar basin (it was not _eau sucrée_ they were
+drinking), incontinently flung it at the face of the offending timepiece.
+
+This youthful vivacity did not desert him in later years.  An old college
+friend—also a Scotchman—had become Bishop of Edinburgh.  Napier paid him
+a visit (he described it to me himself).  They talked of books, they
+talked of politics, they talked of English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, of
+Brougham, Horner, Wilson, Macaulay, Jeffrey, of Carlyle’s dealings with
+Napier’s father—‘Nosey,’ as Carlyle calls him.  They chatted into the
+small hours of the night, as boon companions, and as what Bacon calls
+‘full’ men, are wont.  The claret, once so famous in the ‘land of cakes,’
+had given place to toddy; its flow was in due measure to the flow of
+soul.  But all that ends is short—the old friends had spent their last
+evening together.  Yes, their last, perhaps.  It was bed-time, and quoth
+Napier to his lordship, ‘I tell you what it is, Bishop, I am na fou’, but
+I’ll be hanged if I haven’t got two left legs.’
+
+‘I see something odd about them,’ says his lordship.  ‘We’d better go to
+bed.’
+
+Who the bishop was I do not know, but I’ll answer for it he was one of
+the right sort.
+
+In 1846 I became an undergraduate of Trinity College, Cambridge.  I do
+not envy the man (though, of course, one ought) whose college days are
+not the happiest to look back upon.  One should hope that however
+profitably a young man spends his time at the University, it is but the
+preparation for something better.  But happiness and utility are not
+necessarily concomitant; and even when an undergraduate’s course is least
+employed for its intended purpose (as, alas! mine was)—for happiness,
+certainly not pure, but simple, give me life at a University.
+
+Heaven forbid that any youth should be corrupted by my confession!  But
+surely there are some pleasures pertaining to this unique epoch that are
+harmless in themselves, and are certainly not to be met with at any
+other.  These are the first years of comparative freedom, of manhood, of
+responsibility.  The novelty, the freshness of every pleasure, the
+unsatiated appetite for enjoyment, the animal vigour, the ignorance of
+care, the heedlessness of, or rather, the implicit faith in, the morrow,
+the absence of mistrust or suspicion, the frank surrender to generous
+impulses, the readiness to accept appearances for realities—to believe in
+every profession or exhibition of good will, to rush into the arms of
+every friendship, to lay bare one’s tenderest secrets, to listen eagerly
+to the revelations which make us all akin, to offer one’s time, one’s
+energies, one’s purse, one’s heart, without a selfish afterthought—these,
+I say, are the priceless pleasures, never to be repeated, of healthful
+average youth.
+
+What has after-success, honour, wealth, fame, or, power—burdened, as they
+always are, with ambitions, blunders, jealousies, cares, regrets, and
+failing health—to match with this enjoyment of the young, the bright, the
+bygone, hour?  The wisdom of the worldly teacher—at least, the _carpe
+diem_—was practised here before the injunction was ever thought of.  _Du
+bist so schön_ was the unuttered invocation, while the _Verweile doch_
+was deemed unneedful.
+
+Little, I am ashamed to own, did I add either to my small classical or
+mathematical attainments.  But I made friendships—lifelong friendships,
+that I would not barter for the best of academical prizes.
+
+Amongst my associates or acquaintances, two or three of whom have since
+become known—were the last Lord Derby, Sir William Harcourt, the late
+Lord Stanley of Alderley, Latimer Neville, late Master of Magdalen, Lord
+Calthorpe, of racing fame, with whom I afterwards crossed the Rocky
+Mountains, the last Lord Durham, my cousin, Sir Augustus Stephenson,
+ex-solicitor to the Treasury, Julian Fane, whose lyrics were edited by
+Lord Lytton, and my life-long friend Charles Barrington, private
+secretary to Lord Palmerston and to Lord John Russell.
+
+But the most intimate of them was George Cayley, son of the member for
+the East Riding of Yorkshire.  Cayley was a young man of much promise.
+In his second year he won the University prize poem with his ‘Balder,’
+and soon after published some other poems, and a novel, which met with
+merited oblivion.  But it was as a talker that he shone.  His quick
+intelligence, his ready wit, his command of language, made his
+conversation always lively, and sometimes brilliant.  For several years
+after I left Cambridge I lived with him in his father’s house in Dean’s
+Yard, and thus made the acquaintance of some celebrities whom his
+fascinating and versatile talents attracted thither.  As I shall return
+to this later on, I will merely mention here the names of such men as
+Thackeray, Tennyson, Frederick Locker, Stirling of Keir, Tom Taylor the
+dramatist, Millais, Leighton, and others of lesser note.  Cayley was a
+member of, and regular attendant at, the Cosmopolitan Club; where he met
+Dickens, Foster, Shirley Brooks, John Leech, Dicky Doyle, and the wits of
+the day; many of whom occasionally formed part of our charming coterie in
+the house I shared with his father.
+
+Speaking of Tom Taylor reminds me of a good turn he once did me in my
+college examination at Cambridge.  Whewell was then Master of Trinity.
+One of the subjects I had to take up was either the ‘Amicitia’ or the
+‘Senectute’ (I forget which).  Whewell, more formidable and alarming than
+ever, opened the book at hazard, and set me on to construe.  I broke
+down.  He turned over the page; again I stuck fast.  The truth is, I had
+hardly looked at my lesson,—trusting to my recollection of parts of it to
+carry me through, if lucky, with the whole.
+
+‘What’s your name, sir?’ was the Master’s gruff inquiry.  He did not
+catch it.  But Tom Taylor—also an examiner—sitting next to him, repeated
+my reply, with the addition, ‘Just returned from China, where he served
+as a midshipman in the late war.’  He then took the book out of Whewell’s
+hands, and giving it to me closed, said good-naturedly: ‘Let us have
+another try, Mr. Coke.’  The chance was not thrown away; I turned to a
+part I knew, and rattled off as if my first examiner had been to blame,
+not I.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+BEFORE dropping the curtain on my college days I must relate a little
+adventure which is amusing as an illustration of my reverend friend
+Napier’s enthusiastic spontaneity.  My own share in the farce is a
+subordinate matter.
+
+During the Christmas party at Holkham I had ‘fallen in love,’ as the
+phrase goes, with a young lady whose uncle (she had neither father nor
+mother) had rented a place in the neighbourhood.  At the end of his visit
+he invited me to shoot there the following week.  For what else had I
+paid him assiduous attention, and listened like an angel to the
+interminable history of his gout?  I went; and before I left, proposed
+to, and was accepted by, the young lady.  I was still at Cambridge, not
+of age, and had but moderate means.  As for the maiden, ‘my face is my
+fortune’ she might have said.  The aunt, therefore, very properly
+pooh-poohed the whole affair, and declined to entertain the possibility
+of an engagement; the elderly gentleman got a bad attack of gout; and
+every wire of communication being cut, not an obstacle was wanting to
+render persistence the sweetest of miseries.
+
+Napier was my confessor, and became as keen to circumvent the ‘old
+she-dragon,’ so he called her, as I was.  Frequent and long were our
+consultations, but they generally ended in suggestions and schemes so
+preposterous, that the only result was an immoderate fit of laughter on
+both sides.  At length it came to this (the proposition was not mine): we
+were to hire a post chaise and drive to the inn at G—.  I was to write a
+note to the young lady requesting her to meet me at some trysting place.
+The note was to state that a clergyman would accompany me, who was ready
+and willing to unite us there and then in holy matrimony; that I would
+bring the licence in my pocket; that after the marriage we could confer
+as to ways and means; and that—she could leave the _rest_ to me.
+
+No enterprise was ever more merrily conceived, or more seriously
+undertaken.  (Please to remember that my friend was not so very much
+older than I; and, in other respects, was quite as juvenile.)
+
+Whatever was to come of it, the drive was worth the venture.  The number
+of possible and impossible contingencies provided for kept us occupied by
+the hour.  Furnished with a well-filled luncheon basket, we regaled
+ourselves and fortified our courage; while our hilarity increased as we
+neared, or imagined that we neared, the climax.  Unanimously we repeated
+Dr. Johnson’s exclamation in a post chaise: ‘Life has not many things
+better than this.’
+
+But where were we?  Our watches told us that we had been two hours
+covering a distance of eleven miles.
+
+‘Hi!  Hullo!  Stop!’ shouted Napier.  In those days post horses were
+ridden, not driven; and about all we could see of the post boy was what
+Mistress Tabitha Bramble saw of Humphrey Clinker.  ‘Where the dickens
+have we got to now?’
+
+‘Don’t know, I’m sure, sir,’ says the boy; ‘never was in these ’ere parts
+afore.’
+
+‘Why,’ shouts the vicar, after a survey of the landscape, ‘if I can see a
+church by daylight, that’s Blakeney steeple; and we are only three miles
+from where we started.’
+
+Sure enough it was so.  There was nothing for it but to stop at the
+nearest house, give the horses a rest and a feed, and make a fresh
+start,—better informed as to our topography.
+
+It was past four on that summer afternoon when we reached our
+destination.  The plan of campaign was cut and dried.  I called for
+writing materials, and indicted my epistle as agreed upon.
+
+‘To whom are you telling her to address the answer?’ asked my accomplice.
+‘We’re _incog._ you know.  It won’t do for either of us to be known.’
+
+‘Certainly not,’ said I.  ‘What shall it be?  White? Black? Brown? or
+Green?’
+
+‘Try Browne with an E,’ said he.  ‘The E gives an aristocratic flavour.
+We can’t afford to risk our respectability.’
+
+The note sealed, I rang the bell for the landlord, desired him to send it
+up to the hall and tell the messenger to wait for an answer.
+
+As our host was leaving the room he turned round, with his hand on the
+door, and said:
+
+‘Beggin’ your pardon, Mr. Cook, would you and Mr. Napeer please to take
+dinner here?  I’ve soom beatiful lamb chops, and you could have a
+ducklin’ and some nice young peas to your second course.  The post-boy
+says the ’osses is pretty nigh done up; but by the time—’
+
+‘How did you know our names?’ asked my companion.
+
+‘Law sir!  The post-boy, he told me.  But, beggin’ your pardon, Mr.
+Napeer, my daughter, she lives in Holkham willage; and I’ve heard you
+preach afore now.’
+
+‘Let’s have the dinner by all means,’ said I.
+
+‘If the Bishop sequesters my living,’ cried Napier, with solemnity, ‘I’ll
+summon the landlord for defamation of character.  But time’s up.  You
+must make for the boat-house, which is on the other side of the park.
+I’ll go with you to the head of the lake.’
+
+We had not gone far, when we heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.
+What did we see but an open carriage, with two ladies in it, not a
+hundred yards behind us.
+
+‘The aunt! by all that’s—!’
+
+What—  I never heard; for, before the sentence was completed, the
+speaker’s long legs were scampering out of sight in the direction of a
+clump of trees, I following as hard as I could go.
+
+As the carriage drove past, my Friar Lawrence was lying in a ditch, while
+I was behind an oak.  We were near enough to discern the niece, and
+consequently we feared to be recognised.  The situation was neither
+dignified nor romantic.  My friend was sanguine, though big ardour was
+slightly damped by the ditch water.  I doubted the expediency of trying
+the boat-house, but he urged the risk of her disappointment, which made
+the attempt imperative.
+
+The padre returned to the inn to dry himself, and, in due course, I
+rejoined him.  He met me with the answer to my note.  ‘The boat-house,’
+it declared, ‘was out of the question.  But so, of course, was the
+_possibility_ of _change_.  We must put our trust in _Providence_.  Time
+could make _no_ difference in _our_ case, whatever it might do with
+_others_.  _She_, at any rate, could wait for YEARS.’  Upon the whole the
+result was comforting—especially as the ‘years’ dispensed with the
+necessity of any immediate step more desperate than dinner.  This we
+enjoyed like men who had earned it; and long before I deposited my dear
+friar in his cell both of us were snoring in our respective corners of
+the chaise.
+
+A word or two will complete this romantic episode.  The next long
+vacation I spent in London, bent, needless to say, on a happy issue to my
+engagement.  How simple, in the retrospect, is the frustration of our
+hopes!  I had not been a week in town, had only danced once with my
+_fiancée_, when, one day, taking a tennis lesson from the great Barre, a
+forced ball grazed the frame of my racket, and broke a blood vessel in my
+eye.
+
+For five weeks I was shut up in a dark room.  It was two more before I
+again met my charmer.  She did not tell me, but her man did, that their
+wedding day was fixed for the 10th of the following month; and he ‘hoped
+they would have the pleasure of seeing me at the breakfast!’  [I made the
+following note of the fact: N.B.—A woman’s tears may cost her nothing;
+but her smiles may be expensive.]
+
+I must, however, do the young lady the justice to state that, though her
+future husband was no great things as a ‘man,’ as she afterwards
+discovered, he was the heir to a peerage and great wealth.  Both he and
+she, like most of my collaborators in this world, have long since passed
+into the other.
+
+The fashions of bygone days have always an interest for the living: the
+greater perhaps the less remote.  We like to think of our ancestors of
+two or three generations off—the heroes and heroines of Jane Austen, in
+their pantaloons and high-waisted, short-skirted frocks, their pigtails
+and powdered hair, their sandalled shoes, and Hessian boots.  Our near
+connection with them entrances our self-esteem.  Their prim manners,
+their affected bows and courtesies, the ‘dear Mr. So-and-So’ of the wife
+to her husband, the ‘Sir’ and ‘Madam’ of the children to their parents,
+make us wonder whether their flesh and blood were ever as warm as ours;
+or whether they were a race of prigs and puppets?
+
+My memory carries me back to the remnants of these lost externals—that
+which is lost was nothing more; the men and women were every whit as
+human as ourselves.  My half-sisters wore turbans with birds-of-paradise
+in them.  My mother wore gigot sleeves; but objected to my father’s
+pigtail, so cut it off.  But my father powdered his head, and kept to his
+knee-breeches to the last; so did all elderly gentlemen, when I was a
+boy.  For the matter of that, I saw an old fellow with a pigtail walking
+in the Park as late as 1845.  He, no doubt, was an ultra-conservative.
+
+Fashions change so imperceptibly that it is difficult for the historian
+to assign their initiatory date.  Does the young dandy of to-day want to
+know when white ties came into vogue?—he knows that his great-grandfather
+wore a white neckcloth, and takes it for granted, may be, that his
+grandfather did so too.  Not a bit of it.  The young Englander of the
+Coningsby type—the Count d’Orsays of my youth, scorned the white tie
+alike of their fathers and their sons.  At dinner-parties or at balls,
+they adorned themselves in satin scarfs, with a jewelled pin or chained
+pair of pins stuck in them.  I well remember the rebellion—the protest
+against effeminacy—which the white tie called forth amongst some of us
+upon its first invasion on evening dress.  The women were in favour of
+it, and, of course, carried the day; but not without a struggle.  One
+night at Holkham—we were a large party, I daresay at least fifty at
+dinner—the men came down in black scarfs, the women in white ‘chokers.’
+To make the contest complete, these all sat on one side of the table, and
+we men on the other.  The battle was not renewed; both factions
+surrendered.  But the women, as usual, got their way, and—their men.
+
+For my part I could never endure the original white neckcloth.  It was
+stiffly starched, and wound twice round the neck; so I abjured it for the
+rest of my days; now and then I got the credit of being a coxcomb—not for
+my pains, but for my comfort.  Once, when dining at the Viceregal Lodge
+at Dublin, I was ‘pulled up’ by an aide-de-camp for my unbecoming attire;
+but I stuck to my colours, and was none the worse.  Another time my
+offence called forth a touch of good nature on the part of a great man,
+which I hardly know how to speak of without writing me down an ass.  It
+was at a crowded party at Cambridge House.  (Let me plead my youth; I was
+but two-and-twenty.)  Stars and garters were scarcely a distinction.
+White ties were then as imperative as shoes and stockings; I was there in
+a black one.  My candid friends suggested withdrawal, my relations cut me
+assiduously, strangers by my side whispered at me aloud, women turned
+their shoulders to me; and my only prayer was that my accursed tie would
+strangle me on the spot.  One pair of sharp eyes, however, noticed my
+ignominy, and their owner was moved by compassion for my sufferings.  As
+I was slinking away, Lord Palmerston, with a _bonhomie_ peculiarly his
+own, came up to me; and with a shake of the hand and hearty manner, asked
+after my brother Leicester, and when he was going to bring me into
+Parliament?—ending with a smile: ‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’
+That is the sort of tact that makes a party leader.  I went to bed a
+proud, instead of a humiliated, man; ready, if ever I had the chance, to
+vote that black was white, should he but state it was so.
+
+Beards and moustache came into fashion after the Crimean war.  It would
+have been an outrage to wear them before that time.  When I came home
+from my travels across the Rocky Mountains in 1851, I was still unshaven.
+Meeting my younger brother—a fashionable guardsman—in St. James’s Street,
+he exclaimed, with horror and disgust at my barbarity, ‘I suppose you
+mean to cut off that thing!’
+
+Smoking, as indulged in now, was quite out of the question half a century
+ago.  A man would as soon have thought of making a call in his
+dressing-gown as of strolling about the West End with a cigar in his
+mouth.  The first whom I ever saw smoke a cigarette at a dining-table
+after dinner was the King; some forty years ago, or more perhaps.  One of
+the many social benefits we owe to his present Majesty.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+DURING my blindness I was hospitably housed in Eaten Place by Mr.
+Whitbread, the head of the renowned firm.  After my recovery I had the
+good fortune to meet there Lady Morgan, the once famous authoress of the
+‘Wild Irish Girl.’  She still bore traces of her former comeliness, and
+had probably lost little of her sparkling vivacity.  She was known to
+like the company of young people, as she said they made her feel young;
+so, being the youngest of the party, I had the honour of sitting next her
+at dinner.  When I recall her conversation and her pleasing manners, I
+can well understand the homage paid both abroad and at home to the bright
+genius of the Irish actor’s daughter.
+
+We talked a good deal about Byron and Lady Caroline Lamb.  This arose out
+of my saying I had been reading ‘Glenarvon,’ in which Lady Caroline gives
+Byron’s letters to herself as Glenarvon’s letters to the heroine.  Lady
+Morgan had been the confidante of Lady Caroline, had seen many of Byron’s
+letters, and possessed many of her friend’s—full of details of the
+extraordinary intercourse which had existed between the two.
+
+Lady Morgan evidently did not believe (in spite of Lady Caroline’s mad
+passion for the poet) that the liaison ever reached the ultimate stage
+contemplated by her lover.  This opinion was strengthened by Lady
+Caroline’s undoubted attachment to her husband—William Lamb, afterwards
+Lord Melbourne—who seems to have submitted to his wife’s vagaries with
+his habitual stoicism and good humour.
+
+Both Byron and Lady Caroline had violent tempers, and were always
+quarrelling.  This led to the final rupture, when, according to my
+informant, the poet’s conduct was outrageous.  He sent her some insulting
+lines, which Lady Morgan quoted.  The only one I remember is:
+
+    Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!
+
+Among other amusing anecdotes she told was one of Disraeli.  She had met
+him (I forget where), soon after his first success as the youthful author
+of ‘Vivian Grey.’  He was naturally made much of, but rather in the
+Bohemian world than by such queens of society as Lady Holland or Lady
+Jersey.  ‘And faith!’ she added, with the piquante accent which
+excitement evoked, ‘he took the full shine out of his janius.  And how do
+ye think he was dressed?  In a black velvet jacket and suit to match,
+with a red sash round his waist, in which was stuck a dagger with a
+richly jew’lled sheath and handle.’
+
+The only analogous instance of self-confidence that I can call to mind
+was Garibaldi’s costume at a huge reception at Stafford House.  The
+_élite_ of society was there, in diamonds, ribbons, and stars, to meet
+him.  Garibaldi’s uppermost and outermost garment was a red flannel
+shirt, nothing more nor less.
+
+The crowd jostled and swayed around him.  To get out of the way of it, I
+retreated to the deserted picture gallery.  The only person there was one
+who interested me more than the scarlet patriot, Bulwer-Lytton the First.
+He was sauntering to and fro with his hands behind his back, looking
+dingy in his black satin scarf, and dejected.  Was he envying the Italian
+hero the obsequious reverence paid to his miner’s shirt?  (Nine tenths of
+the men, and still more of the women there, knew nothing of the wearer,
+or his cause, beyond that.)  Was he thinking of similar honours which had
+been lavished upon himself when _his_ star was in the zenith?  Was he
+muttering to himself the usual consolation of the ‘have-beens’—_vanitas
+vanitatum_?  Or what new fiction, what old love, was flitting through
+that versatile and fantastic brain?  Poor Bulwer!  He had written the
+best novel, the best play, and had made the most eloquent parliamentary
+oration of any man of his day.  But, like another celebrated statesman
+who has lately passed away, he strutted his hour and will soon be
+forgotten—‘Quand on broute sa gloire en herbe de son vivant, on ne la
+récolte pas en épis après sa mort.’  The ‘Masses,’ so courted by the one,
+however blatant, are not the arbiters of immortal fame.
+
+To go back a few years before I met Lady Morgan: when my mother was
+living at 18 Arlington Street, Sydney Smith used to be a constant visitor
+there.  One day he called just as we were going to lunch.  He had been
+very ill, and would not eat anything.  My mother suggested the wing of a
+chicken.
+
+‘My dear lady,’ said he, ‘it was only yesterday that my doctor positively
+refused my request for the wing of a butterfly.’
+
+Another time when he was making a call I came to the door before it was
+opened.  When the footman answered the bell, ‘Is Lady Leicester at home?’
+he asked.
+
+‘No, sir,’ was the answer.
+
+‘That’s a good job,’ he exclaimed, but with a heartiness that fairly took
+Jeames’ breath away.
+
+As Sydney’s face was perfectly impassive, I never felt quite sure whether
+this was for the benefit of myself or of the astounded footman; or
+whether it was the genuine expression of an absent mind.  He was a great
+friend of my mother’s, and of Mr. Ellice’s, but his fits of abstraction
+were notorious.
+
+He himself records the fact.  ‘I knocked at a door in London, asked, “Is
+Mrs. B— at home?”  “Yes, sir; pray what name shall I say?”  I looked at
+the man’s face astonished.  What name? what name? aye, that is the
+question.  What is my name?  I had no more idea who I was than if I had
+never existed.  I did not know whether I was a dissenter or a layman.  I
+felt as dull as Sternhold and Hopkins.  At last, to my great relief, it
+flashed across me that I was Sydney Smith.’
+
+In the summer of the year 1848 Napier and I stayed a couple of nights
+with Captain Marryat at Langham, near Blakeney.  He used constantly to
+come over to Holkham to watch our cricket matches.  His house was a
+glorified cottage, very comfortable and prettily decorated.  The dining
+and sitting-rooms were hung with the original water-colour
+drawings—mostly by Stanfield, I think—which illustrated his minor works.
+Trophies from all parts of the world garnished the walls.  The only
+inmates beside us two were his son, a strange, but clever young man with
+considerable artistic abilities, and his talented daughter, Miss
+Florence, since so well known to novel readers.
+
+Often as I had spoken to Marryat, I never could quite make him out.  Now
+that I was his guest his habitual reserve disappeared, and despite his
+failing health he was geniality itself.  Even this I did not fully
+understand at first.  At the dinner-table his amusement seemed, I won’t
+say to make a ‘butt’ of me—his banter was too good-natured for that—but
+he treated me as Dr. Primrose treated his son after the
+bushel-of-green-spectacles bargain.  He invented the most wonderful
+stories, and told them with imperturbable sedateness.  Finding a
+credulous listener in me, he drew all the more freely upon his invention.
+When, however, he gravely asserted that Jonas was not the only man who
+had spent three days and three nights in a whale’s belly, but that he
+himself had caught a whale with a man inside it who had lived there for
+more than a year on blubber, which, he declared, was better than turtle
+soup, it was impossible to resist the fooling, and not forget that one
+was the Moses of the extravaganza.
+
+In the evening he proposed that his son and daughter and I should act a
+charade.  Napier was the audience, and Marryat himself the orchestra—that
+is, he played on his fiddle such tunes as a ship’s fiddler or piper plays
+to the heaving of the anchor, or for hoisting in cargo.  Everyone was in
+romping spirits, and notwithstanding the cheery Captain’s signs of
+fatigue and worn looks, which he evidently strove to conceal, the evening
+had all the freshness and spirit of an impromptu pleasure.
+
+When I left, Marryat gave me his violin, with some sad words about his
+not being likely to play upon it more.  Perhaps he knew better than we
+how prophetically he was speaking.  Barely three weeks afterwards I
+learnt that the humorous creator of ‘Midshipman Easy’ would never make us
+laugh again.
+
+In 1846 Lord John Russell succeeded Sir Robert Peel as premier.  At the
+General Election, a brother of mine was the Liberal candidate for the
+seat in East Norfolk.  He was returned; but was threatened with defeat
+through an occurrence in which I was innocently involved.
+
+The largest landowner in this division of the county, next to my brother
+Leicester, was Lord Hastings—great-grandfather of the present lord.  On
+the occasion I am referring to, he was a guest at Holkham, where a large
+party was then assembled.  Leicester was particularly anxious to be civil
+to his powerful neighbour; and desired the members of his family to show
+him every attention.  The little lord was an exceedingly punctilious man:
+as scrupulously dapper in manner as he was in dress.  Nothing could be
+more courteous, more smiling, than his habitual demeanour; but his bite
+was worse than his bark, and nobody knew which candidate his agents had
+instructions to support in the coming contest.  It was quite on the cards
+that the secret order would turn the scales.
+
+One evening after dinner, when the ladies had left us, the men were drawn
+together and settled down to their wine.  It was before the days of
+cigarettes, and claret was plentifully imbibed.  I happened to be seated
+next to Lord Hastings on his left; on the other side of him was Spencer
+Lyttelton, uncle of our Colonial Secretary.  Spencer Lyttelton was a
+notable character.  He had much of the talents and amiability of his
+distinguished family; but he was eccentric, exceedingly comic, and
+dangerously addicted to practical jokes.  One of these he now played upon
+the spruce and vigilant little potentate whom it was our special aim to
+win.
+
+As the decanters circulated from right to left, Spencer filled himself a
+bumper, and passed the bottles on.  Lord Hastings followed suit.  I,
+unfortunately, was speaking to Lyttelton behind Lord Hastings’s back, and
+as he turned and pushed the wine to me, the incorrigible joker, catching
+sight of the handkerchief sticking out of my lord’s coat-tail, quick as
+thought drew it open and emptied his full glass into the gaping pocket.
+A few minutes later Lord Hastings, who took snuff, discovered what had
+happened.  He held the dripping cloth up for inspection, and with perfect
+urbanity deposited it on his dessert plate.
+
+Leicester looked furious, but said nothing till we joined the ladies.  He
+first spoke to Hastings, and then to me.  What passed between the two I
+do not know.  To me, he said: ‘Hastings tells me it was you who poured
+the claret into his pocket.  This will lose the election.  After
+to-morrow, I shall want your room.’  Of course, the culprit confessed;
+and my brother got the support we hoped for.  Thus it was that the
+political interests of several thousands of electors depended on a glass
+of wine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+I HAD completed my second year at the University, when, in October 1848,
+just as I was about to return to Cambridge after the long vacation, an
+old friend—William Grey, the youngest of the ex-Prime-Minister’s
+sons—called on me at my London lodgings.  He was attached to the Vienna
+Embassy, where his uncle, Lord Ponsonby, was then ambassador.  Shortly
+before this there had been serious insurrections both in Paris, Vienna,
+and Berlin.
+
+Many may still be living who remember how Louis Philippe fled to England;
+how the infection spread over this country; how 25,000 Chartists met on
+Kennington Common; how the upper and middle classes of London were
+enrolled as special constables, with the future Emperor of the French
+amongst them; how the promptitude of the Iron Duke saved London, at
+least, from the fate of the French and Austrian capitals.
+
+This, however, was not till the following spring.  Up to October, no
+overt defiance of the Austrian Government had yet asserted itself; but
+the imminence of an outbreak was the anxious thought of the hour.  The
+hot heads of Germany, France, and England were more than meditating—they
+were threatening, and preparing for, a European revolution.  Bloody
+battles were to be fought; kings and emperors were to be dethroned and
+decapitated; mobs were to take the place of parliaments; the leaders of
+the ‘people’—_i.e._ the stump orators—were to rule the world; property
+was to be divided and subdivided down to the shirt on a man’s—a rich
+man’s—back; and every ‘po’r’ man was to have his own, and—somebody
+else’s.  This was the divine law of Nature, according to the gospels of
+Saint Jean Jacques and Mr. Feargus O’Connor.  We were all naked under our
+clothes, which clearly proved our equality.  This was the simple, the
+beautiful programme; once carried out, peace, fraternal and eternal
+peace, would reign—till it ended, and the earthly Paradise would be an
+accomplished fact.
+
+I was an ultra-Radical—a younger-son Radical—in those days.  I was quite
+ready to share with my elder brother; I had no prejudice in favour of my
+superiors; I had often dreamed of becoming a leader of the ‘people’—a
+stump orator, _i.e._—with the handsome emoluments of ministerial office.
+
+William Grey came to say good-bye.  He was suddenly recalled in
+consequence of the insurrection.  ‘It is a most critical state of
+affairs,’ he said.  ‘A revolution may break out all over the Continent at
+any moment.  There’s no saying where it may end.  We are on the eve of a
+new epoch in the history of Europe.  I wouldn’t miss it on any account.’
+
+‘Most interesting! most interesting!’ I exclaimed.  ‘How I wish I were
+going with you!’
+
+‘Come,’ said he, with engaging brevity.
+
+‘How can I?  I’m just going back to Cambridge.’
+
+‘You are of age, aren’t you?’
+
+I nodded.
+
+‘And your own master?  Come; you’ll never have such a chance again.’
+
+‘When do you start?’
+
+‘To-morrow morning early.’
+
+‘But it is too late to get a passport.’
+
+‘Not a bit of it.  I have to go to the Foreign Office for my despatches.
+Dine with me to-night at my mother’s—nobody else—and I’ll bring your
+passport in my pocket.’
+
+‘So be it, then.  Billy Whistle [the irreverend nickname we
+undergraduates gave the Master of Trinity] will rusticate me to a
+certainty.  It can’t be helped.  The cause is sacred.  I’ll meet you at
+Lady Grey’s to-night.’
+
+We reached our destination at daylight on October 9.  We had already
+heard, while changing carriages at Breslau station, that the revolution
+had broken out at Vienna, that the rails were torn up, the Bahn-hof
+burnt, the military defeated and driven from the town.  William Grey’s
+official papers, aided by his fluent German, enabled us to pass the
+barriers, and find our way into the city.  He went straight to the
+Embassy, and sent me on to the ‘Erzherzog Carl’ in the Kärnthner Thor
+Strasse, at that time the best hotel in Vienna.  It being still nearly
+dark, candles were burning in every window by order of the insurgents.
+
+The preceding day had been an eventful one.  The proletariats, headed by
+the students, had sacked the arsenal, the troops having made but slight
+resistance.  They then marched to the War Office and demanded the person
+of the War Minister, Count Latour, who was most unpopular on account of
+his known appeal to Jellachich, the Ban of Croatia, to assist, if
+required, in putting down the disturbances.  Some sharp fighting here
+took place.  The rioters defeated the small body of soldiers on the spot,
+captured two guns, and took possession of the building.  The unfortunate
+minister was found in one of the upper garrets of the palace.  The
+ruffians dragged him from his place of concealment, and barbarously
+murdered him.  They then flung his body from the window, and in a few
+minutes it was hanging from a lamp-post above the heads of the infuriated
+and yelling mob.
+
+In 1848 the inner city of Vienna was enclosed within a broad and lofty
+bastion, fosse, and glacis.  These were levelled in 1857.  As soon as the
+troops were expelled, cannon were placed on the Bastei so as to command
+the approaches from without.  The tunnelled gateways were built up, and
+barricades erected across every principal thoroughfare.  Immediately
+after these events Ferdinand I. abdicated in favour of the present
+Emperor Francis Joseph, who retired with the Court to Schöbrunn.
+Foreigners at once took flight, and the hotels were emptied.  The only
+person left in the ‘Archduke Charles’ beside myself was Mr. Bowen,
+afterwards Sir George, Governor of New Zealand, with whom I was glad to
+fraternise.
+
+These humble pages do not aspire to the dignity of History; but a few
+words as to what took place are needful for the writer’s purposes.  The
+garrison in Vienna had been comparatively small; and as the National
+Guard had joined the students and proletariats, it was deemed advisable
+by the Government to await the arrival of reinforcements under Prince
+Windischgrätz, who, together with a strong body of Servians and Croats
+under Jellachich, might overawe the insurgents; or, if not, recapture the
+city without unnecessary bloodshed.  The rebels were buoyed up by hopes
+of support from the Hungarians under Kossuth.  But in this they were
+disappointed.  In less than three weeks from the day of the outbreak the
+city was beleaguered.  Fighting began outside the town on the 24th.  On
+the 25th the soldiers occupied the Wieden and Nussdorf suburbs.  Next day
+the Gemeinderath (Municipal Council) sent a _Parlementär_ to treat with
+Windischgrätz.  The terms were rejected, and the city was taken by storm
+on October 30.
+
+A few days before the bombardment, the Austrian commander gave the usual
+notice to the Ambassadors to quit the town.  This they accordingly did.
+Before leaving, Lord Ponsonby kindly sent his private secretary, Mr.
+George Samuel, to warn me and invite me to join him at Schönbrunn.  I
+politely elected to stay and take my chance.  After the attack on the
+suburbs began I had reason to regret the decision.  The hotels were
+entered by patrols, and all efficient waiters _kommandiere’d_ to work at
+the barricades, or carry arms.  On the fourth day I settled to change
+sides.  The constant banging of big guns, and rattle of musketry, with
+the impossibility of getting either air or exercise without the risk of
+being indefinitely deprived of both, was becoming less amusing than I had
+counted on.  I was already provided with a _Passierschein_, which franked
+me inside the town, and up to the insurgents’ outposts.  The difficulty
+was how to cross the neutral ground and the two opposing lines.  Broad
+daylight was the safest time for the purpose; the officious sentry is not
+then so apt to shoot his friend.  With much stalking and dodging I made a
+bolt; and, notwithstanding violent gesticulations and threats, got myself
+safely seized and hurried before the nearest commanding officer.
+
+He happened to be a general or a colonel.  He was a fierce looking, stout
+old gentleman with a very red face, all the redder for his huge white
+moustache and well-filled white uniform.  He began by fuming and
+blustering as if about to order me to summary execution.  He spoke so
+fast, it was not easy to follow him.  Probably my amateur German was as
+puzzling to him.  The _Passierschein_, which I produced, was not in my
+favour; unfortunately I had forgotten my Foreign Office passport.  What
+further added to his suspicion was his inability to comprehend why I had
+not availed myself of the notice, duly given to all foreigners, to leave
+the city before active hostilities began.  How anyone, who had the
+choice, could be fool enough to stay and be shelled or bayoneted, was
+(from his point of view) no proof of respectability.  I assured him he
+was mistaken if he thought I had a predilection for either of these
+alternatives.
+
+‘It was just because I desired to avoid both that I had sought, not
+without risk, the protection I was so sure of finding at the hands of a
+great and gallant soldier.’
+
+‘Dummes Zeug! dummes Zeug!’ (stuff o’ nonsense), he puffed.  But a
+peppery man’s good humour is often as near the surface as his bad.  I
+detected a pleasant sparkle in his eye.
+
+‘Pardon me, Excellenz,’ said I, ‘my presence here is the best proof of my
+sincerity.’
+
+‘That,’ said he sharply, ‘is what every rascal might plead when caught
+with a rebel’s pass in his pocket.  Geleitsbriefe für Schurken sind
+Steckbriefe für die Gerechtigkeit.’  (Safe-conduct passes for knaves are
+writs of capias to honest men.)
+
+I answered: ‘But an English gentleman is not a knave; and no one knows
+the difference better than your Excellenz.’  The term ‘Schurken’ (knaves)
+had stirred my fire; and though I made a deferential bow, I looked as
+indignant as I felt.
+
+‘Well, well,’ he said pacifically, ‘you may go about your business.  But
+_sehen Sie_, young man, take my advice, don’t satisfy your curiosity at
+the cost of a broken head.  Dazu gehören Kerle die eigens geschaffen
+sind.’  As much as to say: ‘Leave halters to those who are born to be
+hanged.’  Indeed, the old fellow looked as if he had enjoyed life too
+well to appreciate parting with it gratuitously.
+
+I had nothing with me save the clothes on my back.  When I should again
+have access to the ‘Erzherzcg Carl’ was impossible to surmise.  The only
+decent inn I knew of outside the walls was the ‘Golden Lámm,’ on the
+suburb side of the Donau Canal, close to the Ferdinand bridge which faces
+the Rothen Thurm Thor.  Here I entered, and found it occupied by a
+company of Nassau _jägers_.  A barricade was thrown up across the street
+leading to the bridge.  Behind it were two guns.  One end of the
+barricade abutted on the ‘Golden Lámm.’  With the exception of the
+soldiers, the inn seemed to be deserted; and I wanted both food and
+lodging.  The upper floor was full of _jägers_.  The front windows
+over-looked the Bastei.  These were now blocked with mattresses, to
+protect the men from bullets.  The distance from the ramparts was not
+more than 150 yards, and woe to the student or the fat grocer, in his
+National Guard uniform, who showed his head above the walls.  While I was
+in the attics a gun above the city gate fired at the battery below.  I
+ran down a few minutes later to see the result.  One artilleryman had
+been killed.  He was already laid under the gun-carriage, his head
+covered with a cloak.
+
+The storming took place a day or two afterwards.  One of the principal
+points of resistance had been at the bottom of the Jägerzeile.  The
+insurgents had a battery of several guns here; and the handsome houses at
+the corners facing the Prater had been loop-holed and filled with
+students.  I walked round the town after all was over, and was especially
+impressed with the horrors I witnessed.  The beautiful houses, with their
+gorgeous furniture, were a mass of smoking ruins.  Not a soul was to be
+seen, not even a prowling thief.  I picked my way into one or two of them
+without hindrance.  Here and there were a heap of bodies, some burnt to
+cinders, some with their clothes still smouldering.  The smell of the
+roasted flesh was a disgusting association for a long time to come.  But
+the whole was sickening to look at, and still more so, if possible, to
+reflect upon; for this was the price which so often has been, so often
+will be, paid for the alluring dream of liberty, and for the pursuit of
+that mischievous will-o’-the-wisp—jealous Equality.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+VIENNA in the early part of the last century was looked upon as the
+gayest capital in Europe.  Even the frightful convulsion it had passed
+through only checked for a while its chronic pursuit of pleasure.  The
+cynical philosopher might be tempted to contrast this not infrequent
+accessory of paternal rule with the purity and contentment so fondly
+expected from a democracy—or shall we say a demagoguey?  The cherished
+hopes of the so-called patriots had been crushed; and many were the worse
+for the struggle.  But the majority naturally subsided into their
+customary vocations—beer-drinking, pipe-smoking, music, dancing, and
+play-going.
+
+The Vienna of 1848 was the Vienna described by Madame de Staël in 1810:
+‘Dans ce pays, l’on traite les plaisirs comme les devoirs. . . . Vous
+verrez des hommes et des femmes exécuter gravement, l’un vis-à-vis de
+l’autre, les pas d’un menuet dont ils sont imposé l’amusement, . . .
+comme s’il [the couple] dansait pour l’acquit de sa conscience.’
+
+Every theatre and place of amusement was soon re-opened.  There was an
+excellent opera; Strauss—the original—presided over weekly balls and
+concerts.  For my part, being extremely fond of music, I worked
+industriously at the violin, also at German.  My German master, Herr
+Mauthner by name, was a little hump-backed Jew, who seemed to know every
+man and woman (especially woman) worth knowing in Vienna.  Through him I
+made the acquaintance of several families of the middle class,—amongst
+them that of a veteran musician who had been Beethoven’s favourite
+flute-player.  As my veneration for Beethoven was unbounded, I listened
+with awe to every trifling incident relating to the great master.  I fear
+the conviction left on my mind was that my idol, though transcendent
+amongst musicians, was a bear amongst men.  Pride (according to his
+ancient associate) was his strong point.  This he vindicated by excessive
+rudeness to everyone whose social position was above his own.  Even those
+that did him a good turn were suspected of patronising.  Condescension
+was a prerogative confined to himself.  In this respect, to be sure,
+there was nothing singular.
+
+At the house of the old flutist we played family quartets,—he, the
+father, taking the first violin part on his flute, I the second, the son
+the ’cello, and his daughter the piano.  It was an atmosphere of music
+that we all inhaled; and my happiness on these occasions would have been
+unalloyed, had not the young lady—a damsel of six-and-forty—insisted on
+poisoning me (out of compliment to my English tastes) with a bitter
+decoction she was pleased to call tea.  This delicate attention, I must
+say, proved an effectual souvenir till we met again—I dreaded it.
+
+Now and then I dined at the Embassy.  One night I met there Prince Paul
+Esterhazy, so distinguished by his diamonds when Austrian Ambassador at
+the coronation of Queen Victoria.  He talked to me of the Holkham
+sheep-shearing gatherings, at which from 200 to 300 guests sat down to
+dinner every day, including crowned heads, and celebrities from both
+sides of the Atlantic.  He had twice assisted at these in my father’s
+time.  He also spoke of the shooting; and promised, if I would visit him
+in Hungary, he would show me as good sport as had ever seen in Norfolk.
+He invited Mr. Magenis—the Secretary of Legation—to accompany me.
+
+The following week we two hired a _britzcka_, and posted to Eisenstadt.
+The lordly grandeur of this last of the feudal princes manifested itself
+soon after we crossed the Hungarian frontier.  The first sign of it was
+the livery and badge worn by the postillions.  Posting houses, horses and
+roads, were all the property of His Transparency.
+
+Eisenstadt itself, though not his principal seat, is a large palace—three
+sides of a triangle.  One wing is the residence, that opposite the
+barrack, (he had his own troops,) and the connecting base part museum and
+part concert-hall.  This last was sanctified by the spirit of Joseph
+Haydn, for so many years Kapellmeister to the Esterhazy family.  The
+conductor’s stand and his spinet remained intact.  Even the stools and
+desks in the orchestra (so the Prince assured me) were ancient.  The very
+dust was sacred.  Sitting alone in the dim space, one could fancy the
+great little man still there, in his snuff-coloured coat and ruffles,
+half buried (as on state occasions) in his ‘_allonge perücke_.’  A tap of
+his magic wand starts into life his quaint old-fashioned band, and the
+powder flies from their wigs.  Soft, distant, ghostly harmonies of the
+Surprise Symphony float among the rafters; and now, as in a dream, we are
+listening to—nay, beholding—the glorious process of Creation; till
+suddenly the mighty chord is struck, and we are startled from our trance
+by the burst of myriad voices echoing the command and its fulfilment,
+‘Let there be light: and there was light.’
+
+Only a family party was assembled in the house.  A Baron something, and a
+Graf something—both relations,—and the son, afterwards Ambassador at St.
+Petersburg during the Crimean War.  The latter was married to Lady Sarah
+Villiers, who was also there.  It is amusing to think that the beautiful
+daughter of the proud Lady Jersey should be looked upon by the Austrians
+as somewhat of a _mésalliance_ for one of the chiefs of their nobility.
+Certain it is that the young Princess was received by them, till they
+knew her, with more condescension than enthusiasm.
+
+An air of feudal magnificence pervaded the palace: spacious
+reception-rooms hung with armour and trophies of the chase; numbers of
+domestics in epauletted and belaced, but ill-fitting, liveries; the
+prodigal supply and nationality of the comestibles—wild boar with
+marmalade, venison and game of all sorts with excellent ‘Eingemachtes’
+and ‘Mehlspeisen’ galore—a feast for a Gamache or a Gargantua.  But then,
+all save three, remember, were Germans—and Germans!  Noteworthy was the
+delicious Château Y’quem, of which the Prince declared he had a
+monopoly—meaning the best, I presume.  After dinner the son, his
+brother-in-law, and I, smoked our meerschaums and played pools of
+_écarté_ in the young Prince’s room.  Magenis, who was much our senior,
+had his rubber downstairs with the elders.
+
+The life was pleasant enough, but there was one little medieval
+peculiarity which almost made one look for retainers in goat-skins and
+rushes on the floor,—there was not a bath (except the Princess’s) in the
+palace!  It was with difficulty that my English servant foraged a tub
+from the kitchen or the laundry.  As to other sanitary arrangements, they
+were what they doubtless had been in the days of Almos and his son, the
+mighty Arped.  In keeping with these venerable customs, I had a sentry at
+the door of my apartments; to protect me, belike, from the ghosts of
+predatory barons and marauders.
+
+During the week we had two days’ shooting; one in the coverts, quite
+equal to anything of the kind in England, the other at wild boar.  For
+the latter, a tract of the Carpathian Mountains had been driven for some
+days before into a wood of about a hundred acres.  At certain points
+there were sheltered stands, raised four or five feet from the ground, so
+that the sportsmen had a commanding view of the broad alley or clearing
+in front of him, across which the stags or boar were driven by an army of
+beaters.
+
+I had my own double-barrelled rifle; but besides this, a man with a rack
+on his back bearing three rifles of the prince’s, a loader, and a
+_Förster_, with a hunting knife or short sword to despatch the wounded
+quarry.  Out of the first rush of pigs that went by I knocked over two;
+and, in my keenness, jumped out of the stand with the _Förster_ who ran
+to finish them off.  I was immediately collared and brought back; and as
+far as I could make out, was taken for a lunatic, or at least for a
+‘duffer,’ for my rash attempt to approach unarmed a wounded tusker.  When
+we all met at the end of the day, the bag of the five guns was forty-five
+wild boars.  The biggest—and he was a monster—fell to the rifle of the
+Prince, as was of course intended.
+
+The old man took me home in his carriage.  It was a beautiful drive.
+One’s idea of an English park—even such a park as Windsor’s—dwindled into
+that of a pleasure ground, when compared with the boundless territory we
+drove through.  To be sure, it was no more a park than is the New Forest;
+but it had all the character of the best English scenery—miles of fine
+turf, dotted with clumps of splendid trees, and gigantic oaks standing
+alone in their majesty.  Now and then a herd of red deer were startled in
+some sequestered glade; but no cattle, no sheep, no sign of domestic
+care.  Struck with the charm of this primeval wilderness, I made some
+remark about the richness of the pasture, and wondered there were no
+sheep to be seen.  ‘There,’ said the old man, with a touch of pride, as
+he pointed to the blue range of the Carpathians; ‘that is my farm.  I
+will tell you.  All the celebrities of the day who were interested in
+farming used to meet at Holkham for what was called the sheep-shearing.
+I once told your father I had more shepherds on my farm than there were
+sheep on his.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+IT WAS with a sorry heart that I bade farewell to my Vienna friends, my
+musical comrades, the Legation hospitalities, and my faithful little
+Israelite.  But the colt frisks over the pasture from sheer superfluity
+of energy; and between one’s second and third decades instinctive
+restlessness—spontaneous movement—is the law of one’s being.  ’Tis then
+that ‘Hope builds as fast as knowledge can destroy.’  The enjoyment we
+abandon is never so sweet as that we seek.  ‘Pleasure never is at home.’
+Happiness means action for its own sake, change, incessant change.
+
+I sought and found it in Bavaria, Bohemia, Russia, all over Germany, and
+dropped anchor one day in Cracow; a week afterwards in Warsaw.  These
+were out-of-the-way places then; there were no tourists in those days; I
+did not meet a single compatriot either in the Polish or Russian town.
+
+At Warsaw I had an adventure not unlike that which befell me at Vienna.
+The whole of Europe, remember, was in a state of political ferment.
+Poland was at least as ready to rise against its oppressor then as now;
+and the police was proportionately strict and arbitrary.  An army corps
+was encamped on the right bank of the Vistula, ready for expected
+emergencies.  Under these circumstances, passports, as may be supposed,
+were carefully inspected; except in those of British subjects, the person
+of the bearer was described—his height, the colour of his hair (if he had
+any), or any mark that distinguished him.
+
+In my passport, after my name, was added ‘_et son domestique_.’  The
+inspector who examined it at the frontier pointed to this, and, in
+indifferent German, asked me where that individual was.  I replied that I
+had sent him with my baggage to Dresden, to await my arrival there.  A
+consultation thereupon took place with another official, in a language I
+did not understand; and to my dismay I was informed that I was—in
+custody.  The small portmanteau I had with me, together with my
+despatch-box, was seized; the latter contained a quantity of letters and
+my journal.  Money only was I permitted to retain.
+
+Quite by the way, but adding greatly to my discomfort, was the fact that
+since leaving Prague, where I had relinquished everything I could
+dispense with, I had had much night travelling amongst native passengers,
+who so valued cleanliness that they economised it with religious care.
+By the time I reached Warsaw, I may say, without metonymy, that I was
+itching (all over) for a bath and a change of linen.  My irritation,
+indeed, was at its height.  But there was no appeal; and on my arrival I
+was haled before the authorities.
+
+Again, their head was a general officer, though not the least like my
+portly friend at Vienna.  His business was to sit in judgment upon
+delinquents such as I.  He was a spare, austere man, surrounded by a
+sharp-looking aide-de-camp, several clerks in uniform, and two or three
+men in mufti, whom I took to be detectives.  The inspector who arrested
+me was present with my open despatch-box and journal.  The journal he
+handed to the aide, who began at once to look it through while his chief
+was disposing of another case.
+
+To be suspected and dragged before this tribunal was, for the time being
+(as I afterwards learnt) almost tantamount to condemnation.  As soon as
+the General had sentenced my predecessor, I was accosted as a
+self-convicted criminal.  Fortunately he spoke French like a Frenchman;
+and, as it presently appeared, a few words of English.
+
+‘What country do you belong to?’ he asked, as if the question was but a
+matter of form, put for decency’s sake—a mere prelude to committal.
+
+‘England, of course; you can see that by my passport.’  I was determined
+to fence him with his own weapons.  Indeed, in those innocent days of my
+youth, I enjoyed a genuine British contempt for foreigners—in the
+lump—which, after all, is about as impartial a sentiment as its converse,
+that one’s own country is always in the wrong.
+
+‘Where did you get it?’ (with a face of stone).
+
+_Prisoner_ (_naïvely_): ‘Where did I get it?  I do not follow you.’
+(Don’t forget, please, that said prisoner’s apparel was unvaleted, his
+hands unwashed, his linen unchanged, his hair unkempt, and his face
+unshaven).
+
+_General_ (stonily): ‘“Where did you get it?” was my question.’
+
+_Prisoner_ (quietly): ‘From Lord Palmerston.’
+
+_General_ (glancing at that Minister’s signature): ‘It says here, “et son
+domestique”—you have no domestique.’
+
+_Prisoner_ (calmly): ‘Pardon me, I have a domestic.’
+
+_General_ (with severity), ‘Where is he?’
+
+_Prisoner_: ‘At Dresden by this time, I hope.’
+
+_General_ (receiving journal from aide-de-camp, who points to a certain
+page): ‘You state here you were caught by the Austrians in a pretended
+escape from the Viennese insurgents; and add, “They evidently took me for
+a spy” [returning journal to aide].  What is your explanation of this?’
+
+_Prisoner_ (shrugging shoulders disdainfully): ‘In the first place, the
+word “pretended” is not in my journal.  In the second, although of course
+it does not follow, if one takes another person for a man of sagacity or
+a gentleman—it does not follow that he is either—still, when—’
+
+_General_ (with signs of impatience): ‘I have here a _Passierschein_,
+found amongst your papers and signed by the rebels.  They would not have
+given you this, had you not been on friendly terms with them.  You will
+be detained until I have further particulars.’
+
+_Prisoner_ (angrily): ‘I will assist you, through Her Britannic Majesty’s
+Consul, with whom I claim the right to communicate.  I beg to inform you
+that I am neither a spy nor a socialist, but the son of an English peer’
+(heaven help the relevancy!).  ‘An Englishman has yet to learn that Lord
+Palmerston’s signature is to be set at naught and treated with
+contumacy.’
+
+The General beckoned to the inspector to put an end to the proceedings.
+But the aide, who had been studying the journal, again placed it in his
+chief’s hands.  A colloquy ensued, in which I overheard the name of Lord
+Ponsonby.  The enemy seemed to waver, so I charged with a renewed request
+to see the English Consul.  A pause; then some remarks in Russian from
+the aide; then the _General_ (in suaver tones): ‘The English Consul, I
+find, is absent on a month’s leave.  If what you state is true, you acted
+unadvisedly in not having your passport altered and _revisé_ when you
+parted with your servant.  How long do you wish to remain here?’
+
+Said I, ‘Vous avez bien raison, Monsieur.  Je suis évidemment dans mon
+tort.  Ma visite à Varsovie était une aberration.  As to my stay, je suis
+déjà tout ce qu’il y a de plus ennuyé.  I have seen enough of Warsaw to
+last for the rest of my days.’
+
+Eventually my portmanteau and despatch-box were restored to me; and I
+took up my quarters in the filthiest inn (there was no better, I believe)
+that it was ever my misfortune to lodge at.  It was ancient, dark, dirty,
+and dismal.  My sitting-room (I had a cupboard besides to sleep in) had
+but one window, looking into a gloomy courtyard.  The furniture consisted
+of two wooden chairs and a spavined horsehair sofa.  The ceiling was low
+and lamp-blacked; the stained paper fell in strips from the sweating
+walls; fortunately there was no carpet; but if anything could have added
+to the occupier’s depression it was the sight of his own distorted
+features in a shattered glass, which seemed to watch him like a detective
+and take notes of his movements—a real Russian mirror.
+
+But the resources of one-and-twenty are not easily daunted, even by the
+presence of the _cimex lectularius_ or the _pulex irritans_.  I inquired
+for a _laquais de place_,—some human being to consort with was the most
+pressing of immediate wants.  As luck would have it, the very article was
+in the dreary courtyard, lurking spider-like for the innocent traveller
+just arrived.  Elective affinity brought us at once to friendly
+intercourse.  He was of the Hebrew race, as the larger half of the Warsaw
+population still are.  He was a typical Jew (all Jews are typical),
+though all are not so thin as was Beninsky.  His eyes were sunk in
+sockets deepened by the sharpness of his bird-of-prey beak; a single
+corkscrew ringlet dropped tearfully down each cheek; and his one front
+tooth seemed sometimes in his upper, sometimes in his lower jaw.  His
+skull-cap and his gabardine might have been heirlooms from the Patriarch
+Jacob; and his poor hands seemed made for clawing.  But there was a
+humble and contrite spirit in his sad eyes.  The history of his race was
+written in them; but it was modern history that one read in their
+hopeless and appealing look.
+
+His cringing manner and his soft voice (we conversed in German) touched
+my heart.  I have always had a liking for the Jews.  Who shall reckon how
+much some of us owe them!  They have always interested me as a peculiar
+people—admitting sometimes, as in poor Beninsky’s case, of purifying, no
+doubt; yet, if occasionally zealous (and who is not?) of interested
+works—cent. per cent. works, often—yes, more often than we
+Christians—zealous of good works, of open-handed, large-hearted
+munificence, of charity in its democratic and noblest sense.  Shame upon
+the nations which despise and persecute them for faults which they, the
+persecutors, have begotten!  Shame on those who have extorted both their
+money and their teeth!  I think if I were a Jew I should chuckle to see
+my shekels furnish all the wars in which Christians cut one another’s
+Christian weasands.
+
+And who has not a tenderness for the ‘beautiful and well-favoured’
+Rachels, and the ‘tender-eyed’ Leahs, and the tricksy little Zilpahs, and
+the Rebekahs, from the wife of Isaac of Gerar to the daughter of Isaac of
+York?  Who would not love to sit with Jessica where moonlight sleeps, and
+watch the patines of bright gold reflected in her heavenly orbs?  I once
+knew a Jessica, a Polish Jessica, who—but that was in Vienna, more than
+half a century ago.
+
+Beninsky’s orbs brightened visibly when I bade him break his fast at my
+high tea.  I ordered everything they had in the house I think,—a cold
+Pomeranian _Gänsebrust_, a garlicky _Wurst_, and _geräucherte Lachs_.  I
+had a packet of my own Fortnum and Mason’s Souchong; and when the stove
+gave out its glow, and the samovar its music, Beninsky’s gratitude and
+his hunger passed the limits of restraint.  Late into the night we smoked
+our meerschaums.
+
+When I spoke of the Russians, he got up nervously to see the door was
+shut, and whispered with bated breath.  What a relief it was to him to
+meet a man to whom he could pour out his griefs, his double griefs, as
+Pole and Israelite.  Before we parted I made him put the remains of the
+sausage (!) and the goose-breast under his petticoats.  I bade him come
+to me in the morning and show me all that was worth seeing in Warsaw.
+When he left, with tears in his eyes, I was consoled to think that for
+one night at any rate he and his _Gänsebrust_ and sausage would rest
+peacefully in Abraham’s bosom.  What Abraham would say to the sausage I
+did not ask; nor perhaps did my poor Beninsky.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+THE remainder of the year ’49 has left me nothing to tell.  For me, it
+was the inane life of that draff of Society—the young man-about-town: the
+tailor’s, the haberdasher’s, the bootmaker’s, and trinket-maker’s, young
+man; the dancing and ‘hell’-frequenting young man; the young man of the
+‘Cider Cellars’ and Piccadilly saloons; the valiant dove-slayer, the
+park-lounger, the young lady’s young man—who puts his hat into mourning,
+and turns up his trousers because—because the other young man does ditto,
+ditto.
+
+I had a share in the Guards’ omnibus box at Covent Garden, with the
+privilege attached of going behind the scenes.  Ah! that was a real
+pleasure.  To listen night after night to Grisi and Mario, Alboni and
+Lablache, Viardot and Ronconi, Persiani and Tamburini,—and Jenny Lind
+too, though she was at the other house.  And what an orchestra was
+Costa’s—with Sainton leader, and Lindley and old Dragonetti, who together
+but alone, accompanied the _recitative_ with their harmonious chords on
+’cello and double-bass.  Is singing a lost art?  Or is that but a
+_temporis acti_ question?  We who heard those now silent voices fancy
+there are none to match them nowadays.  Certainly there are no dancers
+like Taglioni, and Cerito, and Fanny Elsler, and Carlotta Grisi.
+
+After the opera and the ball, one finished the night at Vauxhall or
+Ranelagh; then as gay, and exactly the same, as they were when Miss Becky
+Sharpe and fat Jos supped there only five-and-thirty years before.
+
+Except at the Opera, and the Philharmonic, and Exeter Hall, one rarely
+heard good music.  Monsieur Jullien, that prince of musical
+mountebanks—the ‘Prince of Waterloo,’ as John Ella called him, was the
+first to popularise classical music at his promenade concerts, by
+tentatively introducing a single movement of a symphony here and there in
+the programme of his quadrilles and waltzes and music-hall songs.
+
+Mr. Ella, too, furthered the movement with his Musical Union and quartett
+parties at Willis’s Rooms, where Sainton and Cooper led alternately, and
+the incomparable Piatti and Hill made up the four.  Here Ernst, Sivori,
+Vieuxtemps, and Bottesini, and Mesdames Schumann, Dulcken, Arabella
+Goddard, and all the famous virtuosi played their solos.
+
+Great was the stimulus thus given by Ella’s energy and enthusiasm.  As a
+proof of what he had to contend with, and what he triumphed over, Hallé’s
+‘Life’ may be quoted, where it says: ‘When Mr. Ella asked me [this was in
+1848] what I wished to play, and heard that it was one of Beethoven’s
+pianoforte sonatas, he exclaimed “Impossible!” and endeavoured to
+demonstrate that they were not works to be played in public.’  What
+seven-league boots the world has stridden in within the memory of living
+men!
+
+John Ella himself led the second violins in Costa’s band, and had begun
+life (so I have been told) as a pastry-cook.  I knew both him and the
+wonderful little Frenchman ‘at home.’  According to both, in their
+different ways, Beethoven and Mozart would have been lost to fame but for
+their heroic efforts to save them.
+
+I used occasionally to play with Ella at the house of a lady who gave
+musical parties.  He was always attuned to the highest pitch,—most
+good-natured, but most excitable where music was to the fore.  We were
+rehearsing a quintett, the pianoforte part of which was played by the
+young lady of the house—a very pretty girl, and not a bad musician, but
+nervous to the point of hysteria.  Ella himself was in a hypercritical
+state; nothing would go smoothly; and the piano was always (according to
+him) the peccant instrument.  Again and again he made us restart the
+movement.  There were a good many friends of the family invited to this
+last rehearsal, which made it worse for the poor girl, who was obviously
+on the brink of a breakdown.  Presently Ella again jumped off his chair,
+and shouted: ‘Not E flat!  There’s no E flat there; E natural!  E
+natural!  I never in my life knew a young lady so prolific of flats as
+you.’  There was a pause, then a giggle, then an explosion; and then the
+poor girl, bursting into tears, rushed out of the room.
+
+It was at Ella’s house that I first heard Joachim, then about sixteen, I
+suppose.  He had not yet performed in London.  All the musical
+celebrities were present to hear the youthful prodigy.  Two quartetts
+were played, Ernst leading one and Joachim the other.  After it was over,
+everyone was enraptured, but no one more so than Ernst, who
+unhesitatingly predicted the fame which the great artist has so eminently
+achieved.
+
+One more amusing little story belongs to my experiences of these days.
+Having two brothers and a brother-in-law in the Guards, I used to dine
+often at the Tower, or the Bank, or St. James’s.  At the Bank of England
+there is always at night an officer’s guard.  There is no mess, as the
+officer is alone.  But the Bank provides dinner for two, in case the
+officer should invite a friend.  On the occasion I speak of, my
+brother-in-law, Sir Archibald Macdonald, was on duty.  The soup and fish
+were excellent, but we were young and hungry, and the usual leg of mutton
+was always a dish to be looked forward to.
+
+When its cover was removed by the waiter we looked in vain; there was
+plenty of gravy, but no mutton.  Our surprise was even greater than our
+dismay, for the waiter swore ‘So ’elp his gawd’ that he saw the cook put
+the leg on the dish, and that he himself put the cover on the leg.  ‘And
+what did you do with it then?’ questioned my host.  ‘Nothing,
+S’Archibald.  Brought it straight in ’ere.’  ‘Do you mean to tell me it
+was never out of your hands between this and the kitchen?’  ‘Never, but
+for the moment I put it down outside the door to change the plates.’
+‘And was there nobody in the passage?’  ‘Not a soul, except the sentry.’
+‘I see,’ said my host, who was a quick-witted man.  ‘Send the sergeant
+here.’  The sergeant came.  The facts were related, and the order given
+to parade the entire guard, sentry included, in the passage.
+
+The sentry was interrogated first.  ‘No, he had not seen nobody in the
+passage.’  ‘No one had touched the dish?’  ‘Nobody as ever he seed.’
+Then came the orders: ‘Attention.  Ground arms.  Take off your
+bear-skins.’  And the truth—_i.e._, the missing leg—was at once revealed;
+the sentry had popped it into his shako.  For long after that day, when
+the guard either for the Tower or Bank marched through the streets, the
+little blackguard boys used to run beside it and cry, ‘Who stole the leg
+o’ mutton?’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+PROBABLY the most important historical event of the year ’49 was the
+discovery of gold in California, or rather, the great Western Exodus in
+pursuit of it.  A restless desire possessed me to see something of
+America, especially of the Far West.  I had an hereditary love of sport,
+and had read and heard wonderful tales of bison, and grisly bears, and
+wapitis.  No books had so fascinated me, when a boy, as the
+‘Deer-slayer,’ the ‘Pathfinder,’ and the beloved ‘Last of the Mohicans.’
+Here then was a new field for adventure.  I would go to California, and
+hunt my way across the continent.  Ruxton’s ‘Life in the Far West’
+inspired a belief in self-reliance and independence only rivalled by
+Robinson Crusoe.  If I could not find a companion, I would go alone.
+Little did I dream of the fortune which was in store for me, or how
+nearly I missed carrying out the scheme so wildly contemplated, or
+indeed, any scheme at all.
+
+The only friend I could meet with both willing and able to join me was
+the last Lord Durham.  He could not undertake to go to California; but he
+had been to New York during his father’s reign in Canada, and liked the
+idea of revisiting the States.  He proposed that we should spend the
+winter in the West Indies, and after some buffalo-shooting on the plains,
+return to England in the autumn.
+
+The notion of the West Indies gave rise to an off-shoot.  Both Durham and
+I were members of the old Garrick, then but a small club in Covent
+Garden.  Amongst our mutual friends was Andrew Arcedeckne—pronounced
+Archdeacon—a character to whom attaches a peculiar literary interest, of
+which anon.  Arcedeckne—Archy, as he was commonly called—was about a
+couple of years older than we were.  He was the owner of Glevering Hall,
+Suffolk, and nephew of Lord Huntingfield.  These particulars, as well as
+those of his person, are note-worthy, as it will soon appear.
+
+Archy—‘Merry Andrew,’ as I used to call him,—owned one of the finest
+estates in Jamaica—Golden Grove.  When he heard of our intended trip, he
+at once volunteered to go with us.  He had never seen Golden Grove, but
+had often wished to visit it.  Thus it came to pass that we three secured
+our cabins in one of the West India mailers, and left England in December
+1849.
+
+To return to our little Suffolk squire.  The description of his figure,
+as before said, is all-important, though the world is familiar with it,
+as drawn by the pencil of a master caricaturist.  Arcedeckne was about
+five feet three inches, round as a cask, with a small singularly round
+face and head, closely cropped hair, and large soft eyes,—in a word, so
+like a seal, that he was as often called ‘Phoca’ as Archy.
+
+Do you recognise the portrait?  Do you need the help of ‘Glevering Hall’
+(how curious the suggestion!).  And would you not like to hear him talk?
+Here is a specimen in his best manner.  Surely it must have been taken
+down by a shorthand writer, or a phonograph:
+
+_Mr. Harry Foker loquitur_: ‘He inquired for Rincer and the cold in his
+nose, told Mrs. Rincer a riddle, asked Miss Rincer when she would be
+prepared to marry him, and paid his compliments to Miss Brett, another
+young lady in the bar, all in a minute of time, and with a liveliness and
+facetiousness which set all these young ladies in a giggle.  “Have a
+drop, Pen: it’s recommended by the faculty, &c.  Give the young one a
+glass, R., and score it up to yours truly.”’
+
+I fancy the great man who recorded these words was more afraid of Mr.
+Harry _Phoca_ than of any other man in the Garrick Club—possibly for the
+reason that honest Harry was not the least bit afraid of him.  The shy,
+the proud, the sensitive satirist would steal quietly into the room,
+avoiding notice as though he wished himself invisible.  Phoca would be
+warming his back at the fire, and calling for a glass of ‘Foker’s own.’
+Seeing the giant enter, he would advance a step or two, with a couple of
+extended fingers, and exclaim, quite affably, ‘Ha! Mr. Thackry! litary
+cove!  Glad to see you, sir.  How’s Major Dobbings?’ and likely enough
+would turn to the waiter, and bid him, ‘Give this gent a glass of the
+same, and score it up to yours truly!’  We have his biographer’s word for
+it, that he would have winked at the Duke of Wellington, with just as
+little scruple.
+
+Yes, Andrew Arcedeckne was the original of Harry Foker; and, from the cut
+of his clothes to his family connection, and to the comicality, the
+simplicity, the sweetness of temper (though hardly doing justice to the
+loveableness of the little man), the famous caricature fits him to a T.
+
+The night before we left London we had a convivial dinner at the
+Garrick—we three travellers, with Albert Smith, his brother, and John
+Leech.  It was a merry party, to which all contributed good fellowship
+and innocent jokes.  The latest arrival at the Zoo was the first
+hippopotamus that had reached England,—a present from the Khedive.
+Someone wondered how it had been caught.  I suggested a trout-fly; which
+so tickled John Leech’s fancy that he promised to draw it for next week’s
+‘Punch.’  Albert Smith went with us to Southampton to see us off.
+
+On our way to Jamaica we stopped a night at Barbadoes to coal.  Here I
+had the honour of making the acquaintance of the renowned Caroline
+Lee!—Miss Car’line, as the negroes called her.  She was so pleased at the
+assurance that her friend Mr. Peter Simple had spread her fame all the
+world over, that she made us a bowl of the most delicious iced sangaree;
+and speedily got up a ‘dignity ball’ for our entertainment.  She was
+rather too much of an armful to dance with herself, but there was no lack
+of dark beauties, (not a white woman or white man except ourselves in the
+room.)  We danced pretty nearly from daylight to daylight.  The blending
+of rigid propriety, of the severest ‘dignity,’ with the sudden guffaw and
+outburst of wildest spirits and comic humour, is beyond description, and
+is only to be met with amongst these ebullient children of the sun.
+
+On our arrival at Golden Grove, there was a great turn-out of the natives
+to welcome their young lord and ‘massa.’  Archy was touched and amused by
+their frantic loyalty.  But their mode of exhibiting it was not so
+entirely to his taste.  Not only the young, but the old women wanted to
+hug him.  ‘Eigh!  Dat you, Massa?  Dat you, sar? Me no believe him.  Out
+o’ de way, you trash!  Eigh! me too much pleased like devil.’  The one
+constant and spontaneous ejaculation was, ‘Yah! Massa too muchy handsome!
+Garamighty!  Buckra berry fat!’  The latter attribute was the source of
+genuine admiration; but the object of it hardly appreciated its
+recognition, and waved off his subjects with a mixture of impatience and
+alarm.
+
+We had scarcely been a week at Golden Grove, when my two companions and
+Durham’s servant were down with yellow fever.  Being ‘salted,’ perhaps, I
+escaped scot-free, so helped Archy’s valet and Mr. Forbes, his factor, to
+nurse and to carry out professional orders.  As we were thirty miles from
+Kingston the doctor could only come every other day.  The responsibility,
+therefore, of attending three patients smitten with so deadly a disease
+was no light matter.  The factor seemed to think discretion the better
+part of valour, and that Jamaica rum was the best specific for keeping
+his up.  All physicians were _Sangrados_ in those days, and when the
+Kingston doctor decided upon bleeding, the hysterical state of the darky
+girls (we had no men in the bungalow except Durham’s and Archy’s
+servants) rendered them worse than useless.  It fell to me, therefore, to
+hold the basin while Archy’s man was attending to his master.
+
+Durham, who had nerves of steel, bore his lot with the grim stoicism
+which marked his character.  But at one time the doctor considered his
+state so serious that he thought his lordship’s family should be informed
+of it.  Accordingly I wrote to the last Lord Grey, his uncle and
+guardian, stating that there was little hope of his recovery.  Poor Phoca
+was at once tragic and comic.  His medicine had to be administered every,
+two hours.  Each time, he begged and prayed in lacrymose tones to be let
+off.  It was doing him no good.  He might as well be allowed to die in
+peace.  If we would only spare him the beastliness this once, on his
+honour he would take it next time ‘like a man.’  We were inexorable, of
+course, and treated him exactly as one treats a child.
+
+At last the crisis was over.  Wonderful to relate, all three began to
+recover.  During their convalescence, I amused myself by shooting
+alligators in the mangrove swamps at Holland Bay, which was within half
+an hour’s ride of the bungalow.  It was curious sport.  The great
+saurians would lie motionless in the pools amidst the snake-like tangle
+of mangrove roots.  They would float with just their eyes and noses out
+of water, but so still that, without a glass, (which I had not,) it was
+difficult to distinguish their heads from the countless roots and rotten
+logs around them.  If one fired by mistake, the sport was spoiled for an
+hour to come.
+
+I used to sit watching patiently for one of them to show itself, or for
+something to disturb the glassy surface of the dark waters.  Overhead the
+foliage was so dense that the heat was not oppressive.  All Nature seemed
+asleep.  The deathlike stillness was rarely broken by the faintest
+sound,—though unseen life, amidst the heat and moisture, was teeming
+everywhere; life feeding upon life.  For what purpose?  To what end?  Is
+this a primary law of Nature?  Does cannibalism prevail in Mars?
+Sometimes a mocking-bird would pipe its weird notes, deepening silence by
+the contrast.  But besides pestilent mosquitos, the only living things in
+sight were humming-birds of every hue, some no bigger than a butterfly,
+fluttering over the blossoms of the orchids, or darting from flower to
+flower like flashes of prismatic rays.
+
+I killed several alligators; but one day, while stalking what seemed to
+be an unusual monster, narrowly escaped an accident.  Under the
+excitement, my eye was so intently fixed upon the object, that I rather
+felt than saw my way.  Presently over I went, just managed to save my
+rifle, and, to my amazement, found I had set my foot on a sleeping
+reptile.  Fortunately the brute was as much astonished as I was, and
+plunged with a splash into the adjacent pool.
+
+A Cambridge friend, Mr. Walter Shirley, owned an estate at Trelawny, on
+the other side of Jamaica; while the invalids were recovering, I paid him
+a visit; and was initiated into the mysteries of cane-growing and
+sugar-making.  As the great split between the Northern and Southern
+States on the question of slavery was pending, the life, condition, and
+treatment of the negro was of the greatest interest.  Mr. Shirley was a
+gentleman of exceptional ability, and full of valuable information on
+these subjects.  He passed me on to other plantations; and I made the
+complete round of the island before returning to my comrades at Golden
+Grove.  A few weeks afterwards I stayed with a Spanish gentleman, the
+Marquis d’Iznaga, who owned six large sugar plantations in Cuba; and rode
+with his son from Casilda to Cienfuegos, from which port I got a steamer
+to the Havana.  The ride afforded abundant opportunities of comparing the
+slave with the free negro.  But, as I have written on the subject
+elsewhere, I will pass to matters more entertaining.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+ON my arrival at the Havana I found that Durham, who was still an
+invalid, had taken up his quarters at Mr. Crauford’s, the Consul-General.
+Phoca, who was nearly well again, was at the hotel, the only one in the
+town.  And who should I meet there but my old Cambridge ally, Fred, the
+last Lord Calthorpe.  This event was a fruitful one,—it determined the
+plans of both of us for a year or more to come.
+
+Fred—as I shall henceforth call him—had just returned from a hunting
+expedition in Texas, with another sportsman whom he had accidentally met
+there.  This gentleman ultimately became of even more importance to me
+than my old friend.  I purposely abstain from giving either his name or
+his profession, for reasons which will become obvious enough by-and-by;
+the outward man may be described.  He stood well over six feet in his
+socks; his frame and limbs were those of a gladiator; he could crush a
+horseshoe in one hand; he had a small head with a bull-neck, purely
+Grecian features, thick curly hair with crisp beard and silky moustache.
+He so closely resembled a marble Hercules that (as he must have a name)
+we will call him Samson.
+
+Before Fred stumbled upon him, he had spent a winter camping out in the
+snows of Canada, bear and elk shooting.  He was six years or so older
+than either of us—_i.e._ about eight-and-twenty.
+
+As to Fred Calthorpe, it would be difficult to find a more ‘manly’ man.
+He was unacquainted with fear.  Yet his courage, though sometimes
+reckless, was by no means of the brute kind.  He did not run risks unless
+he thought the gain would compensate them; and no one was more capable of
+weighing consequences than he.  His temper was admirable, his spirits
+excellent; and for any enterprise where danger and hardship were to be
+encountered few men could have been better qualified.  By the end of a
+week these two had agreed to accompany me across the Rocky Mountains.
+
+Before leaving the Havana, I witnessed an event which, though disgusting
+in itself, gives rise to serious reflections.  Every thoughtful reader is
+conversant enough with them; if, therefore, he should find them out of
+place or trite, apology is needless, as he will pass them by without the
+asking.
+
+The circumstance referred to is a public execution.  Mr. Sydney Smith,
+the vice-consul, informed me that a criminal was to be garrotted on the
+following morning; and asked me whether I cared to look over the prison
+and see the man in his cell that afternoon.  We went together.  The poor
+wretch bore the stamp of innate brutality.  His crime was the most
+revolting that a human being is capable of—the violation and murder of a
+mere child.  When we were first admitted he was sullen, merely glaring at
+us; but, hearing the warder describe his crime, he became furiously
+abusive, and worked himself into such a passion that, had he not been
+chained to the wall, he would certainly have attacked us.
+
+At half-past six next morning I went with Mr. Smith to the Campo del
+Marte, the principal square.  The crowd had already assembled, and the
+tops of the houses were thronged with spectators.  The women, dressed as
+if for a bull-fight or a ball, occupied the front seats.  By squeezing
+and pushing we contrived to get within eight or nine yards of the
+machine, where I had not long been before the procession was seen moving
+up the Passeo.  A few mounted troops were in front to clear the road;
+behind them came the Host, with a number of priests and the prisoner on
+foot, dressed in white; a large guard brought up the rear.  The soldiers
+formed an open square.  The executioner, the culprit, and one priest
+ascended the steps of the platform.
+
+The garrotte is a short stout post, at the top of which is an iron crook,
+just wide enough to admit the neck of a man seated in a chair beneath it.
+Through the post, parallel with the crook, is the loop of a rope, whose
+ends are fastened to a bar held by the executioner.  The loop, being
+round the throat of the victim, is so powerfully tightened from behind by
+half a turn of the bar, that an extra twist would sever a man’s head from
+his body.
+
+The murderer showed no signs of fear; he quietly seated himself, but got
+up again to adjust the chair and make himself comfortable!  The
+executioner then arranged the rope round his neck, tied his legs and his
+arms, and retired behind the post.  At a word or a look from the priest
+the wrench was turned.  For a single instant the limbs of the victim were
+convulsed, and all was over.
+
+No exclamation, no whisper of horror escaped from the lookers on.  Such a
+scene was too familiar to excite any feeling but morbid curiosity; and,
+had the execution taken place at the usual spot instead of in the town,
+few would have given themselves the trouble to attend it.
+
+It is impossible to see or even to think of what is here described
+without gravely meditating on its suggestions.  Is capital punishment
+justifiable?  This is the question I purpose to consider in the following
+chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+ALL punishments or penal remedies for crime, except capital punishment,
+may be considered from two points of view: First, as they regard Society;
+secondly, as they regard the offender.
+
+Where capital punishment is resorted to, the sole end in view is the
+protection of Society.  The malefactor being put to death, there can be
+no thought of his amendment.  And so far as this particular criminal is
+concerned, Society is henceforth in safety.
+
+But (looking to the individual), as equal security could be obtained by
+his imprisonment for life, the extreme measure of putting him to death
+needs justification.  This is found in the assumption that death being
+the severest of all punishments now permissible, no other penalty is so
+efficacious in preventing the crime or crimes for which it is inflicted.
+Is the assumption borne out by facts, or by inference?
+
+For facts we naturally turn to statistics.  Switzerland abolished capital
+punishment in 1874; but cases of premeditated murder having largely
+increased during the next five years, it was restored by Federal
+legislation in 1879.  Still there is nothing conclusive to be inferred
+from this fact.  We must seek for guidance elsewhere.
+
+Reverting to the above assumption, we must ask: First, Is the death
+punishment the severest of all evils, and to what extent does the fear of
+it act as a preventive?  Secondly, Is it true that no other punishment
+would serve as powerfully in preventing murder by intimidation?
+
+Is punishment by death the most dreaded of all evils?  ‘This assertion,’
+says Bentham, ‘is true with respect to the majority of mankind; it is not
+true with respect to the greatest criminals.’  It is pretty certain that
+a malefactor steeped in crime, living in extreme want, misery and
+apprehension, must, if he reflects at all, contemplate a violent end as
+an imminent possibility.  He has no better future before him, and may
+easily come to look upon death with brutal insensibility and defiance.
+The indifference exhibited by the garrotted man getting up to adjust his
+chair is probably common amongst criminals of his type.
+
+Again, take such a crime as that of the Cuban’s: the passion which leads
+to it is the fiercest and most ungovernable which man is subject to.
+Sexual jealousy also is one of the most frequent causes of murder.  So
+violent is this passion that the victim of it is often quite prepared to
+sacrifice life rather than forego indulgence, or allow another to
+supplant him; both men and women will gloat over the murder of a rival,
+and gladly accept death as its penalty, rather than survive the
+possession of the desired object by another.
+
+Further, in addition to those who yield to fits of passion, there is a
+class whose criminal promptings are hereditary: a large number of
+unfortunates of whom it may almost be said that they were destined to
+commit crimes.  ‘It is unhappily a fact,’ says Mr. Francis Galton
+(‘Inquiries into Human Faculty’), ‘that fairly distinct types of
+criminals breeding true to their kind have become established.’  And he
+gives extraordinary examples, which fully bear out his affirmation.  We
+may safely say that, in a very large number of cases, the worst crimes
+are perpetrated by beings for whom the death penalty has no preventive
+terrors.
+
+But it is otherwise with the majority.  Death itself, apart from punitive
+aspects, is a greater evil to those for whom life has greater
+attractions.  Besides this, the permanent disgrace of capital punishment,
+the lasting injury to the criminal’s family and to all who are dear to
+him, must be far more cogent incentives to self-control than the mere
+fear of ceasing to live.
+
+With the criminal and most degraded class—with those who are actuated by
+violent passions and hereditary taints, the class by which most murders
+are committed—the death punishment would seem to be useless as an
+intimidation or an example.
+
+With the majority it is more than probable that it exercises a strong and
+beneficial influence.  As no mere social distinction can eradicate innate
+instincts, there must be a large proportion of the majority, the
+better-to-do, who are both occasionally and habitually subject to
+criminal propensities, and who shall say how many of these are restrained
+from the worst of crimes by fear of capital punishment and its
+consequences?
+
+On these grounds, if they be not fallacious, the retention of capital
+punishment may be justified.
+
+Secondly.  Is the assumption tenable that no other penalty makes so
+strong an impression or is so pre-eminently exemplary?  Bentham thus
+answers the question: ‘It appears to me that the contemplation of
+perpetual imprisonment, accompanied with hard labour and occasional
+solitary confinement, would produce a deeper impression on the minds of
+persons in whom it is more eminently desirable that that impression
+should be produced than even death itself. . . . All that renders death
+less formidable to them renders laborious restraint proportionably more
+irksome.’  There is doubtless a certain measure of truth in these
+remarks.  But Bentham is here speaking of the degraded class; and is it
+likely that such would reflect seriously upon what they never see and
+only know by hearsay?  Think how feeble are their powers of imagination
+and reflection, how little they would be impressed by such additional
+seventies as ‘occasional solitary confinement,’ the occurrence and the
+effects of which would be known to no one outside the jail.
+
+As to the ‘majority,’ the higher classes, the fact that men are often
+imprisoned for offences—political and others—which they are proud to
+suffer for, would always attenuate the ignominy attached to
+‘imprisonment.’  And were this the only penalty for all crimes, for
+first-class misdemeanants and for the most atrocious of criminals alike,
+the distinction would not be very finely drawn by the interested; at the
+most, the severest treatment as an alternative to capital punishment
+would always savour of extenuating circumstances.
+
+There remain two other points of view from which the question has to be
+considered: one is what may be called the Vindictive, the other, directly
+opposed to it, the Sentimental argument.  The first may be dismissed with
+a word or two.  In civilised countries torture is for ever abrogated; and
+with it, let us hope, the idea of judicial vengeance.
+
+The _lex talionis_—the Levitic law—‘Eye for eye, tooth for tooth,’ is
+befitting only for savages.  Unfortunately the Christian religion still
+promulgates and passionately clings to the belief in Hell as a place or
+state of everlasting torment—that is to say, of eternal torture inflicted
+for no ultimate end save that of implacable vengeance.  Of all the
+miserable superstitions ever hatched by the brain of man this, as
+indicative of its barbarous origin, is the most degrading.  As an
+ordinance ascribed to a Being worshipped as just and beneficent, it is
+blasphemous.
+
+The Sentimental argument, like all arguments based upon feeling rather
+than reason, though not without merit, is fraught with mischief which far
+outweighs it.  There are always a number of people in the world who refer
+to their feelings as the highest human tribunal.  When the reasoning
+faculty is not very strong, the process of ratiocination irksome, and the
+issue perhaps unacceptable, this course affords a convenient solution to
+many a complicated problem.  It commends itself, moreover, to those who
+adopt it, by the sense of chivalry which it involves.  There is something
+generous and noble, albeit quixotic, in siding with the weak, even if
+they be in the wrong.  There is something charitable in the judgment,
+‘Oh! poor creature, think of his adverse circumstances, his ignorance,
+his temptation.  Let us be merciful and forgiving.’  In practice,
+however, this often leads astray.  Thus in most cases, even where
+premeditated murder is proved to the hilt, the sympathy of the
+sentimentalist is invariably with the murderer, to the complete oblivion
+of the victim’s family.
+
+Bentham, speaking of the humanity plea, thus words its argument: ‘Attend
+not to the sophistries of reason, which often deceive, but be governed by
+your hearts, which will always lead you right.  I reject without
+hesitation the punishment you propose: it violates natural feelings, it
+harrows up the susceptible mind, it is tyrannical and cruel.’  Such is
+the language of your sentimental orators.
+
+‘But abolish any one penal law merely because it is repugnant to the
+feelings of a humane heart, and, if consistent, you abolish the whole
+penal code.  There is not one of its provisions that does not, in a more
+or less painful degree, wound the sensibility.’
+
+As this writer elsewhere observes: ‘It is only a virtue when justice has
+done its work, &c.  Before this, to forgive injuries is to invite their
+perpetration—is to be, not the friend, but the enemy of society.  What
+could wickedness desire more than an arrangement by which offences should
+be always followed by pardon?’
+
+Sentiment is the _ultima ratio feminarum_, and of men whose natures are
+of the epicene gender.  It is a luxury we must forego in the face of the
+stern duties which evil compels us to encounter.
+
+There is only one other argument against capital punishment that is worth
+considering.
+
+The objection so strenuously pleaded by Dickens in his letters to the
+‘Times’—viz. the brutalising effects upon the degraded crowds which
+witnessed public executions—is no longer apposite.  But it may still be
+urged with no little force that the extreme severity of the sentence
+induces all concerned in the conviction of the accused to shirk the
+responsibility.  Informers, prosecutors, witnesses, judges, and jurymen
+are, as a rule, liable to reluctance as to the performance of their
+respective parts in the melancholy drama.’  The consequence is that ‘the
+benefit of the doubt,’ while salving the consciences of these servants of
+the law, not unfrequently turns a real criminal loose upon society;
+whereas, had any other penalty than death been feasible, the same person
+would have been found guilty.
+
+Much might be said on either side, but on the whole it would seem wisest
+to leave things—in this country—as they are; and, for one, I am inclined
+to the belief that,
+
+    Mercy murders, pardoning those that kill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+WE were nearly six weeks in the Havana, being detained by Lord Durham’s
+illness.  I provided myself with a capital Spanish master, and made the
+most of him.  This, as it turned out, proved very useful to me in the
+course of my future travels.  About the middle of March we left for
+Charlestown in the steamer _Isabel_, and thence on to New York.  On the
+passage to Charlestown, we were amused one evening by the tricks of a
+conjuror.  I had seen the man and his wife perform at the Egyptian Hall,
+Piccadilly.  She was called the ‘Mysterious Lady.’  The papers were full
+of speculations as to the nature of the mystery.  It was the town talk
+and excitement of the season.
+
+This was the trick.  The lady sat in the corner of a large room, facing
+the wall, with her eyes bandaged.  The company were seated as far as
+possible from her.  Anyone was invited to write a few words on a slip of
+paper, and hand it to the man, who walked amongst the spectators.  He
+would simply say to the woman ‘What has the gentleman (or lady) written
+upon this paper?’  Without hesitation she would reply correctly.  The man
+was always the medium.  One person requested her, through the man, to
+read the number on his watch, the figures being, as they always are, very
+minute.  The man repeated the question: ‘What is the number on this
+watch?’  The woman, without hesitation, gave it correctly.  A friend at
+my side, a young Guardsman, took a cameo ring from his finger, and asked
+for a description of the figures in relief.  There was a pause.  The
+woman was evidently perplexed.  She confessed at last that she was unable
+to answer.  The spectators murmured.  My friend began to laugh.  The
+conjuror’s bread was at stake, but he was equal to the occasion.  He at
+once explained to the company that the cameo represented ‘Leeder and the
+Swan in a hambigious position, which the lady didn’t profess to know
+nothing about.’  This apology, needless to say, completely re-established
+the lady’s character.
+
+Well, recognising my friend of the Egyptian Hall, I reminded him of the
+incident.  He remembered it perfectly; and we fell to chatting about the
+wonderful success of the ‘mystery,’ and about his and the lady’s
+professional career.  He had begun life when a boy as a street acrobat,
+had become a street conjuror, had married the ‘mysterious lady’ out of
+the ‘saw-dust,’ as he expressed it—meaning out of a travelling circus.
+After that, ‘things had gone ’ard’ with them.  They had exhausted their
+resources in every sense.  One night, lying awake, and straining their
+brains to devise some means of subsistence, his wife suddenly exclaimed,
+‘How would it be if we were to try so and so?’ explaining the trick just
+described.  His answer was: ‘Oh! that’s too silly.  They’d see through it
+directly.’  This was all I could get out of him: this, and the fact that
+the trick, first and last, had made them fairly comfortable for the rest
+of their days.
+
+Now mark what follows, for it is the gist and moral of my little story
+about this conjuror, and about two other miracle workers whom I have to
+speak of presently.
+
+Once upon a time, I was discussing with an acquaintance the not
+unfamiliar question of Immortality.  I professed Agnosticism—strongly
+impregnated with incredulity.  My friend had no misgivings, no doubts on
+the subject whatever.  Absolute certainty is the prerogative of the
+orthodox.  He had taken University honours, and was a man of high
+position at the Bar.  I was curious to learn upon what grounds such an
+one based his belief.  His answer was: ‘Upon the phenomena of
+electro-biology, and the psychic phenomena of mesmerism.’  His ‘first
+convictions were established by the manifestations of the soul as
+displayed through a woman called “The Mysterious Lady,” who, &c., &c.’
+
+When we have done with our thaumaturgist on board the _Isabel_, I will
+give another instance, precisely similar to this, of the simple origin of
+religious beliefs.
+
+The steamer was pretty full; and the conjuror begged me to obtain the
+patronage of my noble friend and the rest of our party for an
+entertainment he proposed to give that evening.  This was easily secured,
+and a goodly sum was raised by dollar tickets.  The sleight-of-hand was
+excellent.  But the special performance of the evening deserves
+description in full.  It was that of a whist-playing dog.  Three
+passengers—one of us taking a hand—played as in dummy whist, dummy’s hand
+being spread in a long row upon the deck of the saloon cabin.  The
+conjuror, as did the other passengers, walked about behind the players,
+and saw all the players’ hands, but not a word was spoken.  The dog
+played dummy’s hand.  When it came to his turn he trotted backwards and
+forwards, smelling each card that had been dealt to him.  He sometimes
+hesitated, then comically shaking his head, would leave it to smell
+another.  The conjuror stood behind the dog’s partner, and never went
+near the animal.  There was no table—the cards were thrown on the deck.
+They were dealt by the players; the conjuror never touched them.  When
+the dog’s mind was made up, he took his card in his mouth and laid it on
+the others.  His play was infallible.  He and his partner won the rubber
+with ease.
+
+Now, to those ignorant of the solution, this must, I think, seem
+inexplicable.  How was collusion managed between the animal and its
+master?  One of the conditions insisted upon by the master himself was
+silence.  He certainly never broke it.  I bought the trick—must I confess
+it? for twenty dollars.  How transparent most things are when—seen
+through!  When the dog smelt at the right card, the conjuror, who saw all
+four hands, and had his own in his pocket, clicked his thumb-nail against
+a finger-nail.  The dog alone could hear it, and played the card
+accordingly.
+
+The other story: A few years after my return to England, a great friend
+called upon me, and, in an excited state, described a _séance_ he had had
+with a woman who possessed the power of ‘invoking’ spirits.  These
+spirits had correctly replied to questions, the answers to which were
+only known to himself.  The woman was an American.  I am sorry to say I
+have forgotten her name, but I think she was the first of her tribe to
+visit this country.  As in the case spoken of, my friend was much
+affected by the results of the _séance_.  He was a well-educated and
+intelligent man.  Born to wealth, he had led a somewhat wildish life in
+his youth.  Henceforth he became more serious, and eventually turned
+Roman Catholic.  He entreated me to see the woman, which I did.
+
+I wrote to ask for an appointment.  She lived in Charlotte Street,
+Fitzroy Square; but on the day after the morrow she was to change her
+lodgings to Queen Anne Street, where she would receive me at 11 A.M.  I
+was punctual to a minute, and was shown into an ordinary furnished room.
+The maid informed me that Mrs. — had not yet arrived from Charlotte
+Street, but she was sure to come before long, as she had an engagement
+(so she said) with a gentleman.
+
+Nothing could have suited me better.  I immediately set to work to
+examine the room and the furniture with the greatest care.  I looked
+under and moved the sofa, tables, and armchairs.  I looked behind the
+curtains, under the rug, and up the chimney.  I could discover nothing.
+There was not the vestige of a spirit anywhere.  At last the medium
+entered—a plain, middle-aged matron with nothing the least spiritual
+about her.  She seated herself opposite to me at the round table in the
+centre of the room, and demurely asked what I wanted.  ‘To communicate
+with the spirits,’ I replied.  She did not know whether that was
+possible.  It depended upon the person who sought them.  She would ask
+the spirits whether they would confer with me.  Whereupon she put the
+question: ‘Will the spirits converse with this gentleman?’  At all
+events, thought I, the term ‘gentleman’ applies to the next world, which
+is a comfort.  She listened for the answer.  Presently three distinct
+raps on the table signified assent.  She then took from her reticule a
+card whereon were printed the alphabet, and numerals up to 10.  The
+letters were separated by transverse lines.  She gave me a pencil with
+these instructions: I was to think, not utter, my question, and then put
+the pencil on each of the letters in succession.  When the letters were
+touched which spelt the answer, the spirits would rap, and the words
+could be written down.
+
+My friend had told me this much, so I came prepared.  I began by politely
+begging the lady to move away from the table at which we were seated, and
+take a chair in the furthest corner of the room.  She indignantly
+complied, asking if I suspected her.  I replied that ‘all ladies were
+dangerous, when they were charming,’ which put us on the best of terms.
+I placed my hat so as to intercept her view of my operations, and thus
+pursued them.
+
+Thinking the matter over beforehand, I concluded that when the
+questioner, of either sex, was young, love would very probably be the
+topic; the flesh, not the spirit, would be the predominant interest.
+Being an ingenuous young man of the average sort, and desperately in love
+with Susan, let us say, I should naturally assist the supernatural being,
+if at a loss, to understand that the one thing wanted was information
+about Susan.  I therefore mentally asked the question: ‘Who is the most
+lovely angel without wings, and with the means of sitting down?’ and
+proceeded to pass the pencil over the letters, pausing nowhere.  I now
+and then got a doubtful rap on or under the table,—how delivered I know
+not—but signifying nothing.  It was clear the spirits needed a cue.  I
+put the pencil on the letter S, and kept it there.  I got a tentative
+rap.  I passed at once to U.  I got a more confident rap.  Then to S.
+Rap, rap, without hesitation.  A and N were assented to almost before I
+touched them.  Susan was an angel—the angel.  What more logical proof
+could I have of the immortality of the soul?
+
+Mrs. — asked me whether I was satisfied.  I said it was miraculous; so
+much so indeed, that I could hardly believe the miracle, until
+corroborated by another.  Would the spirits be kind enough to suspend
+this pencil in the air?  ‘Oh! that was nonsense.  The spirits never lent
+themselves to mere frivolity.’  ‘I beg the spirits’ pardon, I am sure,’
+said I.  ‘I have heard that they often move heavy tables.  I thought
+perhaps the pencil would save them trouble.  Will they move this round
+table up to this little one?’  I had, be it observed, when alone, moved
+and changed the relative positions of both tables; and had determined to
+make this my crucial test.  To my astonishment, Mrs. — replied that she
+could not say whether they would or not.  She would ask them.  She did
+so, and the spirits rapped ‘Yes.’
+
+I drew my chair aside.  The woman remained seated in the corner.  I
+watched everything.  Nothing happened.  After a while, I took out my
+watch, and said: ‘I fear the spirits do not intend to keep their word.  I
+have an appointment twenty minutes hence, and can only give them ten
+minutes more.’  She calmly replied she had nothing to do with it.  I had
+heard what the spirits said.  I had better wait a little longer.
+Scarcely were the words out of her mouth, when the table gave a distinct
+crack, as if about to start.  The medium instantly called my attention to
+it.  I jumped out of my seat, passed between the two tables, when of a
+sudden the large table moved in the direction of the smaller one, and did
+not stop till it had pushed the little one over.  I make no comments.  No
+explanation to me is conceivable.  I simply narrate what happened as
+accurately as I am able.
+
+One other case deserves to be added to the above.  I have connected both
+of the foregoing with religious persuasions.  The _séance_ I am about to
+speak of was for the express purpose of bringing a brokenhearted and
+widowed mother into communication with the soul of her only son—a young
+artist of genius whom I had known, and who had died about a year before.
+The occasion was, of course, a solemn one.  The interest of it was
+enhanced by the presence of the great apostle of Spiritualism—Sir William
+Crookes.  The medium was Miss Kate Fox, again an American.  The _séance_
+took place in the house of a very old friend of mine, the late Dr. George
+Bird.  He had spiritualistic tendencies, but was supremely honest and
+single-minded; utterly incapable of connivance with deception of any
+kind.  As far as I know, the medium had never been in the room before.
+The company present were Dr. Bird’s intimate friend Sir William
+Crookes—future President of the Royal Society—Miss Bird, Dr. Bird’s
+daughter, and her husband—Mr. Ionides—and Mrs. —, the mother of the young
+artist.  The room, a large one, was darkened; the last light being
+extinguished after we had taken our places round the dining-table.  We
+were strenuously enjoined to hold one another’s hands.  Unless we did so
+the _séance_ would fail.
+
+Before entering the room, I secretly arranged with Mr. Ionides, who
+shared my scepticism, that we should sit side by side; and so each have
+one hand free.  It is not necessary to relate what passed between the
+unhappy mother and the medium, suffice it to say that she put questions
+to her son; and the medium interpreted the rappings which came in reply.
+These, I believe, were all the poor lady could wish for.  To the rest of
+us, the astounding events of the _séance_ were the dim lights,
+accompanied by faint sounds of an accordion, which floated about the room
+over our heads.  And now comes, to me, the strangest part of the whole
+performance.  All the while I kept my right arm extended under the table,
+moving my hand to and fro.  Presently it touched something.  I make a
+grab, and caught, but could not hold for an instant, another hand.  It
+was on the side away from Mr. Ionides.  I said nothing, except to him,
+and the _séance_ was immediately broken up.
+
+It may be thought by some that this narration is a biassed one.  But
+those acquainted with the charlatanry in these days of what is called
+‘Christian Science,’ and know the extent to which crass ignorance and
+predisposed credulity can be duped by childish delusions, may have some
+‘idea how acute was the spirit-rapping epidemic some forty or fifty years
+ago.  ‘At this moment,’ writes Froude, in ‘Fraser’s Magazine,’ 1863, ‘we
+are beset with reports of conversations with spirits, of tables
+miraculously lifted, of hands projecting out of the world of shadows into
+this mortal life.  An unusually able, accomplished person, accustomed to
+deal with common-sense facts, a celebrated political economist, and
+notorious for business-like habits, assured this writer that a certain
+mesmerist, who was my informer’s intimate friend, had raised a dead girl
+to life.’  Can we wonder that miracles are still believed in?  Ah! no.
+The need, the dire need, of them remains, and will remain with us for
+ever.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+WE must move on; we have a long and rough journey before us.  Durham had
+old friends in New York, Fred Calthorpe had letters to Colonel Fremont,
+who was then a candidate for the Presidency, and who had discovered the
+South Pass; and Mr. Ellice had given me a letter to John Jacob
+Astor—_the_ American millionaire of that day.  We were thus well provided
+with introductions; and nothing could exceed the kindness and hospitality
+of our American friends.
+
+But time was precious.  It was already mid May, and we had everything to
+get—wagons, horses, men, mules, and provisions.  So that we were anxious
+not to waste a day, but hurry on to St. Louis as fast as we could.
+Durham was too ill to go with us.  Phoca had never intended to do so.
+Fred, Samson, and I, took leave of our companions, and travelling via the
+Hudson to Albany, Buffalo, down Lake Erie, and across to Chicago, we
+reached St. Louis in about eight days.  As a single illustration of what
+this meant before railroads, Samson and I, having to stop a day at
+Chicago, hired a buggy and drove into the neighbouring woods, or
+wilderness, to hunt for wild turkeys.
+
+Our outfit, the whole of which we got at St. Louis, consisted of two
+heavy wagons, nine mules, and eight horses.  We hired eight men, on the
+nominal understanding that they were to go with us as far as the Rocky
+Mountains on a hunting expedition.  In reality all seven of them, before
+joining us, had separately decided to go to California.
+
+Having published in 1852 an account of our journey, entitled ‘A Ride over
+the Rocky Mountains,’ I shall not repeat the story, but merely give a
+summary of the undertaking, with a few of the more striking incidents to
+show what travelling across unknown America entailed fifty or sixty years
+ago.
+
+A steamer took us up the Missouri to Omaha.  Here we disembarked on the
+confines of occupied territory.  From near this point, where the Platte
+river empties into the Missouri, to the mouth of the Columbia, on the
+Pacific—which we ultimately reached—is at least 1,500 miles as the crow
+flies; for us (as we had to follow watercourses and avoid impassable
+ridges) it was very much more.  Some five-and-forty miles from our
+starting-place we passed a small village called Savannah.  Between it and
+Vancouver there was not a single white man’s abode, with the exception of
+three trading stations—mere mud buildings—Fort Laramie, Fort Hall, and
+Fort Boisé.
+
+The vast prairies on this side of the Rocky Mountains were grazed by
+herds of countless bison, wapiti, antelope, and deer of various species.
+These were hunted by moving tribes of Indians—Pawnees, Omahaws,
+Cheyennes, Ponkaws, Sioux, &c.  On the Pacific side of the great range, a
+due west course—which ours was as near as we could keep it—lay across a
+huge rocky desert of volcanic débris, where hardly any vegetation was to
+be met with, save artemisia—a species of wormwood—scanty blades of gramma
+grass, and occasional osiers by river-banks.  The rivers themselves often
+ran through cañons or gulches, so deep that one might travel for days
+within a hundred feet of water yet perish (some of our animals did so)
+for the want of a drop to drink.  Game was here very scarce—a few
+antelope, wolves, and abundance of rattlesnakes, were nearly the only
+living things we saw.  The Indians were mainly fishers of the Shoshone—or
+Great Snake River—tribe, feeding mostly on salmon, which they speared
+with marvellous dexterity; and Root-diggers, who live upon wild roots.
+When hard put to it, however, in winter, the latter miserable creatures
+certainly, if not the former, devoured their own children.  There was no
+map of the country.  It was entirely unexplored; in fact, Bancroft the
+American historian, in his description of the Indian tribes, quotes my
+account of the Root-diggers; which shows how little was known of this
+region up to this date.  I carried a small compass fastened round my
+neck.  That and the stars (we travelled by night when in the vicinity of
+Indians) were my only guides for hundreds of dreary miles.
+
+Such then was the task we had set ourselves to grapple with.  As with
+life itself, nothing but the magic powers of youth and ignorance could
+have cajoled us to face it with heedless confidence and eager zest.
+These conditions given, with health—the one essential of all
+enjoyment—added, the first escape from civilised restraint, the first
+survey of primordial nature as seen in the boundless expanse of the open
+prairie, the habitat of wild men and wild animals,—exhilarate one with
+emotions akin to the schoolboy’s rapture in the playground, and the
+thoughtful man’s contemplation of the stars.  Freedom and change, space
+and the possibilities of the unknown, these are constant elements of our
+day-dreams; now and then actual life dangles visions of them before our
+eyes, alas! only to teach us that the aspirations which they inspire are,
+for the most part, illusory.
+
+Brief indeed, in our case, were the pleasures of novelty.  For the first
+few days the business was a continuous picnic for all hands.  It was a
+pleasure to be obliged to help to set up the tents, to cut wood, to fetch
+water, to harness the mules, and work exactly as the paid men worked.
+The equality in this respect—that everything each wanted done had to be
+done with his own hands—was perfect; and never, from first to last, even
+when starvation left me bare strength to lift the saddle on to my horse,
+did I regret the necessity, or desire to be dependent on another man.
+But the bloom soon wore off the plum; and the pleasure consisted not in
+doing but in resting when the work was done.
+
+For the reason already stated, a sample only of the daily labour will be
+given.  It may be as well first to bestow a few words upon the men; for,
+in the long run, our fellow beings are the powerful factors, for good or
+ill, in all our worldly enterprises.
+
+We had two ordinary mule-drivers—Potter and Morris, a little acrobat out
+of a travelling circus, a _metif_ or half-breed Indian named Jim, two
+French Canadians—Nelson and Louis (the latter spoke French only); Jacob,
+a Pennsylvanian auctioneer whose language was a mixture of Dutch, Yankee,
+and German; and (after we reached Fort Laramie) another Nelson—‘William’
+as I shall call him—who offered his services gratis if we would allow him
+to go with us to California.
+
+Jacob the Dutch Yankee was the most intelligent and the most useful of
+the lot, and was unanimously elected cook for the party.  The Canadian
+Nelson was a hard-working good young fellow, with a passionate temper.
+Louis was a hunter by profession, Gallic to the tip of his moustache—fond
+of slapping his breast and telling of the mighty deeds of _nous autres en
+haut_.  Jim, the half-breed was Indian by nature—idle, silent,
+treacherous, but a crafty hunter.  William deserves special mention, not
+from any idiosyncrasy of the man, but because he was concerned soon after
+he joined us in the most disastrous of my adventures throughout the
+expedition.
+
+To look at, William Nelson might have sat for the portrait of
+Leatherstocking.  He was a tall gaunt man who had spent his youth
+bringing rafts of timber down the Wabash river, from Fort Wayne to
+Maumee, in Ohio.  For the last six years (he was three-and-thirty) he had
+been trapping musk rats and beaver, and dealing in pelts generally.  At
+the time of our meeting he was engaged to a Miss Mary something—the
+daughter of an English immigrant, who would not consent to the marriage
+until William was better off.  He was now bound for California, where he
+hoped to make the required fortune.  The poor fellow was very sentimental
+about his Mary; but, despite his weatherbeaten face, hardy-looking frame,
+and his ‘longue carabine,’ he was scarcely the hero which, no doubt, Miss
+Mary took him for.
+
+Yes, the novelty soon wore off.  We had necessaries enough to last to
+California.  We also had enough unnecessaries to bring us to grief in a
+couple of weeks.  Our wagons were loaded to the roof.  And seeing there
+was no road nor so much as a track, that there were frequent swamps and
+small rivers to be crossed, that our Comanche mules were wilder than the
+Indians who had owned them, it may easily be believed that our rate of
+progress did not average more than six or seven miles a day; sometimes it
+took from dawn to dusk to cross a stream by ferrying our packages, and
+emptied wagons, on such rafts as could be extemporised.  Before the end
+of a fortnight, both wagons were shattered, wheels smashed, and axles
+irreparable.  The men, who were as refractory as the other animals,
+helped themselves to provisions, tobacco and whisky, at their own sweet
+will, and treated our remonstrances with resentment and contempt.
+
+Heroic measures were exigent.  The wagons were broken up and converted
+into pack saddles.  Both tents, masses of provisions, 100 lbs. of lead
+for bullets, kegs of powder, warm clothing, mackintoshes, waterproof
+sheeting, tarpaulins, medicine chest, and bags of sugar, were flung aside
+to waste their sweetness on the desert soil.  Not one of us had ever
+packed a saddle before; and certainly not one of the mules had ever
+carried, or to all appearances, ever meant to carry, a pack.  It was a
+fight between man and beast every day—twice a day indeed, for we halted
+to rest and feed, and had to unpack and repack our remaining impedimenta
+in payment for the indulgence.
+
+Let me cite a page from my diary.  It is a fair specimen of scores of
+similar entries.
+
+‘_June_ 24_th_.—My morning watch.  Up at 1 A.M.  Roused the men at 3.30.
+Off at 7.30.  Rained hard all day.  Packs slipped or kicked off eighteen
+times before halt.  Men grumbling.  Nelson and Jim both too ill to work.
+When adjusting pack, Nelson and Louis had a desperate quarrel.  Nelson
+drew his knife and nearly stabbed Louis.  I snatched a pistol out of my
+holster, and threatened to shoot Nelson unless he shut up.  Fred, of
+course, laughed obstreperously at the notion of my committing murder,
+which spoilt the dramatic effect.
+
+‘Oh! these devils of mules!  After repacking, they rolled, they kicked
+and bucked, they screamed and bit, as though we were all in Hell, and
+didn’t know it.  It took four men to pack each one; and the moment their
+heads were loosed, away they went into the river, over the hills, and
+across country as hard as they could lay legs to ground.  It was a
+cheerful sight!—the flour and biscuit stuff swimming about in the stream,
+the hams in a ditch full of mud, the trailed pots and pans bumping and
+rattling on the ground until they were as shapeless as old wide-awakes.
+And, worst of all, the pack-saddles, which had delayed us a week to
+make—nothing now but a bundle of splinters.
+
+‘25_th_.—What a night!  A fearful storm broke over us.  All round was
+like a lake.  Fred and I sat, back to back, perched on a flour bag till
+daylight, with no covering but our shooting jackets, our feet in a pool,
+and bodies streaming like cascades.  Repeated lightning seemed to strike
+the ground within a few yards of us.  The animals, wild with terror,
+stampeded in all directions.  In the morning, lo and behold!  Samson on
+his back in the water, insensibly drunk.  At first I thought he was dead;
+but he was only dead drunk.  We can’t move till he can, unless we
+bequeath him to the wolves, which are plentiful.  This is the third time
+he has served us the same trick.  I took the liberty to ram my heel
+through the whisky keg (we have kept a small one for emergencies) and put
+it empty under his head for a pillow.’
+
+There were plenty of days and nights to match these, but there were worse
+in store for us.
+
+One evening, travelling along the North Platte river, before reaching
+Laramie, we overtook a Mormon family on their way to Salt Lake city.
+They had a light covered wagon with hardly anything in it but a small
+supply of flour and bacon.  It was drawn by four oxen and two cows.  Four
+milch cows were driven.  The man’s name was Blazzard—a Yorkshireman from
+the Wolds, whose speech was that of Learoyd.  He had only his wife and a
+very pretty daughter of sixteen or seventeen with him.  We asked him how
+he became a Mormon.  He answered: ‘From conviction,’ and entreated us to
+be baptized in the true faith at his hands.  The offer was tempting, for
+the pretty little milkmaid might have become one of one’s wives on the
+spot.  In truth the sweet nymph urged conversion more persuasively than
+her papa—though with what views who shall say?  The old farmer’s
+acquaintance with the Bible was remarkable.  He quoted it at every
+sentence, and was eloquent upon the subject of the meaning and the origin
+of the word ‘Bible.’  He assured us the name was given to the Holy Book
+from the circumstance of its contents having passed a synod of prophets,
+just as an Act of Parliament passes the House of Commons—_by Bill_.
+Hence its title.  It was this historical fact that guaranteed the
+authenticity of the sacred volume.  There are various reasons for
+believing—this is one of them.
+
+The next day, being Sunday, was spent in sleep.  In the afternoon I
+helped the Yorkshire lassie to herd her cattle, which had strayed a long
+distance amongst the rank herbage by the banks of the Platte.  The heat
+was intense, well over 120 in the sun; and the mosquitos rose in clouds
+at every step in the wet grass.  It was an easy job for me, on my little
+grey, to gallop after the cows and drive them home, (it would have been a
+wearisome one for her,) and she was very grateful, and played Dorothea to
+my Hermann.  None of our party wore any upper clothing except a flannel
+shirt; I had cut off the sleeves of mine at the elbow.  This was better
+for rough work, but the broiling sun had raised big blisters on my arms
+and throat which were very painful.  When we got back to camp, Dorothea
+laved the burns for me with cool milk.  Ah! she was very pretty; and,
+what ‘blackguard’  Heine, as Carlyle dubs him, would have called ‘naïve
+schmutzig.’  When we parted next morning I thought with a sigh that
+before the autumn was over, she would be in the seraglio of Mr. Brigham
+Young; who, Artemus Ward used to say, was ‘the most married man he ever
+knew.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+SPORT had been the final cause of my trip to America—sport and the love
+of adventure.  As the bison—buffalo, as they are called—are now extinct,
+except in preserved districts, a few words about them as they then were
+may interest game hunters of the present day.
+
+No description could convey an adequate conception of the numbers in
+which they congregated.  The admirable illustrations in Catlin’s great
+work on the North American Indians, afford the best idea to those who
+have never seen the wonderful sight itself.  The districts they
+frequented were vast sandy uplands sparsely covered with the tufty
+buffalo or gramma grass.  These regions were always within reach of the
+water-courses; to which morning and evening the herds descended by paths,
+after the manner of sheep or cattle in a pasture.  Never shall I forget
+the first time I witnessed the extraordinary event of the evening drink.
+Seeing the black masses galloping down towards the river, by the banks of
+which our party were travelling, we halted some hundred yards short of
+the tracks.  To have been caught amongst the animals would have been
+destruction; for, do what they would to get out of one’s way, the weight
+of the thousands pushing on would have crushed anything that impeded
+them.  On the occasion I refer to we approached to within safe distance,
+and fired into them till the ammunition in our pouches was expended.
+
+As examples of our sporting exploits, three days taken almost at random
+will suffice.  The season was so far advanced that, unless we were to
+winter at Fort Laramie, it was necessary to keep going.  It was therefore
+agreed that whoever left the line of march—that is, the vicinity of the
+North Platte—for the purpose of hunting should take his chance of
+catching up the rest of the party, who were to push on as speedily as
+possible.  On two of the days which I am about to record this rule nearly
+brought me into trouble.  I quote from my journal:
+
+‘Left camp to hunt by self.  Got a shot at some deer lying in long grass
+on banks of a stream.  While stalking, I could hardly see or breathe for
+mosquitos; they were in my eyes, nose, and mouth.  Steady aim was
+impossible; and, to my disgust, I missed the easiest of shots.  The neck
+and flanks of my little grey are as red as if painted.  He is weak from
+loss of blood.  Fred’s head is now so swollen he cannot wear his hard
+hat; his eyes are bunged up, and his face is comic to look at.  Several
+deer and antelopes; but ground too level, and game too wild to let one
+near.  Hardly caring what direction I took, followed outskirts of large
+wood, four or five miles away from the river.  Saw a good many summer
+lodges; but knew, by the quantity of game, that the Indians had deserted
+them.  In the afternoon came suddenly upon deer; and singling out one of
+the youngest fawns, tried to run it down.  The country being very rough,
+I found it hard work to keep between it and the wood.  First, my hat blew
+off; then a pistol jumped out of the holster; but I was too near to give
+up,—meaning to return for these things afterwards.  Two or three times I
+ran right over the fawn, which bleated in the most piteous manner, but
+always escaped the death-blow from the grey’s hoofs.  By degrees we edged
+nearer to the thicket, when the fawn darted down the side of a bluff, and
+was lost in the long grass and brushwood, I followed at full speed; but,
+unable to arrest the impetus of the horse, we dashed headlong into the
+thick scrub, and were both thrown with violence to the ground.  I was
+none the worse; but the poor beast had badly hurt his shoulder, and for
+the time was dead lame.
+
+‘For an hour at least I hunted, for my pistol.  It was much more to me
+than my hat.  It was a huge horse pistol, that threw an ounce ball of
+exactly the calibre of my double rifle.  I had shot several buffaloes
+with it, by riding close to them in a chase; and when in danger of
+Indians I loaded it with slugs.  At last I found it.  It was getting
+late; and I didn’t rightly know where I was.  I made for the low country.
+But as we camped last night at least two miles from the river, on account
+of the swamps, the difficulty was to find the tracks.  The poor little
+grey and I hunted for it in vain.  The wet ground was too wet, the dry
+ground too hard, to show the tracks in the now imperfect light.
+
+‘The situation was a disagreeable one: it might be two or three days
+before I again fell in with my friends.  I had not touched food since the
+early morning, and was rather done.  To return to the high ground was to
+give up for the night; but that meant another day behind the cavalcade,
+with diminished chance of overtaking it.  Through the dusk I saw what I
+fancied was something moving on a mound ahead of me which arose out of
+the surrounding swamp.  I spurred on, but only to find the putrid carcase
+of a buffalo, with a wolf supping on it.  The brute was gorged, and
+looked as sleek as “die schöne Frau Giermund”; but, unlike Isegrim’s
+spouse, she was free to escape, for she wasn’t worth a bullet.  I was so
+famished, that I examined the carcase with the hope of finding a cut that
+would last for a day or two; my nose wouldn’t have it.  I plodded on, the
+water up to the saddle-girths.  The mosquitos swarmed in millions, and
+the poor little grey could hardly get one leg before the other.  I, too,
+was so feverish that, ignorant of bacteria, I filled my round hat with
+the filthy stagnant water, and drank it at a draught.
+
+‘At last I made for higher ground.  It was too dark to hunt for tracks,
+so I began to look out for a level bed.  Suddenly my beast, who jogged
+along with his nose to the ground, gave a loud neigh.  We had struck the
+trail.  I threw the reins on his neck, and left matters to his superior
+instincts.  In less than half an hour the joyful light of a camp fire
+gladdened my eyes.  Fred told me he had halted as soon as he was able,
+not on my account only, but because he, too, had had a severe fall, and
+was suffering great pain from a bruised knee.’
+
+Here is an ordinary example of buffalo shooting:
+
+‘_July_ 2_nd_.—Fresh meat much wanted.  With Jim the half-breed to the
+hills.  No sooner on high ground than we sighted game.  As far as eye
+could reach, right away to the horizon, the plain was black with
+buffaloes, a truly astonishing sight.  Jim was used to it.  I stopped to
+spy them with amazement.  The nearest were not more than half a mile off,
+so we picketed our horses under the sky line; and choosing the hollows,
+walked on till crawling became expedient.  As is their wont, the
+outsiders were posted on bluffs or knolls in a commanding position; these
+were old bulls.  To my inexperience, our chance of getting a shot seemed
+small; for we had to cross the dipping ground under the brow whereon the
+sentinels were lying.  Three extra difficulties beset us—the prairie dogs
+(a marmot, so called from its dog-like bark when disturbed) were all
+round us, and bolted into their holes like rabbits directly they saw us
+coming; two big grey wolves, the regular camp followers of a herd, were
+prowling about in a direct line between us and the bulls; lastly, the
+cows, though up and feeding, were inconveniently out of reach.  (The meat
+of the young cow is much preferred to that of the bull.)  Jim, however,
+was confident.  I followed my leader to a wink.  The only instruction I
+didn’t like when we started crawling on the hot sand was “Look out for
+rattlesnakes.”
+
+‘The wolves stopped, examined us suspiciously, then quietly trotted off.
+What with this and the alarm of the prairie dogs, an old bull, a
+patriarch of the tribe, jumped up and walked with majestic paces to the
+top of the knoll.  We lay flat on our faces, till he, satisfied with the
+result of his scrutiny, resumed his recumbent posture; but with his head
+turned straight towards us.  Jim, to my surprise, stealthily crawled on.
+In another minute or two we had gained a point whence we could see
+through the grass without being seen.  Here we rested to recover breath.
+Meanwhile, three or four young cows fed to within sixty or seventy yards
+of us.  Unluckily we both selected the same animal, and both fired at the
+same moment.  Off went the lot helter skelter, all save the old bull, who
+roared out his rage and trotted up close to our hiding place.
+
+‘“Look out for a bolt,” whispered Jim, “but don’t show yourself nohow
+till I tell you.”
+
+‘For a minute or two the suspense was exciting.  One hardly dared to
+breathe.  But his majesty saw us not, and turned again to his wives.  We
+instantly reloaded; and the startled herd, which had only moved a few
+yards, gave us the chance of a second shot.  The first cow had fallen
+dead almost where she stood.  The second we found at the foot of the
+hill, also with two bullet wounds behind the shoulder.  The tongues,
+humps, and tender loins, with some other choice morsels, were soon cut
+off and packed, and we returned to camp with a grand supply of beef for
+Jacob’s larder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+AT the risk of being tedious, I will tell of one more day’s buffalo
+hunting, to show the vicissitudes of this kind of sport.  Before doing so
+we will glance at another important feature of prairie life, a camp of
+Sioux Indians.
+
+One evening, after halting on the banks of the Platte, we heard distant
+sounds of tomtoms on the other side of the river.  Jim, the half-breed,
+and Louis differed as to the tribe, and hence the friendliness or
+hostility, of our neighbours.  Louis advised saddling up and putting the
+night between us; he regaled us to boot with a few blood-curdling tales
+of Indian tortures, and of _nous autres en haut_.  Jim treated these with
+scorn, and declared he knew by the ‘tunes’ (!) that the pow-wow was
+Sioux.  Just now, he asserted, the Sioux were friendly, and this
+‘village’ was on its way to Fort Laramie to barter ‘robes’ (buffalo
+skins) for blankets and ammunition.  He was quite willing to go over and
+talk to them if we had no objection.
+
+Fred, ever ready for adventure, would have joined him in a minute; but
+the river, which was running strong, was full of nasty currents, and his
+injured knee disabled him from swimming.  No one else seemed tempted; so,
+following Jim’s example, I stripped to my flannel shirt and moccasins,
+and crossed the river, which was easier to get into than out of, and soon
+reached the ‘village.’  Jim was right,—they were Sioux, and friendly.
+They offered us a pipe of kinik (the dried bark of the red willow), and
+jabbered away with their kinsman, who seemed almost more at home with
+them than with us.
+
+Seeing one of their ‘braves’ with three fresh scalps at his belt, I asked
+for the history of them.  In Sioux gutturals the story was a long one.
+Jim’s translation amounted to this: The scalps were ‘lifted’ from two
+Crows and a Ponkaw.  The Crows, it appeared, were the Sioux’ natural
+enemies ‘anyhow,’ for they occasionally hunted on each other’s ranges.
+But the Ponkaw, whom he would not otherwise have injured, was casually
+met by him on a horse which the Sioux recognised for a white man’s.  Upon
+being questioned how he came by it, the Ponkaw simply replied that it was
+his own.  Whereupon the Sioux called him a liar; and proved it by sending
+an arrow through his body.
+
+I didn’t quite see it.  But then, strictly speaking, I am no collector of
+scalps.  To preserve my own, I kept the hair on it as short as a
+tooth-brush.
+
+Before we left, our hosts fed us on raw buffalo meat.  This, cut in
+slices, and dried crisp in the sun, is excellent.  Their lodges were very
+comfortable, most of them large enough to hold a dozen people.  The
+ground inside was covered with buffalo robes; and the sewn skins, spread
+tight upon the converging poles, formed a tent stout enough to defy all
+weathers.  In winter the lodge can be entirely closed; and when a fire is
+kindled in the centre, the smoke escaping at a small hole where the poles
+join, the snugness is complete.
+
+At the entrance of one of these lodges I watched a squaw and her child
+prepare a meal.  When the fuel was collected, a fat puppy, playing with
+the child, was seized by the squaw, and knocked on the throat—not
+head—with a stick.  The puppy was then returned, kicking, to the tender
+mercies of the infant; who exerted its small might to add to the animal’s
+miseries, while the mother fed the fire and filled a kettle for the stew.
+The puppy, much more alive than dead, was held by the hind leg over the
+flames as long as the squaw’s fingers could stand them.  She then let it
+fall on the embers, where it struggled and squealed horribly, and would
+have wriggled off, but for the little savage, who took good care to
+provide for the satisfactory singeing of its playmate.
+
+Considering the length of its lineage, how remarkably hale and well
+preserved is our own barbarity!
+
+We may now take our last look at the buffaloes, for we shall see them no
+more.  Again I quote my journal:
+
+‘_July_ 5_th_.—Men sulky because they have nothing to eat but rancid ham,
+and biscuit dust which has been so often soaked that it is mouldy and
+sour.  They are a dainty lot!  Samson and I left camp early with the
+hopes of getting meat.  While he was shooting prairie dogs his horse made
+off, and cost me nearly an hour’s riding to catch.  Then, accidentally
+letting go of my mustang, he too escaped; and I had to run him down with
+the other.  Towards evening, spied a small band of buffaloes, which we
+approached by leading our horses up a hollow.  They got our wind,
+however, and were gone before we were aware of it.  They were all young,
+and so fast, it took a twenty minutes’ gallop to come up with them.
+Samson’s horse put his foot in a hole, and the cropper they both got gave
+the band a long start, as it became a stern chase, and no heading off.
+
+‘At length I managed to separate one from the herd by firing my pistol
+into the “brown,” and then devoted my efforts to him alone.  Once or
+twice he turned and glared savagely through his mane.  When quite
+isolated he pulled up short, so did I. We were about sixty yards apart.
+I flung the reins upon the neck of the mustang, who was too blown to
+stir, and handling my rifle, waited for the bull to move so that I might
+see something more than the great shaggy front, which screened his body.
+But he stood his ground, tossing up the sand with his hoofs.  Presently,
+instead of turning tail, he put his head down, and bellowing with rage,
+came at me as hard as he could tear.  I had but a moment for decision,—to
+dig spurs into the mustang, or risk the shot.  I chose the latter; paused
+till I was sure of his neck, and fired when he was almost under me.  In
+an instant I was sent flying; and the mustang was on his back with all
+four legs in the air.
+
+‘The bull was probably as much astonished as we were.  His charge had
+carried him about thirty yards, at most, beyond us.  There he now stood;
+facing me, pawing the ground and snorting as before.  Badly wounded I
+knew him to be,—that was the worst of it; especially as my rifle, with
+its remaining loaded barrel, lay right between us.  To hesitate for a
+second only, was to lose the game.  There was no time to think of
+bruises; I crawled, eyes on him, straight for my weapon: got it—it was
+already cocked, and the stock unbroken—raised my knee for a rest.  We
+were only twenty yards apart (the shot meant death for one of the two),
+and just catching a glimpse of his shoulder-blade, I pulled.  I could
+hear the thud of the heavy bullet, and—what was sweeter music—the ugh! of
+the fatal groan.  The beast dropped on his knees, and a gush of blood
+spurted from his nostrils.
+
+‘But the wild devil of a mustang? that was my first thought now.
+Whenever one dismounted, it was necessary to loosen his long lariat, and
+let it trail on the ground.  Without this there was no chance of catching
+him.  I saw at once what had happened: by the greatest good fortune, at
+the last moment, he must have made an instinctive start, which probably
+saved his life, and mine too.  The bull’s horns had just missed his
+entrails and my leg,—we were broadside on to the charge,—and had caught
+him in the thigh, below the hip.  There was a big hole, and he was
+bleeding plentifully.  For all that, he wouldn’t let me catch him.  He
+could go faster on three legs than I on two.
+
+‘It was getting dark, I had not touched food since starting, nor had I
+wetted my lips.  My thirst was now intolerable.  The travelling rule,
+about keeping on, was an ugly incubus.  Samson would go his own ways—he
+had sense enough for that—but how, when, where, was I to quench my
+thirst?  Oh! for the tip of Lazarus’ finger—or for choice, a bottle of
+Bass—to cool my tongue!  Then too, whither would the mustang stray in the
+night if I rested or fell asleep?  Again and again I tried to stalk him
+by the starlight.  Twice I got hold of his tail, but he broke away.  If I
+drove him down to the river banks the chance of catching him would be no
+better, and I should lose the dry ground to rest on.
+
+‘It was about as unpleasant a night as I had yet passed.  Every now and
+then I sat down, and dropped off to sleep from sheer exhaustion.  Every
+time this happened I dreamed of sparkling drinks; then woke with a start
+to a lively sense of the reality, and anxious searches for the mustang.
+
+‘Directly the day dawned I drove the animal, now very stiff, straight
+down for the Platte.  He wanted water fully as much as his master; and
+when we sighted it he needed no more driving.  Such a hurry was he in
+that, in his rush for the river, he got bogged in the muddy swamp at its
+edge.  I seized my chance, and had him fast in a minute.  We both plunged
+into the stream; I, clothes and all, and drank, and drank, and drank.’
+
+That evening I caught up the cavalcade.
+
+How curious it is to look back upon such experiences from a different
+stage of life’s journey!  How would it have fared with me had my rifle
+exploded with the fall? it was knocked out of my hands at full cock.  How
+if the stock had been broken?  It had been thrown at least ten yards.
+How if the horn had entered my thigh instead of the horse’s?  How if I
+had fractured a limb, or had been stunned, or the bull had charged again
+while I was creeping up to him?  Any one, or more than one, of these
+contingencies were more likely to happen than not.  But nothing did
+happen, save—the best.
+
+Not a thought of the kind ever crossed my mind, either at the time or
+afterwards.  Yet I was not a thoughtless man, only an average man.  Nine
+Englishmen out of ten with a love of sport—as most Englishmen are—would
+have done, and have felt, just as I did.  I was bruised and still; but so
+one is after a run with hounds.  I had had many a nastier fall hunting in
+Derbyshire.  The worst that could happen did not happen; but the worst
+never—well, so rarely does.  One might shoot oneself instead of the
+pigeon, or be caught picking forbidden fruit.  Narrow escapes are as good
+as broad ones.  The truth is, when we are young, and active, and healthy,
+whatever happens, of the pleasant or lucky kind, we accept as a matter of
+course.
+
+Ah! youth! youth!  If we only knew when we were well off, when we were
+happy, when we possessed all that this world has to give!  If we but knew
+that love is only a matter of course so long as youth and its bounteous
+train is ours, we might perhaps make the most of it, and give up looking
+for—something better.  But what then?  Give up the ‘something better’?
+Give up pursuit,—the effort that makes us strong?  ‘Give up the sweets of
+hope’?   No! ’tis better as it is, perhaps.  The kitten plays with its
+tail, and the nightingale sings; but they think no more of happiness than
+the rose-bud of its beauty.  May be happiness comes not of too much
+knowing, or too much thinking either.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+FORT LARAMIE was a military station and trading post combined.  It was a
+stone building in what they called a ‘compound’ or open space, enclosed
+by a palisade.  When we arrived there, it was occupied by a troop of
+mounted riflemen under canvas, outside the compound.  The officers lived
+in the fort; and as we had letters to the Colonel — Somner — and to the
+Captain — Rhete, they were very kind and very useful to us.
+
+We pitched our camp by the Laramie river, four miles from the fort.
+Nearer than that there was not a blade of grass.  The cavalry horses and
+military mules needed all there was at hand.  Some of the mules we were
+allowed to buy, or exchange for our own.  We accordingly added six fresh
+ones to our cavalcade, and parted with two horses; which gave us a total
+of fifteen mules and six horses.  Government provisions were not to be
+had, so that we could not replenish our now impoverished stock.  This was
+a serious matter, as will be seen before long.  Nor was the evil lessened
+by my being laid up with a touch of fever—the effect, no doubt, of those
+drenches of stagnant water.  The regimental doctor was absent.  I could
+not be taken into the fort.  And, as we had no tent, and had thrown away
+almost everything but the clothes we wore, I had to rough it and take my
+chance.  Some relics of our medicine chest, together with a tough
+constitution, pulled me through.  But I was much weakened, and by no
+means fit for the work before us.  Fred did his best to persuade me from
+going further.  He confessed that he was utterly sick of the expedition;
+that his injured knee prevented him from hunting, or from being of any
+use in packing and camp work; that the men were a set of ruffians who did
+just as they chose—they grumbled at the hardships, yet helped themselves
+to the stores without restraint; that we had the Rocky Mountains yet to
+cross; after that, the country was unknown.  Colonel Somner had strongly
+advised us to turn back.  Forty of his men had tried two months ago to
+carry despatches to the regiment’s headquarters in Oregon.  Only five had
+got through; the rest had been killed and scalped.  Finally, that we had
+something like 1,200 miles to go, and were already in the middle of
+August.  It would be folly, obstinacy, madness, to attempt it.  He would
+stop and hunt where we were, as long as I liked; or he would go back with
+me.  He would hire fresh good men, and buy new horses; and, now that we
+knew the country, we could get to St. Louis before the end of September,
+and—.  There was no reasonable answer to be made.  I simply told him I
+had thought it over, and had decided to go on.  Like the plucky fellow
+and staunch friend that he was, he merely shrugged his shoulders, and
+quietly said, ‘Very well.  So be it.’
+
+Before leaving Fort Laramie a singular incident occurred, which must seem
+so improbable, that its narration may be taken for fiction.  It was,
+however, a fact.  There was plenty of game near our camping ground; and
+though the weather was very hot, one of the party usually took the
+trouble to bring in something to keep the pot supplied.  The sage hens,
+the buffalo or elk meat were handed over to Jacob, who made a stew with
+bacon and rice, enough for the evening meal and the morrow’s breakfast.
+After supper, when everyone had filled his stomach, the large kettle,
+covered with its lid, was taken off the fire, and this allowed to burn
+itself out.
+
+For four or five mornings running the kettle was found nearly empty, and
+all hands had to put up with a cup of coffee and mouldy biscuit dust.
+There was a good deal of unparliamentary language.  Everyone accused
+everyone else of filthy greediness.  It was disgusting that after eating
+all he could, a man hadn’t the decency to wait till the morning.  The pot
+had been full for supper, and, as every man could see, it was never half
+emptied—enough was always left for breakfast.  A resolution was
+accordingly passed that each should take his turn of an hour’s watch at
+night, till the glutton was caught in the act.
+
+My hour happened to be from 11 to 12 P.M.  I strongly suspected the thief
+to be an Indian, and loaded my big pistol with slugs on the chance.  It
+was a clear moonlight night.  I propped myself comfortably with a bag of
+hams; and concealed myself as well as I could in a bush of artemisia,
+which was very thick all round.  I had not long been on the look-out when
+a large grey wolf prowled slowly out of the bushes.  The night was bright
+as day; but every one of the men was sound asleep in a circle round the
+remains of the camp fire.  The wolf passed between them, hesitating as it
+almost touched a covering blanket.  Step by step it crept up to the
+kettle, took the handle of the lid between its jaws, lifted it off,
+placed it noiselessly on the ground, and devoured the savoury stew.
+
+I could not fire, because of the men.  I dared not move, lest I should
+disturb the robber.  I was even afraid the click of cocking the pistol
+would startle him and prevent my getting a quiet shot.  But patience was
+rewarded.  When satiated, the brute retired as stealthily as he had
+advanced; and as he passed within seven or eight yards of me I let him
+have it.  Great was my disappointment to see him scamper off.  How was it
+possible I could have missed him?  I must have fired over his back.  The
+men jumped to their feet and clutched their rifles; but, though
+astonished at my story, were soon at rest again.  After this the kettle
+was never robbed.  Four days later we were annoyed with such a stench
+that it was a question of shifting our quarters.  In hunting for the
+nuisance amongst the thicket of wormwood, the dead wolf was discovered
+not twenty yards from our centre.
+
+The reader would not thank me for an account of the monotonous drudgery,
+the hardships, the quarrellings, which grew worse from day to day after
+we left Fort Laramie.  Fred and I were about the only two who were on
+speaking terms; we clung to each other, as a sort of forlorn security
+against coming disasters.  Gradually it was dawning on me that, under the
+existing circumstances, the fulfilment of my hopes would be (as Fred had
+predicted) an impossibility; and that to persist in the attempt to
+realise them was to court destruction.  As yet, I said nothing of this to
+him.  Perhaps I was ashamed to.  Perhaps I secretly acknowledged to
+myself that he had been wiser than I, and that my stubbornness was
+responsible for the life itself of every one of the party.
+
+Doubtless thoughts akin to these must often have haunted the mind of my
+companion; but he never murmured; only uttered a hasty objurgation when
+troubles reached a climax, and invariably ended with a burst of cheery
+laughter which only the sulkiest could resist.  It was after a day of
+severe trials he proposed that we should go off by ourselves for a couple
+of nights in search of game, of which we were much in need.  The men were
+easily persuaded to halt and rest.  Samson had become a sort of
+nonentity.  Dysentery had terribly reduced his strength, and with it such
+intelligence as he could boast of.  We started at daybreak, right glad to
+be alone together and away from the penal servitude to which we were
+condemned.  We made for the Sweetwater, not very far from the foot of the
+South Pass, where antelope and black-tailed deer abounded.  We failed,
+however, to get near them—stalk after stalk miscarried.
+
+Disappointed and tired, we were looking out for some snug little hollow
+where we could light a fire without its being seen by the Indians, when,
+just as we found what we wanted, an antelope trotted up to a brow to
+inspect us.  I had a fairly good shot at him and missed.  This
+disheartened us both.  Meat was the one thing we now sorely needed to
+save the rapidly diminishing supply of hams.  Fred said nothing, but I
+saw by his look how this trifling accident helped to depress him.  I was
+ready to cry with vexation.  My rifle was my pride, the stag of my
+life—my _alter ego_.  It was never out of my hands; every day I practised
+at prairie dogs, at sage hens, at a mark even if there was no game.  A
+few days before we got to Laramie I had killed, right and left, two wild
+ducks, the second on the wing; and now, when so much depended on it, I
+could not hit a thing as big as a donkey.  The fact is, I was the worse
+for illness.  I had constant returns of fever, with bad shivering fits,
+which did not improve the steadiness of one’s hand.  However, we managed
+to get a supper.  While we were examining the spot where the antelope had
+stood, a leveret jumped up, and I knocked him over with my remaining
+barrel.  We fried him in the one tin plate we had brought with us, and
+thought it the most delicious dish we had had for weeks.
+
+As we lay side by side, smoke curling peacefully from our pipes, we
+chatted far into the night, of other days—of Cambridge, of our college
+friends, of London, of the opera, of balls, of women—the last a fruitful
+subject—and of the future.  I was vastly amused at his sudden outburst as
+some start of one of the horses picketed close to us reminded us of the
+actual present.  ‘If ever I get out of this d—d mess,’ he exclaimed,
+‘I’ll never go anywhere without my own French cook.’  He kept his word,
+to the end of his life, I believe.
+
+It was a delightful repose, a complete forgetting, for a night at any
+rate, of all impending care.  Each was cheered and strengthened for the
+work to come.  The spirit of enterprise, the love of adventure restored
+for the moment, believed itself a match for come what would.  The very
+animals seemed invigorated by the rest and the abundance of rich grass
+spreading as far as we could see.  The morning was bright and cool.  A
+delicious bath in the Sweetwater, a breakfast on fried ham and coffee,
+and once more in our saddles on the way back to camp, we felt (or fancied
+that we felt) prepared for anything.
+
+That is just what we were not.  Samson and the men, meeting with no game
+where we had left them, had moved on that afternoon in search of better
+hunting grounds.  The result was that when we overtook them, we found
+five mules up to their necks in a muddy creek.  The packs were sunk to
+the bottom, and the animals nearly drowned or strangled.  Fred and I
+rushed to the rescue.  At once we cut the ropes which tied them together;
+and, setting the men to pull at tails or heads, succeeded at last in
+extricating them.
+
+Our new-born vigour was nipped in the bud.  We were all drenched to the
+skin.  Two packs containing the miserable remains of our wardrobe, Fred’s
+and mine, were lost.  The catastrophe produced a good deal of bad
+language and bad blood.  Translated into English it came to this: ‘They
+had trusted to us, taking it for granted we knew what we were about.
+What business had we to “boss” the party if we were as ignorant as the
+mules?  We had guaranteed to lead them through to California [!] and had
+brought them into this “almighty fix” to slave like niggers and to
+starve.’  There was just truth enough in the Jeremiad to make it sting.
+It would not have been prudent, nay, not very safe, to return curse for
+curse.  But the breaking point was reached at last.  That night I, for
+one, had not much sleep.  I was soaked from head to foot, and had not a
+dry rag for a change.  Alternate fits of fever and rigor would alone have
+kept me awake; but renewed ponderings upon the situation and confirmed
+convictions of the peremptory necessity of breaking up the party, forced
+me to the conclusion that this was the right, the only, course to adopt.
+
+For another twenty-four hours I brooded over my plans.  Two main
+difficulties confronted me: the announcement to the men, who might
+mutiny; and the parting with Fred, which I dreaded far the most of the
+two.  Would he not think it treacherous to cast him off after the
+sacrifices he had made for me?  Implicitly we were as good as pledged to
+stand by each other to the last gasp.  Was it not mean and dastardly to
+run away from the battle because it was dangerous to fight it out?  Had
+friendship no claims superior to personal safety?  Was not my decision
+prompted by sheer selfishness?  Could anything be said in its defence?
+
+Yes; sentiment must yield to reason.  To go on was certain death for all.
+It was not too late to return, for those who wished it.  And when I had
+demonstrated, as I could easily do, the impossibility of continuance,
+each one could decide for himself.  The men were as reckless as they were
+ignorant.  However they might execrate us, we were still their natural
+leaders: their blame, indeed, implied they felt it.  No sentimental
+argument could obscure this truth, and this conviction was decisive.
+
+The next night and the day after were, from a moral point of view, the
+most trying perhaps, of the whole journey.  We had halted on a wide, open
+plain.  Due west of us in the far distance rose the snowy peaks of the
+mountains.  And the prairie on that side terminated in bluffs, rising
+gradually to higher spurs of the range.  When the packs were thrown off,
+and the men had turned, as usual, to help themselves to supper, I drew
+Fred aside and imparted my resolution to him.  He listened to it
+calmly—much more so than I had expected.  Yet it was easy to see by his
+unusual seriousness that he fully weighed the gravity of the purpose.
+All he said at the time was, ‘Let us talk it over after the men are
+asleep.’
+
+We did so.  We placed our saddles side by side—they were our regular
+pillows—and, covering ourselves with the same blanket, well out of
+ear-shot, discussed the proposition from every practical aspect.  He now
+combated my scheme, as I always supposed he would, by laying stress upon
+our bond of friendship.  This was met on my part by the arguments already
+set forth.  He then proposed an amendment, which almost upset my
+decision.  ‘It is true,’ he admitted, ‘that we cannot get through as we
+are going now; the provisions will not hold out another month, and it is
+useless to attempt to control the men.  But there are two ways out of the
+difficulty: we can reach Salt Lake City and winter there; or, if you are
+bent on going to California, why shouldn’t we take Jacob and Nelson (the
+Canadian), pay off the rest of the brutes, and travel together,—us four?’
+
+Whether ‘das ewig Wirkende’ that shapes our ends be beneficent or
+malignant is not easy to tell, till after the event.  Certain it is that
+sometimes we seem impelled by latent forces stronger than ourselves—if by
+self be meant one’s will.  We cannot give a reason for all we do; the
+infinite chain of cause and effect, which has had no beginning and will
+have no end, is part of the reckoning,—with this, finite minds can never
+grapple.
+
+It was destined (my stubbornness was none of my making) that I should
+remain obdurate.  Fred’s last resource was an attempt to persuade me (he
+really believed: I, too, thought it likely) that the men would show
+fight, annex beasts and provisions, and leave us to shift for ourselves.
+There were six of them, armed as we were, to us three, or rather us two,
+for Samson was a negligible quantity.  ‘We shall see,’ said I; and by
+degrees we dropped asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+BEFORE the first streak of dawn I was up and off to hunt for the horses
+and mules, which were now allowed to roam in search of feed.  On my
+return, the men were afoot, taking it easy as usual.  Some artemisia
+bushes were ablaze for the morning’s coffee.  No one but Fred had a
+suspicion of the coming crisis.  I waited till each one had lighted his
+pipe; then quietly requested the lot to gather the provision packs
+together, as it was desirable to take stock, and make some estimate of
+demand and supply.  Nothing loth, the men obeyed.  ‘Now,’ said I, ‘turn
+all the hams out of their bags, and let us see how long they will last.’
+When done: ‘What!’ I exclaimed, with well—feigned dismay, ‘that’s not
+all, surely?  There are not enough here to last a fortnight.  Where are
+the rest?   No more?  Why, we shall starve.’  The men’s faces fell; but
+never a murmur, nor a sound.  ‘Turn out the biscuit bags.  Here, spread
+these empty ham sacks, and pour the biscuit on to them.  Don’t lose any
+of the dust.  We shall want every crumb, mouldy or not.’  The gloomy
+faces grew gloomier.  What’s to be done?’  Silence.  ‘The first thing, as
+I think all will agree, is to divide what is left into nine equal
+shares—that’s our number now—and let each one take his ninth part, to do
+what he likes with.  You yourselves shall portion out the shares, and
+then draw lots for choice.’
+
+This presentation of the inevitable compelled submission.  The whole,
+amounting to twelve light mule packs (it had been fifteen fairly heavy
+ones after our purchases at Fort Laramie), was still a goodly bulk to
+look at.  The nine peddling dividends, when seen singly, were not quite
+what the shareholders had anticipated.
+
+Why were they still silent?  Why did they not rebel, and visit their
+wrath upon the directors?  Because they knew in their hearts that we had
+again and again predicted the catastrophe.  They knew we had warned them
+scores and scores of times of the consequences of their wilful and
+reckless improvidence.  They were stupefied, aghast, at the ruin they had
+brought upon themselves.  To turn upon us, to murder us, and divide our
+three portions between them, would have been suicidal.  In the first
+place, our situation was as desperate as theirs.  We should fight for our
+lives; and it was not certain, in fact it was improbable, that either
+Jacob or William would side against us.  Without our aid—they had not a
+compass among them—they were helpless.  The instinct of self-preservation
+bade them trust to our good will.
+
+So far, then, the game was won.  Almost humbly they asked what we advised
+them to do.  The answer was prompt and decisive: ‘Get back to Fort
+Laramie as fast as you can.’  ‘But how?  Were they to walk?  They
+couldn’t carry their packs.’  ‘Certainly not; we were English gentlemen,
+and would behave as such.  Each man should have his own mule; each, into
+the bargain, should receive his pay according to agreement.’  They were
+agreeably surprised.  I then very strongly counselled them not to travel
+together.  Past experience proved how dangerous this must be.  To avoid
+the temptation, even the chance, of this happening, the surest and safest
+plan would be for each party to start separately, and not leave till the
+last was out of sight.  For my part I had resolved to go alone.
+
+It was a melancholy day for everyone.  And to fill the cup of
+wretchedness to overflowing, the rain, beginning with a drizzle, ended
+with a downpour.  Consultations took place between men who had not spoken
+to one another for weeks.  Fred offered to go on, at all events to Salt
+Lake City, if Nelson the Canadian and Jacob would go with him.  Both
+eagerly closed with the offer.  They would be so much nearer to the
+‘diggings,’ and were, moreover, fond of their leader.  Louis would go
+back to Fort Laramie.  Potter and Morris would cross the mountains, and
+strike south for the Mormon city if their provisions and mules threatened
+to give out.  William would try his luck alone in the same way.  And
+there remained no one but Samson, undecided and unprovided for.  The
+strong weak man sat on the ground in the steady rain, smoking pipe after
+pipe; watching first the preparations, then the departures, one after the
+other, at intervals of an hour or so.  First the singles, then the pair;
+then, late in the afternoon, Fred and his two henchmen.
+
+It is needless to depict our separation.  I do not think either expected
+ever to see the other again.  Yet we parted after the manner of trueborn
+Britons, as if we should meet again in a day or two.  ‘Well, good-bye,
+old fellow.  Good luck.  What a beastly day, isn’t it?’  But emotions are
+only partially suppressed by subduing their expression.  The hearts of
+both were full.
+
+I watched the gradual disappearance of my dear friend, and thought with a
+sigh of my loss in Jacob and Nelson, the two best men of the band.  It
+was a comfort to reflect that they had joined Fred.  Jacob especially was
+full of resource; Nelson of energy and determination.  And the courage
+and cool judgment of Fred, and his presence of mind in emergencies, were
+all pledges for the safety of the trio.
+
+As they vanished behind a distant bluff, I turned to the sodden wreck of
+the deserted camp, and began actively to pack my mules.  Samson seemed
+paralysed by imbecility.
+
+‘What had I better do?’ he presently asked, gazing with dull eyes at his
+two mules and two horses.
+
+‘I don’t care what you do.  It is nothing to me.  You had better pack
+your mules before it is dark, or you may lose them.’
+
+‘I may as well go with you, I think.  I don’t care much about going back
+to Laramie.’
+
+He looked miserable.  I was so.  I had held out under a long and heavy
+strain.  Parting with Fred had, for the moment, staggered my resolution.
+I was sick at heart.  The thought of packing two mules twice a day,
+single-handed, weakened as I was by illness, appalled me.  And though
+ashamed of the perversity which had led me to fling away the better and
+accept the worse, I yielded.
+
+‘Very well then.  Make haste.  Get your traps together.  I’ll look after
+the horses.’
+
+It took more than an hour before the four mules were ready.  Like a fool,
+I left Samson to tie the led horses in a string, while I did the same
+with the mules.  He started, leading the horses.  I followed with the
+mule train some minutes later.  Our troubles soon began.  The two spare
+horses were nearly as wild as the mules.  I had not got far when I
+discerned through the rain a kicking and plunging and general
+entanglement of the lot ahead of me.  Samson had fastened the horses
+together with slip knots; and they were all doing their best to strangle
+one another and themselves.  To leave the mules was dangerous, yet two
+men were required to release the maddened horses.  At last the labour was
+accomplished; and once more the van pushed on with distinct instructions
+as to the line of march, it being now nearly dark.  The mules had
+naturally vanished in the gloom; and by the time I was again in my
+saddle, Samson was—I knew not where.  On and on I travelled, far into the
+night.  But failing to overtake my companion, and taking for granted that
+he had missed his way, I halted when I reached a stream, threw off the
+packs, let the animals loose, rolled myself in my blanket, and shut my
+eyes upon a trying day.
+
+Nothing happens but the unexpected.  Daylight woke me.  Samson, still in
+his rugs, was but a couple of hundred yards further up the stream.  In
+the afternoon of the third day we fell in with William.  He had cut
+himself a long willow wand and was fishing for trout, of which he had
+caught several in the upper reaches of the Sweetwater.  He threw down his
+rod, hastened to welcome our arrival, and at once begged leave to join
+us.  He was already sick of solitude.  He had come across Potter and
+Morris, who had left him that morning.  They had been visited by wolves
+in the night, (I too had been awakened by their howlings,) and poor
+William did not relish the thought of the mountains alone, with his one
+little white mule—which he called ‘Cream.’  He promised to do his utmost
+to help with the packing, and ‘not cost us a cent.’  I did not tell him
+how my heart yearned towards him, and how miserably my courage had oozed
+away since we parted, but made a favour of his request, and granted it.
+The gain, so long as it lasted, was incalculable.
+
+The summit of the South Pass is between 8000 and 9000 feet above the
+level of the Gulf of Mexico.  The Pass itself is many miles broad,
+undulating on the surface, but not abruptly.  The peaks of the Wind River
+Chain, immediately to the north, are covered with snow; and as we
+gradually got into the misty atmosphere we felt the cold severely.  The
+lariats—made of raw hide—became rods of ice; and the poor animals, whose
+backs were masses of festering raws, suffered terribly from exposure.  It
+was interesting to come upon proofs of the ‘divide’ within a mile of the
+most elevated point in the pass.  From the Hudson to this spot, all
+waters had flowed eastward; now suddenly every little rivulet was making
+for the Pacific.
+
+The descent is as gradual as the rise.  On the first day of it we lost
+two animals, a mule and Samson’s spare horse.  The latter, never equal to
+the heavy weight of its owner, could go no further; and the dreadful
+state of the mule’s back rendered packing a brutality.  Morris and
+Potter, who passed us a few days later, told us they had seen the horse
+dead, and partially eaten by wolves; the mule they had shot to put it out
+of its misery.
+
+In due course we reached Fort Hall, a trading post of the Hudson’s Bay
+Company, some 200 miles to the north-west of the South Pass.  Sir George
+Simpson, Chairman of that Company, had given me letters, which ensured
+the assistance of its servants.  It was indeed a rest and a luxury to
+spend a couple of idle days here, and revive one’s dim recollection of
+fresh eggs and milk.  But we were already in September.  Our animals were
+in a deplorable condition; and with the exception of a little flour, a
+small supply of dried meat, and a horse for Samson, Mr. Grant, the
+trader, had nothing to sell us.  He told us, moreover, that before we
+reached Fort Boisé, their next station, 300 miles further on, we had to
+traverse a great rocky desert, where we might travel four-and-twenty
+hours after leaving water, before we met with it again.  There was
+nothing for it but to press onwards.  It was too late now to cross the
+Sierra Nevada range, which lay between us and California; and with the
+miserable equipment left to us, it was all we could hope to do to reach
+Oregon before the passage of the Blue Mountains was blocked by the
+winter’s snow.
+
+Mr. Grant’s warnings were verified to the foot of the letter.  Great were
+our sufferings, and almost worse were those of the poor animals, from the
+want of water.  Then, too, unlike the desert of Sahara, where the pebbly
+sand affords a solid footing, the soil here is the calcined powder of
+volcanic débris, so fine that every step in it is up to one’s ankles;
+while clouds of it rose, choking the nostrils, and covering one from head
+to heel.  Here is a passage from my journal:
+
+‘Road rocky in places, but generally deep in the finest floury sand.  A
+strong and biting wind blew dead in our teeth, smothering us in dust,
+which filled every pore.  William presented such a ludicrous appearance
+that Samson and I went into fits over it.  An old felt hat, fastened on
+by a red cotton handkerchief, tied under his chin, partly hid his
+lantern-jawed visage; this, naturally of a dolorous cast, was screwed
+into wrinkled contortions by its efforts to resist the piercing gale.
+The dust, as white as flour, had settled thick upon him, the extremity of
+his nasal organ being the only rosy spot left; its pearly drops lodged
+upon a chin almost as prominent.  His shoulders were shrugged to a level
+with his head, and his long legs dangled from the back of little “Cream”
+till they nearly touched the ground.’
+
+We laughed at him, it is true, but he was so good-natured, so patient, so
+simple-minded, and, now and then, when he and I were alone, so
+sentimental and confidential about Mary, and the fortune he meant to
+bring her back, that I had a sort of maternal liking for him; and even a
+vicarious affection for Mary herself, the colour of whose eyes and
+hair—nay, whose weight avoirdupois—I was now accurately acquainted with.
+No, the honest fellow had not quite the grit of a ‘Leatherstocking.’
+
+One night, when we had halted after dark, he went down to a gully (we
+were not then in the desert) to look for water for our tea.  Samson,
+armed with the hatchet, was chopping wood.  I stayed to arrange the
+packs, and spread the blankets.  Suddenly I heard a voice from the bottom
+of the ravine, crying out, ‘Bring the guns for God’s sake!  Make haste!
+Bring the guns!’  I rushed about in the dark, tumbling over the saddles,
+but could nowhere lay my hands on a rifle.  Still the cry was for ‘Guns!’
+My own, a muzzle-loader, was discharged, but a rifle none the less.
+Snatching up this, and one of my pistols, which, by the way, had fallen
+into the river a few hours before, I shouted for Samson, and ran headlong
+to the rescue.  Before I got to the bottom of the hill I heard groans,
+which sounded like the last of poor William.  I holloaed to know where he
+was, and was answered in a voice that discovered nothing worse than
+terror.
+
+It appeared that he had met a grizzly bear drinking at the very spot
+where he was about to fill his can; that he had bolted, and the bear had
+pursued him; but that he had ‘cobbled the bar with rocks,’ had hit it in
+the eye, or nose, he was not sure which, and thus narrowly escaped with
+his life.  I could not help laughing at his story, though an examination
+of the place next morning so far verified it, that his footprints and the
+bear’s were clearly intermingled on the muddy shore of the stream.  To
+make up for his fright, he was extremely courageous when restored by tea
+and a pipe.  ‘If we would follow the trail with him, he’d go right slick
+in for her anyhow.  If his rifle didn’t shoot plum, he’d a bowie as ’ud
+rise her hide, and no mistake.  He’d be darn’d if he didn’t make meat of
+that bar in the morning.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+WE were now steering by compass.  Our course was nearly north-west.  This
+we kept, as well as the formation of the country and the watercourses
+would permit.  After striking the great Shoshone, or Snake River, which
+eventually becomes the Columbia, we had to follow its banks in a
+southerly direction.  These are often supported by basaltic columns
+several hundred feet in height.  Where that was the case, though close to
+water, we suffered most from want of it.  And cold as were the nights—it
+was the middle of September—the sun was intensely hot.  Every day, every
+mile, we were hoping for a change—not merely for access to the water, but
+that we might again pursue our westerly course.  The scenery was
+sometimes very striking.  The river hereabouts varies from one hundred to
+nearly three hundred yards in width; sometimes rushing through narrow
+gorges, sometimes descending in continuous rapids, sometimes spread out
+in smooth shallow reaches.  It was for one of these that we were in
+search, for only at such points was the river passable.
+
+It was night-time when we came to one of the great falls.  We were able
+here to get at water; and having halted through the day, on account of
+the heat, kept on while our animals were refreshed.  We had to ascend the
+banks again, and wind along the brink of the precipice.  From this the
+view was magnificent.  The moon shone brightly upon the dancing waves
+hundreds of feet below us, and upon the rapids which extended as far as
+we could see.  The deep shade of the high cliffs contrasted in its
+impenetrable darkness with the brilliancy of the silvery foam.  The vast
+plain which we overlooked, fading in the soft light, rose gradually into
+a low range of distant hills.  The incessant roar of the rapids, and the
+desert stillness of all else around, though they lulled one’s senses, yet
+awed one with a feeling of insignificance and impotence in the presence
+of such ruthless force, amid such serene and cold indifference.
+Unbidden, the consciousness was there, that for some of us the coming
+struggle with those mighty waters was fraught with life or death.
+
+At last we came upon a broad stretch of the river which seemed to offer
+the possibilities we sought for.  Rather late in the afternoon we decided
+to cross here, notwithstanding William’s strong reluctance to make the
+venture.  Part of his unwillingness was, I knew, due to apprehension,
+part to his love of fishing.  Ever since we came down upon the Snake
+River we had seen quantities of salmon.  He persisted in the belief that
+they were to be caught with the rod.  The day before, all three of us had
+waded into the river, and flogged it patiently for a couple of hours,
+while heavy fish were tumbling about above and below us.  We caught
+plenty of trout, but never pricked a salmon.  Here the broad reach was
+alive with them, and William begged hard to stop for the afternoon and
+pursue the gentle sport.  It was not to be.
+
+The tactics were as usual.  Samson led the way, holding the lariat to
+which the two spare horses were attached.  In crossing streams the mules
+would always follow the horses.  They were accordingly let loose, and
+left to do so.  William and I brought up the rear, driving before us any
+mule that lagged.  My journal records the sequel:
+
+‘At about equal distances from each other and the main land were two
+small islands.  The first of these we reached without trouble.  The
+second was also gained; but the packs were wetted, the current being
+exceedingly rapid.  The space remaining to be forded was at least two
+hundred yards; and the stream so strong that I was obliged to turn my
+mare’s head up it to prevent her being carried off her legs.  While thus
+resting, William with difficulty,—the water being over his knees,—sidled
+up to me.  He wanted to know if I still meant to cross.  For all answer,
+I laughed at him.  In truth I had not the smallest misgiving.  Strong as
+was the current, the smooth rocky bottom gave a good foothold to the
+animals; and, judging by the great width of the river, there was no
+reason to suppose that its shallowness would not continue.
+
+‘We paused for a few minutes to observe Samson, who was now within forty
+or fifty yards of the opposite bank; and, as I concluded, past all
+danger.  Suddenly, to the astonishment of both of us, he and his horse
+and the led animals disappeared under water; the next instant they were
+struggling and swimming for the bank.  Tied together as they were, there
+was a deal of snorting and plunging; and Samson (with his habitual
+ingenuity) had fastened the lariat either to himself or his saddle; so
+that he was several times dragged under before they all got to the bank
+in safety.
+
+‘These events were watched by William with intense anxiety.  With a
+pitiable look of terror he assured me he could not swim a yard; it was
+useless for him to try to cross; he would turn back, and find his way to
+Salt Lake City.
+
+‘“But,” I remonstrated, “if you turn back, you will certainly starve;
+everything we possess is over there with the mules; your blanket, even
+your rifle, are with the packs.  It is impossible to get the mules back
+again.  Give little Cream her head, sit still in your saddle, and she’ll
+carry you through that bit of deep water with ease.”
+
+‘“I can live by fishing,” he plaintively answered.  He still held his
+long rod, and the incongruity of it added to the pathos of his despair.
+I reminded him of a bad river we had before crossed, and how his mule had
+swum it safely with him on her back.  I promised to keep close to him,
+and help him if need were, though I was confident if he left everything
+to Cream there would be no danger.  “Well, if he must, he must.  But, if
+anything happened to him, would I write and tell Mary?  I knew her
+address; leastways, if I didn’t, it was in his bag on the brown mule.
+And tell her I done my best.”
+
+‘The water was so clear one could see every crack in the rock beneath.
+Fortunately, I took the precaution to strip to my shirt; fastened
+everything, even my socks, to the saddle; then advanced cautiously ahead
+of William to the brink of the chasm.  We were, in fact, upon the edge of
+a precipice.  One could see to an inch where the gulf began.  As my mare
+stepped into it I slipped off my saddle; when she rose I laid hold of her
+tail, and in two or three minutes should have been safe ashore.
+
+‘Looking back to see how it had fared with William, I at once perceived
+his danger.  He had clasped his mule tightly round the neck with his
+arms, and round the body with his long legs.  She was plunging violently
+to get rid of her load.  Already the pair were forty or fifty yards below
+me.  Instantly I turned and swam to his assistance.  The struggles of the
+mule rendered it dangerous to get at him.  When I did so he was partially
+dazed; his hold was relaxed.  Dragging him away from the hoofs of the
+animal, I begged him to put his hands on my shoulders or hips.  He was
+past any effort of the kind.  I do not think he heard me even.  He seemed
+hardly conscious of anything.  His long wet hair plastered over the face
+concealed his features.  Beyond stretching out his arms, like an infant
+imploring help, he made no effort to save himself.
+
+‘I seized him firmly by the collar,—unfortunately, with my right hand,
+leaving only my left to stem the torrent.  But how to keep his face out
+of the water?  At every stroke I was losing strength; we were being swept
+away, for him, to hopeless death.  At length I touched bottom, got both
+hands under his head, and held it above the surface.  He still breathed,
+still puffed the hair from his lips.  There was still a hope, if I could
+but maintain my footing.  But, alas! each instant I was losing
+ground—each instant I was driven back, foot by foot, towards the gulf.
+The water, at first only up to my chest, was now up to my shoulders, now
+up to my neck.  My strength was gone.  My arms ached till they could bear
+no more.  They sank involuntarily.  William glided from my hands.  He
+fell like lead till his back lay stretched upon the rock.  His arms were
+spread out, so that his body formed a cross.  I paddled above it in the
+clear, smooth water, gazing at his familiar face, till two or three large
+bubbles burst upon the surface; then, hardly knowing what I was doing,
+floated mechanically from the trapper’s grave.
+
+                              . . . . . . .
+
+‘My turn was now to come.  At first, the right, or western, bank being
+within sixty or seventy yards, being also my proper goal, I struck out
+for it with mere eagerness to land as soon as possible.  The attempt
+proved unsuccessful.  Very well, then, I would take it quietly—not try to
+cross direct, but swim on gently, keeping my head that way.  By degrees I
+got within twenty yards of the bank, was counting joyfully on the rest
+which a few more strokes would bring me, when—wsh—came a current, and
+swept me right into the middle of the stream again.
+
+‘I began to be alarmed.  I must get out of this somehow or another;
+better on the wrong side than not at all.  So I let myself go, and made
+for the shore we had started from.
+
+‘Same fate.  When well over to the left bank I was carried out again.
+What! was I too to be drowned?  It began to look like it.  I was getting
+cold, numb, exhausted.  And—listen!  What is that distant sound?  Rapids?
+Yes, rapids.  My flannel shirt stuck to, and impeded me; I would have it
+off.  I got it over my head, but hadn’t unbuttoned the studs—it stuck,
+partly over my head.  I tugged to tear it off.  Got a drop of water into
+my windpipe; was choking; tugged till I got the shirt right again.  Then
+tried floating on my back—to cough and get my breath.  Heard the rapids
+much louder.  It was getting dark now.  The sun was setting in glorious
+red and gold.  I noticed this, noticed the salmon rolling like porpoises
+around me, and thought of William with his rod.  Strangest of all, for I
+had not noticed her before, little Cream was still struggling for dear
+life not a hundred yards below me; sometimes sinking, sometimes
+reappearing, but on her way to join her master, as surely as I thought
+that I was.
+
+‘In my distress, the predominant thought was the loneliness of my fate,
+the loneliness of my body after death.  There was not a living thing to
+see me die.
+
+‘For the first time I felt, not fear, but loss of hope.  I could only
+beat the water with feeble and futile splashes.  I was completely at its
+mercy.  And—as we all then do—I prayed—prayed for strength, prayed that I
+might be spared.  But my strength was gone.  My legs dropped powerless in
+the water.  I could but just keep my nose or mouth above it.  My legs
+sank, and my feet—touched bottom.
+
+‘In an instant, as if from an electric shock, a flush of energy suffused
+my brain and limbs.  I stood upright in an almost tranquil pool.  An eddy
+had lodged me on a sandbank.  Between it and the land was scarcely twenty
+yards.  Through this gap the stream ran strong as ever.  I did not want
+to rest; I did not pause to think.  In I dashed; and a single spurt
+carried me to the shore.  I fell on my knees, and with a grateful heart
+poured out gratitude for my deliverance.
+
+                              . . . . . . .
+
+‘I was on the wrong side, the side from which we started.  The river was
+yet to cross.  I had not tasted food since our early meal.  How long I
+had been swimming I know not, but it was dark now, starlight at least.
+The nights were bitterly cold, and my only clothing a wet flannel shirt.
+And oh! the craving for companionship, someone to talk to—even Samson.
+This was a stronger need than warmth, or food, or clothing; so strong
+that it impelled me to try again.
+
+‘The poor sandy soil grew nothing but briars and small cactuses.  In the
+dark I kept treading on the little prickly plants, but I hurried on till
+I came in sight of Samson’s fire.  I could see his huge form as it
+intercepted the comfortable blaze.  I pictured him making his tea,
+broiling some of William’s trout, and spreading his things before the
+fire to dry.  I could see the animals moving around the glow.  It was my
+home.  How I yearned for it!  How should I reach it, if ever?  In this
+frame of mind the attempt was irresistible.  I started as near as I could
+from opposite the two islands.  As on horseback, I got pretty easily to
+the first island.  Beyond this I was taken off my feet by the stream; and
+only with difficulty did I once more regain the land.
+
+My next object was to communicate with Samson.  By putting both hands to
+my mouth and shouting with all my force I made him hear.  I could see him
+get up and come to the water’s edge; though he could not see me, his
+stentorian voice reached me plainly.  His first words were:
+
+‘“Is that you, William?  Coke is drowned.”
+
+‘I corrected him, and thus replied:
+
+‘“Do you remember a bend near some willows, where you wanted to cross
+yesterday?”
+
+‘“Yes.”
+
+‘“About two hours higher up the river?”
+
+‘“I remember.”
+
+‘“Would you know the place again?”
+
+‘“Yes.”
+
+‘“Are you sure?”
+
+‘“Yes, yes.”
+
+‘“You will see me by daylight in the morning.  When I start, you will
+take my mare, my clothes, and some food; make for that place and wait
+till I come.  I will cross there.”
+
+‘“All right.”
+
+‘“Keep me in sight as long as you can.  Don’t forget the food.”
+
+‘It will be gathered from my words that definite instructions were deemed
+necessary; and the inference—at least it was mine—will follow, that if a
+mistake were possible Samson would avail himself of it.  The night was
+before me.  The river had yet to be crossed.  But, strange as it now
+seems to me, I had no misgivings!  My heart never failed me.  My prayer
+had been heard.  I had been saved.  How, I knew not.  But this I knew, my
+trust was complete.  I record this as a curious psychological occurrence;
+for it supported me with unfailing energy through the severe trial which
+I had yet to undergo.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+OUR experiences are little worth unless they teach us to reflect.  Let us
+then pause to consider this hourly experience of human beings—this
+remarkable efficacy of prayer.  There can hardly be a contemplative mind
+to which, with all its difficulties, the inquiry is not familiar.
+
+To begin with, ‘To pray is to expect a miracle.’  ‘Prayer in its very
+essence,’ says a thoughtful writer, ‘implies a belief in the possible
+intervention of a power which is above nature.’  How was it in my case?
+What was the essence of my belief?  Nothing less than this: that God
+would have permitted the laws of nature, ordained by His infinite wisdom
+to fulfil His omniscient designs and pursue their natural course in
+accordance with His will, had not my request persuaded Him to suspend
+those laws in my favour.
+
+The very belief in His omniscience and omnipotence subverts the spirit of
+such a prayer.  It is on the perfection of God that Malebranche bases his
+argument that ‘Dieu n’agit pas par des volontés particulières.’  Yet
+every prayer affects to interfere with the divine purposes.
+
+It may here be urged that the divine purposes are beyond our
+comprehension.  God’s purposes may, in spite of the inconceivability,
+admit the efficacy of prayer as a link in the chain of causation; or, as
+Dr. Mozely holds, it may be that ‘a miracle is not an anomaly or
+irregularity, but part of the system of the universe.’  We will not
+entangle ourselves in the abstruse metaphysical problem which such
+hypotheses involve, but turn for our answer to what we do know—to the
+history of this world, to the daily life of man.  If the sun rises on the
+evil as well as on the good, if the wicked ‘become old, yea, are mighty
+in power,’ still, the lightning, the plague, the falling chimney-pot,
+smite the good as well as the evil.  Even the dumb animal is not spared.
+‘If,’ says Huxley, ‘our ears were sharp enough to hear all the cries of
+pain that are uttered in the earth by man and beasts we should be
+deafened by one continuous scream.’  ‘If there are any marks at all of
+special design in creation,’ writes John Stuart Mill, ‘one of the things
+most evidently designed is that a large proportion of all animals should
+pass their existence in tormenting and devouring other animals.  They
+have been lavishly fitted out with the instruments for that purpose.’  Is
+it credible, then, that the Almighty Being who, as we assume, hears this
+continuous scream—animal-prayer, as we may call it—and not only pays no
+heed to it, but lavishly fits out animals with instruments for tormenting
+and devouring one another, that such a Being should suspend the laws of
+gravitation and physiology, should perform a miracle equal to that of
+arresting the sun—for all miracles are equipollent—simply to prolong the
+brief and useless existence of such a thing as man, of one man out of the
+myriads who shriek, and—shriek in vain?
+
+To pray is to expect a miracle.  Then comes the further question: Is this
+not to expect what never yet has happened?  The only proof of any miracle
+is the interpretation the witness or witnesses put upon what they have
+seen.  (Traditional miracles—miracles that others have been told, that
+others have seen—we need not trouble our heads about.)  What that proof
+has been worth hitherto has been commented upon too often to need
+attention here.  Nor does the weakness of the evidence for miracles
+depend solely on the fact that it rests, in the first instance, on the
+senses, which may be deceived; or upon inference, which may be erroneous.
+It is not merely that the infallibility of human testimony discredits the
+miracles of the past.  The impossibility that human knowledge, that
+science, can ever exhaust the possibilities of Nature, precludes the
+immediate reference to the Supernatural for all time.  It is pure
+sophistry to argue, as do Canon Row and other defenders of miracles, that
+‘the laws of Nature are no more violated by the performance of a miracle
+than they are by the activities of a man.’  If these arguments of the
+special pleaders had any force at all, it would simply amount to this:
+‘The activities of man’ being a part of nature, we have no evidence of a
+supernatural being, which is the sole _raison d’être_ of miracle.
+
+Yet thousands of men in these days who admit the force of these
+objections continue, in spite of them, to pray.  Huxley, the foremost of
+‘agnostics,’ speaks with the utmost respect of his friend Charles
+Kingsley’s conviction from experience of the efficacy of prayer.  And
+Huxley himself repeatedly assures us, in some form or other, that ‘the
+possibilities of “may be” are to me infinite.’  The puzzle is, in truth,
+on a par with that most insolvable of all puzzles—Free Will or
+Determinism.  Reason and the instinct of conscience are in both cases
+irreconcilable.  We are conscious that we are always free to choose,
+though not to act; but reason will have it that this is a delusion.
+There is no logical clue to the _impasse_.  Still, reason
+notwithstanding, we take our freedom (within limits) for granted, and
+with like inconsequence we pray.
+
+It must, I think, be admitted that the belief, delusive or warranted, is
+efficacious in itself.  Whether generated in the brain by the nerve
+centres, or whatever may be its origin, a force coincident with it is
+diffused throughout the nervous system, which converts the subject of it,
+just paralysed by despair, into a vigorous agent, or, if you will,
+automaton.
+
+Now, those who admit this much argue, with no little force, that the
+efficacy of prayer is limited to its reaction upon ourselves.  Prayer, as
+already observed, implies belief in supernatural intervention.  Such
+belief is competent to beget hope, and with it courage, energy, and
+effort.  Suppose contrition and remorse induce the sufferer to pray for
+Divine aid and mercy, suppose suffering is the natural penalty of his or
+her own misdeeds, and suppose the contrition and the prayer lead to
+resistance of similar temptations, and hence to greater happiness,—can it
+be said that the power to resist temptation or endure the penalty are due
+to supernatural aid?  Or must we not infer that the fear of the
+consequences of vice or folly, together with an earnest desire and
+intention to amend, were adequate in themselves to account for the good
+results?
+
+Reason compels us to the latter conclusion.  But what then?  Would this
+prove prayer to be delusive?  Not necessarily.  That the laws of Nature
+(as argued above) are not violated by miracle, is a mere perversion of
+the accepted meaning of ‘miracle,’ an _ignoratio elenchi_.  But in the
+case of prayer that does not ask for the abrogation of Nature’s laws, it
+ceases to be a miracle that we pray for or expect: for are not the laws
+of the mind also laws of Nature?  And can we explain them any more than
+we can explain physical laws?  A psychologist can formulate the mental
+law of association, but he can no more explain it than Newton could
+explain the laws of attraction and repulsion which pervade the world of
+matter.  We do not know, we cannot know, what the conditions of our
+spiritual being are.  The state of mind induced by prayer may, in
+accordance with some mental law, be essential to certain modes of
+spiritual energy, specially conducive to the highest of all moral or
+spiritual results: taken in this sense, prayer may ask, not the
+suspension, but the enactment, of some natural law.
+
+Let it, however, be granted, for argument’s sake, that the belief in the
+efficacy of prayer is delusive, and that the beneficial effects of the
+belief—the exalted state of mind, the enhanced power to endure suffering
+and resist temptation, the happiness inseparable from the assurance that
+God hears, and can and will befriend us—let it be granted that all this
+is due to sheer hallucination, is this an argument against prayer?
+Surely not.  For, in the first place, the incontestable fact that belief
+does produce these effects is for us an ultimate fact as little capable
+of explanation as any physical law whatever; and may, therefore, for
+aught we know, or ever can know, be ordained by a Supreme Being.
+Secondly, all the beneficial effects, including happiness, are as real in
+themselves as if the belief were no delusion.
+
+It may be said that a ‘fool’s paradise’ is liable to be turned into a
+hell of disappointment; and that we pay the penalty of building happiness
+on false foundations.  This is true in a great measure; but it is
+absolutely without truth as regards our belief in prayer, for the simple
+reason that if death dispel the delusion, it at the same time dispels the
+deluded.  However great the mistake, it can never be found out.  But they
+who make it will have been the better and the happier while they lived.
+
+For my part, though immeasurably preferring the pantheism of Goethe, or
+of Renan (without his pessimism), to the anthropomorphic God of the
+Israelites, or of their theosophic legatees, the Christians, however
+inconsistent, I still believe in prayer.  I should not pray that I may
+not die ‘for want of breath’; nor for rain, while ‘the wind was in the
+wrong quarter.’  My prayers would not be like those overheard, on his
+visit to Heaven, by Lucian’s Menippus: ‘O Jupiter, let me become a king!’
+‘O Jupiter, let my onions and my garlic thrive!’  ‘O Jupiter, let my
+father soon depart from hence!’  But when the workings of my moral nature
+were concerned, when I needed strength to bear the ills which could not
+be averted, or do what conscience said was right, then I should pray.
+And, if I had done my best in the same direction, I should trust in the
+Unknowable for help.
+
+Then too, is not gratitude to Heaven the best of prayers?  Unhappy he who
+has never felt it!  Unhappier still, who has never had cause to feel it!
+
+It may be deemed unwarrantable thus to draw the lines between what, for
+want of better terms, we call Material and Spiritual.  Still, reason is
+but the faculty of a very finite being; and, as in the enigma of the
+will, utterly incapable of solving any problems beyond those whose data
+are furnished by the senses.  Reason is essentially realistic.  Science
+is its domain.  But science demonstratively proves that things are not
+what they seem; their phenomenal existence is nothing else than their
+relation to our special intelligence.  We speak and think as if the
+discoveries of science were absolutely true, true in themselves, not
+relatively so for us only.  Yet, beings with senses entirely different
+from ours would have an entirely different science.  For them, our best
+established axioms would be inconceivable, would have no more meaning
+than that ‘Abracadabra is a second intention.’
+
+Science, supported by reason, assures us that the laws of nature—the laws
+of realistic phenomena—are never suspended at the prayers of man.  To
+this conclusion the educated world is now rapidly coming.  If,
+nevertheless, men thoroughly convinced of this still choose to believe in
+the efficacy of prayer, reason and science are incompetent to confute
+them.  The belief must be tried elsewhere,—it must be transferred to the
+tribunal of conscience, or to a metaphysical court, in which reason has
+no jurisdiction.
+
+This by no means implies that reason, in its own province, is to yield to
+the ‘feeling’ which so many cite as the infallible authority for their
+‘convictions.’
+
+We must not be asked to assent to contradictory propositions.  We must
+not be asked to believe that injustice, cruelty, and implacable revenge,
+are not execrable because the Bible tells us they were habitually
+manifested by the tribal god of the Israelites.  The fables of man’s fall
+and of the redemption are fraught with the grossest violation of our
+moral conscience, and will, in time, be repudiated accordingly.  It is
+idle to say, as the Church says, ‘these are mysteries above our human
+reason.’  They are fictions, fabrications which modern research has
+traced to their sources, and which no unperverted mind would entertain
+for a moment.  Fanatical belief in the truth of such dogmas based upon
+‘feeling’ have confronted all who have gone through the severe ordeal of
+doubt.  A couple of centuries ago, those who held them would have burnt
+alive those who did not.  Now, they have to console themselves with the
+comforting thought of the fire that shall never be quenched.  But even
+Job’s patience could not stand the self-sufficiency of his pious
+reprovers.  The sceptic too may retort: ‘No doubt but ye are the people,
+and wisdom shall die with you.’
+
+Conviction of this kind is but the convenient substitute for knowledge
+laboriously won, for the patient pursuit of truth at all costs—a plea in
+short, for ignorance, indolence, incapacity, and the rancorous bigotry
+begotten of them.
+
+The distinction is not a purely sentimental one—not a belief founded
+simply on emotion.  There is a physical world—the world as known to our
+senses, and there is a psychical world—the world of feeling,
+consciousness, thought, and moral life.
+
+Granting, if it pleases you, that material phenomena may be the causes of
+mental phenomena, that ‘la pensée est le produit du corps entier,’ still
+the two cannot be thought of as one.  Until it can be proved that ‘there
+is nothing in the world but matter, force, and necessity,’—which will
+never be, till we know how we lift our hands to our mouths,—there remains
+for us a world of mystery, which reason never can invade.
+
+It is a pregnant thought of John Mill’s, apropos of material and mental
+interdependence or identity, ‘that the uniform coexistence of one fact
+with another does not make the one fact a part of the other, or the same
+with it.’
+
+A few words of Renan’s may help to support the argument.  ‘Ce qui révèle
+le vrai Dieu, c’est le sentiment moral.  Si l’humanité n’était
+qu’intelligente, elle serait athée.  Le devoir, le dévouement, le
+sacrifice, toutes choses dont l’histoire est pleine, sont inexplicables
+sans Dieu.’  For all these we need help.  Is it foolishness to pray for
+it?  Perhaps so.  Yet, perhaps not; for ‘Tout est possible, même Dieu.’
+
+Whether possible, or impossible, this much is absolutely certain: man
+must and will have a religion as long as this world lasts.  Let us not
+fear truth.  Criticism will change men’s dogmas, but it will not change
+man’s nature.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+MY confidence was restored, and with it my powers of endurance.  Sleep
+was out of the question.  The night was bright and frosty; and there was
+not heat enough in my body to dry my flannel shirt.  I made shift to pull
+up some briar bushes; and, piling them round me as a screen, got some
+little shelter from the light breeze.  For hours I lay watching Alpha
+Centauri—the double star of the Great Bear’s pointers—dipping under the
+Polar star like the hour hand of a clock.  My thoughts, strange to say,
+ran little on the morrow; they dwelt almost solely upon William Nelson.
+How far was I responsible, to what extent to blame, for leading him,
+against his will, to death?  I re-enacted the whole event.  Again he was
+in my hands, still breathing when I let him go, knowing, as I did so,
+that the deed consigned him living to his grave.  In this way I passed
+the night.
+
+Just as the first streaks of the longed-for dawn broke in the East, I
+heard distant cries which sounded like the whoops of Indians.  Then they
+ceased, but presently began again much nearer than before.  There was no
+mistake about them now,—they were the yappings of a pack of wolves,
+clearly enough, upon our track of yesterday.  A few minutes more, and the
+light, though still dim, revealed their presence coming on at full
+gallop.  In vain I sought for stick or stone.  Even the river, though I
+took to it, would not save me if they meant mischief.  When they saw me
+they slackened their pace.  I did not move.  They then halted, and
+forming a half-moon some thirty yards off, squatted on their haunches,
+and began at intervals to throw up their heads and howl.
+
+My chief hope was in the coming daylight.  They were less likely to
+attack a man then than in the dark.  I had often met one or two together
+when hunting; these had always bolted.  But I had never seen a pack
+before; and I knew a pack meant that they were after food.  All depended
+on their hunger.
+
+When I kept still they got up, advanced a yard or two, then repeated
+their former game.  Every minute the light grew stronger; its warmer
+tints heralded the rising sun.  Seeing, however, that my passivity
+encouraged them, and convinced that a single step in retreat would bring
+the pack upon me, I determined in a moment of inspiration to run amuck,
+and trust to Providence for the consequences.  Flinging my arms wildly
+into the air, and frantically yelling with all my lungs, I dashed
+straight in for the lot of them.  They were, as I expected, taken by
+surprise.  They jumped to their feet and turned tail, but again
+stopped—this time farther off, and howled with vexation at having to wait
+till their prey succumbed.
+
+The sun rose.  Samson was on the move.  I shouted to him, and he to me.
+Finding me thus reinforced the enemy slunk off, and I was not sorry to
+see the last of my ugly foes.  I now repeated my instructions about our
+trysting place, waited patiently till Samson had breakfasted (which he
+did with the most exasperating deliberation), saw him saddle my horse and
+leave his camp.  I then started upon my travels up the river, to meet
+him.  After a mile or so, the high ground on both banks obliged us to
+make some little detour.  We then lost sight of each other; nor was he to
+be seen when I reached the appointed spot.
+
+Long before I did so I began to feel the effects of my labours.  My naked
+feet were in a terrible state from the cactus thorns, which I had been
+unable to avoid in the dark; occasional stones, too, had bruised and made
+them very tender.  Unable to shuffle on at more than two miles an hour at
+fastest, the happy thought occurred to me of tearing up my shirt and
+binding a half round each foot.  This enabled me to get on much better;
+but when the September sun was high, my unprotected skin and head paid
+the penalty.  I waited for a couple of hours, I dare say, hoping Samson
+would appear.  But concluding at length that he had arrived long before
+me, through the slowness of my early progress, and had gone further up
+the river—thinking perhaps that I had meant some other place—I gave him
+up; and, full of internal ‘d—n’ at his incorrigible consistency, plodded
+on and on for—I knew not where.
+
+Why, it may be asked, did I not try to cross where I had intended?  I
+must confess my want of courage.  True, the river here was not half, not
+a third, of the width of the scene of my disasters; but I was weak in
+body and in mind.  Had anything human been on the other side to see me—to
+see how brave I was, (alas! poor human nature!)—I could have plucked up
+heart to risk it.  It would have been such a comfort to have some one to
+see me drown!  But it is difficult to play the hero with no spectators
+save oneself.  I shall always have a fellow-feeling with the Last Man:
+practically, my position was about as uncomfortable as his will be.
+
+One of the worst features of it was, what we so often suffered from
+before—the inaccessibility of water.  The sun was broiling, and the and
+soil reflected its scorching rays.  I was feverish from exhaustion, and
+there was nothing, nothing to look forward to.  Mile after mile I crawled
+along, sometimes half disposed to turn back, and try the deep but narrow
+passage; then that inexhaustible fountain of last hopes—the
+Unknown—tempted me to go forward.  I persevered; when behold! as I passed
+a rock, an Indian stood before me.
+
+He was as naked as I was.  Over his shoulder he carried a spear as long
+as a salmon rod.  Though neither had foreseen the other, he was
+absolutely unmoved, showed no surprise, no curiosity, no concern.  He
+stood still, and let me come up to him.  My only, or rather my uppermost,
+feeling was gladness.  Of course the thought crossed me of what he might
+do if he owed the white skins a grudge.  If any white man had ever harmed
+one of his tribe, I was at his mercy; and it was certain that he would
+show me none.  He was a tall powerful man, and in my then condition he
+could have done what he pleased with me.  Friday was my model; the red
+man was Robinson Crusoe.  I kneeled at his feet, and touched the ground
+with my forehead.  He did not seem the least elated by my humility: there
+was not a spark of vanity in him.  Indeed, except for its hideousness and
+brutality, his face was without expression.
+
+I now proceeded to make a drawing, with my finger, in the sand, of a mule
+in the water; while I imitated by pantomime the struggles of the
+drowning.  I then pointed to myself; and, using my arms as in swimming,
+shook my head and my finger to signify that I could not swim.  I worked
+an imaginary paddle, and made him understand that I wanted him to paddle
+me across the river.  Still he remained unmoved; till finally I used one
+argument which interested him more than all the rest of my story.  I
+untied a part of the shirt round one foot and showed him three gold
+studs.  These I took out and gave to him.  I also made a drawing of a
+rifle in the sand, and signified that he would get the like if he went
+with me to my camp.  Whereupon he turned in the direction I was going;
+and, though unbidden by a look, I did not hesitate to follow.
+
+I thought I must have dropped before we reached his village.  This was an
+osier-bed at the water’s side, where the whole river rushed through a
+rocky gorge not more than fifty to sixty yards broad.  There were perhaps
+nearly a hundred Indians here, two-thirds of whom were women and
+children.  Their habitations were formed by interlacing the tops of the
+osiers.  Dogs’ skins spread upon the ground and numerous salmon spears
+were their only furniture.  In a few minutes my arrival created a
+prodigious commotion.  The whole population turned out to stare at me.
+The children ran into the bushes to hide.  But feminine curiosity
+conquered feminine timidity.  Although I was in the plight of the forlorn
+Odysseus after his desperate swim, I had no ‘blooming foliage’ to wind
+_περὶ χροῒ μήδεα φωτός_.  Unlike the Phæacian maidens, however, the tawny
+nymphs were all as brave as Princess Nausicaa herself.  They stared, and
+pointed, and buzzed, and giggled, and even touched my skin with the tips
+of their fingers—to see, I suppose, if the white would come off.
+
+But ravenous hunger turned up its nose at flirtation.  The fillets of
+drying salmon suspended from every bough were a million times more
+seductive than the dark Naiads who had dressed them.  Slice after slice I
+tore down and devoured, as though my maw were as compendious as Jack the
+Giant Killer’s.  This so astonished and delighted the young women that
+they kept supplying me,—with the expectation, perhaps, that sooner or
+later I must share the giant’s fate.
+
+While this was going on, a conference was being held; and I had the
+satisfaction of seeing some men pull up a lot of dead rushes, dexterously
+tie them into bundles, and truss these together by means of spears.  They
+had no canoes, for the very children were amphibious, living, so it
+seemed, as much in the water as out of it.  When the raft was completed,
+I was invited to embark.  My original friend, who had twisted a tow-rope,
+took this between his teeth, and led the way.  Others swam behind and
+beside me to push and to pull.  The force of the water was terrific; but
+they seemed to care no more for that than fish.  My weight sunk the rush
+bundles a good bit below the surface; and to try my nerves, my crew every
+now and then with a wild yell dived simultaneously, dragging the raft and
+me under water.  But I sat tight; and with genuine friendliness they
+landed me safely on the desired shore.
+
+It was quite dark before we set forth.  Robinson Crusoe walked on as if
+he knew exactly where my camp was.  Probably the whole catastrophe had by
+this time been bruited for miles above and below the spot.  Five other
+stalwart young fellows kept us company, each with salmon spear in hand.
+The walk seemed interminable; but I had shipped a goodly cargo of latent
+energy.
+
+When I got home, instead of Samson, I found the camp occupied by half a
+dozen Indians.  They were squatted round a fire, smoking.  Each one, so
+it seemed, had appropriated some article of our goods.  Our blankets were
+over their shoulders.  One had William’s long rifle in his lap.  Another
+was sitting upon mine.  A few words were exchanged with the newcomers,
+who seated themselves beside their friends; but no more notice was taken
+of me than of the mules which were eating rushes close to us.  How was I,
+single-handed, to regain possession?  That was the burning question.  A
+diplomatic course commanded itself as the only possible one.  There were
+six men who expected rewards, but the wherewithal was held in seisin by
+other six.  The fight, if there were one, should be between the two
+parties.  I would hope to prove, that when thieves fall out honest men
+come by their own.
+
+There is one adage whose truth I needed no further proof of.  Its first
+line apostrophises the ‘Gods and little fishes.’  My chief need was for
+the garment which completes the rhyme.  Indians, having no use for
+corduroy small clothes, I speedily donned mine.  Next I quietly but
+quickly snatched up William’s rifle, and presented it to Robinson Crusoe,
+patting him on the back as if with honours of knighthood.  The
+dispossessed was not well pleased, but Sir Robinson was; and, to all
+appearances, he was a man of leading, if of darkness.  While words were
+passing between the two, I sauntered round to the gentleman who sat
+cross-legged upon my weapon.  He was as heedless of me as I, outwardly,
+of him.  When well within reach, mindful that ‘_de l’audace_’ is no bad
+motto, in love and war, I suddenly placed my foot upon his chest,
+tightened the extensor muscle of my leg, and sent him heels over head.
+In an instant the rifle was mine, and both barrels cocked.  After
+yesterday’s immersion it might not have gone off, but the offended
+Indian, though furious, doubtless inferred from the histrionic attitude
+which I at once struck, that I felt confident it would.  With my rifle in
+hand, with my suite looking to me to transfer the plunder to them, my
+position was now secure.  I put on a shirt—the only one left to me, by
+the way—my shoes and stockings, and my shooting coat; and picking out
+William’s effects, divided these, with his ammunition, his carpet-bag,
+and his blankets, amongst my original friends.  I was beginning to gather
+my own things together, when Samson, leading my horse, unexpectedly rode
+into the midst of us.  The night was far advanced.  The Indians took
+their leave; and added to the obligation by bequeathing us a large fresh
+salmon, which served us for many a day to come.
+
+As a postscript I may add that I found poor Mary’s address on one of her
+letters, and faithfully kept my promise as soon as I reached pen and ink.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+WHAT remains to be told will not take long.  Hardships naturally
+increased as the means of bearing them diminished.  I have said the
+salmon held out for many days.  We cut it in strips, and dried it as well
+as we could; but the flies and maggots robbed us of a large portion of
+it.  At length we were reduced to two small hams; nothing else except a
+little tea.  Guessing the distance we had yet to go, and taking into
+account our slow rate of travelling, I calculated the number of days
+which, with the greatest economy, these could be made to last.  Allowing
+only one meal a day, and that of the scantiest, I scored the hams as a
+cook scores a leg of roast pork, determined under no circumstances to
+exceed the daily ration.
+
+No little discipline was requisite to adhere to this resolution.  Samson
+broke down under the exposure and privation; superadded dysentery
+rendered him all but helpless, and even affected his mind.  The whole
+labour of the camp then devolved on me.  I never roused him in the
+morning till the mules were packed—with all but his blanket and the
+pannikin for his tea—and until I had saddled his horse for him.  Not till
+we halted at night did we get our ration of ham.  This he ate, or rather
+bolted, raw, like a wild beast.  My share I never touched till after I
+lay down to sleep.  And so tired have I been, that once or twice I woke
+in the morning with my hand at my mouth, the unswallowed morsel between
+my teeth.  For three weeks we went on in this way, never exchanging a
+word.  I cannot say how I might have behaved had Fred been in Samson’s
+place.  I hope I should have been at least humane.  But I was labouring
+for my life, and was not over tender-hearted.
+
+Certainly there was enough to try the patience of a better man.  Take an
+instance.  Unable one morning to find my own horse, I saddled his and
+started him off, so as not to waste time, with his spare animal and the
+three mules.  It so happened that our line of march was rather tortuous,
+owing to some hills we had to round.  Still, as there were high mountains
+in the distance which we were making for, it seemed impossible that
+anyone could miss his way.  It was twenty minutes, perhaps, before I
+found my horse; this would give him about a mile or more start of me.  I
+hurried on, but failed to overtake him.  At the end of an hour I rode to
+the top of a hill which commanded a view of the course he should have
+taken.  Not a moving speck was to be seen.  I knew then that he had gone
+astray.  But in which direction?
+
+My heart sank within me.  The provisions and blankets were with him.  I
+do not think that at any point of my journey I had ever felt fear—panic
+that is—till now.  Starvation stared me in the face.  My wits refused to
+suggest a line of action.  I was stunned.  I felt then what I have often
+felt since, what I still feel, that it is possible to wrestle
+successfully with every difficulty that man has overcome, but not with
+that supreme difficulty—man’s stupidity.  It did not then occur to me to
+give a name to the impatience that seeks to gather grapes of thorns or
+figs of thistles.
+
+I turned back, retraced my steps till I came to the track of the mules.
+Luckily the ground retained the footprints, though sometimes these would
+be lost for a hundred yards or so.  Just as I anticipated—Samson had
+wound round the base of the very first hill he came to; then, instead of
+correcting the deviation, and steering for the mountains, had simply
+followed his nose, and was now travelling due east,—in other words, was
+going back over our track of the day before.  It was past noon when I
+overtook him, so that a precious day’s labour was lost.
+
+I said little, but that little was a sentence of death.
+
+‘After to-day,’ I began, ‘we will travel separately.’
+
+At first he seemed hardly to take in my meaning.  I explained it.
+
+‘As well as I can make out, before we get to the Dalles, where we ought
+to find the American outposts, we have only about 150 miles to go.  This
+should not take more than eight or nine days.  I can do it in a week
+alone, but not with you.  I have come to the conclusion that with you I
+may not be able to do it at all.  We have still those mountains’—pointing
+to the Blue Mountain range in the distance—‘to cross.  They are covered
+with snow, as you see.  We may find them troublesome.  In any case our
+food will only last eight or nine days more, even at the present rate.
+You shall have the largest half of what is left, for you require more
+than I do.  But I cannot, and will not, sacrifice my life for your sake.
+I have made up my mind to leave you.’
+
+It must always be a terrible thing for a judge to pass the sentence of
+death.  But then he is fulfilling a duty, merely carrying out a law which
+is not of his making.  Moreover, he has no option—the responsibility
+rests with the jury; last of all, the sufferer is a criminal.  Between
+the judge’s case and mine there was no analogy.  My act was a purely
+selfish one—justifiable I still think, though certainly not magnanimous.
+I was quite aware of this at the time, but a starving man is not burdened
+with generosity.
+
+I dismounted, and, without unsaddling the mules, took off their packs,
+now reduced to a few pounds, which was all the wretched, raw-backed, and
+half-dead, animals could stagger under; and, putting my blanket, the
+remains of a ham, and a little packet of tea—some eight or ten
+tea-spoonfuls—on one mule, I again prepared to mount my horse and depart.
+
+I took, as it were, a sneaking glance at Samson.  He was sitting upon the
+ground, with his face between his knees, sobbing.
+
+At three-and-twenty the heart of a man, or of a woman—if either has any,
+which, of course, may be doubtful—is apt to play the dynamite with his or
+her resolves.  Water-drops have ever been formidable weapons of the
+latter, as we all know; and, not being so accustomed to them then as I
+have become since, the sight of the poor devil’s abject woe and
+destitution, the thought that illness and suffering were the causes, the
+secret whisper that my act was a cowardly one, forced me to follow the
+lines of least resistance, and submit to the decrees of destiny.
+
+One more page from my ‘Ride,’ and the reader will, I think, have a fair
+conception of its general character.  For the last two hours the ascent
+of the Blue Mountains had been very steep.  We were in a thick pine
+forest.  There was a track—probably made by Indians.  Near the summit we
+found a spring of beautiful water.  Here we halted for the night.  It was
+a snug spot.  But, alas! there was nothing for the animals to eat except
+pine needles.  We lighted our fire against the great up-torn roots of a
+fallen tree; and, though it was freezing hard, we piled on such masses of
+dead boughs that the huge blaze seemed to warm the surrounding
+atmosphere.
+
+I must here give the words of my journal, for one exclamation in it has a
+sort of schoolboy ring that recalls the buoyancy of youthful spirits, the
+spirits indeed to which in early life we owe our enterprise and
+perseverance:
+
+‘As I was dozing off, a pack of hungry wolves that had scented us out set
+up the most infernal chorus ever heard.  In vain I pulled the frozen
+buffalo-robe over my head, and tried to get to sleep.  The demons drew
+nearer and nearer, howling, snarling, fighting, moaning, and making a row
+in the perfect stillness which reigned around, as if hell itself were
+loose.  For some time I bore it with patience.  At length, jumping up, I
+yelled in a voice that made the valley ring: You devils! will you be
+quiet?  The appeal was immediately answered by silence; but hearing them
+tuning up for a second concert, I threw some wood on the blazing fire and
+once more retired to my lair.  For a few minutes I lay awake to admire a
+brilliant Aurora Borealis shooting out its streams of electric light.
+Then, turning over on my side, I never moved again till dawn.’
+
+The first objects that caught my eye were the animals.  They were huddled
+together within a couple of yards of where we lay.  It was a horrible
+sight.  Two out of the three mules, and Samson’s horse, had been attacked
+by the wolves.  The flanks of the horse were terribly torn, and the
+entrails of both the mules were partially hanging out.  Though all three
+were still standing with their backs arched, they were rapidly dying from
+loss of blood.  My dear little ‘Strawberry’—as we called him to match
+William’s ‘Cream’ and my mare were both intact.
+
+A few days after this, Samson’s remaining horse gave out.  I had to
+surrender what remained of my poor beast in order to get my companion
+through.  The last fifty miles of the journey I performed on foot;
+sometimes carrying my rifle to relieve the staggering little mule of a
+few pounds extra weight.  At long last the Dalles hove in sight.  And our
+cry, ‘The tents! the tents!’ echoed the joyous ‘Thalassa! Thalassa!’ of
+the weary Greeks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+‘WHERE is the tent of the commanding officer?’ I asked of the first
+soldier I came across.
+
+He pointed to one on the hillside.  ‘Ags for Major Dooker,’ was the
+Dutch-accented answer.
+
+Bidding Samson stay where he was, I made my way as directed.  A
+middle-aged officer in undress uniform was sitting on an empty
+packing-case in front of his tent, whittling a piece of its wood.
+
+‘Pray sir,’ said I in my best Louis Quatorze manner, ‘have I the pleasure
+of speaking to Major Dooker?’
+
+‘Tucker, sir.  And who the devil are you?’
+
+Let me describe what the Major saw: A man wasted by starvation to skin
+and bone, blackened, almost, by months of exposure to scorching suns;
+clad in the shreds of what had once been a shirt, torn by every kind of
+convict labour, stained by mud and the sweat and sores of mules; the rags
+of a shooting coat to match; no head covering; hands festering with
+sores, and which for weeks had not touched water—if they could avoid it.
+Such an object, in short, as the genius of a Phil May could alone have
+depicted as the most repulsive object he could imagine.
+
+‘Who the devil are you?’
+
+‘An English gentleman, sir, travelling for pleasure.’
+
+He smiled.  ‘You look more like a wild beast.’
+
+‘I am quite tame, sir, I assure you—could even eat out of your hand if I
+had a chance.’
+
+‘Is your name Coke?’
+
+‘Yes,’ was my amazed reply.
+
+‘Then come with me—I will show you something that may surprise you.’
+
+I followed him to a neighbouring tent.  He drew aside the flap of it, and
+there on his blanket lay Fred Calthorpe, snoring in perfect bliss.
+
+Our greetings were less restrained than our parting had been.  We were
+truly glad to meet again.  He had arrived just two days before me,
+although he had been at Salt Lake City.  But he had been able there to
+refit, had obtained ample supplies and fresh animals.  Curiously enough,
+his Nelson—the French-Canadian—had also been drowned in crossing the
+Snake River.  His place, however, had been filled by another man, and
+Jacob had turned out a treasure.  The good fellow greeted me warmly.  And
+it was no slight compensation for bygone troubles to be assured by him
+that our separation had led to the final triumphal success.
+
+Fred and I now shared the same tent.  To show what habit will do, it was
+many days before I could accustom myself to sleep under cover of a tent
+even, and in preference slept, as I had done for five months, under the
+stars.  The officers liberally furnished us with clothing.  But their
+excessive hospitality more nearly proved fatal to me than any peril I had
+met with.  One’s stomach had quite lost its discretion.  And forgetting
+that
+
+    Famished people must be slowly nursed,
+    And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst,
+
+one never knew when to leave off eating.  For a few days I was seriously
+ill.
+
+An absurd incident occurred to me here which might have had an unpleasant
+ending.  Every evening, after dinner in the mess tent, we played whist.
+One night, quite by accident, Fred and I happened to be partners.  The
+Major and another officer made up the four.  The stakes were rather high.
+We two had had an extraordinary run of luck.  The Major’s temper had been
+smouldering for some time.  Presently the deal fell to me; and as bad
+luck would have it, I dealt myself a handful of trumps, and—all four
+honours.  As the last of these was played, the now blazing Major dashed
+his cards on the table, and there and then called me out.  The cooler
+heads of two or three of the others, with whom Fred had had time to make
+friends, to say nothing of the usual roar of laughter with which he
+himself heard the challenge, brought the matter to a peaceful issue.  The
+following day one of the officers brought me a graceful apology.
+
+As may readily be supposed, we had no hankering for further travels such
+as we had gone through.  San Francisco was our destination; but though as
+unknown to us as Charles Lamb’s ‘Stranger,’ we ‘damned’ the overland
+route ‘at a venture’; and settled, as there was no alternative, to go in
+a trading ship to the Sandwich Islands thence, by the same means, to
+California.
+
+On October 20 we procured a canoe large enough for seven or eight
+persons; and embarking with our light baggage, Fred, Samson, and I, took
+leave of the Dalles.  For some miles the great river, the Columbia, runs
+through the Cascade Mountains, and is confined, as heretofore, in a
+channel of basaltic rock.  Further down it widens, and is ornamented by
+groups of small wooded islands.  On one of these we landed to rest our
+Indians and feed.  Towards evening we again put ashore, at an Indian
+village, where we camped for the night.  The scenery here is magnificent.
+It reminded me a little of the Danube below Linz, or of the finest parts
+of the Elbe in Saxon Switzerland.  But this is to compare the full-length
+portrait with the miniature.  It is the grandeur of the scale of the best
+of the American scenery that so strikes the European.  Variety, however,
+has its charms; and before one has travelled fifteen hundred miles on the
+same river—as one may easily do in America—one begins to sigh for the
+Rhine, or even for a trip from London to Greenwich, with a white-bait
+dinner at the end of it.
+
+The day after, we descended the Cascades.  They are the beginning of an
+immense fall in the level, and form a succession of rapids nearly two
+miles long.  The excitement of this passage is rather too great for
+pleasure.  It is like being run away with by a ‘motor’ down a steep hill.
+The bow of the canoe is often several feet below the stern, as if about
+to take a ‘header.’  The water, in glassy ridges and dark furrows, rushes
+headlong, and dashes itself madly against the reefs which crop up
+everywhere.  There is no time, one thinks, to choose a course, even if
+steerage, which seems absurd, were possible.  One is hurled along at
+railway speed.  The upreared rock, that a moment ago seemed a hundred
+yards off, is now under the very bow of the canoe.  One clenches one’s
+teeth, holds one’s breath, one’s hour is surely come.  But no—a shout
+from the Indians, a magic stroke of the paddle in the bow, another in the
+stern, and the dreaded crag is far above out heads, far, far behind; and,
+for the moment, we are gliding on—undrowned.
+
+At the lower end of the rapids (our Indians refusing to go further), we
+had to debark.  A settler here was putting up a zinc house for a store.
+Two others, with an officer of the Mounted Rifles—the regiment we had
+left at the Dalles—were staying with him.  They welcomed our arrival, and
+insisted on our drinking half a dozen of poisonous stuff they called
+champagne.  There were no chairs or table in the ‘house,’ nor as yet any
+floor; and only the beginning of a roof.  We sat on the ground, so that I
+was able surreptitiously to make libations with my share, to the earth.
+
+According to my journal: ‘In a short time the party began to be a noisy
+one.  Healths were drunk, toasts proposed, compliments to our respective
+nationalities paid in the most flattering terms.  The Anglo-Saxon race
+were destined to conquer the globe.  The English were the greatest nation
+under the sun—that is to say, they had been.  America, of course, would
+take the lead in time to come.  We disputed this.  The Americans were
+certain of it, in fact this was already an accomplished fact.  The big
+officer—a genuine “heavy”—wanted to know where the man was that would
+give him the lie!  Wasn’t the Mounted Rifles the crack regiment of the
+United States army?  And wasn’t the United States army the finest army in
+the universe?  Who that knew anything of history would compare the
+Peninsular Campaign to the war in Mexico?  Talk of Waterloo—Britishers
+were mighty fond of swaggering about Waterloo!  Let ’em look at
+Chepultapec.  As for Wellington, he couldn’t shine nohow with General
+Scott, nor old Zack neither!’
+
+Then, _we_ wished for a war, just to let them see what our crack cavalry
+regiments could do.  Mounted Rifles forsooth!  Mounted costermongers!
+whose trade it was to sell ‘nutmegs made of wood, and clocks that
+wouldn’t figure.’  Then some pretty forcible profanity was vented, fists
+were shaken, and the zinc walls were struck, till they resounded like the
+threatened thunder of artillery.
+
+But Fred’s merry laughter diverted the tragic end.  It was agreed that
+there had been too much tall talk.  Britishers and Americans were not
+such fools as to quarrel.  Let everybody drink everybody else’s health.
+A gentleman in the corner (he needed the support of both walls) thought
+it wasn’t good to ‘liquor up’ too much on an empty stomach; he put it to
+the house that we should have supper.  The motion was carried _nem.
+con._, and a Dutch cheese was produced with much _éclat_.  Samson coupled
+the ideas of Dutch cheeses and Yankee hospitality.  This revived the
+flagging spirit of emulation.  On one side, it was thought that British
+manners were susceptible of amendment.  Confusion was then respectively
+drunk to Yankee hospitality, English manners, and—this was an addition of
+Fred’s—to Dutch cheeses.  After which, to change the subject, a song was
+called for, and a gentleman who shall be nameless, for there was a little
+mischief in the choice, sang ‘Rule Britannia.’  Not being encored, the
+singer drank to the flag that had braved the battle and the breeze for
+nearly ninety years.  ‘Here’s to Uncle Sam, and his stars and stripes.’
+The mounted officer rose to his legs (with difficulty) and declared ‘that
+he could not, and would not, hear his country insulted any longer.  He
+begged to challenge the “crowd.”  He regretted the necessity, but his
+feelings had been wounded, and he could not—no, he positively could not
+stand it.’  A slight push from Samson proved the fact—the speaker fell,
+to rise no more.  The rest of the company soon followed his example, and
+shortly afterwards there was no sound but that of the adjacent rapids.
+
+Early next morning the settler’s boat came up, and took us a mile down
+the river, where we found a larger one to convey us to Fort Vancouver.
+The crew were a Maltese sailor and a man who had been in the United
+States army.  Each had his private opinions as to her management.
+Naturally, the Maltese should have been captain, but the soldier was both
+supercargo and part owner, and though it was blowing hard and the sails
+were fully large, the foreigner, who was but a poor little creature, had
+to obey orders.
+
+As the river widened and grew rougher, we were wetted from stem to stern
+at every plunge; and when it became evident that the soldier could not
+handle the sails if the Maltese was kept at the helm, the heavy rifleman
+who was on board, declaring that he knew the river, took upon himself to
+steer us.  In a few minutes the boat was nearly swamped.  The Maltese
+prayed and blasphemed in language which no one understood.  The oaths of
+the soldier were intelligible enough.  The ‘heavy,’ now alarmed,
+nervously asked what had better be done.  My advice was to grease the
+bowsprit, let go the mast, and splice the main brace.  ‘In another minute
+or two,’ I added, ‘you’ll steer us all to the bottom.’
+
+Fred, who thought it no time for joking, called the rifleman a ‘damned
+fool,’ and authoritatively bade him give up the tiller; saying that I had
+been in Her Majesty’s Navy, and perhaps knew a little more about boats
+than he did.  To this the other replied that ‘he didn’t want anyone to
+learn him; he reckon’d he’d been raised to boating as well as the next
+man, and he’d be derned if he was going to trust his life to anybody!’
+Samson, thinking no doubt of his own, took his pipe out of his mouth, and
+towering over the steersman, flung him like a child on one side.  In an
+instant I was in his place.
+
+It was a minute or two before the boat had way enough to answer the helm.
+By that time we were within a dozen yards of a reef.  Having noticed,
+however, that the little craft was quick in her stays, I kept her full
+till the last, put the helm down, and round she spun in a moment.  Before
+I could thank my stars, the pintle, or hook on which the rudder hangs,
+broke off.  The tiller was knocked out of my hand, and the boat’s head
+flew into the wind.  ‘Out with the sweeps,’ I shouted.  But the sweeps
+were under the gear.  All was confusion and panic.  The two men cursed in
+the names of their respective saints.  The ‘heavy’ whined, ‘I told you
+how it w’d be.’  Samson struggled valiantly to get at an oar, while Fred,
+setting the example, begged all hands to be calm, and be ready to fend
+the stern off the rocks with a boathook.  As we drifted into the surf I
+was wondering how many bumps she would stand before she went to pieces.
+Happily the water shallowed, and the men, by jumping overboard, managed
+to drag the boat through the breakers under the lee of the point.  We
+afterwards drew her up on to the beach, kindled a fire, got out some
+provisions, and stayed till the storm was over.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+WHAT was then called Fort Vancouver was a station of the Hudson’s Bay
+Company.  We took up our quarters here till one of the company’s
+vessels—the ‘Mary Dare,’ a brig of 120 tons, was ready to sail for the
+Sandwich Islands.  This was about the most uncomfortable trip I ever
+made.  A sailing merchant brig of 120 tons, deeply laden, is not exactly
+a pleasure yacht; and 2,000 miles is a long voyage.  For ten days we lay
+at anchor at the mouth of the Columbia, detained by westerly gales.  A
+week after we put to sea, all our fresh provisions were consumed, and we
+had to live on our cargo—dried salmon.  We three and the captain more
+than filled the little hole of a cabin.  There wasn’t even a hammock, and
+we had to sleep on the deck, or on the lockers.  The fleas, the
+cockroaches, and the rats, romped over and under one all night.  Not
+counting the time it took to go down the river, or the ten days we were
+kept at its mouth, we were just six weeks at sea before we reached
+Woahoo, on Christmas Day.
+
+How beautiful the islands looked as we passed between them, with a fair
+wind and studding sails set alow and aloft.  Their tropical charms seemed
+more glowing, the water bluer, the palm trees statelier, the vegetation
+more libertine than ever.  On the south the land rises gradually from the
+shore to a range of lofty mountains.  Immediately behind Honolulu—the
+capital—a valley with a road winding up it leads to the north side of the
+island.  This valley is, or was then, richly cultivated, principally with
+_taro_, a large root not unlike the yam.  Here and there native huts were
+dotted about, with gardens full of flowers, and abundance of tropical
+fruit.  Higher up, where it becomes too steep for cultivation, growth of
+all kind is rampant.  Acacias, oranges, maples, bread-fruit, and
+sandal-wood trees, rear their heads above the tangled ever-greens.  The
+high peaks, constantly in the clouds, arrest the moisture of the ocean
+atmosphere, and countless rills pour down the mountain sides, clothing
+everything in perpetual verdure.  The climate is one of the least
+changeable in the world; the sea breeze blows day and night, and
+throughout the year the day temperature does not vary more than five or
+six degrees, the average being about eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit in
+the shade.  In 1850 the town of Honolulu was little else than a native
+village of grass and mat huts.  Two or three merchants had good houses.
+In one of these Fred and Samson were domiciled; there was no such thing
+as a hotel.  I was the guest of General Miller, the Consul-General.  What
+changes may have taken place since the above date I have no means of
+knowing.  So far as the natives go, the change will assuredly have been
+for the worse; for the aborigines, in all parts of the world, lose their
+primitive simplicity and soon acquire the worst vices of civilisation.
+
+Even King Tamehameha III. was not innocent of one of them.  General
+Miller offered to present us at court, but he had to give several days’
+notice in order that his Majesty might be sufficiently sober to receive
+us.  A negro tailor from the United States fitted us out with suits of
+black, and on the appointed day we put ourselves under the shade of the
+old General’s cocked hat, and marched in a body to the palace.  A native
+band, in which a big drum had the leading part, received us with ‘God
+save the Queen’—whether in honour of King Tamy, or of his visitors, was
+not divulged.  We were first introduced to a number of chiefs in European
+uniforms—except as to their feet, which were mostly bootless.  Their
+names sounded like those of the state officers in Mr. Gilbert’s ‘Mikado.’
+I find in my journal one entered as Tovey-tovey, another as Kanakala.  We
+were then conducted to the presence chamber by the Foreign Minister, Mr.
+Wiley, a very pronounced Scotch gentleman with a star of the first
+magnitude on his breast.  The King was dressed as an English admiral.
+The Queen, whose ample undulations also reminded one of the high seas,
+was on his right; while in perfect gradation on her right again were four
+princesses in short frocks and long trousers, with plaited tails tied
+with blue ribbon, like the Miss Kenwigs.  A little side dispute arose
+between the stiff old General and the Foreign Minister as to whose right
+it was to present us.  The Consul carried the day; but the Scot, not to
+be beaten, informed Tamehameha, in a long prefatory oration, of the
+object of the ceremony.  Taking one of us by the hand (I thought the
+peppery old General would have thrust him aside), Mr. Wiley told the King
+that it was seldom the Sandwich Islands were ‘veesited’ by strangers of
+such ‘desteenction’—that the Duke of this (referring to Fred’s
+relations), and Lord the other, were the greatest noblemen in the world;
+then, with much solemnity, quoted a long speech from Shakespeare, and
+handed us over to his rival.
+
+His Majesty, who did not understand a word of English, or Scotch, looked
+grave and held tight to the arm of the throne; for the truth is, that
+although he had relinquished his bottle for the hour, he had brought its
+contents with him.  My salaam was soon made; but as I retired backwards I
+had the misfortune to set my heel on the toes of a black-and-tan terrier,
+a privileged pet of the General’s.  The shriek of the animal and the loss
+of my equilibrium nearly precipitated me into the arms of a trousered
+princess; but the amiable young lady only laughed.  Thus ended my glimpse
+of the Hawaian Court.  Mr. Wiley afterwards remarked to me: ‘We do things
+in a humble way, ye’ll obsairve; but royalty is royalty all over the
+world, and His Majesty Tamehameha is as much Keng of his ain domeenions
+as Victoria is Queen of Breetain.’  The relativity of greatness was not
+to be denied.
+
+The men—Kanakas, as they are called—are fine stalwart fellows above our
+average height.  The only clothing they then wore was the _maro_, a cloth
+made by themselves of the acacia bark.  This they pass between the legs,
+and once or twice round the loins.  The _Wyheenes_—women—formerly wore
+nothing but a short petticoat or kilt of the same material.  By
+persuasion of the missionaries they have exchanged this simple garment
+for a chemise of printed calico, with the waist immediately under the
+arms so as to conceal the contour of the figure.  Other clothing have
+they none.
+
+Are they the more chaste?  Are they the less seductive?  Hear what M.
+Anatole France says in his apostrophe to the sex: ‘Pour faire de vous la
+terrible merveille que vous êtes aujourd’hui, pour devenir la cause
+indifférente et souveraine des sacrifices et des crimes, il vous a fallu
+deux choses: la civilisation qui vous donna des voiles, et la religion
+qui vous donna des scrupules.’  The translation of which is (please take
+note of it, my dear young ladies with ‘les épaules qui ne finissent
+pas’):
+
+    ‘Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
+    Are sweeter.’
+
+Be this as it may, these chocolate-skinned beauties, with their small and
+regular features, their rosy lips, their perfect teeth—of which they take
+great care—their luxurious silky tresses, their pretty little hands and
+naked feet, and their exquisite forms, would match the matchless
+Cleopatra.
+
+Through the kindness of Fred’s host, the principal merchant in the
+island, we were offered an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the
+_élite_ of the Honolulu nymphs.  Mr. S. invited us to what is called a
+_Loohou_ feast got up by him for their entertainment.  The head of one of
+the most picturesque valleys in Woahoo was selected for the celebration
+of this ancient festival.  Mounted on horses with which Mr. S. had
+furnished us, we repaired in a party to the appointed spot.  It was early
+in the afternoon when we reached it; none of the guests had arrived,
+excepting a few Kanakas, who were engaged in thatching an old shed as
+shelter from the sun, and strewing the ground with a thick carpet of
+palm-leaves.  Ere long, a cavalcade of between thirty and forty
+amazons—they all rode astride—came racing up the valley at full speed,
+their merry shouts proclaiming their approach.  Gaudy strips of _maro_
+were loosely folded around their legs for skirts.  Their pretty little
+straw hats trimmed with ribbons, or their uncovered heads with their long
+hair streaming in the wind, confined only by a wreath of fresh orange
+flowers, added to their irresistible charm.  Certainly, the bravest
+soldiers could not have withstood their charge.  No men, however, were
+admitted, save those who had been expressly invited; but each lady of
+importance was given a _carte blanche_ to bring as many of her own sex as
+she pleased, provided they were both pretty and respectable.
+
+As they rode up, we cavaliers, with becoming gallantry, offered our
+assistance while they dismounted.  Smitten through and through by the
+bright eyes of one little houri who possessed far more than her share of
+the first requirement, and, taking the second for granted, I courteously
+prepared to aid her to alight; when, to my discomfiture, instead of a
+gracious acknowledgment of my services, she gave me a sharp cut with her
+whip.  As, however, she laughed merrily at my wry faces, I accepted the
+act as a scratch of the kitten’s claws; at least, it was no sign of
+indifference, and giving myself the benefit of the doubt, lifted her from
+her saddle without further chastisement, except a coquettish smile that
+wounded, alas! more than it healed.
+
+The feast was thus prepared: poultry, sucking-pigs, and puppies—the last,
+after being scalded and scraped, were stuffed with vegetables and spices,
+rolled in plantain leaves, and placed in the ground upon stones already
+heated.  More stones were then laid over them, and fires lighted on the
+top of all.  While the cooking was in progress, the Kanakas ground _taro_
+roots for the paste called ‘poe’; the girls danced and sang.  The songs
+were devoid of melody, being musical recitations of imaginary love
+adventures, accompanied by swayings of the body and occasional choral
+interruptions, all becoming more and more excited as the story or song
+approached its natural climax.  Sometimes this was varied by a solitary
+dancer starting from the circle, and performing the wildest bacchanalian
+antics, to the vocal incitement of the rest.  This only ended with
+physical exhaustion, or collapse from feminine hysteria.
+
+The food was excellent; the stuffed puppy was a dish for an epicure.
+Though knives and forks were unknown, and each helped herself from the
+plantain leaf, one had not the least objection to do likewise, for the
+most scrupulous cleanliness is one of the many merits of these
+fascinating creatures.  Before every dip into the leaf, the dainty little
+fingers were plunged into bowls of fresh water provided for the purpose.
+Delicious fruit followed the substantial fare; a small glass of _kava_—a
+juice extracted from a root of the pepper tribe—was then served to all
+alike.  Having watched the process of preparing the beverage, I am unable
+to speak as to its flavour.  The making of it is remarkable.  A number of
+women sit on the ground, chew the root, and spit its juice into a bowl.
+The liquor is kept till it ferments, after which it becomes highly
+intoxicating.  I regret to say that its potency was soon manifested on
+this occasion.  No sooner did the poison set their wild blood tingling,
+than a free fight began for the remaining gourds.  Such a scratching,
+pulling of hair, clawing, kicking, and crying, were never seen.  Only by
+main force did we succeed in restoring peace.  It is but fair to state
+that, except on the celebration of one or two solemn and sacred rites
+such as that of the _Loohou_, these island Thyades never touch fermented
+liquors.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+IT was an easier task when all was over to set the little Amazons on
+their horses than to keep them there, for by the time we had perched one
+on her saddle, or pad rather, and adjusted her with the greatest nicety,
+another whom we had just left would lose her balance and fall with a
+scream to the ground.  It was almost as difficult as packing mules on the
+prairie.  For my part it must be confessed that I left the completion of
+the job to others.  Curious and entertaining as the feast was, my whole
+attention was centred and absorbed in Arakeeta, which that artful little
+enchantress had the gift to know, and lashed me accordingly with her eyes
+more cruelly than she had done with her whip.  I had got so far, you see,
+as to learn her name, the first instalment of an intimacy which my
+demolished heart was staked on perfecting.  I noticed that she refused
+the _kava_ with real or affected repugnance; and when the passage of
+arms, and legs, began, she slipped away, caught her animal, and with a
+parting laugh at me, started off for home.  There was not the faintest
+shadow of encouragement in her saucy looks to follow her.  Still, she was
+a year older than Juliet, who was nearly fourteen; so, who could say what
+those looks might veil?  Besides:
+
+             Das Naturell der Frauen
+    Ist so nah mit Kunst verwandt,
+
+that one might easily be mistaken.  Anyhow, flight provoked pursuit; I
+jumped on to my horse, and raced along the plain like mad.  She saw me
+coming, and flogged the more, but being the better mounted of the two, by
+degrees I overhauled her.  As I ranged alongside, neither slackened
+speed; and reaching out to catch her bridle, my knee hooked under the
+hollow of hers, twisted her clean off her pad, and in a moment she lay
+senseless on the ground.  I flung myself from my horse, and laid her head
+upon my lap.  Good God! had I broken her neck!  She did not stir; her
+eyes were closed, but she breathed, and her heart beat quickly.  I was
+wild with terror and remorse.  I looked back for aid, but the others had
+not started; we were still a mile or more from Honolulu.  I knew not what
+to do.  I kissed her forehead, I called her by her name.  But she lay
+like a child asleep.  Presently her dazed eyes opened and stared with
+wonderment, and then she smiled.  The tears, I think, were on my cheeks,
+and seeing them, she put her arms around my neck and—forgave me.
+
+She had fallen on her head and had been stunned.  I caught the horses
+while she sat still, and we walked them slowly home.  When we got within
+sight of her hut on the outskirts of the town, she would not let me go
+further.  There was sadness in her look when we parted.  I made her
+understand (I had picked up two or three words) that I would return to
+see her.  She at once shook her head with an expression of something akin
+to fear.  I too felt sorrowful, and worse than sorrowful, jealous.
+
+When the night fell I sought her hut.  It was one of the better kind,
+built like others mainly with matting; no doors or windows, but with an
+extensive verandah which protected the inner part from rain and sun.  Now
+and again I caught glimpses of Arakeeta’s fairy form flitting in, or
+obscuring, the lamplight.  I could see two other women and two men.  Who
+and what were they?  Was one of those dark forms an Othello, ready to
+smother his Desdemona?  Or were either of them a Valentine between my
+Marguerite and me?  Though there was no moon, I dared not venture within
+the lamp’s rays, for her sake; for my own, I was reckless now—I would
+have thanked either of them to brain me with his hoe.  But Arakeeta came
+not.
+
+In the day-time I roamed about the district, about the _taro_ fields, in
+case she might be working there.  Every evening before sundown, many of
+the women and some of the well-to-do men, and a few whites, used to ride
+on the plain that stretches along the shore between the fringe of palm
+groves and the mountain spurs.  I had seen Arakeeta amongst them before
+the _Loohou_ feast.  She had given this up now, and why?  Night after
+night I hovered about the hut.  When she was in the verandah I whispered
+her name.  She started and peered into the dark, hesitated, then fled.
+Again the same thing happened.  She had heard me, she knew that I was
+there, but she came not; no, wiser than I, she came not.  And though I
+sighed:
+
+             What is worth
+    The rest of Heaven, the rest of earth?
+
+the shrewd little wench doubtless told herself: ‘A quiet life, without
+the fear of the broomstick.’
+
+Fred was impatient to be off, I had already trespassed too long on the
+kind hospitality of General Miller, neither of us had heard from England
+for more than a year, and the opportunities of trading vessels to
+California seldom offered.  A rare chance came—a fast-sailing brig, the
+‘Corsair,’ was to leave in a few days for San Francisco.  The captain was
+an Englishman, and had the repute of being a boon companion and a good
+caterer.  We—I, passively—settled to go.  Samson decided to remain.  He
+wanted to visit Owyhee.  He came on board with us, however; and, with a
+parting bumper of champagne, we said ‘Good-bye.’  That was the last I
+ever saw of him.  The hardships had broken him down.  He died not long
+after.
+
+The light breeze carried us slowly away—for the first time for many long
+months with our faces to the east.  But it was not ‘merry’ England that
+filled my juvenile fancies.  I leaned upon the taffrail and watched this
+lovely land of the ‘flowery food’ fade slowly from my sight.  I had eaten
+of the Lotus, and knew no wish but to linger on, to roam no more, to
+return no more, to any home that was not Arakeeta’s.
+
+This sort of feeling is not very uncommon in early life.  And ‘out of
+sight, out of mind,’ is also a known experience.  Long before we reached
+San Fr’isco I was again eager for adventure.
+
+How magnificent is the bay!  One cannot see across it.  How impatient we
+were to land!  Everything new.  Bearded dirty heterogeneous crowds busy
+in all directions,—some running up wooden and zinc houses, some paving
+the streets with planks, some housing over ships beached for temporary
+dwellings.  The sandy hills behind the infant town are being levelled and
+the foreshore filled up.  A ‘water surface’ of forty feet square is worth
+5,000 dollars.  So that here and there the shop-fronts are ships’
+broadsides.  Already there is a theatre.  But the chief feature is the
+gambling saloons, open night and day.  These large rooms are always
+filled with from 300 to 400 people of every description—from ‘judges’ and
+‘colonels’ (every man is one or the other, who is nothing else) to
+Parisian cocottes, and escaped convicts of all nationalities.  At one end
+of the saloon is a bar, at the other a band.  Dozens of tables are ranged
+around.  Monte, faro, rouge-et-noir, are the games.  A large proportion
+of the players are diggers in shirt-sleeves and butcher-boots, belts
+round their waists for bowie knife and ‘five shooters,’ which have to be
+surrendered on admittance.  They come with their bags of nuggets or
+‘dust,’ which is duly weighed, stamped, and sealed by officials for the
+purpose.
+
+I have still several specimens of the precious metal which I captured,
+varying in size from a grain of wheat to a mustard seed.
+
+The tables win enormously, and so do the ladies of pleasure; but the
+winnings of these go back again to the tables.  Four times, while we were
+here, differences of opinion arose concerning points of ‘honour,’ and
+were summarily decided by revolvers.  Two of the four were subsequently
+referred to Judge ‘Lynch.’
+
+Wishing to see the ‘diggings,’ Fred and I went to Sacramento—about 150
+miles up the river of that name.  This was but a pocket edition of San
+Francisco, or scarcely that.  We therefore moved to Marysville, which,
+from its vicinity to the various branches of the Sacramento river, was
+the chief depot for the miners of the ‘wet diggin’s’ in Northern
+California.  Here we were received by a Mr. Massett—a curious specimen of
+the waifs and strays that turn up all over the world in odd places, and
+whom one would be sure to find in the moon if ever one went there.  He
+owned a little one-roomed cabin, over the door of which was painted
+‘Offices of the Marysville Herald.’  He was his own contributor and
+‘correspondent,’ editor and printer, (the press was in a corner of the
+room).  Amongst other avocations he was a concert-giver, a comic reader,
+a tragic actor, and an auctioneer.  He had the good temper and sanguine
+disposition of a Mark Tapley.  After the golden days of California he
+spent his life wandering about the globe; giving ‘entertainments’ in
+China, Japan, India, Australia.  Wherever the English language is spoken,
+Stephen Massett had many friends and no enemies.
+
+Fred slept on the table, I under it, and next morning we hired horses and
+started for the ‘Forks of the Yuba.’  A few hours’ ride brought us to the
+gold-hunters.  Two or three hundred men were at work upon what had
+formerly been the bed of the river.  By unwritten law, each miner was
+entitled to a certain portion of the ‘bar,’ as it was called, in which
+the gold is found.  And, as the precious metal has to be obtained by
+washing, the allotments were measured by thirty feet on the banks of the
+river and into the dry bed as far as this extends; thus giving each man
+his allowance of water.  Generally three or four combined to possess a
+‘claim.’  Each would then attend to his own department: one loosened the
+soil, another filled the barrow or cart, a third carried it to the river,
+and the fourth would wash it in the ‘rocker.’  The average weight of gold
+got by each miner while we were at the ‘wet diggin’s,’ _i.e._ where water
+had to be used, was nearly half an ounce or seven dollars’ worth a day.
+We saw three Englishmen who had bought a claim 30 feet by 100 feet, for
+1,400 dollars.  It had been bought and sold twice before for considerable
+sums, each party supposing it to be nearly ‘played out.’  In three weeks
+the Englishmen paid their 1,400 dollars and had cleared thirteen dollars
+a day apiece for their labour.
+
+Our presence here created both curiosity and suspicion, for each gang and
+each individual was very shy of his neighbour.  They did not believe our
+story of crossing the plains; they themselves, for the most part, had
+come round the Horn; a few across the isthmus.  Then, if we didn’t want
+to dig, what did we want?  Another peculiarity about us—a great one—was,
+that, so far as they could see, we were unarmed.  At night the majority,
+all except the few who had huts, slept in a zinc house or sort of
+low-roofed barn, against the walls of which were three tiers of bunks.
+There was no room for us, even if we had wished it, but we managed to
+hire a trestle.  Mattress or covering we had none.  As Fred and I lay
+side by side, squeezed together in a trough scarcely big enough for one,
+we heard two fellows by the door of the shed talking us over.  They
+thought no doubt that we were fast asleep, they themselves were slightly
+fuddled.  We nudged each other and pricked up our ears, for we had
+already canvassed the question of security, surrounded as we were by
+ruffians who looked quite ready to dispose of babes in the wood.  They
+discussed our ‘portable property’ which was nil; one decided, while the
+other believed, that we must have money in our pockets.  The first
+remarked that, whether or no, we were unarmed; the other wasn’t so sure
+about that—it wasn’t likely we’d come there to be skinned for the asking.
+Then arose the question of consequences, and it transpired that neither
+of them had the courage of his rascality.  After a bit, both agreed they
+had better turn in.  Tired as we were, we fell asleep.  How long we had
+slumbered I know not, but all of a sudden I was seized by the beard, and
+was conscious of a report which in my dreams I took for a pistol-shot.  I
+found myself on the ground amid the wrecks of the trestle.  Its joints
+had given way under the extra weight, and Fred’s first impulse had been
+to clutch at my throat.
+
+On the way back to San Francisco we stayed for a couple of nights at
+Sacramento.  It was a miserable place, with nothing but a few temporary
+buildings except those of the Spanish settlers.  In the course of a walk
+round the town I noticed a crowd collected under a large elm-tree in the
+horse-market.  On inquiry I was informed that a man had been lynched on
+one of its boughs the night before last.  A piece of the rope was still
+hanging from the tree.  When I got back to the ‘hotel’—a place not much
+better than the shed at Yuba Forks—I found a newspaper with an account of
+the affair.  Drawing a chair up to the stove, I was deep in the story,
+when a huge rowdy-looking fellow in digger-costume interrupted me with:
+
+‘Say, stranger, let’s have a look at that paper, will ye?’
+
+‘When I’ve done with it,’ said I, and continued reading.  He lent over
+the back of my chair, put one hand on my shoulder, and with the other
+raised the paper so that he could read.
+
+‘Caint see rightly.  Ah, reckon you’re readen ’baout Jim, ain’t yer?’
+
+‘Who’s Jim?’
+
+‘Him as they sus-spended yesterday mornin’.  Jim was a purticler friend
+o’ mine, and I help’d to hang him.’
+
+‘A friendly act!  What was he hanged for?’
+
+‘When did you come to Sacramenty City?’
+
+‘Day before yesterday.’
+
+‘Wal, I’ll tell yer haow’t was then.  Yer see, Jim was a Britisher, he
+come from a place they call Botany Bay, which belongs to Victoria, but
+ain’t ’xactly in the Old Country.  I judge, when he first come to
+Californy, ’baout six months back, he warn’t acquainted none with any
+boys hereaway, so he took to diggin’ by hisself.  It was up to Cigar Bar
+whar he dug, and I chanst to be around there too, that’s haow we got to
+know one another.  Jim hadn’t been here not a fortnight ’fore one of the
+boys lost 300 dollars as he’d made a cache of.  Somehow suspicions fell
+on Jim.  More’n one of us thought he’d been a diggin’ for bags instead of
+for dust; and the man as lost the money swore he’d hev a turn with him;
+so Jim took my advice not to go foolin’ around, an’ sloped.’
+
+‘Well,’ said I, as my friend stopped to adjust his tobacco plug, ‘he
+wasn’t hanged for that?’
+
+‘’Tain’t likely!  Till last week nobody know’d whar he’d gone to.  When
+he come to Sacramenty this time, he come with a pile, an’ no mistake.
+All day and all night he used to play at faro an’ a heap o’ other games.
+Nobody couldn’t tell how he made his money hold out, nor whar he got it
+from; but sartin sure the crowd reckoned as haow Jim was considerable of
+a loafer.  One day a blacksmith as lives up Broad Street, said he found
+out the way he done it, and ast me to come with him and show up Jim for
+cheatin’.  Naow, whether it was as Jim suspicioned the blacksmith I
+cain’t say, but he didn’t cheat, and lost his money in consequence.  This
+riled him bad, so wantin’ to get quit of the blacksmith he began a
+quarrel.  The blacksmith was a quick-tempered man, and after some
+language struck Jim in the mouth.  Jim jumps up, and whippin’ out his
+revolver, shoots the t’other man dead on the spot.  I was the first to
+lay hold on him, but ef it hadn’t ’a’ been for me they’d ’a’ torn him to
+pieces.
+
+‘“Send for Judge Parker,” says some.
+
+‘“Let’s try him here,” says others.
+
+‘“I don’t want to be tried at all,” says Jim.  “You all know bloody well
+as I shot the man.  And I knows bloody well as I’ll hev to swing for it.
+Gi’ me till daylight, and I’ll die like a man.”
+
+‘But we wasn’t going to hang him without a proper trial; and as the trial
+lasted two hours, it—’
+
+‘Two hours!  What did you want two hours for?’
+
+‘There was some as wanted to lynch him, and some as wanted him tried by
+the reg’lar judges of the Crim’nal Court.  One of the best speakers said
+lynch-law was no law at all, and no innocent man’s life was safe with it.
+So there was a lot of speakin’, you bet.  By the time it was over it was
+just daylight, and the majority voted as he should die at onc’t.  So they
+took him to the horse-market, and stood him on a table under the big elm.
+I kep’ by his side, and when he was getting on the table he ast me to
+lend him my revolver to shoot the foreman of the jury.  When I wouldn’t,
+he ast me to tie the knot so as it wouldn’t slip.  “It ain’t no account,
+Jim,” says I, “to talk like that.  You’re bound to die; and ef they
+didn’t hang yer I’d shoot yer myself.”
+
+‘“Well then,” says he, “gi’ me hold of the rope, and I’ll show you how
+little I keer for death.”  He snatches the cord out o’ my hands, pulls
+hisself out o’ reach o’ the crowd, and sat cross-legged on the bough.
+Half a dozen shooters was raised to fetch him down, but he tied a noose
+in the rope, put it round his neck, slipped it puty tight, and stood up
+on the bough and made ’em a speech.  What he mostly said was as he hated
+’em all.  He cussed the man he shot, then he cussed the world, then he
+cussed hisself, and with a terr’ble oath he jumped off the bough, and
+swung back’ards and for’ards with his neck broke.’
+
+‘An Englishman,’ I reflected aloud.
+
+He nodded.  ‘You’re a Britisher, I reckon, ain’t yer?’
+
+‘Yes; why?’
+
+‘Wal, you’ve a puty strong accent.’
+
+‘Think so?’
+
+‘Wal, I could jest tie a knot in it.’
+
+This is a vulgar and repulsive story.  But it is not fiction; and any
+picture of Californian life in 1850, without some such faithful touch of
+its local colour, would be inadequate and misleading.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+A STEAMER took us down to Acapulco.  It is probably a thriving port now.
+When we were there, a few native huts and two or three stone buildings at
+the edge of the jungle constituted the ‘town.’  We bought some horses,
+and hired two men—a Mexican and a Yankee—for our ride to the city of
+Mexico.  There was at that time nothing but a mule-track, and no public
+conveyance of any kind.  Nothing could exceed the beauty of the scenery.
+Within 160 miles, as the crow flies, one rises up to the city of Mexico
+some 12,000 feet, with Popocatepetl overhanging it 17,500 feet high.  In
+this short space one passes from intense tropical heat and vegetation to
+pines and laurels and the proximity of perpetual snows.  The path in
+places winds along the brink of precipitous declivities, from the top of
+which one sees the climatic gradations blending one into another.  So
+narrow are some of the mountain paths that a mule laden with ore has
+often one panier overhanging the valley a thousand feet below it.
+Constantly in the long trains of animals descending to the coast, a slip
+of the foot or a charge from behind, for they all come down the steep
+track with a jolting shuffle, sends mule and its load over the ledge.  We
+found it very difficult in places to get out of the way in time to let
+the trains pass.  Flocks of parrots and great macaws screeching and
+flying about added to the novelty of the scene.
+
+The villages, inhabited by a cross between the original Indians and the
+Spaniards, are about twenty miles apart.  At one of these we always
+stayed for the night, sleeping in grass hammocks suspended between the
+posts of the verandah.  The only travellers we fell in with were a party
+of four Americans, returning to the Eastern States from California with
+the gold they had won there.  They had come in our steamer to Acapulco,
+and had left it a few hours before we did.  As the villages were so far
+apart we necessarily had to stop at night in the same one.  The second
+time this happened they, having arrived first, had quartered themselves
+on the Alcalde or principal personage of the place.  Our guide took us to
+the same house; and although His Worship, who had a better supply of
+maize for the horses, and a few more chickens to sell than the other
+natives, was anxious to accommodate us, the four Americans, a very
+rough-looking lot and armed to the teeth, wouldn’t hear of it, but
+peremptorily bade us put up elsewhere.  Our own American, who was much
+afraid of them, obeyed their commands without more ado.  It made not the
+slightest difference to us, for one grass hammock is as soft as another,
+and the Alcalde’s chickens were as tough as ours.
+
+Before the morning start, two of the diggers, rifles in hand, came over
+to us and plainly told us they objected to our company.  Fred, with
+perfect good humour, assured them we had no thought of robbing them, and
+that as the villages were so far apart we had no choice in the matter.
+However, as they wished to travel separate from us, if there should be
+two villages at all within suitable distances, they could stop at one and
+we at the other.  There the matter rested.  But our guide was more
+frightened than ever.  They were four to two, he argued, for neither he
+nor the Mexican were armed.  And there was no saying, etc., etc. . . .
+In short we had better stay where we were till they got through.  Fred
+laughed at the fellow’s alarm, and told him he might stop if he liked,
+but we meant to go on.
+
+As usual, when we reached the next stage, the diggers were before us; and
+when our men began to unsaddle at a hut about fifty yards from where they
+were feeding their horses, one of them, the biggest blackguard to look at
+of the lot, and though the fiercest probably the greatest cur, shouted at
+us to put the saddles on again and ‘get out of that.’  He had warned us
+in the morning that they’d had enough of us, and, with a volley of oaths,
+advised us to be off.  Fred, who was in his shirt-sleeves, listened at
+first with a look of surprise at such cantankerous unreasonableness; but
+when the ruffian fell to swear and threaten, he burst into one of his
+contemptuous guffaws, turned his back and began to feed his horse with a
+corncob.  Thus insulted, the digger ran into the hut (as I could see) to
+get his rifle.  I snatched up my own, which I had been using every day to
+practise at the large iguanas and macaws, and, well protected by my
+horse, called out as I covered him, ‘This is a double-barrelled rifle.
+If you raise yours I’ll drop you where you stand.’  He was forestalled
+and taken aback.  Probably he meant nothing but bravado.  Still, the
+situation was a critical one.  Obviously I could not wait till he had
+shot my friend.  But had it come to shooting there would have been three
+left, unless my second barrel had disposed of another.  Fortunately the
+‘boss’ of the digging party gauged the gravity of the crisis at a glance;
+and instead of backing him up as expected, swore at him for a ‘derned
+fool,’ and ordered him to have no more to do with us.
+
+After that, as we drew near to the city, the country being more thickly
+populated, we no longer clashed.
+
+This is not a guide-book, and I have nothing to tell of that readers
+would not find better described in their ‘Murray.’  We put up in an
+excellent hotel kept by M. Arago, the brother of the great French
+astronomer.  The only other travellers in it besides ourselves were the
+famous dancer Cerito, and her husband the violin virtuoso, St. Leon.
+Luckily for me our English Minister was Mr. Percy Doyle, whom I had known
+as _attaché_ at Paris when I was at Larue, and who was a great friend of
+the De Cubriers.  We were thus provided with many advantages for
+‘sight-seeing’ in and about the city, and also for more distant
+excursions through credentials from the Mexican authorities.  Under these
+auspices we visited the silver mines at Guadalajara, Potosi, and
+Guanajuata.
+
+The life in Mexico city was delightful, after a year’s tramp.  The hotel,
+as I have said, was to us luxurious.  My room under the verandah opened
+on to a large and beautiful garden partially enclosed on two sides.  As I
+lay in bed of a morning reading Prescott’s ‘History of Mexico,’ or
+watching the brilliant humming birds as they darted from flower to
+flower, and listened to the gentle plash of the fountain, my cup of
+enjoyment and romance was brimming over.
+
+Just before I left, an old friend of mine arrived from England.  This was
+Mr. Joseph Clissold.  He was a schoolfellow of mine at Sheen.  He had
+pulled in the Cambridge boat, and played in the Cambridge eleven.  He
+afterwards became a magistrate either in Australia or New Zealand.  He
+was the best type of the good-natured, level-headed, hard-hitting
+Englishman.  Curiously enough, as it turned out, the greater part of the
+only conversation we had (I was leaving the day after he came) was about
+the brigandage on the road between Mexico and Vera Cruz.  He told me the
+passengers in the diligence which had brought him up had been warned at
+Jalapa that the road was infested by robbers; and should the coach be
+stopped they were on no account to offer resistance, for the robbers
+would certainly shoot them if they did.
+
+Fred chose to ride down to the coast, I went by coach.  This held six
+inside and two by the driver.  Three of the inside passengers sat with
+backs to the horses, the others facing them.  My coach was full, and
+stifling hot and stuffy it was before we had done with it.  Of the five
+others two were fat priests, and for twenty hours my place was between
+them.  But in one way I had my revenge: I carried my loaded rifle between
+my knees, and a pistol in my belt.  The dismay, the terror, the panic,
+the protestations, the entreaties and execrations of all the five, kept
+us at least from _ennui_ for many a weary mile.  I doubt whether the two
+priests ever thumbed their breviaries so devoutly in their lives.
+Perhaps that brought us salvation.  We reached Vera Cruz without
+adventure, and in the autumn of ’51 Fred and I landed safely at
+Southampton.
+
+Two months after I got back, I read an account in the ‘Times’ of ‘Joe’
+Clissold’s return trip from Mexico.  The coach in which he was travelling
+was stopped by robbers.  Friend Joseph was armed with a double-barrelled
+smooth-bore loaded with slugs.  He considered this on the whole more
+suitable than a rifle.  When the captain of the brigands opened the coach
+door and, pistol in hand, politely proffered his request, Mr. Joe was
+quite ready for him, and confided the contents of one barrel to the
+captain’s bosom.  Seeing the fate of their commander, and not knowing
+what else the dilly might contain, the rest of the band dug spurs into
+their horses and fled.  But the sturdy oarsman and smart cricketer was
+too quick for one of them—the horse followed his friends, but the rider
+stayed with his chief.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+THE following winter, my friend, George Cayley, was ordered to the south
+for his health.  He went to Seville.  I joined him there; and we took
+lodgings and remained till the spring.  As Cayley published an amusing
+account of our travels, ‘Las Aforjas, or the Bridle Roads of Spain,’ as
+this is more than fifty years ago—before the days of railways and
+tourists—and as I kept no journal of my own, I will make free use of his.
+
+A few words will show the terms we were on.
+
+I had landed at Cadiz, and had gone up the Guadalquivir in a steamer,
+whose advent at Seville my friend was on the look-out for.  He describes
+his impatience for her arrival.  By some mistake he is misinformed as to
+the time; he is a quarter of an hour late.
+
+‘A remnant of passengers yet bustled around the luggage, arguing,
+struggling and bargaining with a contentious company of porters.  Alas!
+H. was not to be seen among them.  There was still a chance; he might be
+one of the passengers who had got ashore before my coming down, and I was
+preparing to rush back to the city to ransack the hotels.  Just then an
+internal convulsion shook the swarm around the luggage pile; out burst a
+little Gallego staggering under a huge British portmanteau, and followed
+by its much desired, and now almost despaired of, proprietor.
+
+‘I saw him come bowling up the slope with his familiar gait, evidently
+unconscious of my presence, and wearing that sturdy and almost hostile
+demeanour with which a true Briton marches into a strange city through
+the army of officious importunates who never fail to welcome the true
+Briton’s arrival.  As he passed the barrier he came close to me in the
+crowd, still without recognising me, for though straight before his nose
+I was dressed in the costume of the people.  I touched his elbow and he
+turned upon me with a look of impatient defiance, thinking me one
+persecutor more.
+
+‘How quickly the expression changed, etc., etc.  We rushed into each
+other’s arms, as much as the many great coats slung over his shoulders,
+and the deep folds of cloak in which I was enveloped, would mutually
+permit.  Then, saying more than a thousand things in a breath, or rather
+in no breath at all, we set off in great glee for my lodgings, forgetting
+in the excitement the poor little porter who was following at full trot,
+panting and puffing under the heavy portmanteau.  We got home, but were
+no calmer.  We dined, but could not eat.  We talked, but the news could
+not be persuaded to come out quick enough.’
+
+Who has not known what is here described?  Who does not envy the
+freshness, the enthusiasm, of such bubbling of warm young hearts?  Oh,
+the pity of it! if these generous emotions should prove as transient as
+youth itself.  And then, when one of those young hearts is turned to
+dust, and one is left to think of it—why then, ’tis not much comfort to
+reflect that—nothing in the world is commoner.
+
+We got a Spanish master and worked industriously, also picked up all the
+Andalusian we could, which is as much like pure Castilian as
+wold-Yorkshire is to English.  I also took lessons on the guitar.  Thus
+prepared, I imitated my friend and adopted the ordinary costume of the
+Andalusian peasant: breeches, ornamented with rows of silvered buttons,
+gaiters, a short jacket with a red flower-pot and blue lily on the back,
+and elbows with green and scarlet patterns, a red _faja_ or sash, and the
+sombrero which I believe is worn nowhere except in the bull-ring.  The
+whole of this picturesque dress is now, I think, given up.  I have spent
+the last two winters in the south of Spain, but have not once seen it.
+
+It must not be supposed that we chose this ‘get-up’ to gratify any
+æsthetic taste of our own or other people’s; it was long before the days
+of the ‘Too-toos,’ whom Mr. Gilbert brought to a timely end.  We had
+settled to ride through Spain from Gibraltar to Bayonne, choosing always
+the bridle-roads so as to avoid anything approaching a beaten track.  We
+were to visit the principal cities and keep more or less a northerly
+course, staying on the way at such places as Malaga, Cordova, Toledo,
+Madrid, Valladolid, and Burgos.  The rest was to be left to chance.  We
+were to take no map; and when in doubt as to diverging roads, the toss of
+a coin was to settle it.  This programme was conscientiously adhered to.
+The object of the dress then was obscurity.  For safety (brigands
+abounded) and for economy, it was desirable to pass unnoticed.  We never
+knew in what dirty _posada_ or road-side _venta_ we should spend the
+night.  For the most part it was at the resting-place of the muleteers,
+which would be nothing but a roughly paved dark chamber, one end occupied
+by mules and the other by their drivers.  We made our own omelets and
+salad and chocolate; with the exception of the never failing _bacallao_,
+or salt fish, we rarely had anything else; and rolling ourselves into our
+cloaks, with saddles for pillows, slept amongst the muleteers on the
+stone flags.  We had bought a couple of ponies in the Seville market for
+7_l._ and 8_l._  Our _alforjas_ or saddlebags contained all we needed.
+Our portmanteaus were sent on from town to town, wherever we had arranged
+to stop.  Rough as the life was, we saw the people of Spain as no
+ordinary travellers could hope to see them.  The carriers, the shepherds,
+the publicans, the travelling merchants, the priests, the barbers, the
+_molineras_ of Antequera, the Maritornes’, the Sancho Panzas—all just as
+they were seen by the immortal knight.
+
+From the _mozos de la cuadra_ (ostlers) and _arrieros_, upwards and
+downwards, nowhere have I met, in the same class, with such natural
+politeness.  This is much changed for the worse now; but before the
+invasion of tourists one never passed a man on the road who did not
+salute one with a ‘Vaya usted con Dios.’  Nor would the most indigent
+vagabond touch the filthy _bacallao_ which he drew from his wallet till
+he had courteously addressed the stranger with the formula ‘Quiere usted
+comer?’  (‘Will your Lordship please to eat?’)  The contrast between the
+people and the nobles in this respect was very marked.  We saw something
+of the latter in the club at Seville, where one met men whose
+high-sounding names and titles have come down to us from the greatest
+epochs of Spanish history.  Their ignorance was surprising.  Not one of
+them had been farther than Madrid.  Not one of them knew a word of any
+language but his own, nor was he acquainted with the rudiments even of
+his country’s history.  Their conversation was restricted to the
+bull-ring and the cockpit, to cards and women.  Their chief aim seemed to
+be to stagger us with the number of quarterings they bore upon their
+escutcheons; and they appraised others by a like estimate.
+
+Cayley, tickled with the humour of their childish vanity, painted an
+elaborate coat of arms, which he stuck in the crown of his hat, and by
+means of which he explained to them that he too was by rights a Spanish
+nobleman.  With the utmost gravity he delivered some such medley as this:
+His Iberian origin dated back to the time of Hannibal, who, after his
+defeat of the Papal forces and capture of Rome, had, as they well knew,
+married Princess Peri Banou, youngest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella.
+The issue of the marriage was the famous Cardinal Chicot, from whom
+he—George Cayley—was of direct male descent.  When Chicot was slain by
+Oliver Cromwell at the battle of Hastings, his descendants, foiled in
+their attempt to capture England with the Spanish Armada, settled in the
+principality of Yorkshire, adopted the noble name of Cayley, and still
+governed that province as members of the British Parliament.
+
+From that day we were treated with every mark of distinction.
+
+Here is another of my friend’s pranks.  I will let Cayley speak; for
+though I kept no journal, we had agreed to write a joint account of our
+trip, and our notebooks were common property.
+
+After leaving Malaga we met some beggars on the road, to one of whom, ‘an
+old hag with one eye and a grizzly beard,’ I threw the immense sum of a
+couple of 2-cuarto pieces.  An old man riding behind us on an ass with
+empty panniers, seeing fortunes being scattered about the road with such
+reckless and unbounded profusion, came up alongside, and entered into a
+piteous detail of his poverty.  When he wound up with plain begging, the
+originality and boldness of the idea of a mounted beggar struck us in so
+humorous a light that we could not help laughing.  As we rode along
+talking his case over, Cayley said, ‘Suppose we rob him.  He has sold his
+market produce in Malaga, and depend upon it, has a pocketful of money.’
+We waited for him to come up.  When he got fairly between us, Cayley
+pulled out his revolver (we both carried pistols) and thus addressed him:
+
+‘Impudent old scoundrel! stand still.  If thou stirr’st hand or foot, or
+openest thy mouth, I will slay thee like a dog.  Thou greedy miscreant,
+who art evidently a man of property and hast an ass to ride upon, art not
+satisfied without trying to rob the truly poor of the alms we give them.
+Therefore hand over at once the two dollars for which thou hast sold thy
+cabbages for double what they were worth.’
+
+The old culprit fell on his knees, and trembling violently, prayed Cayley
+for the love of the Virgin to spare him.
+
+‘One moment, _caballeros_,’ he cried, ‘I will give you all I possess.
+But I am poor, very poor, and I have a sick wife at the disposition of
+your worships.’
+
+‘Wherefore art thou fumbling at thy foot?  Thou carriest not thy wife in
+thy shoe?’
+
+‘I cannot untie the string—my hand trembles; will your worships permit me
+to take out my knife?’
+
+He did so, and cutting the carefully knotted thong of a leather bag which
+had been concealed in the leg of his stocking, poured out a handful of
+small coin and began to weep piteously.
+
+Said Cayley, ‘Come, come, none of that, or we shall feel it our duty to
+shoot thy donkey that thou may’st have something to whimper for.’
+
+The genuine tears of the poor old fellow at last touched the heart of the
+jester.
+
+‘We know now that thou art poor,’ said he, ‘for we have taken all thou
+hadst.  And as it is the religion of the Ingleses, founded on the
+practice of their celebrated saint, Robino Hoodo, to levy funds from the
+rich for the benefit of the needy, hold out thy sombero, and we will
+bestow a trifle upon thee.’
+
+So saying he poured back the plunder; to which was added, to the
+astonishment of the receiver, some supplementary pieces that nearly
+equalled the original sum.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+BEFORE setting out from Seville we had had our Foreign Office passports
+duly _viséd_.  Our profession was given as that of travelling artists,
+and the _visé_ included the permission to carry arms.  More than once the
+sight of our pistols caused us to be stopped by the _carabineros_.  On
+one occasion these road-guards disputed the wording of the _visé_.  They
+protested that ‘armas’ meant ‘escopetas,’ not pistols, which were
+forbidden.  Cayley indignantly retorted, ‘Nothing is forbidden to
+Englishmen.  Besides, it is specified in our passports that we are
+‘personas de toda confianza,’ which checkmated them.
+
+We both sketched, and passed ourselves off as ‘retratistas’ (portrait
+painters), and did a small business in this way—rather in the shape of
+caricatures, I fear, but which gave much satisfaction.  We charged one
+peseta (seven-pence), or two, a head, according to the means of the
+sitter.  The fiction that we were earning our bread wholesomely tended to
+moderate the charge for it.
+
+Passing through the land of Don Quixote’s exploits, we reverentially
+visited any known spot which these had rendered famous.  Amongst such was
+the _venta_ of Quesada, from which, or from Quixada, as some conjecture,
+the knight derived his surname.  It was here, attracted by its
+castellated style, and by two ‘ladies of pleasure’ at its door—whose
+virginity he at once offered to defend, that he spent the night of his
+first sally.  It was here that, in his shirt, he kept guard till morning
+over the armour he had laid by the well.  It was here that, with his
+spear, he broke the head of the carrier whom he took for another knight
+bent on the rape of the virgin princesses committed to his charge.  Here,
+too, it was that the host of the _venta_ dubbed him with the coveted
+knighthood which qualified him for his noble deeds.
+
+To Quesada we wended our way.  We asked the Señor Huesped whether he knew
+anything of the history of his _venta_.  Was it not very ancient?
+
+‘Oh no, it was quite modern.  But on the site of it had stood a fine
+_venta_ which was burnt down at the time of the war.’
+
+‘An old building?’
+
+‘Yes, indeed! _a cosa de siempre_—thing of always.  Nothing, was left of
+it now but that well, and the stone trough.’
+
+These bore marks of antiquity, and were doubtless as the gallant knight
+had left them.  Curiously, too, there were remains of an outhouse with a
+crenellated parapet, suggestive enough of a castle.
+
+From Quesada we rode to Argamasilla del Alba, where Cervantes was
+imprisoned, and where the First Part of Don Quixote was written.
+
+In his Life of Cervantes, Don Gregorio Mayano throws some doubt upon
+this.  Speaking of the attacks of his contemporary, the ‘Aragonian,’ Don
+Gregorio writes (I give Ozell’s translation): ‘As for this scandalous
+fellow’s saying that Cervantes wrote his First Part of “Don Quixote” in a
+prison, and that that might make it so dull and incorrect, Cervantes did
+not think fit to give any answer concerning his being imprisoned, perhaps
+to avoid giving offence to the ministers of justice; for certainly his
+imprisonment must not have been ignominious, since Cervantes himself
+voluntarily mentions it in his Preface to the First Part of “Don
+Quixote.”’
+
+This reasoning, however, does not seem conclusive; for the only reference
+to the subject in the preface is as follows: ‘What could my sterile and
+uncultivated genius produce but the history of a child, meagre, adust,
+and whimsical, full of various wild imaginations never thought of before;
+like one you may suppose born in a prison, where every inconvenience
+keeps its residence, and every dismal sound its habitation?’
+
+We took up our quarters in the little town at the ‘Posada de la Mina.’
+While our _olla_ was being prepared; we asked the hostess whether she had
+ever heard of the celebrated Don Miguel de Cervantes, who had been
+imprisoned there?  (I will quote Cayley).
+
+‘No, Señores; I think I have heard of one Cervantes, but he does not live
+here at present.’
+
+‘Do you know anything of Don Quixote?’
+
+‘Oh, yes.  He was a great _caballero_, who lived here some years ago.
+His house is over the way, on the other side of the _plaza_, with the
+arms over the door.  The father of the Alcalde is the oldest man in the
+_pueblo_; perhaps he may remember him.’
+
+We were amused at his hero’s fame outliving that of the author.  But is
+it not so with others—the writers of the Book of Job, of the Pentateuch,
+and perhaps, too, of the ‘Iliad,’ if not of the ‘Odyssey’?
+
+But, to let Cayley speak:
+
+‘While we were undressing to go to bed, three gentlemen were announced
+and shown in.  We begged them to be seated. . . .  We sat opposite on the
+ends of our respective beds to hear what they might have to communicate.
+A venerable old man opened the conference.
+
+‘“We have understood, gentlemen, that you have come hither seeking for
+information respecting the famous Don Quixote, and we have come to give
+you such information as we may; but, perhaps you will understand me
+better if I speak in Latin.”
+
+‘“We have learnt the Latin at our schools, but are more accustomed to
+converse in Castilian; pray proceed.”
+
+‘“I am the Medico of the place, an old man, as you see; and what little I
+know has reached me by tradition.  It is reported that Cervantes was
+paying his addresses to a young lady, whose name was Quijana or Quijada.
+The Alcalde, disapproving of the suit, put him into a dungeon under his
+house, and kept him there a year.  Once he escaped and fled, but he was
+taken in Toboso, and brought back.  Cervantes wrote ‘Don Quixote’ as a
+satire on the Alcalde, who was a very proud man, full of chivalresque
+ideas.  You can see the dungeon to-morrow; but you should see the
+_batanes_ (water-mills) of the Guadiana, whose ‘golpear’ so terrified
+Sancho Panza.  They are at about three leagues distance.”’
+
+The old gentleman added that he was proud to receive strangers who came
+to do honour to the memory of his illustrious townsman; and hoped we
+would visit him next day, on our return from the fulling-mills, when he
+would have the pleasure of conducting us to the house of the Quijanas, in
+the cellars of which Cervantes was confined.
+
+To the _batanes_ we went next morning.  Their historical importance
+entitles them to an accurate description.  None could be more lucid than
+that of my companion.  ‘These clumsy, ancient machines are composed of a
+couple of huge wooden mallets, slung in a timber framework, which, being
+pushed out of the perpendicular by knobs on a water-wheel, clash back
+again alternately in two troughs, pounding severely whatever may be put
+in between the face of the mallet and the end of the trough into which
+the water runs.’
+
+It will be remembered that, after a copious meal, Sancho having neglected
+to replenish the gourd, both he and his master suffered greatly from
+thirst.  It was now ‘so dark,’ says the history, ‘that they could see
+nothing; but they had not gone two hundred paces when a great noise of
+water reached their ears. . . .  The sound rejoiced them exceedingly;
+and, stopping to listen from whence it came, they heard on a sudden
+another dreadful noise, which abated their pleasure occasioned by that of
+the water, especially Sancho’s. . . .  They heard a dreadful din of irons
+and chains rattling across one another, and giving mighty strokes in time
+and measure which, together with the furious noise of the water, would
+have struck terror into any other heart than that of Don Quixote.’  For
+him it was but an opportunity for some valorous achievement.  So, having
+braced on his buckler and mounted Rosinante, he brandished his spear, and
+explained to his trembling squire that by the will of Heaven he was
+reserved for deeds which would obliterate the memory of the Platirs,
+Tablantes, the Olivantes, and Belianesas, with the whole tribe of the
+famous knights-errant of times past.
+
+‘Wherefore, straighten Rosinante’s girths a little,’ said he, ‘and God be
+with you.  Stay for me here three days, and no more; if I do not return
+in that time you may go to Toboso, where you shall say to my incomparable
+Lady Dulcinea that her enthralled knight died in attempting things that
+might have made him worthy to be styled “hers.”’
+
+Sancho, more terrified than ever at the thoughts of being left alone,
+reminded his master that it was unwise to tempt God by undertaking
+exploits from which there was no escaping but by a miracle; and, in order
+to emphasize this very sensible remark, secretly tied Rosinante’s hind
+legs together with his halter.  Seeing the success of his contrivance, he
+said: ‘Ah, sir! behold how Heaven, moved by my tears and prayers, has
+ordained that Rosinante cannot go,’ and then warned him not to set
+Providence at defiance.  Still Sancho was much too frightened by the
+infernal clatter to relax his hold of the knight’s saddle.  For some time
+he strove to beguile his own fears with a very long story about the
+goatherd Lope Ruiz, who was in love with the shepherdess Torralva—‘a
+jolly, strapping wench, a little scornful, and somewhat masculine.’  Now,
+whether owing to the cold of the morning, which was at hand, or whether
+to some lenitive diet on which he had supped, it so befell that Sancho
+. . . what nobody could do for him.  The truth is, the honest fellow was
+overcome by panic, and under no circumstances would, or did, he for one
+instant leave his master’s side.  Nay, when the knight spurred his steed
+and found it could not move, Sancho reminded him that the attempt was
+useless, since Rosinante was restrained by enchantment.  This the knight
+readily admitted, but stoutly protested that he himself was anything but
+enchanted by the close proximity of his squire.
+
+We all remember the grave admonitions of Don Quixote, and the ingenious
+endeavours of Sancho to lay the blame upon the knight.  But the final
+words of the Don contain a moral apposite to so many other important
+situations, that they must not be omitted here.  ‘Apostare, replicó
+Sancho, que pensa vuestra merced que yo he hecho de mi persona alguna
+cosa que no deba.’  ‘I will lay a wager,’ replied Sancho, ‘that your
+worship thinks that I have &c.’  The brief, but memorable, answer was:
+‘Peor es meneallo, amigo Sancho,’ which, as no translation could do
+justice to it, must be left as it stands.  _Quieta non movere_.
+
+We were nearly meeting with an adventure here.  While I was busy making a
+careful drawing of the _batanes_, Cayley’s pony was as much alarmed by
+the rushing waters as had been Sancho Panza.  In his endeavours to picket
+the animal, my friend dropped a pistol which I had lent him to practise
+with, although he carried a revolver of his own.  Not till he had tied up
+the pony at some little distance did he discover the loss.  In vain he
+searched the spot where he knew the pistol must have escaped from his
+_faja_.  Near it, three rough-looking knaves in shaggy goatskin garments,
+with guns over their shoulders, were watching the progress of my sketch.
+On his return Cayley asked two of these (the third moved away as he came
+up) whether they had seen the pistol.  They declared they had not; upon
+which he said he must search them.  He was not a man to be trifled with,
+and although they refused at first, they presently submitted.  He then
+overtook the third, and at once accused him of the theft.  The man swore
+he knew nothing of the lost weapon, and brought his gun to the charge.
+As he did so, Cayley caught sight of the pistol under the fellow’s
+sheepskin jacket, and with characteristic promptitude seized it, while he
+presented a revolver at the thief’s head.  All this he told me with great
+glee a minute or two later.
+
+When we got back to Argamasilla the Medico was already awaiting us.  He
+conducted us to the house of the Quijanas, where an old woman-servant,
+lamp in hand, showed the way down a flight of steps into the dungeon.  It
+was a low vaulted chamber, eight feet high, ten broad, and twenty-four
+long, dimly lighted by a lancet window six feet from the ground.  She
+confidently informed us that Cervantes was in the habit of writing at the
+farthest end, and that he was allowed a lamp for the purpose.  We
+accepted the information with implicit faith; silently picturing on our
+mental retinas the image of him whose genius had brightened the dark
+hours of millions for over three hundred years.  One could see the spare
+form of the man of action pacing up and down his cell, unconscious of
+prison walls, roaming in spirit through the boundless realms of Fancy,
+his piercing eyes intent upon the conjured visions of his brain.  One
+noted his vast expanse of brow, his short, crisp, curly hair, his high
+cheek-bones and singularly high-bridged nose, his refined mouth, small
+projecting chin and pointed beard.  One noticed, too, as he turned, the
+stump of the left wrist clasped by the remaining hand.  Who could stand
+in such a presence and fail to bow with veneration before this insulted
+greatness!  Potentates pass like Ozymandias, but not the men who, through
+the ages, help to save us from this tread-mill world, and from ourselves.
+
+We visited Cuenca, Segovia, and many an out-of-the-way spot.  If it be
+true, as Don Quixote declares, that ‘No hay libro tan malo que no tenga
+alguna cosa buena’ (‘there is no book so worthless that has not some good
+in it’), still more true is this of a country like Spain.  And the
+pleasantest places are just those which only by-roads lead to.  In and
+near the towns every other man, if not by profession still by practice,
+is a beggar.  From the seedy-looking rascal in the street, of whom you
+incautiously ask the way, and who piteously whines ‘para zapatos’—for the
+wear and tear of shoe leather, to the highest official, one and all hold
+out their hands for the copper _cuarto_ or the eleemosynary sinecure.  As
+it was then, so is it now; the Government wants support, and it is always
+to be had, at a price; deputies always want ‘places.’  For every duty the
+functionary performs, or ought to perform, he receives his bribe.  The
+Government is too poor to keep him honest, but his _pour-boires_ are not
+measured by his scruples.  All is winked at, if the Ministry secures a
+vote.
+
+Away in the pretty rural districts, in the little villages amid the woods
+and the mountains, with their score or so of houses and their little
+chapel with its tinkling old bell and its poverty-stricken curate, the
+hard-working, simple-minded men are too proud and too honest to ask for
+more than a pinch of tobacco for the _cigarillo_.  The maidens are
+comely, and as chaste as—can reasonably be expected.
+
+Madrid is worth visiting—not for its bull-fights, which are disgusting
+proofs of man’s natural brutality, but for its picture gallery.  No one
+knows what Velasquez could do, or has done, till he has seen Madrid; and
+Charles V. was practically master of Europe when the collection was in
+his hands.  The Escurial’s chief interests are in its associations with
+Charles V. and Philip II.  In the dark and gloomy little bedroom of the
+latter is a small window opening into the church, so that the King could
+attend the services in bed if necessary.
+
+It cannot be said of Philip that he was nothing if not religious, for
+Nero even was not a more indefatigable murderer, nor a more diabolical
+specimen of cruelty and superstition.  The very thought of the wretch
+tempts one to revolt at human piety, at any rate where priestcraft and
+its fabrications are at the bottom of it.
+
+When at Madrid we met Mr. Arthur Birch.  He had been with Cayley at Eton,
+as captain of the school.  While we were together, he received and
+accepted the offer of an Eton mastership.  We were going by diligence to
+Toledo, and Birch agreed to go with us.  I mention the fact because the
+place reminds me of a clever play upon its name by the Eton scholar.
+Cayley bought a Toledo sword-blade, and asked Birch for a motto to
+engrave upon it.  In a minute or two he hit off this: TIMETOLETUM, which
+reads Time Toletum=Honour Toledo, or Timeto Letum=Fear death.  Cayley’s
+attempts, though not so neat, were not bad.  Here are a couple of them:—
+
+    Though slight I am, no slight I stand,
+    Saying my master’s sleight of hand.
+
+or:—
+
+    Come to the point; unless you do,
+    The point will shortly come to you.
+
+Birch got the Latin poem medal at Cambridge the same year that Cayley got
+the English one.
+
+Before we set forth again upon our gipsy tramp, I received a letter from
+Mr. Ellice bidding me hasten home to contest the Borough of Cricklade in
+the General Election of 1852.  Under these circumstances we loitered but
+little on the Northern roads.  At the end of May we reached Yrun.  Here
+we sold our ponies—now quite worn out—for twenty-three dollars—about five
+guineas.  So that a thousand miles of locomotion had cost us a little
+over five guineas apiece.  Not counting hotels at Madrid and such smart
+places, our daily cost for selves and ponies rarely exceeded six pesetas,
+or three shillings each all told.  The best of it was, the trip restored
+the health of my friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+IN February of this year, 1852, Lord Palmerston, aided by an incongruous
+force of Peelites and Protectionists, turned Lord John Russell out of
+office on his Militia Bill.  Lord Derby, with Disraeli as Chancellor of
+the Exchequer and leader of the House of Commons, came into power on a
+cry for Protection.
+
+Not long after my return to England, I was packed off to canvas the
+borough of Cricklade.  It was then a very extensive borough, including a
+large agricultural district, as well as Swindon, the headquarters of the
+Great Western Railway.  For many years it had returned two Conservative
+members, Messrs. Nield and Goddard.  It was looked upon as an impregnable
+Tory stronghold, and the fight was little better than a forlorn hope.
+
+My headquarters were at Coleshill, Lord Radnor’s.  The old lord had, in
+his Parliamentary days, been a Radical; hence, my advanced opinions found
+great favour in his eyes.  My programme was—Free Trade, Vote by Ballot,
+and Disestablishment.  Two of these have become common-places (one
+perhaps effete), and the third is nearer to accomplishment than it was
+then.
+
+My first acquaintance with a constituency, amongst whom I worked
+enthusiastically for six weeks, was comic enough.  My instructions were
+to go to Swindon; there an agent, whom I had never seen, would join me.
+A meeting of my supporters had been arranged by him, and I was to make my
+maiden speech in the market-place.
+
+My address, it should be stated—ultra-Radical, of course—was mainly
+concocted for me by Mr. Cayley, an almost rabid Tory, and then member for
+the North Riding of Yorkshire, but an old Parliamentary hand; and, in
+consequence of my attachment to his son, at that time and until his
+death, like a father to me.
+
+When the train stopped at Swindon, there was a crowd of passengers, but
+not a face that I knew; and it was not till all but one or two had left,
+that a business-looking man came up and asked if I were the candidate for
+Cricklade.  He told me that a carriage was in attendance to take us up to
+the town; and that a procession, headed by a band, was ready to accompany
+us thither.  The procession was formed mainly of the Great Western
+boiler-makers and artisans.  Their enthusiasm seemed slightly
+disproportioned to the occasion; and the vigour of the brass, and
+especially of the big drum, so filled my head with visions of Mr.
+Pickwick and his friend the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, that by the time I
+reached the market-place, I had forgotten every syllable of the speech
+which I had carefully learnt by heart.  Nor was it the band alone that
+upset me; going up the hill the carriage was all but capsized by the
+frightened horses and the breaking of the pole.  The gallant
+boiler-makers, however, at once removed the horses, and dragged the
+carriage with cheers of defiance into the crowd awaiting us.
+
+My agent had settled that I was to speak from a window of the hotel.  The
+only available one was an upper window, the lower sash of which could not
+be persuaded to keep up without being held.  The consequence was, just as
+I was getting over the embarrassment of extemporary oration, down came
+the sash and guillotined me.  This put the crowd in the best of humours;
+they roared with laughter, and after that we got on capitally together.
+
+A still more inopportune accident happened to me later in the day, when
+speaking at Shrivenham.  A large yard enclosed by buildings was chosen
+for the meeting.  The difficulty was to elevate the speaker above the
+heads of the assembly.  In one corner of the yard was a water-butt.  An
+ingenious elector got a board, placed it on the top of the butt—which was
+full of water—and persuaded me to make this my rostrum.  Here, again, in
+the midst of my harangue—perhaps I stamped to emphasize my horror of
+small loaves and other Tory abominations—the board gave way; and I
+narrowly escaped a ducking by leaping into the arms of a ‘supporter.’
+
+The end of it all was that my agent at the last moment threw up the
+sponge.  The farmers formed a serried phalanx against Free Trade; it was
+useless to incur the expense of a poll.  Then came the bill.  It was a
+heavy one; for in addition to my London agent—a professional
+electioneering functionary—were the local agents at towns like
+Malmesbury, Wootton Bassett, Shrivenham, &c., &c.  My eldest brother, who
+was a soberer-minded politician than I, although very liberal to me in
+other ways, declined to support my political opinions.  I myself was
+quite unable to pay the costs.  Knowing this, Lord Radnor called me into
+his study as I was leaving Coleshill, and expressed himself warmly with
+respect to my labours; regretting the victory of the other side, he
+declared that, as the question of Protection would be disposed of, one of
+the two seats would be safe upon a future contest.
+
+‘And who,’ asked the old gentleman, with a benevolent grin on his face,
+‘who is going to pay your expenses?’
+
+‘Goodness knows, sir,’ said I; ‘I hope they won’t come down upon me.  I
+haven’t a thousand pounds in the world, unless I tap my fortune.’
+
+‘Well,’ said his Lordship, with a chuckle, ‘I haven’t paid my
+subscription to Brooks’s yet, so I’ll hand it over to you,’ and he gave
+me a cheque for £500.
+
+The balance was obtained through Mr. Ellice from the patronage Secretary
+to the Treasury.  At the next election, as Lord Radnor predicted, Lord
+Ashley, Lord Shaftesbury’s eldest son, won one of the two seats for the
+Liberals with the greatest ease.
+
+As Coleshill was an open house to me from that time as long as Lord
+Radnor lived, I cannot take leave of the dear old man without an
+affectionate word at parting.  Creevey has an ill-natured fling at him,
+as he has at everybody else, but a kinder-hearted and more perfect
+gentleman would be difficult to meet with.  His personality was a marked
+one.  He was a little man, with very plain features, a punch-like nose,
+an extensive mouth, and hardly a hair on his head.  But in spite of these
+peculiarities, his face was pleasant to look at, for it was invariably
+animated by a sweet smile, a touch of humour, and a decided air of
+dignity.  Born in 1779, he dressed after the orthodox Whig fashion of his
+youth, in buff and blue, his long-tailed coat reaching almost to his
+heels.  His manner was a model of courtesy and simplicity.  He used
+antiquated expressions: called London ‘Lunnun,’ Rome ‘Room,’ a balcony a
+‘balcöny’; he always spoke of the clergyman as the ‘pearson,’ and called
+his daughter Lady Mary, ‘Meary.’  Instead of saying ‘this day week’ he
+would say this day sen’nit’ (for sen’night).
+
+The independence of his character was very noticeable.  As an instance: A
+party of twenty people, say, would be invited for a given day.  Abundance
+of carriages would be sent to meet the trains, so that all the guests
+would arrive in ample time for dinner.  It generally happened that some
+of them, not knowing the habits of the house, or some duchess or great
+lady who might assume that clocks were made for her and not she for
+clocks, would not appear in the drawing-room till a quarter of an hour
+after the dinner gong had sounded.  If anyone did so, he or she would
+find that everybody else had got through soup and fish.  If no one but
+Lady Mary had been down when dinner was announced, his Lordship would
+have offered his arm to his daughter, and have taken his seat at the
+table alone.  After the first night, no one was ever late.  In the
+morning he read prayers to the household before breakfast with the same
+precise punctuality.
+
+Lady Mary Bouverie, his unmarried daughter, was the very best of
+hostesses.  The house under her management was the perfection of comfort.
+She married an old and dear friend of mine, Sir James Wilde, afterwards
+the Judge, Lord Penzance.  I was his ‘best man.’
+
+My ‘Ride over the Rocky Mountains’ was now published; and, as the field
+was a new one, the writer was rewarded, for a few weeks, with invitations
+to dinner, and the usual tickets for ‘drums’ and dances.  To my
+astonishment, or rather to my alarm, I received a letter from the
+Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society (Charles Fox, or perhaps Sir
+George Simpson had, I think, proposed me—I never knew), to say that I had
+been elected a member.  Nothing was further from my ambition.  The very
+thought shrivelled me with a sense of ignorance and insignificance.  I
+pictured to myself an assembly of old fogies crammed with all the
+‘ologies.  I broke into a cold perspiration when I fancied myself called
+upon to deliver a lecture on the comparative sea-bottomy of the Oceanic
+globe, or give my theory of the simultaneous sighting by ‘little Billee’
+of ‘Madagascar, and North, and South Amerikee.’  Honestly, I had not the
+courage to accept; and, young Jackanapes as I was, left the Secretary’s
+letter unanswered.
+
+But a still greater honour—perhaps the greatest compliment I ever had
+paid me—was to come.  I had lodgings at this time in an old house, long
+since pulled down, in York Street.  One day, when I was practising the
+fiddle, who should walk into my den but Rogers the poet!  He had never
+seen me in his life.  He was in his ninetieth year, and he had climbed
+the stairs to the first floor to ask me to one of his breakfast parties.
+To say nothing of Rogers’ fame, his wealth, his position in society,
+those who know what his cynicism and his worldliness were, will
+understand what such an effort, physical and moral, must have cost him.
+He always looked like a death’s head, but his ghastly pallor, after that
+Alpine ascent, made me feel as if he had come—to stay.
+
+These breakfasts were entertainments of no ordinary distinction.  The
+host himself was of greater interest than the most eminent of his guests.
+All but he, were more or less one’s contemporaries: Rogers, if not quite
+as dead as he looked, was ancient history.  He was old enough to have
+been the father of Byron, of Shelley, of Keats, and of Moore.  He was
+several years older than Scott, or Wordsworth, or Coleridge, and only
+four years younger than Pitt.  He had known all these men, and could, and
+did, talk as no other could talk, of all of them.  Amongst those whom I
+met at these breakfasts were Cornewall Lewis, Delane, the Grotes,
+Macaulay, Mrs. Norton, Monckton Milnes, William Harcourt (the only one
+younger than myself), but just beginning to be known, and others of
+scarcely less note.
+
+During the breakfast itself, Rogers, though seated at table in an
+armchair, took no part either in the repast or in the conversation; he
+seemed to sleep until the meal was over.  His servant would then place a
+cup of coffee before him, and, like a Laputian flapper, touch him gently
+on the shoulder.  He would at once begin to talk, while others listened.
+The first time I witnessed this curious resurrection, I whispered
+something to my neighbour, at which he laughed.  The old man’s eye was
+too sharp for us.
+
+‘You are laughing at me,’ said he; ‘I dare say you young gentlemen think
+me an old fellow; but there are younger than I who are older.  You should
+see Tommy Moore.  I asked him to breakfast, but he’s too weak—weak here,
+sir,’ and he tapped his forehead.  ‘I’m not that.’  (This was the year
+that Moore died.)  He certainly was not; but his whole discourse was of
+the past.  It was as though he would not condescend to discuss events or
+men of the day.  What were either to the days and men that he had
+known—French revolutions, battles of Trafalgar and Waterloo, a Nelson and
+a Buonaparte, a Pitt, a Burke, a Fox, a Johnson, a Gibbon, a Sheridan,
+and all the men of letters and all the poets of a century gone by?  Even
+Macaulay had for once to hold his tongue; and could only smile
+impatiently at what perhaps he thought an old man’s astonishing
+garrulity.  But if a young and pretty woman talked to him, it was not his
+great age that he vaunted, nor yet the ‘pleasures of memory’—one envied
+the adroitness of his flattery, and the gracefulness of his repartee.
+
+My friend George Cayley had a couple of dingy little rooms between
+Parliament Street and the river.  Much of my time was spent there with
+him.  One night after dinner, quite late, we were building castles amidst
+tobacco clouds, when, following a ‘May I come in?’ Tennyson made his
+appearance.  This was the first time I had ever met him.  We gave him the
+only armchair in the room; and pulling out his dudeen and placing afoot
+on each side of the hob of the old-fashioned little grate, he made
+himself comfortable before he said another word.  He then began to talk
+of pipes and tobacco.  And never, I should say, did this important topic
+afford so much ingenious conversation before.  We discussed the relative
+merits of all the tobaccos in the world—of moist tobacco and dry tobacco,
+of old tobacco and new tobacco, of clay pipes and wooden pipes and
+meerschaum pipes.  What was the best way to colour them, the advantages
+of colouring them, the beauty of the ‘culotte,’ the coolness it gave to
+the smoke, &c.  We listened to the venerable sage—he was then forty-three
+and we only five or six and twenty—as we should have listened to a Homer
+or an Aristotle, and he thoroughly enjoyed our appreciation of his jokes.
+
+Some of them would have startled such of his admirers who knew him only
+by his poems; for his stories were anything but poetical—rather humorous
+one might say, on the whole.  Here’s one of them: he had called last week
+on the Duchess of Sutherland at Stafford House.  Her two daughters were
+with her, the Duchess of Argyll and the beautiful Lady Constance
+Grosvenor, afterwards Duchess of Westminster.  They happened to be in the
+garden.  After strolling about for a while, the Mama Duchess begged him
+to recite some of his poetry.  He chose ‘Come into the garden,
+Maud’—always a favourite of the poet’s, and, as may be supposed, many
+were the fervid exclamations of ‘How beautiful!’  When they came into the
+house, a princely groom of the chambers caught his eye and his ear, and,
+pointing to his own throat, courteously whispered: ‘Your dress is not
+quite as you would wish it, sir.’
+
+‘I had come out without a necktie; and there I was, spouting my lines to
+the three Graces, as _décolleté_ as a strutting turkey cock.’
+
+The only other allusion to poetry or literature that night was a story I
+told him of a Mr. Thomas Wrightson, a Yorkshire banker, and a fanatical
+Swedenborgian.  Tommy Wrightson, who was one of the most amiable and
+benevolent of men, spent his life in making a manuscript transcript of
+Swedenborg’s works.  His writing was a marvel of calligraphic art; he
+himself, a curiosity.  Swedenborg was for him an avatar; but if he had
+doubted of Tennyson’s ultimate apotheosis, I think he would have elected
+to seek him in ‘the other place.’  Anyhow, Mr. Wrightson avowed to me
+that he repeated ‘Locksley Hall’ every morning of his life before
+breakfast.  This I told Tennyson.  His answer was a grunt; and in a voice
+from his boots, ‘Ugh! enough to make a dog sick!’  I did my utmost to
+console him with the assurance that, to the best of my belief, Mr.
+Wrightson had once fallen through a skylight.
+
+As illustrating the characters of the admired and his admirer, it may be
+related that the latter, wishing for the poet’s sign-manual, wrote and
+asked him for it.  He addressed Tennyson, whom he had never seen, as ‘My
+dear Alfred.’  The reply, which he showed to me, was addressed ‘My dear
+Tom.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+MY stepfather, Mr. Ellice, having been in two Ministries—Lord Grey’s in
+1830, and Lord Melbourne’s in 1834—had necessarily a large parliamentary
+acquaintance; and as I could always dine at his house in Arlington Street
+when I pleased, I had constant opportunities of meeting most of the
+prominent Whig politicians, and many other eminent men of the day.  One
+of the dinner parties remains fresh in my memory—not because of the
+distinguished men who happened to be there, but because of the statesman
+whose name has since become so familiar to the world.
+
+Some important question was before the House in which Mr. Ellice was
+interested, and upon which he intended to speak.  This made him late for
+dinner, but he had sent word that his son was to take his place, and the
+guests were not to wait.  When he came Lord John Russell greeted him
+with—
+
+‘Well, Ellice, who’s up?’
+
+‘A younger son of Salisbury’s,’ was the reply; ‘Robert Cecil, making his
+maiden speech.  If I hadn’t been in a hurry I should have stopped to
+listen to him.  Unless I am very much mistaken, he’ll make his mark, and
+we shall hear more of him.’
+
+There were others dining there that night whom it is interesting to
+recall.  The Grotes were there.  Mrs. Grote, scarcely less remarkable
+than her husband; Lord Mahon, another historian (who married a niece of
+Mr. Ellice’s), Lord Brougham, and two curious old men both remarkable, if
+for nothing else, for their great age.  One was George Byng, father of
+the first Lord Strafford, and ‘father’ of the House of Commons; the other
+Sir Robert Adair, who was Ambassador at Constantinople when Byron was
+there.  Old Mr. Byng looked as aged as he was, and reminded one of Mr.
+Smallweed doubled up in his porter’s chair.  Quite different was his
+compeer.  We were standing in the recess of the drawing-room window after
+dinner when Sir Robert said to me:
+
+‘Very shaky, isn’t he!  Ah! he was my fag at Eton, and I’ve got the best
+of it still.’
+
+Brougham having been twice in the same Government with Mr. Ellice, and
+being devoted to young Mrs. Edward Ellice, his charming daughter-in-law,
+was a constant visitor at 18 Arlington Street.  Mrs. Ellice often told me
+of his peculiarities, which must evidently have been known to others.
+Walter Bagehot, speaking of him, says:
+
+‘Singular stories of eccentricity and excitement, even of something more
+than either of these, darken these latter years.’
+
+What Mrs. Ellice told me was, that she had to keep a sharp watch on Lord
+Brougham if he sat near her writing-table while he talked to her; for if
+there was any pretty little knick-knack within his reach he would, if her
+head were turned, slip it into his pocket.  The truth is perhaps better
+than the dark hint, for certainly we all laughed at it as nothing but
+eccentricity.
+
+But the man who interested me most (for though when in the Navy I had
+heard a hundred legends of his exploits, I had never seen him before) was
+Lord Dundonald.  Mr. Ellice presented me to him, and the old hero asked
+why I had left the Navy.
+
+‘The finest service in the world; and likely, begad, to have something to
+do before long.’
+
+This was only a year before the Crimean war.  With his strong rough
+features and tousled mane, he looked like a grey lion.  One expected to
+see him pick his teeth with a pocket boarding-pike.
+
+The thought of the old sailor always brings before me the often mooted
+question raised by the sentimentalists and humanitarians concerning the
+horrors of war.  Not long after this time, the papers—the sentimentalist
+papers—were furious with Lord Dundonald for suggesting the adoption by
+the Navy of a torpedo which he himself, I think, had invented.  The bare
+idea of such wholesale slaughter was revolting to a Christian world.  He
+probably did not see much difference between sinking a ship with a
+torpedo, and firing a shell into her magazine; and likely enough had as
+much respect for the opinions of the woman-man as he had for the
+man-woman.
+
+There is always a large number of people in the world who suffer from
+emotional sensitiveness and susceptibility to nervous shocks of all
+kinds.  It is curious to observe the different and apparently unallied
+forms in which these characteristics manifest themselves.  With some,
+they exhibit extreme repugnance to the infliction of physical pain for
+whatever end; with others there seems to be a morbid dread of violated
+pudicity.  Strangely enough the two phases are frequently associated in
+the same individual.  Both tendencies are eminently feminine; the
+affinity lies in a hysterical nature.  Thus, excessive pietism is a
+frequent concomitant of excessive sexual passion; this, though notably
+the case with women, is common enough with men of unduly neurotic
+temperaments.
+
+Only the other day some letters appeared in the ‘Times’ about the
+flogging of boys in the Navy.  And, as a sentimental argument against it,
+we were told by the Humanitarian Leaguers that it is ‘obscene.’  This is
+just what might be expected, and bears out the foregoing remarks.  But
+such saintly simplicity reminds us of the kind of squeamishness of which
+our old acquaintance Mephisto observes:
+
+    Man darf das nicht vor keuschen Ohren nennen,
+    Was keusche Herzen nicht entbehren können.
+
+    (Chaste ears find nothing but the devil in
+    What nicest fancies love to revel in.)
+
+The same astute critic might have added:
+
+    And eyes demure that look away when seen,
+    Lose ne’er a chance to peep behind the screen.
+
+It is all of a piece.  We have heard of the parlour-maid who fainted
+because the dining-table had ‘ceder legs,’ but never before that a
+‘switching’ was ‘obscene.’  We do not envy the unwholesomeness of a mind
+so watchful for obscenity.
+
+Be that as it may, so far as humanity is concerned, this hypersensitive
+effeminacy has but a noxious influence; and all the more for the twofold
+reason that it is sometimes sincere, though more often mere cant and
+hypocrisy.  At the best, it is a perversion of the truth; for emotion
+combined with ignorance, as it is in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases
+out of a thousand, is a serious obstacle in the path of rational
+judgment.
+
+Is sentimentalism on the increase?  It seems to be so, if we are to judge
+by a certain portion of the Press, and by speeches in Parliament.  But
+then, this may only mean that the propensity finds easier means of
+expression than it did in the days of dearer paper and fewer newspapers,
+and also that speakers find sentimental humanity an inexhaustible fund
+for political capital.  The excess of emotional attributes in man over
+his reasoning powers must, one would think, have been at least as great
+in times past as it is now.  Yet it is doubtful whether it showed itself
+then so conspicuously as it does at present.  Compare the Elizabethan age
+with our own.  What would be said now of the piratical deeds of such men
+as Frobisher, Raleigh, Gilbert, and Richard Greville?  Suppose Lord
+Roberts had sent word to President Kruger that if four English soldiers,
+imprisoned at Pretoria, were molested, he would execute 2,000 Boers and
+send him their heads?  The clap-trap cry of ‘Barbaric Methods’ would have
+gone forth to some purpose; it would have carried every constituency in
+the country.  Yet this is what Drake did when four English sailors were
+captured by the Spaniards, and imprisoned by the Spanish Viceroy in
+Mexico.
+
+Take the Elizabethan drama, and compare it with ours.  What should we
+think of our best dramatist if, in one of his tragedies, a man’s eyes
+were plucked out on the stage, and if he that did it exclaimed as he
+trampled on them, ‘Out, vile jelly! where is thy lustre now?’ or of a
+Titus Andronicus cutting two throats, while his daughter ‘’tween her
+stumps doth hold a basin to receive their blood’?
+
+‘Humanity,’ says Taine, speaking of these times, ‘is as much lacking as
+decency.  Blood, suffering, does not move them.’
+
+Heaven forbid that we should return to such brutality!  I cite these
+passages merely to show how times are changed; and to suggest that with
+the change there is a decided loss of manliness.  Are men more virtuous,
+do they love honour more, are they more chivalrous, than the Miltons, the
+Lovelaces, the Sidneys of the past?  Are the women chaster or more
+gentle?  No; there is more puritanism, but not more true piety.  It is
+only the outside of the cup and the platter that are made clean, the
+inward part is just as full of wickedness, and all the worse for its
+hysterical fastidiousness.
+
+To what do we owe this tendency?  Are we degenerating morally as well as
+physically?  Consider the physical side of the question.  Fifty years ago
+the standard height for admission to the army was five feet six inches.
+It is now lowered to five feet.  Within the last ten years the increase
+in the urban population has been nearly three and a half millions.
+Within the same period the increase in the rural population is less than
+a quarter of one million.  Three out of five recruits for the army are
+rejected; a large proportion of them because their teeth are gone or
+decayed.  Do these figures need comment?  Can you look for sound minds in
+such unsound bodies?  Can you look for manliness, for self-respect, and
+self-control, or anything but animalistic sentimentality?
+
+It is not the character of our drama or of our works of fiction that
+promotes and fosters this propensity; but may it not be that the enormous
+increase in the number of theatres, and the prodigious supply of novels,
+may have a share in it, by their exorbitant appeal to the emotional, and
+hence neurotic, elements of our nature?  If such considerations apply
+mainly to dwellers in overcrowded towns, there is yet another cause which
+may operate on those more favoured,—the vast increase in wealth and
+luxury.  Wherever these have grown to excess, whether in Babylon, or
+Nineveh, or Thebes, or Alexandria, or Rome, they have been the symptoms
+of decadence, and forerunners of the nation’s collapse.
+
+Let us be humane, let us abhor the horrors of war, and strain our utmost
+energies to avert them.  But we might as well forbid the use of surgical
+instruments as the weapons that are most destructive in warfare.  If a
+limb is rotting with gangrene, shall it not be cut away?  So if the
+passions which occasion wars are inherent in human nature, we must face
+the evil stout-heartedly; and, for one, I humbly question whether any
+abolition of dum-dum bullets or other attempts to mitigate this disgrace
+to humanity, do, in the end, more good than harm.
+
+It is elsewhere that we must look for deliverance,—to the overwhelming
+power of better educated peoples; to closer intercourse between the
+nations; to the conviction that, from the most selfish point of view
+even, peace is the only path to prosperity; to the restraint of the baser
+Press which, for mere pelf, spurs the passions of the multitude instead
+of curbing them; and, finally, to deliverance from the ‘all-potent wills
+of Little Fathers by Divine right,’ and from the ignoble ambition of
+bullet-headed uncles and brothers and cousins—a curse from which England,
+thank the Gods! is, and let us hope, ever will be, free.  But there are
+more countries than one that are not so—just now; and the world may ere
+long have to pay the bitter penalty.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+IT is curious if one lives long enough to watch the change of taste in
+books.  I have no lending-library statistics at hand, but judging by the
+reading of young people, or of those who read merely for their amusement,
+the authors they patronise are nearly all living or very recent.  What we
+old stagers esteemed as classical in fiction and _belles-lettres_ are
+sealed books to the present generation.  It is an exception, for
+instance, to meet with a young man or young woman who has read Walter
+Scott.  Perhaps Balzac’s reason is the true one.  Scott, says he, ‘est
+sans passion; il l’ignore, ou peut-être lui était-elle interdite par les
+mœurs hypocrites de son pays.  Pour lui la femme est le devoir incarné.
+A de rares exceptions près, ses héroïnes sont absolument les mêmes . . .
+La femme porte le désordre dans la société par la passion.  La passion a
+des accidents infinis.  Peignez donc les passions, vous aurez les sources
+immenses dont s’est privé ce grand génie pour être lu dans toutes les
+familles de la prude Angleterre.’  Does not Thackeray lament that since
+Fielding no novelist has dared to face the national affectation of
+prudery?  No English author who valued his reputation would venture to
+write as Anatole France writes, even if he could.  Yet I pity the man who
+does not delight in the genius that created M. Bergeret.
+
+A well-known author said to me the other day, he did not believe that
+Thackeray himself would be popular were he writing now for the first
+time—not because of his freedom, but because the public taste has
+altered.  No present age can predict immortality for the works of its
+day; yet to say that what is intrinsically good is good for all time is
+but a truism.  The misfortune is that much of the best in literature
+shares the fate of the best of ancient monuments and noble cities; the
+cumulative rubbish of ages buries their splendours, till we know not
+where to find them.  The day may come when the most valuable service of
+the man of letters will be to unearth the lost treasures and display
+them, rather than add his grain of dust to the ever-increasing middens.
+
+Is Carlyle forgotten yet, I wonder?  How much did my contemporaries owe
+to him in their youth?  How readily we followed a leader so sure of
+himself, so certain of his own evangel.  What an aid to strength to be
+assured that the true hero is the morally strong man.  One does not
+criticise what one loves; one didn’t look too closely into the doctrine
+that, might is right, for somehow he managed to persuade us that right
+makes the might—that the strong man is the man who, for the most part,
+does act rightly.  He is not over-patient with human frailty, to be sure,
+and is apt, as Herbert Spencer found, to fling about his scorn rather
+recklessly.  One fancies sometimes that he has more respect for a genuine
+bad man than for a sham good one.  In fact, his ‘Eternal Verities’ come
+pretty much to the same as Darwin’s ‘Law of the advancement of all
+organic bodies’; ‘let the strong live, and the weakest die.’  He had no
+objection to seeing ‘the young cuckoo ejecting its foster-brothers, or
+ants making slaves.’  But he atones for all this by his hatred of cant
+and hypocrisy.  It is for his manliness that we love him, for his
+honesty, for his indifference to any mortal’s approval save that of
+Thomas Carlyle.  He convinces us that right thinking is good, but that
+right doing is much better.  And so it is that he does honour to men of
+action like his beloved Oliver, and Fritz,—neither of them paragons of
+wisdom or of goodness, but men of doughty deeds.
+
+Just about this time I narrowly missed a longed-for chance of meeting
+this hero of my _penates_.  Lady Ashburton—Carlyle’s Lady
+Ashburton—knowing my admiration, kindly invited me to The Grange, while
+he was there.  The house was full—mainly of ministers or
+ex-ministers,—Cornewall Lewis, Sir Charles Wood, Sir James Graham, Albany
+Fonblanque, Mr. Ellice, and Charles Buller—Carlyle’s only pupil; but the
+great man himself had left an hour before I got there.  I often met him
+afterwards, but never to make his acquaintance.  Of course, I knew
+nothing of his special friendship for Lady Ashburton, which we are told
+was not altogether shared by Mrs. Carlyle; but I well remember the
+interest which Lady Ashburton seemed to take in his praise, how my
+enthusiasm seemed to please her, and how Carlyle and his works were
+topics she was never tired of discussing.
+
+The South Western line to Alresford was not then made, and I had to post
+part of the way from London to The Grange.  My chaise companion was a man
+very well known in ‘Society’; and though not remarkably popular, was not
+altogether undistinguished, as the following little tale will attest.
+Frederick Byng, one of the Torrington branch of the Byngs, was chiefly
+famous for his sobriquet ‘The Poodle’; this he owed to no special merit
+of his own, but simply to the accident of his thick curly head of hair.
+Some, who spoke feelingly of the man, used to declare that he had
+fulfilled the promises of his youth.  What happened to him then may
+perhaps justify the opinion.
+
+The young Poodle was addicted to practical jokes—as usual, more amusing
+to the player than to the playee.  One of his victims happened to be Beau
+Brummell, who, except when he bade ‘George ring the bell,’ was as perfect
+a model of deportment as the great Mr. Turveydrop himself.  His studied
+decorum possibly provoked the playfulness of the young puppy; and amongst
+other attempts to disturb the Beau’s complacency, Master Byng ran a pin
+into the calf of that gentleman’s leg, and then he ran away.  A few days
+later Mr. Brummell, who had carefully dissembled his wrath, invited the
+unwary youth to breakfast, telling him that he was leaving town, and had
+a present which his young friend might have, if he chose to fetch it.
+The boy kept the appointment, and the Beau his promise.  After an
+excellent breakfast, Brummell took a whip from his cupboard, and gave it
+to the Poodle in a way the young dog was not likely to forget.
+
+The happiest of my days then, and perhaps of my life, were spent at Mr.
+Ellice’s Highland Lodge, at Glenquoich.  For sport of all kinds it was
+and is difficult to surpass.  The hills of the deer forest are amongst
+the highest in Scotland; the scenery of its lake and glens, especially
+the descent to Loch Hourne, is unequalled.  Here were to be met many of
+the most notable men and women of the time.  And as the house was twenty
+miles from the nearest post-town, and that in turn two days from London,
+visitors ceased to be strangers before they left.  In the eighteen years
+during which this was my autumn home, I had the good fortune to meet
+numbers of distinguished people of whom I could now record nothing
+interesting but their names.  Still, it is a privilege to have known such
+men as John Lawrence, Guizot, Thiers, Landseer, Mérimée, Comte de
+Flahault, Doyle, Lords Elgin and Dalhousie, Duc de Broglie, Pélissier,
+Panizzi, Motley, Delane, Dufferin; and of gifted women, the three
+Sheridans, Lady Seymour—the Queen of Beauty, afterwards Duchess of
+Somerset—Mrs. Norton, and Lady Dufferin.  Amongst those who have a
+retrospective interest were Mr. and Lady Blanche Balfour, parents of Mr.
+Arthur Balfour, who came there on their wedding tour in 1843.  Mr. Arthur
+Balfour’s father was Mrs. Ellice’s first cousin.
+
+It would be easy to lengthen the list; but I mention only those who
+repeated their visits, and who fill up my mental picture of the place and
+of the life.  Some amongst them impressed me quite as much for their
+amiability—their loveableness, I may say—as for their renown; and regard
+for them increased with coming years.  Panizzi was one of these.
+Dufferin, who was just my age, would have fascinated anyone with the
+singular courtesy of his manner.  Dicky Doyle was necessarily a favourite
+with all who knew him.  He was a frequent inmate of my house after I
+married, and was engaged to dine with me, alas! only eight days before he
+died.  Motley was a singularly pleasant fellow.  My friendship with him
+began over a volume of Sir W. Hamilton’s Lectures.  He asked what I was
+reading—I handed him the book.
+
+‘Ah,’ said he, ‘there’s no mental gymnastic like metaphysics.’
+
+Many a battle we afterwards had over them.  When I was at Cannes in 1877
+I got a message from him one day saying he was ill, and asking me to come
+and see him.  He did not say how ill, so I put off going.  Two days after
+I heard he was dead.
+
+Mérimée’s cynicism rather alarmed one.  He was a capital caricaturist,
+though, to our astonishment, he assured us he had never drawn, or used a
+colour-box, till late in life.  He had now learnt to use it, in a way
+that did not invariably give satisfaction.  Landseer always struck me as
+sensitive and proud, a Diogenes-tempered individual who had been spoilt
+by the toadyism of great people.  He was agreeable if made much of, or
+almost equally so if others were made little of.
+
+But of all those named, surely John Lawrence was the greatest.  I wish I
+had read his life before it ended.  Yet, without knowing anything more of
+him than that he was Chief Commissioner of the Punjab, which did not
+convey much to my understanding, one felt the greatness of the man
+beneath his calm simplicity.  One day the party went out for a
+deer-drive; I was instructed to place Sir John in the pass below mine.
+To my disquietude he wore a black overcoat.  I assured him that not a
+stag would come within a mile of us, unless he covered himself with a
+grey plaid, or hid behind a large rock there was, where I assured him he
+would see nothing.
+
+‘Have the deer to pass me before they go on to you?’ he asked.
+
+‘Certainly they have,’ said I; ‘I shall be up there above you.’
+
+‘Well then,’ was his answer, ‘I’ll get behind the rock—it will be more
+snug out of the wind.’
+
+One might as well have asked the deer not to see him, as try to persuade
+John Lawrence not to sacrifice himself for others.  That he did so here
+was certain, for the deer came within fifty yards of him, but he never
+fired a shot.
+
+Another of the Indian viceroys was the innocent occasion of great
+discomfort to me, or rather his wife was.  Lady Elgin had left behind her
+a valuable diamond necklace.  I was going back to my private tutor at Ely
+a few days after, and the necklace was entrusted to me to deliver to its
+owner on my way through London.  There was no railway then further north
+than Darlington, except that between Edinburgh and Glasgow.  When I
+reached Edinburgh by coach from Inverness, my portmanteau was not to be
+found.  The necklace was in a despatch-box in my portmanteau; and by an
+unlucky oversight, I had put my purse into my despatch-box.  What was to
+be done?  I was a lad of seventeen, in a town where I did not know a
+soul, with seven or eight shillings at most in my pocket.  I had to break
+my journey and to stop where I was till I could get news of the necklace;
+this alone was clear to me, for the necklace was the one thing I cared
+for.
+
+At the coach office all the comfort I could get was that the lost luggage
+might have gone on to Glasgow; or, what was more probable, might have
+gone astray at Burntisland.  It might not have been put on board, or it
+might not have been taken off the ferry-steamer.  This could not be known
+for twenty-four hours, as there was no boat to or from Burntisland till
+the morrow.  I decided to try Glasgow.  A return third-class ticket left
+me without a copper.  I went, found nothing, got back to Edinburgh at 10
+P.M., ravenously hungry, dead tired, and so frightened about the necklace
+that food, bed, means of continuing my journey, were as mere death
+compared with irreparable dishonour.  What would they all think of me?
+How could I prove that I had not stolen the diamonds?  Would Lord Elgin
+accuse me?  How could I have been such an idiot as to leave them in my
+portmanteau!  Some rascal might break it open, and then, goodbye to my
+chance for ever!  Chance? what chance was there of seeing that luggage
+again?  There were so many ‘mights.’  I couldn’t even swear that I had
+seen it on the coach at Inverness.  Oh dear! oh dear!  What was to be
+done?  I walked about the streets; I glanced woefully at door-steps,
+whereon to pass the night; I gazed piteously through the windows of a
+cheap cook’s shop, where solid wedges of baked pudding, that would have
+stopped digestion for a month, were advertised for a penny a block.  How
+rich should I have been if I had had a penny in my pocket!  But I had to
+turn away in despair.
+
+At last the inspiration came.  I remembered hearing Mr. Ellice say that
+he always put up at Douglas’ Hotel when he stayed in Edinburgh.  I had
+very little hope of success, but I was too miserable to hesitate.  It was
+very late, and everybody might be gone to bed.  I rang the bell.  ‘I want
+to see the landlord.’
+
+‘Any name?’ the porter asked.
+
+‘No.’  The landlord came, fat, amiable looking.  ‘May I speak to you in
+private?’  He showed the way to an unoccupied room.  ‘I think you know
+Mr. Ellice?’
+
+‘Glenquoich, do you mean?’
+
+‘Yes.’
+
+‘Oh, very well—he always stays here on his way through.’
+
+‘I am his step-son; I left Glenquoich yesterday.  I have lost my luggage,
+and am left without any money.  Will you lend me five pounds?’  I believe
+if I were in the same strait now, and entered any strange hotel in the
+United Kingdom at half-past ten at night, and asked the landlord to give
+me five pounds upon a similar security, he would laugh in my face, or
+perhaps give me in charge of a policeman.
+
+My host of Douglas’ did neither; but opened both his heart and his
+pocket-book, and with the greatest good humour handed me the requested
+sum.  What good people there are in this world, which that crusty old Sir
+Peter Teazle calls ‘a d—d wicked one.’  I poured out all my trouble to
+the generous man.  He ordered me an excellent supper, and a very nice
+room.  And on the following day, after taking a great deal of trouble, he
+recovered my lost luggage and the priceless treasure it contained.  It
+was a proud and happy moment when I returned his loan, and convinced him,
+of what he did not seem to doubt, that I was positively not a swindler.
+
+But the roofless night and the empty belly, consequent on an empty
+pocket, was a lesson which I trust was not thrown away upon me.  It did
+not occur to me to do so, but I certainly might have picked a pocket,
+if—well, if I had been brought up to it.  Honesty, as I have often
+thought since, is dirt cheap if only one can afford it.
+
+Before departing from my beloved Glenquoich, I must pay a passing tribute
+to the remarkable qualities of Mrs. Edward Ellice and of her youngest
+sister Mrs. Robert Ellice, the mother of the present member for St.
+Andrews.  It was, in a great measure, the bright intelligence, the rare
+tact, and social gifts of these two ladies that made this beautiful
+Highland resort so attractive to all comers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+THE winter of 1854–55 I spent in Rome.  Here I made the acquaintance of
+Leighton, then six-and-twenty.  I saw a good deal of him, as I lived
+almost entirely amongst the artists, taking lessons myself in water
+colours of Leitch.  Music also brought us into contact.  He had a
+beautiful voice, and used to sing a good deal with Mrs. Sartoris—Adelaide
+Kemble—whom he greatly admired, and whose portrait is painted under a
+monk’s cowl, in the Cimabue procession.
+
+Calling on him one morning, I found him on his knees buttering and
+rolling up this great picture, preparatory to sending it to the Academy.
+I made some remark about its unusual size, saying with a sceptical smile,
+‘It will take up a lot of room.’
+
+‘If they ever hang it,’ he replied; ‘but there’s not much chance of
+that.’
+
+Seeing that his reputation was yet to win, it certainly seemed a bold
+venture to make so large a demand for space to begin with.  He did not
+appear the least sanguine.  But it was accepted; and Prince Albert bought
+it before the Exhibition opened.
+
+Gibson also I saw much of.  He had executed a large alto-rilievo monument
+of my mother, which is now in my parish church, and the model of which is
+on the landing of one of the staircases of the National Gallery.  His
+studio was always an interesting lounge, for he was ever ready to lecture
+upon antique marbles.  To listen to him was like reading the ‘Laocoon,’
+which he evidently had at his fingers’ ends.  My companion through the
+winter was Mr. Reginald Cholmondeley, a Cambridge ally, who was studying
+painting.  He was the uncle of Miss Cholmondeley the well-known
+authoress, whose mother, by the way, was a first cousin of George
+Cayley’s, and also a great friend of mine.
+
+On my return to England I took up my abode in Dean’s Yard, and shared a
+house there with Mr. Cayley, the Yorkshire member, and his two sons, the
+eldest a barrister, and my friend George.  Here for several years we had
+exceedingly pleasant gatherings of men more or less distinguished in
+literature and art.  Tennyson was a frequent visitor—coming late, after
+dinner hours, to smoke his pipe.  He varied a good deal, sometimes not
+saying a word, but quietly listening to our chatter.  Thackeray also used
+to drop in occasionally.
+
+George Cayley and I, with the assistance of his father and others, had
+started a weekly paper called ‘The Realm.’  It was professedly a currency
+paper, and also supported a fiscal policy advocated by Mr. Cayley and
+some of his parliamentary clique.  Coming in one day, and finding us hard
+at work, Thackeray asked for information.  We handed him a copy of the
+paper.  ‘Ah,’ he exclaimed, with mock solemnity, ‘“The Rellum,” should be
+printed on vellum.’  He too, like Tennyson, was variable.  But this
+depended on whom he found.  In the presence of a stranger he was grave
+and silent.  He would never venture on puerile jokes like this of his
+‘Rellum’—a frequent playfulness, when at his ease, which contrasted so
+unexpectedly with his impenetrable exterior.  He was either gauging the
+unknown person, or feeling that he was being gauged.  Monckton Milnes was
+another.  Seeing me correcting some proof sheets, he said, ‘Let me give
+you a piece of advice, my young friend.  Write as much as you please, but
+the less you print the better.’
+
+‘For me, or for others?’
+
+‘For both.’
+
+George Cayley had a natural gift for, and had acquired considerable
+skill, in the embossing and working of silver ware.  Millais so admired
+his art that he commissioned him to make a large tea-tray; Millais
+provided the silver.  Round the border of the tray were beautifully
+modelled sea-shells, cray-fish, crabs, and fish of quaint forms, in high
+relief.  Millais was so pleased with the work that he afterwards painted,
+and presented to Cayley, a fine portrait in his best style of Cayley’s
+son, a boy of six or seven years old.
+
+Laurence Oliphant was one of George Cayley’s friends.  Attractive as he
+was in many ways, I had little sympathy with his religious opinions, nor
+did I comprehend Oliphant’s exalted inspirations; I failed to see their
+practical bearing, and, at that time I am sorry to say, looked upon him
+as an amiable faddist.  A special favourite with both of us was William
+Stirling of Keir.  His great work on the Spanish painters, and his
+‘Cloister Life of Charles the Fifth,’ excited our unbounded admiration,
+while his _bonhomie_ and radiant humour were a delight we were always
+eager to welcome.
+
+George Cayley and I now entered at Lincoln’s Inn.  At the end of three
+years he was duly called to the Bar.  I was not; for alas, as usual,
+something ‘turned up,’ which drew me in another direction.  For a couple
+of years, however, I ‘ate’ my terms—not unfrequently with William
+Harcourt, with whom Cayley had a Yorkshire intimacy even before our
+Cambridge days.
+
+Old Mr. Cayley, though not the least strait-laced, was a religious man.
+A Unitarian by birth and conviction, he began and ended the day with
+family prayers.  On Sundays he would always read to us, or make us read
+to him, a sermon of Channing’s, or of Theodore Parker’s, or what we all
+liked better, one of Frederick Robertson’s.  He was essentially a good
+man.  He had been in Parliament all his life, and was a broad-minded,
+tolerant, philosophical man-of-the-world.  He had a keen sense of humour,
+and was rather sarcastical; but, for all that, he was sensitively
+earnest, and conscientious.  I had the warmest affection and respect for
+him.  Such a character exercised no small influence upon our conduct and
+our opinions, especially as his approval or disapproval of these visibly
+affected his own happiness.
+
+He was never easy unless he was actively engaged in some benevolent
+scheme, the promotion of some charity, or in what he considered his
+parliamentary duties, which he contrived to make very burdensome to his
+conscience.  As his health was bad, these self-imposed obligations were
+all the more onerous; but he never spared himself, or his somewhat scanty
+means.  Amongst other minor tasks, he used to teach at the Sunday-school
+of St. John’s, Westminster; in this he persuaded me to join him.  The
+only other volunteer, not a clergyman, was Page Wood—a great friend of
+Mr. Cayley’s—afterwards Lord Chancellor Hatherley.  In spite of Mr.
+Cayley’s Unitarianism, like Frederick the Great, he was all for letting
+people ‘go to Heaven in their own way,’ and was moreover quite ready to
+help them in their own way.  So that he had no difficulty in hearing the
+boys repeat the day’s collect, or the Creed, even if Athanasian, in
+accordance with the prescribed routine of the clerical teachers.
+
+This was right, at all events for him, if he thought it right.  My spirit
+of nonconformity did not permit me to follow his example.  Instead
+thereof, my teaching was purely secular.  I used to take a volume of Mrs.
+Marcet’s ‘Conversations’ in my pocket; and with the aid of the diagrams,
+explain the application of the mechanical forces,—the inclined plane, the
+screw, the pulley, the wedge, and the lever.  After two or three Sundays
+my class was largely increased, for the children keenly enjoyed their
+competitive examinations.  I would also give them bits of poetry to get
+by heart for the following Sunday—lines from Gray’s ‘Elegy,’ from
+Wordsworth, from Pope’s ‘Essay on Man’—such in short as had a moral
+rather than a religious tendency.
+
+After some weeks of this, the boys becoming clamorous in their zeal to
+correct one another, one of the curates left his class to hear what was
+going on in mine.  We happened at the moment to be dealing with
+geography.  The curate, evidently shocked, went away and brought another
+curate.  Then the two together departed, and brought back the rector—Dr.
+Jennings, one of the Westminster Canons—a most kind and excellent man.  I
+went on as if unconscious of the censorship, the boys exerting themselves
+all the more eagerly for the sake of the ‘gallery.’  When the hour was
+up, Canon Jennings took me aside, and in the most polite manner thanked
+me for my ‘valuable assistance,’ but did not think that the ‘Essay on
+Man,’ or especially geography, was suited for the teaching in a
+Sunday-school.  I told him I knew it was useless to contend with so high
+a canonical authority; personally I did not see the impiety of geography,
+but then, as he already knew, I was a confirmed latitudinarian.  He
+clearly did not see the joke, but intimated that my services would
+henceforth be dispensed with.
+
+Of course I was wrong, though I did not know it then, for it must be
+borne in mind that there were no Board Schools in those days, and general
+education, amongst the poor, was deplorably deficient.  At first, my idea
+was to give the children (they were all boys) a taste for the
+‘humanities,’ which might afterwards lead to their further pursuit.  I
+assumed that on the Sunday they would be thinking of the baked meats
+awaiting them when church was over, or of their week-day tops and
+tipcats; but I was equally sure that a time would come when these would
+be forgotten, and the other things remembered.  The success was greater
+from the beginning than could be looked for; and some years afterwards I
+had reason to hope that the forecast was not altogether too sanguine.
+
+While the Victoria Tower was being built, I stopped one day to watch the
+masons chiselling the blocks of stone.  Presently one of them, in a
+flannel jacket and a paper cap, came and held out his hand to me.  He was
+a handsome young fellow with a big black beard and moustache, both
+powdered with his chippings.
+
+‘You don’t remember me, sir, do you?’
+
+‘Did I ever see you before?’
+
+‘My name is Richards; don’t you remember, sir?  I was one of the boys you
+used to teach at the Sunday-school.  It gave me a turn for mechanics,
+which I followed up; and that’s how I took to this trade.  I’m a master
+mason now, sir; and the whole of this lot is under me.’
+
+‘I wonder what you would have been,’ said I, ‘if we’d stuck to the
+collects?’
+
+‘I don’t think I should have had a hand in this little job,’ he answered,
+looking up with pride at the mighty tower, as though he had a creative
+share in its construction.
+
+All this while I was working hard at my own education, and trying to make
+up for the years I had wasted (so I thought of them), by knocking about
+the world.  I spent laborious days and nights in reading, dabbling in
+geology, chemistry, physiology, metaphysics, and what not.  On the score
+of dogmatic religion I was as restless as ever.  I had an insatiable
+thirst for knowledge; but was without guidance.  I wanted to learn
+everything; and, not knowing in what direction to concentrate my efforts,
+learnt next to nothing.  All knowledge seemed to me equally important,
+for all bore alike upon the great problems of belief and of existence.
+But what to pursue, what to relinquish, appeared to me an unanswerable
+riddle.  Difficult as this puzzle was, I did not know then that a long
+life’s experience would hardly make it simpler.  The man who has to earn
+his bread must fain resolve to adapt his studies to that end.  His choice
+not often rests with him.  But the unfortunate being cursed in youth with
+the means of idleness, yet without genius, without talents even, is
+terribly handicapped and perplexed.
+
+And now, with life behind me, how should I advise another in such a
+plight?  When a young lady, thus embarrassed, wrote to Carlyle for
+counsel, he sympathetically bade her ‘put her drawers in order.’
+
+Here is the truth to be faced at the outset: ‘Man has but the choice to
+go a little way in many paths, or a great way in only one.’  ‘Tis thus
+John Mill puts it.  Which will he, which should he, choose?  Both courses
+lead alike to incompleteness.  The universal man is no specialist, and
+has to generalise without his details.  The specialist sees only through
+his microscope, and knows about as much of cosmology as does his microbe.
+Goethe, the most comprehensive of Seers, must needs expose his
+incompleteness by futile attempts to disprove Newton’s theory of colour.
+Newton must needs expose his, by a still more lamentable attempt to prove
+the Apocalypse as true as his own discovery of the laws of gravitation.
+All science nowadays is necessarily confined to experts.  Without
+illustrating the fact by invidious hints, I invite anyone to consider the
+intellectual cost to the world which such limitation entails; nor is the
+loss merely negative; the specialist is unfortunately too often a bigot,
+when beyond his contracted sphere.
+
+This, you will say, is arguing in a circle.  The universal must be given
+up for the detail, the detail for the universal; we leave off where we
+began.  Yes, that is the dilemma.  Still, the gain to science through a
+devotion of a whole life to a mere group of facts, in a single branch of
+a single science, may be an incalculable acquisition to human knowledge,
+to the intellectual capital of the race—a gain that sometimes far
+outweighs the loss.  Even if we narrow the question to the destiny of the
+individual, the sacrifice of each one for the good of the whole is
+doubtless the highest aim the one can have.
+
+But this conclusion scarcely helps us; for remember, the option is not
+given to all.  Genius, or talent, or special aptitude, is a necessary
+equipment for such an undertaking.  Great discoverers must be great
+observers, dexterous manipulators, ingenious contrivers, and patient
+thinkers.
+
+The difficulty we started with was, what you and I, my friend, who
+perhaps have to row in the same boat, and perhaps ‘with the same sculls,’
+without any of these provisions, what we should do?  What point of the
+compass should we steer for?  ‘Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it
+with thy might.’  Truly there could be no better advice.  But the
+‘finding’ is the puzzle; and like the search for truth it must, I fear,
+be left to each one’s power to do it.  And then—and then the countless
+thousands who have the leisure without the means—who have hands at least,
+and yet no work to put them to—what is to be done for these?  Not in your
+time or mine, dear friend, will that question be answered.  For this, I
+fear we must wait till by the ‘universal law of adaptation’ we reach ‘the
+ultimate development of the ideal man.’  ‘Colossal optimism,’ exclaims
+the critic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+IN February, 1855, Roebuck moved for a select committee to inquire into
+the condition of the Army before Sebastopol.  Lord John Russell, who was
+leader of the House, treated this as a vote of censure, and resigned.
+Lord Palmerston resisted Roebuck’s motion, and generously defended the
+Government he was otherwise opposed to.  But the motion was carried by a
+majority of 157, and Lord Aberdeen was turned out of office.  The Queen
+sent for Lord Derby, but without Lord Palmerston he was unable to form a
+Ministry.  Lord John was then appealed to, with like results; and the
+premiership was practically forced upon Palmerston, in spite of his
+unpopularity at Court.  Mr. Horsman was made Chief Secretary for Ireland;
+and through Mr. Ellice I became his private secretary.
+
+Before I went to the Irish Office I was all but a stranger to my chief.
+I had met him occasionally in the tennis court; but the net was always
+between us.  He was a man with a great deal of manner, but with very
+little of what the French call ‘conviction.’  Nothing keeps people at a
+distance more effectually than simulated sincerity; Horsman was a master
+of the art.  I was profoundly ignorant of my duties.  But though this was
+a great inconvenience to me at first, it led to a friendship which I
+greatly prized until its tragic end.  For all information as to the
+writers of letters, as to Irish Members who applied for places for
+themselves, or for others, I had to consult the principal clerk.  He was
+himself an Irishman of great ability; and though young, was either
+personally or officially acquainted, so it seemed to me, with every
+Irishman in the House of Commons, or out of it.  His name is too well
+known—it was Thomas Bourke, afterwards Under Secretary, and one of the
+victims of the Fenian assassins in the Phœnix Park.  His patience and
+amiability were boundless; and under his guidance I soon learnt the
+tricks of my trade.
+
+During the session we remained in London; and for some time it was of
+great interest to listen to the debates.  When Irish business was before
+the House, I had often to be in attendance on my chief in the reporters’
+gallery.  Sometimes I had to wait there for an hour or two before our
+questions came on, and thus had many opportunities of hearing Bright,
+Gladstone, Disraeli, and all the leading speakers.  After a time the
+pleasure, when compulsory, began to pall; and I used to wonder what on
+earth could induce the ruck to waste their time in following, sheeplike,
+their bell-wethers, or waste their money in paying for that honour.  When
+Parliament was up we moved to Dublin.  I lived with Horsman in the Chief
+Secretary’s lodge.  And as I had often stayed at Castle Howard before
+Lord Carlisle became Viceroy, between the two lodges I saw a great deal
+of pleasant society.
+
+Amongst those who came to stay with Horsman was Sidney Herbert, then
+Colonial Secretary, a man of singular nobility of nature.  Another
+celebrity for the day, but of a very different character, was Lord
+Cardigan.  He had just returned from the Crimea, and was now in command
+of the forces in Ireland.  This was about six months after the Balaklava
+charge.  Horsman asked him one evening to give a description of it, with
+a plan of the battle.  His Lordship did so; no words could be more suited
+to the deed.  If this was ‘pell-mell, havock, and confusion,’ the account
+of it was proportionately confounded.  The noble leader scrawled and
+inked and blotted all the phases of the battle upon the same scrap of
+paper, till the batteries were at the starting-point of the charge, the
+Light Brigade on the far side of the guns, and all the points of the
+compass, attack and defence, had changed their original places; in fact,
+the gallant Earl brandished his pen as valiantly as he had his sword.
+When quite bewildered, like everybody else, I ventured mildly to ask,
+‘But where were you, Lord Cardigan, and where were our men when it came
+to this?’
+
+‘Where?  Where?  God bless my soul!  How should I know where anybody
+was?’  And this, no doubt, described the situation to a nicety.
+
+My office was in the Castle, and the next room to mine was that of the
+Solicitor-General Keogh, afterwards Judge.  We became the greatest of
+friends.  It was one of Horsman’s peculiarities to do business
+circuitously.  He was fond of mysteries and of secrets, secrets that were
+to be kept from everyone, but which were generally known to the office
+messengers.  When Keogh and I met in the morning he would say, with
+admirable imitation of Horsman’s manner, ‘Well, it is all settled; the
+Viceroy has considered the question, and has decided to act upon my
+advice.  Mind you don’t tell anyone—it is a profound secret,’ then,
+lowering his voice and looking round the room, ‘His Excellency has
+consented to score at the next cricket match between the garrison and the
+Civil Service.’  If it were a constabulary appointment, or even a village
+post-office, the Attorney or the Solicitor-General would be strictly
+enjoined not to inform me, and I received similar injunctions respecting
+them.  In spite of his apparent attention to details, Mr. Horsman hunted
+three days a week, and stated in the House of Commons that the office of
+Chief Secretary was a farce, meaning when excluded from the Cabinet.  All
+I know is, that his private secretary was constantly at work an hour
+before breakfast by candle-light, and never got a single day’s holiday
+throughout the winter.
+
+Horsman had hired a shooting—Balnaboth in Scotland; here, too, I had to
+attend upon him in the autumn, mainly for the purpose of copying
+voluminous private correspondence about a sugar estate he owned at
+Singapore, then producing a large income, but the subsequent failure of
+which was his ruin.  One year Sir Alexander Cockburn, the Lord Chief
+Justice, came to stay with him; and excellent company he was.  Horsman
+had sometimes rather an affected way of talking; and referring to some
+piece of political news, asked Cockburn whether he had seen it in the
+‘Courier.’  This he pronounced with an accent on the last syllable, like
+the French ‘Courrier.’  Cockburn, with a slight twinkle in his eye,
+answered in his quiet way, ‘No, I didn’t see it in the “Courrier,”
+perhaps it is in the “Morning Post,”’ also giving the French
+pronunciation to the latter word.
+
+Sir Alexander told us an amusing story about Disraeli.  He and Bernal
+Osborne were talking together about Mrs. Disraeli, when presently
+Osborne, with characteristic effrontery, exclaimed: ‘My dear Dizzy, how
+could you marry such a woman?’  The answer was; ‘My dear Bernal, you
+never knew what gratitude was, or you would not ask the question.’
+
+The answer was a gracious one, and doubtless sincere.  But, despite his
+cynicism, no one could be more courteous or say prettier things than
+Disraeli.  Here is a little story that was told me at the time by my
+sister-in-law, who was a woman of the bedchamber, and was present on the
+occasion.  When her Majesty Queen Alexandra was suffering from an
+accident to her knee, and had to use crutches, Disraeli said to her: ‘I
+have heard of a devil on two sticks, but never before knew an angel to
+use them.’
+
+Keogh, Bourke, and I, made several pleasant little excursions to such
+places as Bray, the Seven Churches, Powerscourt, &c., and, with a chosen
+car-driver, the wit and fun of the three clever Irishmen was no small
+treat.  The last time I saw either of my two friends was at a
+dinner-party which Bourke gave at the ‘Windham.’  We were only four, to
+make up a whist party; the fourth was Fred Clay, the composer.  It is sad
+to reflect that two of the lot came to violent ends—Keogh, the cheeriest
+of men in society, by his own hands.  Bourke I had often spoken to of the
+danger he ran in crossing the Phœnix Park nightly on his way home, on
+foot and unarmed.  He laughed at me, and rather indignantly—for he was a
+very vain man, though one of the most good-natured fellows in the world.
+In the first place, he prided himself on his physique—he was a tall,
+well-built, handsome man, and a good boxer and fencer to boot.  In the
+next place, he prided himself above all things on being a thorough-bred
+Irishman, with a sneaking sympathy with even Fenian grievances.  ‘They
+all know _me_,’ he would say.  ‘The rascals know I’m the best friend they
+have.  I’m the last man in the world they’d harm, for political reasons.
+Anyway, I can take care of myself.’  And so it was he fell.
+
+The end of Horsman’s secretaryship is soon told.  A bishopric became
+vacant, and almost as much intrigue was set agoing as we read of in the
+wonderful story of ‘L’Anneau d’Améthyste.’  Horsman, at all times a
+profuse letter-writer, wrote folios to Lord Palmerston on the subject,
+each letter more exuberant, more urgent than the last.  But no answer
+came.  Finally, the whole Irish vote, according to the Chief Secretary,
+being at stake—not to mention the far more important matter of personal
+and official dignity—Horsman flew off to London, boiling over with
+impatience and indignation.  He rushed to 10 Downing Street.  His
+Lordship was at the Foreign office, but was expected every minute; would
+Mr. Horsman wait?  Mr. Horsman was shown into his Lordship’s room.  Piles
+of letters, opened and unopened, were lying upon the table.  The Chief
+Secretary recognised his own signatures on the envelopes of a large
+bundle, all amongst the ‘un’s.’  The Premier came in, an explanation
+_extrêmement vive_ followed; on his return to Dublin Mr. Horsman resigned
+his post, and from that moment became one of Lord Palmerston’s bitterest
+opponents.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+THE lectures at the Royal Institution were of some help to me.  I
+attended courses by Owen, Tyndall, Huxley, and Bain.  Of these, Huxley
+was _facile princeps_, though both Owen and Tyndall were second to no
+other.  Bain was disappointing.  I was a careful student of his books,
+and always admired the logical lucidity of his writing.  But to the mixed
+audience he had to lecture to—fashionable young ladies in their teens,
+and drowsy matrons in charge of them, he discreetly kept clear of
+transcendentals.  In illustration perhaps of some theory of the relation
+of the senses to the intellect, he would tell an amusing anecdote of a
+dog that had had an injured leg dressed at a certain house, after which
+the recovered dog brought a canine friend to the same house to have his
+leg—or tail—repaired.  Out would come all the tablets and pretty pencil
+cases, and every young lady would be busy for the rest of the lecture in
+recording the marvellous history.  If the dog’s name had been ‘Spot’ or
+‘Bob,’ the important psychological fact would have been faithfully
+registered.  As to the theme of the discourse, that had nothing to do
+with—millinery.  And Mr. Bain doubtless did not overlook the fact.
+
+Owen was an accomplished lecturer; but one’s attention to him depended on
+two things—a primary interest in the subject, and some elementary
+acquaintance with it.  If, for example, his subject were the comparative
+anatomy of the cycloid and ganoid fishes, the difference in their scales
+was scarcely of vital importance to one’s general culture.  But if he
+were lecturing on fish, he would stick to fish; it would be essentially a
+_jour maigre_.
+
+With Huxley, the suggestion was worth more than the thing said.  One
+thought of it afterwards, and wondered whether his words implied all they
+seemed to imply.  One knew that the scientist was also a philosopher; and
+one longed to get at him, at the man himself, and listen to the lessons
+which his work had taught him.  At one of these lectures I had the honour
+of being introduced to him by a great friend of mine, John Marshall, then
+President of the College of Surgeons.  In later years I used to meet him
+constantly at the Athenæum.
+
+Looking back to the days of one’s plasticity, two men are pre-eminent
+among my Dii Majores.  To John Stuart Mill and to Thomas Huxley I owe
+more, educationally, than to any other teachers.  Mill’s logic was simply
+a revelation to me.  For what Kant calls ‘discipline,’ I still know no
+book, unless it be the ‘Critique’ itself, equal to it.  But perhaps it is
+the men themselves, their earnestness, their splendid courage, their
+noble simplicity, that most inspired one with reverence.  It was Huxley’s
+aim to enlighten the many, and he enlightened them.  It was Mill’s lot to
+help thinkers, and he helped them.  _Sapere aude_ was the motto of both.
+How few there are who dare to adopt it!  To love truth is valiantly
+professed by all; but to pursue it at all costs, to ‘dare to be wise’
+needs daring of the highest order.
+
+Mill had the enormous advantage, to start with, of an education unbiassed
+by any theological creed; and he brought exceptional powers of abstract
+reasoning to bear upon matters of permanent and supreme importance to all
+men.  Yet, in spite of his ruthless impartiality, I should not hesitate
+to call him a religious man.  This very tendency which no imaginative
+mind, no man or woman with any strain of poetical feeling, can be
+without, invests Mill’s character with a clash of humanity which entitles
+him to a place in our affections.  It is in this respect that he so
+widely differs from Mr. Herbert Spencer.  Courageous Mr. Spencer was, but
+his courage seems to have been due almost as much to absence of sympathy
+or kinship with his fellow-creatures, and to his contempt of their
+opinions, as from his dispassionate love of truth, or his sometimes
+passionate defence of his own tenets.
+
+My friend Napier told me an amusing little story about John Mill when he
+was in the East India Company’s administration.  Mr. Macvey Napier, my
+friend’s elder brother, was the senior clerk.  On John Mill’s retirement,
+his co-officials subscribed to present him with a silver standish.  Such
+was the general sense of Mill’s modest estimate of his own deserts, and
+of his aversion to all acknowledgment of them, that Mr. Napier, though it
+fell to his lot, begged others to join in the ceremony of presentation.
+All declined; the inkstand was left upon Mill’s table when he himself was
+out of the room.
+
+Years after the time of which I am writing, when Mill stood for
+Westminster, I had the good fortune to be on the platform at St. James’s
+Hall, next but one to him, when he made his first speech to the electors.
+He was completely unknown to the public, and, though I worshipped the
+man, I had never seen him, nor had an idea what he looked like.  To
+satisfy my curiosity I tried to get a portrait of him at the photographic
+shop in Regent Street.
+
+‘I want a photograph of Mr. Mill.’
+
+‘Mill?  Mill?’ repeated the shopman, ‘Oh yes, sir, I know—a great
+sporting gent,’ and he produced the portrait of a sportsman in top boots
+and a hunting cap.
+
+Very different from this was the figure I then saw.  The hall and the
+platform were crowded.  Where was the principal personage?  Presently,
+quite alone, up the side steps, and unobserved, came a thin but tallish
+man in black, with a tail coat, and, almost unrecognised, took the vacant
+front seat.  He might have been, so far as dress went, a clerk in a
+counting-house, or an undertaker.  But the face was no ordinary one.  The
+wide brow, the sharp nose of the Burke type, the compressed lips and
+strong chin, were suggestive of intellect and of suppressed emotion.
+There was no applause, for nothing was known to the crowd, even of his
+opinions, beyond the fact that he was the Liberal candidate for
+Westminster.  He spoke with perfect ease to himself, never faltering for
+the right word, which seemed to be always at his command.  If interrupted
+by questions, as he constantly was, his answers could not have been
+amended had he written them.  His voice was not strong, and there were
+frequent calls from the far end to ‘speak up, speak up; we can’t hear
+you.’  He did not raise his pitch a note.  They might as well have tried
+to bully an automaton.  He was doing his best, and he could do no more.
+Then, when, instead of the usual adulations, instead of declamatory
+appeals to the passions of a large and a mixed assembly, he gave them to
+understand, in very plain language, that even socialists are not
+infallible,—that extreme and violent opinions, begotten of ignorance, do
+not constitute the highest political wisdom; then there were murmurs of
+dissent and disapproval.  But if the ignorant and the violent could have
+stoned him, his calm manner would still have said, ‘Strike, but hear me.’
+
+Mr. Robert Grosvenor—the present Lord Ebury—then the other Liberal member
+for Westminster, wrote to ask me to take the chair at Mill’s first
+introduction to the Pimlico electors.  Such, however, was my admiration
+of Mill, I did not feel sure that I might not say too much in his favour;
+and mindful of the standish incident, I knew, that if I did so, it would
+embarrass and annoy him.
+
+Under these circumstances I declined the honour.
+
+When Owen was delivering a course of lectures at Norwich, my brother
+invited him to Holkham.  I was there, and we took several long walks
+together.  Nothing seemed to escape his observation.  My brother had just
+completed the recovery of many hundred acres of tidal marsh by
+embankments.  Owen, who was greatly interested, explained what would be
+the effect upon the sandiest portion of this, in years to come; what the
+chemical action of the rain would be, how the sand would eventually
+become soil, how vegetation would cover it, and how manure render it
+cultivable.  The splendid crops now grown there bear testimony to his
+foresight.  He had always something instructive to impart, stopping to
+contemplate trifles which only a Zadig would have noticed.
+
+‘I observe,’ said he one day, ‘that your prevailing wind here is
+north-west.’
+
+‘How do you know?’ I asked.
+
+‘Look at the roots of all these trees; the large roots are invariably on
+the north-west side.  This means that the strain comes on this side.  The
+roots which have to bear it loosen the soil, and the loosened soil
+favours the extension and the growth of the roots.  Nature is beautifully
+scientific.’
+
+Some years after this, I published a book called ‘Creeds of the Day.’  My
+purpose was to show, in a popular form, the bearings of science and
+speculative thought upon the religious creeds of the time.  I sent Owen a
+copy of the work.  He wrote me one of the most interesting letters I ever
+received.  He had bought the book, and had read it.  But the important
+content of the letter was the confession of his own faith.  I have
+purposely excluded all correspondence from these Memoirs, but had it not
+been that a forgotten collector of autographs had captured it, I should
+have been tempted to make an exception in its favour.  The tone was
+agnostic; but timidly agnostic.  He had never freed himself from the
+shackles of early prepossessions.  He had not the necessary daring to
+clear up his doubts.  Sometimes I fancy that it was this difference in
+the two men that lay at the bottom of the unfortunate antagonism between
+Owen and Huxley.  There is in Owen’s writing, where he is not purely
+scientific, a touch of the apologist.  He cannot quite make up his mind
+to follow evolution to its logical conclusions.  Where he is forced to do
+so, it is to him like signing the death warrant of his dearest friend.
+It must not be forgotten that Owen was born more than twenty years before
+Huxley; and great as was the offence of free-thinking in Huxley’s youth,
+it was nothing short of anathema in Owen’s.  When I met him at Holkham,
+the ‘Origin of Species’ had not been published; and Napier and I did all
+we could to get Owen to express some opinion on Lamarck’s theory, for he
+and I used to talk confidentially on this fearful heresy even then.  But
+Owen was ever on his guard.  He evaded our questions and changed the
+subject.
+
+Whenever I pass near the South Kensington Museum I step aside to look at
+the noble statues of the two illustrious men.  A mere glance at them, and
+we appreciate at once their respective characters.  In the one we see
+passive wisdom, in the other militant force.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+BEFORE I went to America, I made the acquaintance of Dr. George Bird; he
+continued to be one of my most intimate friends till his death, fifty
+years afterwards.  When I first knew him, Bird was the medical adviser
+and friend of Leigh Hunt, whose family I used often to meet at his house.
+He had been dependent entirely upon his own exertions; had married young;
+and had had a pretty hard fight at starting to provide for his children
+and for himself.  His energy, his abilities, his exceeding amiability,
+and remarkable social qualities, gradually procured him a large practice
+and hosts of devoted friends.  He began looking for the season for
+sprats—the cheapest of fish—to come in; by middle life he was habitually
+and sumptuously entertaining the celebrities of art and literature.  With
+his accomplished sister, Miss Alice Bird, to keep house for him, there
+were no pleasanter dinner parties or receptions in London.  His
+_clientèle_ was mainly amongst the artistic world.  He was a great friend
+of Miss Ellen Terry’s, Mr. Marcus Stone and his sisters were frequenters
+of his house, so were Mr. Swinburne, Mr. Woolner the sculptor—of whom I
+was not particularly fond—Horace Wigan the actor, and his father, the
+Burtons, who were much attached to him—Burton dedicated one volume of his
+‘Arabian Nights’ to him—Sir William Crookes, Mr. Justin Macarthy and his
+talented son, and many others.
+
+The good doctor was a Radical and Home Ruler, and attended professionally
+the members of one or two labouring men’s clubs for fees which, as far as
+I could learn, were rigorously nominal.  His great delight was to get an
+order for the House of Commons, especially on nights when Mr. Gladstone
+spoke; and, being to the last day of his life as simple-minded as a
+child, had a profound belief in the statemanship and integrity of that
+renowned orator.
+
+As far as personality goes, the Burtons were, perhaps, the most notable
+of the above-named.  There was a mystery about Burton which was in itself
+a fascination.  No one knew what he had done; or consequently what he
+might not do.  He never boasted, never hinted that he had done, or could
+do, anything different from other men; and, in spite of the mystery, one
+felt that he was transparently honest and sincere.  He was always the
+same, always true to himself; but then, that ‘self’ was a something _per
+se_, which could not be categorically classed—precedent for guidance was
+lacking.  There is little doubt Burton had gipsy blood in his veins;
+there was something Oriental in his temperament, and even in his skin.
+
+One summer’s day I found him reading the paper in the Athenæum.  He was
+dressed in a complete suit of white—white trousers, a white linen coat,
+and a very shabby old white hat.  People would have stared at him
+anywhere.
+
+‘Hullo, Burton!’ I exclaimed, touching his linen coat, ‘Do you find it so
+hot—_déjà_?’
+
+Said he: ‘I don’t want to be mistaken for other people.’
+
+‘There’s not much fear of that, even without your clothes,’ I replied.
+
+Such an impromptu answer as his would, from any other, have implied
+vanity.  Yet no man could have been less vain, or more free from
+affectation.  It probably concealed regret at finding himself
+conspicuous.
+
+After dinner at the Birds’ one evening we fell to talking of garrotters.
+About this time the police reports were full of cases of garrotting.  The
+victim was seized from behind, one man gagged or burked him, while
+another picked his pocket.
+
+‘What should you do, Burton?’ the Doctor asked, ‘if they tried to
+garrotte you?’
+
+‘I’m quite ready for ’em,’ was the answer; and turning up his sleeve he
+partially pulled out a dagger, and shoved it back again.
+
+We tried to make him tell us what became of the Arab boy who accompanied
+him to Mecca, and whose suspicions threatened Burton’s betrayal, and, of
+consequence, his life.  I don’t think anyone was present except us two,
+both of whom he well knew to be quite shock-proof, but he held his
+tongue.
+
+‘You would have been perfectly justified in saving your own life at any
+cost.  You would hardly have broken the sixth commandment by doing so in
+this case,’ I suggested.
+
+‘No,’ said he gravely, ‘and as I had broken all the ten before, it
+wouldn’t have so much mattered.’
+
+The Doctor roared.  It should, however, be stated that Burton took no
+less delight in his host’s boyish simplicity, than the other in what he
+deemed his guest’s superb candour.
+
+‘Come, tell us,’ said Bird, ‘how many men have you killed?’
+
+‘How many have you, Doctor?’ was the answer.
+
+Richard Burton was probably the most extraordinary linguist of his day.
+Lady Burton mentions, I think, in his Life, the number of languages and
+dialects her husband knew.  That Mahometans should seek instruction from
+him in the Koran, speaks of itself for his astonishing mastery of the
+greatest linguistic difficulties.  With Indian languages and their
+variations, he was as completely at home as Miss Youghal’s Sais; and, one
+may suppose, could have played the _rôle_ of a fakir as perfectly as he
+did that of a Mecca pilgrim.  I asked him what his method was in learning
+a fresh language.  He said he wrote down as many new words as he could
+learn and remember each day; and learnt the construction of the language
+colloquially, before he looked at a grammar.
+
+Lady Burton was hardly less abnormal in her way than Sir Richard.  She
+had shared his wanderings, and was intimate, as no one else was, with the
+eccentricities of his thoughts and deeds.  Whatever these might happen to
+be, she worshipped her husband notwithstanding.  For her he was the
+standard of excellence; all other men were departures from it.  And the
+singularity is, her religious faith was never for an instant shaken—she
+remained as strict a Roman Catholic as when he married her from a
+convent.  Her enthusiasm and cosmopolitanism, her _naïveté_ and the
+sweetness of her disposition made her the best of company.  She had lived
+so much the life of a Bedouin, that her dress and her habits had an
+Eastern glow.  When staying with the Birds, she was attended by an Arab
+girl, one of whose duties it was to prepare her mistress’ chibouk, which
+was regularly brought in with the coffee.  On one occasion, when several
+other ladies were dining there, some of them yielded to Lady Burton’s
+persuasion to satisfy their curiosity.  The Arab girl soon provided the
+means; and it was not long before there were four or five faces as white
+as Mrs. Alfred Wigan’s, under similar circumstances, in the ‘Nabob.’
+
+Alfred Wigan’s father was an unforgettable man.  To describe him in a
+word, he was Falstag _redivivus_.  In bulk and stature, in age, in wit
+and humour, and morality, he was Falstaff.  He knew it and gloried in it.
+He would complain with zest of ‘larding the lean earth’ as he walked
+along.  He was as partial to whisky as his prototype to sack.  He would
+exhaust a Johnsonian vocabulary in describing his ailments; and would
+appeal pathetically to Miss Bird, as though at his last gasp, for ‘just a
+tea-spoonful’ of the grateful stimulant.  She served him with a liberal
+hand, till he cried ‘Stop!’  But if she then stayed, he would softly
+insinuate ‘I didn’t mean it, my dear.’  Yet he was no Costigan.  His
+brain was stronger than casks of whisky.  And his powers of digestion
+were in keeping.  Indeed, to borrow the well-known words applied to a
+great man whom we all love, ‘He tore his dinner like a famished wolf,
+with the veins swelling in his forehead, and the perspiration running
+down his cheeks.’  The trend of his thoughts, though he was eminently a
+man of intellect, followed the dictates of his senses.  Walk with him in
+the fields and, from the full stores of a prodigious memory, he would
+pour forth pages of the choicest poetry.  But if you paused to watch the
+lambs play, or disturbed a young calf in your path, he would almost
+involuntarily exclaim: ‘How deliciously you smell of mint, my pet!’ or
+‘Bless your innocent face!  What sweetbreads you will provide!’
+
+James Wigan had kept a school once.  The late Serjeant Ballantine, who
+was one of his pupils, mentions him in his autobiography.  He was a good
+scholar, and when I first knew him, used to teach elocution.  Many actors
+went to him, and not a few members of both Houses of Parliament.  He
+could recite nearly the whole of several of Shakespeare’s plays; and,
+with a dramatic art I have never known equalled by any public reader.
+
+His later years were passed at Sevenoaks, where he kept an establishment
+for imbeciles, or weak-minded youths.  I often stayed with him (not as a
+patient), and a very comfortable and pretty place it was.  Now and then
+he would call on me in London; and, with a face full of theatrical woe,
+tell me, with elaborate circumlocution, how the Earl of This, or the
+Marquis of That, had implored him to take charge of young Lord So-and-So,
+his son; who, as all the world knew, had—well, had ‘no guts in his
+brains.’  Was there ever such a chance?  Just consider what it must lead
+to!  Everybody knew—no, nobody knew—the enormous number of idiots there
+were in noble families.  And, such a case as that of young Lord
+Dash—though of course his residence at Sevenoaks would be a profound
+secret, would be patent to the whole peerage; and, my dear sir, a fortune
+to your humble servant, if—ah! if he could only secure it!’
+
+‘But I thought you said you had been implored to take him?’
+
+‘I did say so.  I repeat it.  His Lordship’s father came to me with tears
+in his eyes.  “My dear Wigan,” were that nobleman’s words, “do me this
+one favour and trust me, you will never regret it!”  But—’ he paused to
+remove the dramatic tear, ‘but, I hardly dare go on.  Yes—yes, I know
+your kindness’ (seizing my hand) ‘I know how ready you are to help me’—(I
+hadn’t said a word)—‘but—’
+
+‘How much is it this time? and what is it for?’
+
+‘For?  I have told you what it is for.  The merest trifle will suffice.
+I have the room—a beautiful room, the best aspect in the house.  It is
+now occupied by young Rumagee Bumagee the great Bombay millionaire’s son.
+Of course he can be moved.  But a bed—there positively is not a spare bed
+in the house.  This is all I want—a bed, and perhaps a tuppenny ha’penny
+strip of carpet, a couple of chairs, a—let me see; if you give me a slip
+of paper I can make out in a minute what it will come to.’
+
+‘Never mind that.  Will a ten-pound note serve your purposes?’
+
+‘Dear boy!  Dear boy!  But on one condition, on one condition only, can I
+accept it—this is a loan, a loan mind! and not a gift.  No, no—it is
+useless to protest; my pride, my sense of honour, forbids my acceptance
+upon any other terms.’
+
+A day or two afterwards I would learn from George Bird that he and Miss
+Alice had accepted an invitation to meet me at Sevenoaks.  Mr. Donovan,
+the famous phrenologist, was to be of the party; the Rector of Sevenoaks,
+and one or two local magnates, had also been invited to dine.  We
+Londoners were to occupy the spare rooms, for this was in the coaching
+days.
+
+We all knew what we had to expect—a most enjoyable banquet of
+conviviality.  Young Mrs. Wigan, his second wife, was an admirable
+housekeeper, and nothing could have been better done.  The turbot and the
+haunch of venison were the pick of Grove’s shop, the champagne was iced
+to perfection, and there was enough of it, as Mr. Donovan whispered to
+me, casting his eyes to the ceiling, ‘to wash an omnibus, bedad.’  Mr.
+Donovan, though he never refused Mr. Wigan’s hospitality, balanced the
+account by vilipending his friend’s extravagant habits.  While Mr. Wigan,
+probably giving him full credit for his gratitude, always spoke of him as
+‘Poor old Paddy Donovan.’
+
+With Alfred Wigan, the eldest son, I was on very friendly terms.  Nothing
+could be more unlike his father.  His manner in his own house was exactly
+what it was on the stage.  Albany Fonblanque, whose experiences began
+nearly forty years before mine, and who was not given to waste his
+praise, told me he considered Alfred Wigan the best ‘gentleman’ he had
+ever seen on the stage.  I think this impression was due in a great
+measure to Wigan’s entire absence of affectation, and to his persistent
+appeal to the ‘judicious’ but never to the ‘groundlings.’  Mrs. Alfred
+Wigan was also a consummate artiste.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+THROUGH George Bird I made the acquaintance of the leading surgeons and
+physicians of the North London Hospital, where I frequently attended the
+operations of Erichsen, John Marshall, and Sir Henry Thompson, following
+them afterwards in their clinical rounds.  Amongst the physicians,
+Professor Sydney Ringer remains one of my oldest friends.  Both surgery
+and therapeutics interested me deeply.  With regard to the first,
+curiosity was supplemented by the incidental desire to overcome the
+natural repugnance we all feel to the mere sight of blood.
+
+Chemistry I studied in the laboratory of a professional friend of Dr.
+Bird’s.  After a while my teacher would leave me to carry out small
+commissions of a simple character which had been put into his hands, such
+as the analysis of water, bread, or other food-stuffs.  He himself often
+had engagements elsewhere, and would leave me in possession of the
+laboratory, with a small urchin whom he had taught to be useful.  This
+boy was of the meekest and mildest disposition.  Whether his master had
+frightened him or not I do not know.  He always spoke in a whisper, and
+with downcast eyes.  He handled everything as if it was about to
+annihilate him, or he it, and looked as if he wouldn’t bite—even a
+tartlet.
+
+One day when I had finished my task, and we were alone, I bethought me of
+making some laughing gas, and trying the effect of it on the gentle
+youth.  I offered him a shilling for the experiment, which, however,
+proved more expensive than I had bargained for.  I filled a bladder with
+the gas, and putting a bit of broken pipe-stem in its neck for a
+mouthpiece, gave it to the boy to suck—and suck he did.  In a few seconds
+his eyes dilated, his face became lividly white, and I had some trouble
+to tear the intoxicating bladder from his clutches.  The moment I had
+done so, the true nature of the gutter-snipe exhibited itself.  He began
+by cutting flip-flaps and turning windmills all round the room; then,
+before I could stop him, swept an armful of valuable apparatus from the
+tables, till the whole floor was strewn with wreck and poisonous
+solutions.  The dismay of the chemist when he returned may be more easily
+imagined than described.
+
+Some years ago, there was a well-known band of amateur musicians called
+the ‘Wandering Minstrels.’  This band originated in my rooms in Dean’s
+Yard.  Its nucleus was composed of the following members: Seymour
+Egerton, afterwards Lord Wilton, Sir Archibald Macdonald my
+brother-in-law, Fred Clay, Bertie Mitford (the present Lord
+Redesdale—perhaps the finest amateur cornet and trumpet player of the
+day), and Lord Gerald Fitzgerald.  Our concerts were given in the Hanover
+Square Rooms, and we played for charities all over the country.
+
+To turn from the musical art to the art—or science is it called?—of
+self-defence, once so patronised by the highest fashion, there was at
+this time a famous pugilistic battle—the last of the old kind—fought
+between the English champion, Tom Sayers, and the American champion,
+Heenan.  Bertie Mitford and I agreed to go and see it.
+
+The Wandering Minstrels had given a concert in the Hanover Square Rooms.
+The fight was to take place on the following morning.  When the concert
+was over, Mitford and I went to some public-house where the ‘Ring’ had
+assembled, and where tickets were to be bought, and instructions
+received.  Fights when gloves were not used, and which, especially in
+this case, might end fatally, were of course illegal; and every
+precaution had been taken by the police to prevent it.  A special train
+was to leave London Bridge Station about 6 A.M.  We sat up all night in
+my room, and had to wait an hour in the train before the men with their
+backers arrived.  As soon as it was daylight, we saw mounted police
+galloping on the roads adjacent to the line.  No one knew where the train
+would pull up.  Ten minutes after it did so, a ring was formed in a
+meadow close at hand.  The men stripped, and tossed for places.  Heenan
+won the toss, and with it a considerable advantage.  He was nearly a head
+taller than Sayers, and the ground not being quite level, he chose the
+higher side of the ring.  But this was by no means his only ‘pull.’  Just
+as the men took their places the sun began to rise.  It was in Heenan’s
+back, and right in the other’s face.
+
+Heenan began the attack at once with scornful confidence; and in a few
+minutes Sayers received a blow on the forehead above his guard which sent
+him slithering under the ropes; his head and neck, in fact, were outside
+the ring.  He lay perfectly still, and in my ignorance, I thought he was
+done for.  Not a bit of it.  He was merely reposing quietly till his
+seconds put him on his legs.  He came up smiling, but not a jot the
+worse.  But in the course of another round or two, down he went again.
+The fight was going all one way.  The Englishman seemed to be completely
+at the mercy of the giant.  I was so disgusted that I said to my
+companion: ‘Come along, Bertie, the game’s up.  Sayers is good for
+nothing.’
+
+But now the luck changed.  The bull-dog tenacity and splendid condition
+of Sayers were proof against these violent shocks.  The sun was out of
+his eyes, and there was not a mark of a blow either on his face or his
+body.  His temper, his presence of mind, his defence, and the rapidity of
+his movements, were perfect.  The opening he had watched for came at
+last.  He sprang off his legs, and with his whole weight at close
+quarters, struck Heenan’s cheek just under the eye.  It was like the kick
+of a cart-horse.  The shouts might have been heard half-a-mile off.  Up
+till now, the betting called after each round had come to ‘ten to one on
+Heenan’; it fell at once to evens.
+
+Heenan was completely staggered.  He stood for a minute as if he did not
+know where he was or what had happened.  And then, an unprecedented thing
+occurred.  While he thus stood, Sayers put both hands behind his back,
+and coolly walked up to his foe to inspect the damage he had inflicted.
+I had hold of the ropes in Heenan’s corner, consequently could not see
+his face without leaning over them.  When I did so, and before time was
+called, one eye was completely closed.  What kind of generosity prevented
+Sayers from closing the other during the pause, is difficult to
+conjecture.  But his forbearance did not make much difference.  Heenan
+became more fierce, Sayers more daring.  The same tactics were repeated;
+and now, no longer to the astonishment of the crowd, the same success
+rewarded them.  Another sledge-hammer blow from the Englishman closed the
+remaining eye.  The difference in the condition of the two men must have
+been enormous, for in five minutes Heenan was completely sightless.
+
+Sayers, however, had not escaped scot-free.  In countering the last
+attack, Heenan had broken one of the bones of Sayers’ right arm.  Still
+the fight went on.  It was now a brutal scene.  The blind man could not
+defend himself from the other’s terrible punishment.  His whole face was
+so swollen and distorted, that not a feature was recognisable.  But he
+evidently had his design.  Each time Sayers struck him and ducked, Heenan
+made a swoop with his long arms, and at last he caught his enemy.  With
+gigantic force he got Sayers’ head down, and heedless of his captive’s
+pounding, backed step by step to the ring.  When there, he forced Sayers’
+neck on to the rope, and, with all his weight, leant upon the
+Englishman’s shoulders.  In a few moments the face of the strangled man
+was black, his tongue was forced out of his mouth, and his eyes from
+their sockets.  His arms fell powerless, and in a second or two more he
+would have been a corpse.  With a wild yell the crowd rushed to the
+rescue.  Warning cries of ‘The police!  The police!’ mingled with the
+shouts.  The ropes were cut, and a general scamper for the waiting train
+ended this last of the greatest prize-fights.
+
+We two took it easily, and as the mob were scuttling away from the
+police, we saw Sayers with his backers, who were helping him to dress.
+His arm seemed to hurt him a little, but otherwise, for all the damage he
+had received, he might have been playing at football or lawn tennis.
+
+We were quietly getting into a first-class carriage, when I was seized by
+the shoulder and roughly spun out of the way.  Turning to resent the
+rudeness, I found myself face to face with Heenan.  One of his seconds
+had pushed me on one side to let the gladiator get in.  So completely
+blind was he, that the friend had to place his foot upon the step.  And
+yet neither man had won the fight.
+
+We still think—profess to think—the barbarism of the ‘Iliad’ the highest
+flight of epic poetry; if Homer had sung this great battle, how glorious
+we should have thought it!  Beyond a doubt, man ‘yet partially retains
+the characteristics that adapted him to an antecedent state.’
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+
+THROUGH the Cayley family, I became very intimate with their near
+relatives the Worsleys of Hovingham, near York.  Hovingham has now become
+known to the musical world through its festivals, annually held at the
+Hall under the patronage of its late owner, Sir William Worsley.  It was
+in his father’s time that this fine place, with its delightful family,
+was for many years a home to me.  Here I met the Alisons, and at the kind
+invitation of Sir Archibald, paid the great historian a visit at Possil,
+his seat in Scotland.  As men who had achieved scientific or literary
+distinction inspired me with far greater awe than those of the highest
+rank—of whom from my childhood I had seen abundance—Alison’s celebrity,
+his courteous manner, his oracular speech, his voluminous works, and his
+voluminous dimensions, filled me with too much diffidence and respect to
+admit of any freedom of approach.  One listened to him, as he held forth
+of an evening when surrounded by his family, with reverential silence.
+He had a strong Scotch accent; and, if a wee bit prosy at times, it was
+sententious and polished prose that he talked; he talked invariably like
+a book.  His family were devoted to him; and I felt that no one who knew
+him could help liking him.
+
+When Thackeray was giving readings from ‘The Four Georges,’ I dined with
+Lady Grey and Landseer, and we three went to hear him.  I had heard
+Dickens read ‘The Trial of Bardell against Pickwick,’ and it was curious
+to compare the style of the two great novelists.  With Thackeray, there
+was an entire absence of either tone or colour.  Of course the historical
+nature of his subject precluded the dramatic suggestion to be looked for
+in the Pickwick trial, thus rendering comparison inapposite.
+Nevertheless one was bound to contrast them.  Thackeray’s features were
+impassive, and his voice knew no inflection.  But his elocution in other
+respects was perfect, admirably distinct and impressive from its complete
+obliteration of the reader.
+
+The selection was from the reign of George the Third; and no part of it
+was more attentively listened to than his passing allusion to himself.
+‘I came,’ he says, ‘from India as a child, and our ship touched at an
+island on the way home, where my black servant took me a long walk over
+rocks and hills until we reached a garden, where we saw a man walking.
+“That is he,” said the black man, “that is Bonaparte!  He eats three
+sheep every day, and all the little children he can lay hands on!”’  One
+went to hear Thackeray, to see Thackeray; and the child and the black man
+and the ogre were there on the stage before one.  But so well did the
+lecturer perform his part, that ten minutes later one had forgotten him,
+and saw only George Selwyn and his friend Horace Walpole, and Horace’s
+friend, Miss Berry—whom by the way I too knew and remember.  One saw the
+‘poor society ghastly in its pleasures, its loves, its revelries,’ and
+the redeeming vision of ‘her father’s darling, the Princess Amelia,
+pathetic for her beauty, her sweetness, her early death, and for the
+extreme passionate tenderness with which her father loved her.’  The
+story told, as Thackeray told it, was as delightful to listen to as to
+read.
+
+Not so with Dickens.  He disappointed me.  He made no attempt to
+represent the different characters by varied utterance; but whenever
+something unusually comic was said, or about to be said, he had a habit
+of turning his eyes up to the ceiling; so that, knowing what was coming,
+one nervously anticipated the upcast look, and for the moment lost the
+illusion.  In both entertainments, the reader was naturally the central
+point of interest.  But in the case of Dickens, when curiosity was
+satisfied, he alone possessed one; Pickwick and Mrs. Bardell were put out
+of court.
+
+Was it not Charles Lamb, or was it Hazlitt, that could not bear to see
+Shakespeare upon the stage?  I agree with him.  I have never seen a
+Falstaff that did not make me miserable.  He is even more impossible to
+impersonate than Hamlet.  A player will spoil you the character of
+Hamlet, but he cannot spoil his thoughts.  Depend upon it, we are
+fortunate not to have seen Shakespeare in his ghost of Royal Denmark.
+
+In 1861 I married Lady Katharine Egerton, second daughter of Lord Wilton,
+and we took up our abode in Warwick Square, which, by the way, I had seen
+a few years before as a turnip field.  My wife was an accomplished
+pianiste, so we had a great deal of music, and saw much of the artist
+world.  I may mention one artistic dinner amongst our early efforts at
+housekeeping, which nearly ended with a catastrophe.
+
+Millais and Dicky Doyle were of the party; music was represented by
+Joachim, Piatti, and Hallé.  The late Lord and Lady de Ros were also of
+the number.  Lady de Ros, who was a daughter of the Duke of Richmond, had
+danced at the ball given by her father at Brussels the night before
+Waterloo.  As Lord de Ros was then Governor of the Tower, it will be
+understood that he was a veteran of some standing.  The great musical
+trio were enchanting all ears with their faultless performance, when the
+sweet and soul-stirring notes of the Adagio were suddenly interrupted by
+a loud crash and a shriek.  Old Lord de Ros was listening to the music on
+a sofa at the further end of the room.  Over his head was a large picture
+in a heavy frame.  What vibrations, what careless hanging, what
+mischievous Ate or Discord was at the bottom of it, who knows?  Down came
+the picture on the top of the poor old General’s head, and knocked him
+senseless on the floor.  He had to be carried upstairs and laid upon a
+bed.  Happily he recovered without serious injury.  There were many
+exclamations of regret, but the only one I remember was Millais’.  All he
+said was: ‘And it is a good picture too.’
+
+Sir Arthur Sullivan was one of our musical favourites.  My wife had known
+him as a chorister boy in the Chapel Royal; and to the end of his days we
+were on terms of the closest intimacy and friendship.  Through him we
+made the acquaintance of the Scott Russells.  Mr. Scott Russell was the
+builder of the Crystal Palace.  He had a delightful residence at
+Sydenham, the grounds of which adjoined those of the Crystal Palace, and
+were beautifully laid out by his friend Sir Joseph Paxton.  One of the
+daughters, Miss Rachel Russell, was a pupil of Arthur Sullivan’s.  She
+had great musical talent, she was remarkably handsome, exceedingly clever
+and well-informed, and altogether exceptionally fascinating.  Quite apart
+from Sullivan’s genius, he was in every way a charming fellow.  The
+teacher fell in love with the pupil; and, as naturally, his love was
+returned.  Sullivan was but a youth, a poor and struggling music-master.
+And, very naturally again, Mrs. Scott Russell, who could not be expected
+to know what magic bâton the young maestro carried in his knapsack,
+thought her brilliant daughter might do better.  The music lessons were
+put a stop to, and correspondence between the lovers was prohibited.
+
+Once a week or so, either the young lady or the young gentleman would,
+quite unexpectedly, pay us a visit about tea or luncheon time.  And, by
+the strangest coincidence, the other would be sure to drop in while the
+one was there.  This went on for a year or two.  But destiny forbade the
+banns.  In spite of the large fortune acquired by Mr. Scott Russell—he
+was the builder of the ‘Great Eastern’ as well as the Crystal
+Palace—ill-advised or unsuccessful ventures robbed him of his well-earned
+wealth.  His beautiful place at Sydenham had to be sold; and the marriage
+of Miss Rachel with young Arthur Sullivan was abandoned.  She ultimately
+married an Indian official.
+
+Her story may here be told to the end.  Some years later she returned to
+England to bring her two children home for their education, going back to
+India without them, as Indian mothers have to do.  The day before she
+sailed, she called to take leave of us in London.  She was terribly
+depressed, but fought bravely with her trial.  She never broke down, but
+shunted the subject, talking and laughing with flashes of her old
+vivacity, about music, books, friends, and ‘dear old dirty London,’ as
+she called it.  When she left, I opened the street-door for her, and with
+both her hands in mine, bade her ‘Farewell.’  Then the tears fell, and
+her parting words were: ‘I am leaving England never to see it again.’
+She was seized with cholera the night she reached Bombay, and died the
+following day.
+
+To return to her father, the eminent engineer.  He was distinctly a man
+of genius, and what is called ‘a character.’  He was always in the
+clouds—not in the vapour of his engine-rooms, nor busy inventing machines
+for extracting sunbeams from cucumbers, but musing on metaphysical
+problems and abstract speculations about the universe generally.  In
+other respects a perfectly simple-minded man.
+
+It was in his palmy days that he invited me to run down to Sheerness with
+him, and go over the ‘Great Eastern’ before she left with the Atlantic
+cable.  This was in 1865.  The largest ship in the world, and the first
+Atlantic cable, were both objects of the greatest interest.  The builder
+did not know the captain—Anderson—nor did the captain know the builder.
+But clearly, each would be glad to meet the other.
+
+As the leviathan was to leave in a couple of days, everything on board
+her was in the wildest confusion.  Russell could not find anyone who
+could find the Captain; so he began poking about with me, till we
+accidentally stumbled on the Commander.  He merely said that he was come
+to take a parting glance at his ‘child,’ which did not seem of much
+concern to the over-busy captain.  He never mentioned his own name, but
+introduced me as ‘my friend Captain Cole.’  Now, in those days, Captain
+Cole was well known as a distinguished naval officer.  To Russell’s
+absent and engineering mind, ‘Coke’ had suggested ‘Cole,’ and ‘Captain’
+was inseparable from the latter.  It was a name to conjure with.  Captain
+Anderson took off his cap, shook me warmly by the hand, expressed his
+pleasure at making my acquaintance, and hoped I, and my friend
+Mr.—ahem—would come into his cabin and have luncheon, and then allow him
+to show me over his ship.  Scott Russell was far too deeply absorbed in
+his surroundings to note any peculiarity in this neglect of himself and
+marked respect for ‘Captain Cole.’  We made the round of the decks, then
+explored the engine room.  Here the designer found himself in an earthly
+paradise.  He button-holed the engineer and inquired into every crank,
+and piston, and valve, and every bolt, as it seemed to me, till the
+officer in charge unconsciously began to ask opinions instead of offering
+explanations.  By degrees the captain was equally astonished at the
+visitor’s knowledge, and when at last my friend asked what had become of
+some fixture or other which he missed, Captain Anderson turned to him and
+exclaimed, ‘Why, you seem to know more about the ship than I do.’
+
+‘Well, so I ought,’ says my friend, never for a moment supposing that
+Anderson was in ignorance of his identity.
+
+‘Indeed!  Who then are you, pray?’
+
+‘Who?  Why, Scott Russell of course, the builder!’
+
+There was a hearty laugh over it all.  I managed to spare the captain’s
+feelings by preserving my incognito, and so ended a pleasant day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+
+IN November, 1862, my wife and I received an invitation to spend a week
+at Compiègne with their Majesties the Emperor and Empress of the French.
+This was due to the circumstance that my wife’s father, Lord Wilton, as
+Commodore of the Royal Yacht Squadron, had entertained the Emperor during
+his visit to Cowes.
+
+We found an express train with the imperial carriages awaiting the
+arrival of the English guests at the station du Nord.  The only other
+English besides ourselves were Lord and Lady Winchilsea with Lady
+Florence Paget, and Lord and Lady Castlerosse, now Lord and Lady Kenmare.
+These, however, had preceded us, so that with the exception of M. Drouyn
+de Lhuys, we had the saloon carriage to ourselves.
+
+The party was a very large one, including the Walewskis, the Persignys,
+the Metternichs—he, the Austrian Ambassador—Prince Henri VII. of Reuss,
+Prussian Ambassador, the Prince de la Moskowa, son of Marshal Ney, and
+the Labedoyères, amongst the historical names.  Amongst those of art and
+literature, of whom there were many, the only one whom I made the
+acquaintance of was Octave Feuillet.  I happened to have brought his
+‘Comédies et Proverbes’ and another of his books with me, never expecting
+to meet him; this so pleased him that we became allies.  I was surprised
+to find that he could not even read English, which I begged him to learn
+for the sake of Shakespeare alone.
+
+We did not see their Majesties till dinner-time.  When the guests were
+assembled, the women and the men were arranged separately on opposite
+sides of the room.  The Emperor and Empress then entered, each
+respectively welcoming those of their own sex, shaking hands and saying
+some conventional word in passing.  Me, he asked whether I had brought my
+guns, and hoped we should have a good week’s sport.  To each one a word.
+Every night during the week we sat down over a hundred to dinner.  The
+Army was largely represented.  For the first time I tasted here the
+national frog, which is neither fish nor flesh.  The wine was, of course,
+supreme; but after every dish a different wine was handed round.  The
+evening entertainments were varied.  There was the theatre in the Palace,
+and some of the best of the Paris artistes were requisitioned for the
+occasion.  With them came Dèjazet, then nearly seventy, who had played
+before Buonaparte.
+
+Almost every night there was dancing.  Sometimes the Emperor would walk
+through a quadrille, but as a rule he would retire with one of his
+ministers, though only to a smaller boudoir at the end of the suite,
+where a couple of whist-tables were ready for the more sedate of the
+party.  Here one evening I found Prince Metternich showing his Majesty a
+chess problem, of which he was the proud inventor.  The Emperor asked
+whether I was fond of chess.  I was very fond of chess, was one of the
+regular _habitués_ of St. George’s Chess Club, and had made a study of
+the game for years.  The Prince challenged me to solve his problem in
+four moves.  It was not a very profound one.  I had the hardihood to
+discover that three, rather obvious moves, were sufficient.  But as I was
+not Gil Blas, and the Prince was not the Archbishop of Grenada, it did
+not much matter.  Like the famous prelate, his Excellency proffered his
+felicitations, and doubtless also wished me ‘un peu plus de goût’ with
+the addition of ‘un peu moins de perspicacité.’
+
+One of the evening performances was an exhibition of _poses-plastiques_,
+the subjects being chosen from celebrated pictures in the Louvre.
+Theatrical costumiers, under the command of a noted painter, were brought
+from Paris.  The ladies of the court were carefully rehearsed, and the
+whole thing was very perfectly and very beautifully done.  All the
+English ladies were assigned parts.  But, as nearly all these depended
+less upon the beauties of drapery than upon those of nature, the English
+ladies were more than a little staggered by the demands of the painter
+and of the—_un_dressers.  To the young and handsome Lady Castlerosse,
+then just married, was allotted the figure of Diana.  But when informed
+that, in accordance with the original, the drapery of one leg would have
+to be looped up above the knee, her ladyship used very firm language;
+and, though of course perfectly ladylike, would, rendered into masculine
+terms, have signified that she would ‘see the painter d—d first.’  The
+celebrated ‘Cruche cassée’ of Greuze, was represented by the reigning
+beauty, the Marquise de Gallifet, with complete fidelity and success.
+
+There was one stage of the performance which neither I nor Lord
+Castlerosse, both of us newly married, at all appreciated.  This was the
+privileges of the Green-room, or rather of the dressing-rooms.  The
+exhibition was given in the ball-room.  On one side of this, until the
+night of the performances, an enclosure was boarded off.  Within it, were
+compartments in which the ladies dressed and—undressed.  At this
+operation, as we young husbands discovered, certain young gentlemen of
+the court were permitted to assist—I think I am not mistaken in saying
+that his Majesty was of the number.  What kind of assistance was offered
+or accepted, Castlerosse and I, being on the wrong side of the boarding,
+were not in a position to know.
+
+There was a door in the boarding, over which one expected to see, ‘No
+admittance except on business,’ or perhaps, ‘on pleasure.’  At this door
+I rapped, and rapped again impatiently.  It was opened, only as wide as
+her face, by the empress.
+
+‘What do you want, sir?’ was the angry demand.
+
+‘To see my wife, madame,’ was the submissive reply.
+
+‘You can’t see her; she is rehearsing.’
+
+‘But, madame, other gentlemen—’
+
+‘Ah!  Mais, c’est un enfantillage!  Allez-vous-en.’
+
+And the door was slammed in my face.
+
+‘Well,’ thought I, ‘the right woman is in the right place there, at all
+events.’
+
+Another little incident at the performance itself also recalled the days
+and manners of the court of Louis XV.  Between each tableau, which was
+lighted solely from the raised stage, the lights were put out, and the
+whole room left in complete darkness.  Whenever this happened, the sounds
+of immoderate kissing broke out in all directions, accompanied by little
+cries of resistance and protestation.  Until then, I had always been
+under the impression that humour of this kind was confined to the
+servants’ hall.  One could not help thinking of another court, where
+things were managed differently.
+
+But the truth is, these trivial episodes were symptomatic of a pervading
+tone.  A no inconsiderable portion of the ladies seemed to an outsider to
+have been invited for the sake of their personal charms.  After what has
+just been related, one could not help fancying that there were some
+amongst them who had availed themselves of the privilege which, according
+to Tacitus, was claimed by Vistilia before the Ædiles.  So far, however,
+from any of these noble ladies being banished to the Isle of Seriphos,
+they seemed as much attached to the court as the court to them; and
+whatever the Roman Emperor might have done, the Emperor of the French was
+all that was most indulgent.
+
+There were two days’ shooting, one day’s stag hunting, an expedition to
+Pierrefonds, and a couple of days spent in riding and skating.  The
+shooting was very much after the fashion of that already described at
+Prince Esterhazy’s, though of a much more Imperial character.  As in
+Hungary, the game had been driven into coverts cut down to the height of
+the waist, with paths thirty to forty yards apart, for the guns.
+
+The weather was cold, with snow on the ground, but it was a beautifully
+sunny day.  This was the party: the two ambassadors, the Prince de la
+Moskowa, Persigny, Walewski—Bonaparte’s natural son, and the image of his
+father—the Marquis de Toulongeon, Master of the Horse, and we three
+Englishmen.  We met punctually at eleven in the grand saloon.  Here the
+Emperor joined us, with his cigarette in his mouth, shook hands with
+each, and bade us take our places in the char-a-bancs.  Four splendid
+Normandy greys, with postilions in the picturesque old costume, glazed
+hats and huge jack-boots, took us through the forest at full gallop, and
+in half an hour we were at the covert side.  The Emperor was very cheery
+all the way.  He cautioned me not to shoot back for the beaters’ sakes,
+and asked me how many guns I had brought.
+
+‘Two only? that’s not enough, I will lend you some of mine.’
+
+Arrived at our beat—‘Tire de Royallieu,’ we found a squadron of
+dismounted cavalry drawn up in line, ready to commence operations.  They
+were in stable dress, with canvas trousers and spurs to their boots.
+Several officers were galloping about giving orders, the whole being
+under the command of a mounted chief in green uniform and cocked hat!
+The place of each shooter had been settled by M. de Toulongeon.  I, being
+the only Nobody of the lot, was put on the extreme outside.  The Emperor
+was in the middle; and although, as I noticed, he made some beautiful
+shots at rocketers, he was engaged much of the time in talking to
+ministers who walked behind, or beside, him.
+
+Our servants were already in the places allotted to their masters, and
+each of us had two keepers to carry spare guns (the Emperor had not
+forgotten to send me two of his, which I could not shoot with, and never
+used), and a sergeant with a large card to prick off each head of game,
+not as it fell to the gun, but only after it was picked up.  This
+conscientious scoring amused me greatly; for, as it chanced, my bag was a
+heavy one, and the Emperor’s marker sent constant messages to mine to
+compare notes, and so arrange, as it transpired, to keep His Majesty at
+the top of the score.
+
+About half-past one we reached a clearing where _déjeuner_ was awaiting
+us.  The scene presented was striking.  Around a tent in which every
+delicacy was spread out were numbers of little charcoal fires, where a
+still greater number of cooks in white caps and jackets were preparing
+dainty dishes; while the Imperial footmen bustling about brightened the
+picture with colour.  After coffee all the cards were brought to his
+Majesty.  When he had scanned them, he said to me across the table:
+
+‘I congratulate you, Mr. Coke, upon having killed the most.’
+
+My answer was, ‘After you, Sir.’
+
+‘Yes,’ said he, giving his moustache an upward twist, but with perfect
+gravity, ‘I always kill the most.’
+
+Just then the Empress and the whole court drove up.  Presently she came
+into the tent and, addressing her husband, exclaimed:
+
+‘Avez-vous bientôt fini, vous autres?  Ah! que vous êtes des gourmands!’
+
+Till the finish, she and the rest walked with the shooters.  By four it
+was over.  The total score was 1,387 head.  Mine was 182, which included
+thirty-six partridges, two woodcocks, and four roedeer.  This, in three
+and a half hours’ shooting, with two muzzle-loaders (breech-loaders were
+not then in use), was an unusually good bag.
+
+Fashion is capricious.  When lunch was over I went to one of the charcoal
+fires, quite in the background, to light a cigarette.  An aide-de-camp
+immediately pounced upon me, with the information that this was not
+permitted in company with the Empress.  It reminded one at once of the
+ejaculation at Oliver Twist’s bedside, ‘Ladies is present, Mr. Giles.’
+After the shooting, I was told to go to tea with the Empress—a terrible
+ordeal, for one had to face the entire feminine force of the palace,
+nearly every one of whom, from the highest to the lowest, was provided
+with her own _cavaliere servente_.
+
+The following night, when we assembled for dinner, I received orders to
+sit next to the Empress.  This was still more embarrassing.  It is true,
+one does not speak to a sovereign unless one is spoken to; but still one
+is permitted to make the initiative easy.  I found that I was expected to
+take my share of the task; and by a happy inspiration, introduced the
+subject of the Prince Imperial, then a child of eight years old.  The
+_mondaine_ Empress was at once merged in the adoring mother; her whole
+soul was wrapped up in the boy.  It was easy enough then to speculate on
+his career, at least so far as the building of castles in the air for
+fantasies to roam in.  What a future he had before him!—to consolidate
+the Empire! to perfect the great achievement of his father, and render
+permanent the foundation of the Napoleonic dynasty! to build a
+superstructure as transcendent for the glories of Peace, as those of his
+immortal ancestor had been for War!
+
+It was not difficult to play the game with such court cards in one’s
+hand.  Nor was it easy to coin these _phrases de sucrecandi_ without
+sober and earnest reflections on the import of their contents.  What,
+indeed, might or might not be the consequences to millions, of the wise
+or unwise or evil development of the life of that bright and handsome
+little fellow, now trotting around the dessert table, with the long curls
+tumbling over his velvet jacket, and the flowers in his hand for some
+pretty lady who was privileged to kiss him?  Who could foretell the cruel
+doom—heedless of such favours and such splendid promises—that awaited the
+pretty child?  Who could hear the brave young soldier’s last shrieks of
+solitary agony?  Who could see the forsaken body slashed with knives and
+assegais?  Ah! who could dream of that fond mother’s heart, when the end
+came, which eclipsed even the disasters of a nation!
+
+One by-day, when my wife and I were riding with the Emperor through the
+forest of Compiègne, a rough-looking man in a blouse, with a red
+comforter round his neck, sprang out from behind a tree; and before he
+could be stopped, seized the Emperor’s bridle.  In an instant the Emperor
+struck his hand with a heavy hunting stock; and being free, touched his
+horse with the spur and cantered on.  I took particular notice of his
+features and his demeanour, from the very first moment of the surprise.
+Nothing happened but what I have described.  The man seemed fierce and
+reckless.  The Emperor showed not the faintest signs of discomposure.
+All he said was, turning to my wife, ‘Comme il avait l’air sournois, cet
+homme!’ and resumed the conversation at the point where it was
+interrupted.
+
+Before we had gone a hundred yards I looked back to see what had become
+of the offender.  He was in the hands of two _gens d’armes_, who had been
+invisible till then.
+
+‘Poor devil,’ thought I, ‘this spells dungeon for you.’
+
+Now, with Kinglake’s acrimonious charge of the Emperor’s personal
+cowardice running in my head, I felt that this exhibition of _sang
+froid_, when taken completely unawares, went far to refute the
+imputation.  What happened later in the day strongly confirmed this
+opinion.
+
+After dark, about six o’clock, I took a stroll by myself through the town
+of Compiègne.  Coming home, when crossing the bridge below the Palace, I
+met the Emperor arm-in-arm with Walewski.  Not ten minutes afterwards,
+whom should I stumble upon but the ruffian who had seized the Emperor’s
+bridle?  The same red comforter was round his neck, the same wild look
+was in his face.  I turned after he had passed, and at the same moment he
+turned to look at me.
+
+Would this man have been at large but for the Emperor’s orders?
+Assuredly not.  For, supposing he were crazy, who could have answered for
+his deeds?  Most likely he was shadowed; and to a certainty the Emperor
+would be so.  Still, what could save the latter from a pistol-shot?  Yet,
+here he was, sauntering about the badly lighted streets of a town where
+his kenspeckle figure was familiar to every inhabitant.  Call this
+fatalism if you will; but these were not the acts of a coward.  I told
+this story to a friend who was well ‘posted’ in the club gossip of the
+day.  He laughed.
+
+‘Don’t you know the meaning of Kinglake’s spite against the Emperor?’
+said he.  ‘_Cherchez la femme_.  Both of them were in love with Mrs. —’
+
+This is the way we write our histories.
+
+Wishing to explore the grounds about the palace before anyone was astir,
+I went out one morning about half-past eight.  Seeing what I took to be a
+mausoleum, I walked up to it, found the door opened, and peeped in.  It
+turned out to be a museum of Roman antiquities, and the Emperor was
+inside, arranging them.  I immediately withdrew, but he called to me to
+come in.
+
+He was at this time busy with his Life of Cæsar; and, in his enthusiasm,
+seemed pleased to have a listener to his instructive explanations; he
+even encouraged the curiosity which the valuable collection and his own
+remarks could not fail to awaken.
+
+Not long ago, I saw some correspondence in the Times’ and other papers
+about what Heine calls ‘Das kleine welthistorische Hûtchen,’ which the
+whole of Europe knew so well, to its cost.  Some six or seven of the
+Buonaparte hats, so it appears, are still in existence.  But I noticed,
+that though all were located, no mention was made of the one in the
+Luxembourg.
+
+When we left Compiègne for Paris we were magnificently furnished with
+orders for royal boxes at theatres, and for admission to places of
+interest not open to the public.  Thus provided, we had access to many
+objects of historical interest and of art—amongst the former, the relics
+of the great conqueror.  In one glass case, under lock and key, was the
+‘world-historical little hat.’  The official who accompanied us, having
+stated that we were the Emperor’s guests, requested the keeper to take it
+out and show it to us.  I hope no Frenchman will know it, but, I put the
+hat upon my head.  In one sense it was a ‘little’ hat—that is to say, it
+fitted a man with a moderate sized skull—but the flaps were much larger
+than pictures would lead one to think, and such was the weight that I am
+sure it would give any ordinary man accustomed to our head-gear a still
+neck to wear it for an hour.  What has become of this hat if it is not
+still in the Luxembourg?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+
+SOME few years later, while travelling with my family in Switzerland, we
+happened to be staying at Baveno on Lago Maggiore at the same time, and
+in the same hotel, as the Crown Prince and Princess of Germany.  Their
+Imperial Highnesses occupied a suite of apartments on the first floor.
+Our rooms were immediately above them.  As my wife was known to the
+Princess, occasional greetings passed from balcony to balcony.
+
+One evening while watching two lads rowing from the shore in the
+direction of Isola Bella, I was aroused from my contemplation of a
+gathering storm by angry vociferations beneath me.  These were addressed
+to the youths in the boat.  The anxious father had noted the coming
+tempest; and, with hands to his mouth, was shouting orders to the young
+gentlemen to return.  Loud and angry as cracked the thunder, the imperial
+voice o’ertopped it.  Commands succeeded admonitions, and as the only
+effect on the rowers was obvious recalcitrancy, oaths succeeded both: all
+in those throat-clearing tones to which the German language so
+consonantly lends itself.  In a few minutes the boat was immersed in the
+down-pour which concealed it.
+
+The elder of the two oarsmen was no other than the future firebrand
+peacemaker, Miching Mallecho, our fierce little Tartarin de Berlin.  One
+wondered how he, who would not be ruled, would come in turn to rule?
+That question is a burning one; and may yet set the world in flames to
+solve it.
+
+A comic little incident happened here to my own children.  There was but
+one bathing-machine.  This, the two—a schoolboy and his sister—used in
+the early morning.  Being rather late one day, they found it engaged; and
+growing impatient the boy banged at the door of the machine, with a shout
+in schoolboy’s vernacular: ‘Come, hurry up; we want to dip.’  Much to the
+surprise of the guilty pair, an answer, also in the best of English, came
+from the inside: ‘Go away, you naughty boy.’  The occupant was the
+Imperial Princess.  Needless to say the children bolted with a mingled
+sense of mischief and alarm.
+
+About this time I joined a society for the relief of distress, of which
+Bromley Davenport was the nominal leader.  The ‘managing director,’ so to
+speak, was Dr. Gilbert, father of Mr. W. S. Gilbert.  To him I went for
+instructions.  I told him I wanted to see the worst.  He accordingly sent
+me to Bethnal Green.  For two winters and part of a third I visited this
+district twice a week regularly.  What I saw in the course of those two
+years was matter for a thoughtful—ay, or a thoughtless—man to think of
+for the rest of his days.
+
+My system was to call first upon the clergyman of the parish, and obtain
+from him a guide to the severest cases of destitution.  The guide would
+be a Scripture reader, and, as far as I remember, always a woman.  I do
+not know whether the labours of these good creatures were gratuitous—they
+themselves were certainly poor, yet singularly earnest and sympathetic.
+The society supplied tickets for coal, blankets, and food.  Needless to
+say, had these supplies been a thousand-fold as great, they would have
+done as little permanent good as those at my command.
+
+In Bethnal Green the principal industry is, or was, silk-weaving by hand
+looms.  Nearly all the houses were ancient and dilapidated.  A weaver and
+his family would occupy part of a flat, consisting of two rooms perhaps,
+one of which would contain his loom.  The room might be about seven feet
+high, nearly dark, lighted only by a lattice window, half of the panes of
+which would be replaced by dirty rags or old newspaper.  As the loom was
+placed against the window the light was practically excluded.  The
+foulness of the air and filth which this entailed may be too easily
+imagined.  A couple of cases, taken almost at random, will sample scores
+as bad.
+
+It is one of the darkest days of December.  The Thames is nearly frozen
+at Waterloo Bridge.  On the second floor of an old house in — Lane, in an
+unusually spacious room (or does it only look spacious because there is
+nothing in it save four human beings?) are a father, a mother, and a
+grown-up son and daughter.  They scowl at the visitor as the Scripture
+reader opens the door.  What is the meaning of the intrusion?  Is he too
+come with a Bible instead of bread?  The four are seated side by side on
+the floor, leaning against the wall, waiting for—death.  Bedsteads,
+chairs, table, and looms have been burnt this week or more for fuel.  The
+grate is empty now, and lets the freezing draught blow down the chimney.
+The temporary relief is accepted, but not with thanks.  These four
+stubbornly prefer death to the work-house.
+
+One other case.  It is the same hard winter.  The scene: a small garret
+in the roof, a low slanting little skylight, now covered six inches deep
+in snow.  No fireplace here, no ventilation, so put your scented cambric
+to your nose, my noble Dives.  The only furniture a scanty armful of—what
+shall we call it?  It was straw once.  A starving woman and a baby are
+lying on it, notwithstanding.  The baby surely will not be there
+to-morrow.  It has a very bad cold—and the mucus, and the—pah!  The woman
+in a few rags—just a few—is gnawing a raw carrot.  The picture is
+complete.  There’s nothing more to paint.  The rest—the whole indeed,
+that is the consciousness of it—was, and remains, with the Unseen.
+
+You will say, ‘Such things cannot be’; you will say, ‘There are relieving
+officers, whose duty, etc., etc.’  May be.  I am only telling you what I
+myself have seen.  There is more goes on in big cities than even
+relieving officers can cope with.  And who shall grapple with the causes?
+That’s the point.
+
+Here is something else that I have seen.  I have seen a family of six in
+one room.  Of these, four were brothers and sisters, all within, none
+over, their teens.  There were three beds between the six.  When I came
+upon them they were out of work,—the young ones in bed to keep warm.  I
+took them for very young married couples.  It was the Scripture reader
+who undeceived me.  This is not the exception to the rule, look you, but
+the rule itself.  How will you deal with it?  It is with Nature, immoral
+Nature and her heedless instincts that you have to deal.  With what kind
+of fork will you expel her?  It is with Nature’s wretched children, the
+_bêtes humaines_,
+
+    Quos venerem incertam rapientes more ferarum,
+
+that your account lies.  Will they cease to listen to her maddening
+whispers: ‘Unissez-vous, multipliez, il n’est d’autre loi, d’autre but,
+que l’amour?’  What care they for her aside—‘Et durez après, si vous le
+pouvez; cela ne me regarde plus’?  It doesn’t regard them either.
+
+The infallible panacea, so the ‘Progressive’ tell us, is
+education—lessons on the piano, perhaps?  Doctor Malthus would be more to
+the purpose; but how shall we administer his prescriptions?  One thing we
+might try to teach to advantage, and that is the elementary principles of
+hygiene.  I am heart and soul with the Progressive as to the ultimate
+remedial powers of education.  Moral advancement depends absolutely on
+the humanising influences of intellectual advancement.  The foreseeing of
+consequences is a question of intelligence.  And the appreciation of
+consequences which follow is the basis of morality.  But we must not
+begin at the wrong end.  The true foundation and condition of
+intellectual and moral progress postulates material and physical
+improvement.  The growth of artificial wants is as much the cause as the
+effect of civilisation: they proceed _pari passu_.  A taste of comfort
+begets a love of comfort.  And this kind of love militates, not
+impotently, against the other; for self-interest is a persuasive
+counsellor, and gets a hearing when the blood is cool.  Life must be more
+than possible, it must be endurable; man must have some leisure, some
+repose, before his brain-needs have a chance with those of his belly.  He
+must have a coat to his back before he can stick a rose in its
+button-hole.  The worst of it is, he begins—in Bethnal Green at
+least—with the rose-bud; and indulges, poor devil! in a luxury which is
+just the most expensive, and—in our Bethnal Greens—the most suicidal he
+could resort to.
+
+There was one method I adopted with a show of temporary success now and
+then.  It frequently happens that a man succumbs to difficulties for
+which he is not responsible, and which timely aid may enable him to
+overcome.  An artisan may have to pawn or sell the tools by which he
+earns his living.  The redemption of these, if the man is good for
+anything, will often set him on his legs.  Thus, for example, I found a
+cobbler one day surrounded by a starving family.  His story was common
+enough, severe illness being the burden of it.  He was an intelligent
+little fellow, and, as far as one could judge, full of good intentions.
+His wife seemed devoted to him, and this was the best of vouchers.  ‘If
+he had but a shilling or two to redeem his tools, and buy two or three
+old cast-off shoes in the rag-market which he could patch up and sell, he
+wouldn’t ask anyone for a copper.’
+
+We went together to the pawnbroker’s, then to the rag-market, and the
+little man trotted home with an armful of old boots and shoes, some
+without soles, some without uppers; all, as I should have thought, picked
+out of dust-bins and rubbish heaps, his sunken eyes sparkling with
+eagerness and renovated hope.  I looked in upon him about three weeks
+later.  The family were sitting round a well provided tea-table, close to
+a glowing fire, the cheeks of the children smeared with jam, and the
+little cobbler hammering away at his last, too busy to partake of the
+bowl of hot tea which his wife had placed beside him.
+
+The same sort of treatment was sometimes very successful with a skilful
+workman—like a carpenter, for instance.  Here a double purpose might be
+served.  Nothing more common in Bethnal Green than broken looms, and
+consequent disaster.  There you had the ready-made job for the reinstated
+carpenter; and good could be done in a small way, at very little cost.
+Of coarse much discretion is needed; still, the Scripture readers or the
+relieving officers would know the characters of the destitute, and the
+visitor himself would soon learn to discriminate.
+
+A system similar to this was the basis of the aid rendered by the Royal
+Society for the Assistance of Discharged Prisoners, which was started by
+my friend, Mr. Whitbread, the present owner of Southill, and which I
+joined in its early days at his instigation.  The earnings of the
+prisoner were handed over by the gaols to the Society, and the Society
+employed them for his advantage—always, in the case of an artisan, by
+supplying him with the needful implements of his trade.  But relief in
+which the pauper has no productive share, of which he is but a mere
+consumer, is of no avail.
+
+One cannot but think that if instead of the selfish principles which
+govern our trades-unions, and which are driving their industries out of
+the country, trade-schools could be provided—such, for instance, as the
+cheap carving schools to be met with in many parts of Germany and the
+Tyrol—much might be done to help the bread-earners.  Why could not
+schools be organised for the instruction of shoemakers, tailors,
+carpenters, smiths of all kinds, and the scores of other trades which in
+former days were learnt by compulsory apprenticeship?  Under our present
+system of education the greater part of what the poor man’s children
+learn is clean forgotten in a few years; and if not, serves mainly to
+create and foster discontent, which vents itself in a passion for
+mass-meetings and the fuliginous oratory of our Hyde Parks.
+
+The emigration scheme for poor-law children as advocated by Mrs. Close is
+the most promising, in its way, yet brought before the public, and is
+deserving of every support.
+
+In the absence of any such projects as these, the hopelessness of the
+task, and the depressing effect of the contact with much wretchedness,
+wore me out.  I had a nursery of my own, and was not justified in risking
+infectious diseases.  A saint would have been more heroic, and could
+besides have promised that sweetest of consolations to suffering
+millions—the compensation of Eternal Happiness.  I could not give them
+even hope, for I had none to spare.  The root-evil I felt to be the
+overcrowding due to the reckless intercourse of the sexes; and what had
+Providence to do with a law of Nature, obedience to which entailed
+unspeakable misery?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+
+IN the autumn following the end of the Franco-German war, Dr. Bird and I
+visited all the principal battlefields.  In England the impression was
+that the bloodiest battle was fought at Gravelotte.  The error was due, I
+believe, to our having no war correspondent on the spot.  Compared with
+that on the plains between St. Marie and St. Privat, Gravelotte was but a
+cavalry skirmish.  We were fortunate enough to meet a German artillery
+officer at St. Marie who had been in the action, and who kindly explained
+the distribution of the forces.  Large square mounds were scattered about
+the plain where the German dead were buried, little wooden crosses being
+stuck into them to denote the regiment they had belonged to.  At
+Gravelotte we saw the dogs unearthing the bodies from the shallow graves.
+The officer told us he did not think there was a family in Germany
+unrepresented in the plains of St. Privat.
+
+It was interesting so soon after the event, to sit quietly in the little
+summer-house of the Château de Bellevue, commanding a view of Sedan,
+where Bismarck and Moltke and General de Wimpfen held their memorable
+Council.  ‘Un terrible homme,’ says the story of the ‘Débâcle,’ ‘ce
+général de Moltke, qui gagnait des batailles du fond de son cabinet à
+coups d’algèbre.’
+
+We afterwards made a walking tour through the Tyrol, and down to Venice.
+On our way home, while staying at Lucerne, we went up the Rigi.  Soon
+after leaving the Kulm, on our descent to the railway, which was then
+uncompleted, we lost each other in the mist.  I did not get to Vitznau
+till late at night, but luckily found a steamer just starting for
+Lucerne.  The cabin was crammed with German students, each one smoking
+his pipe and roaring choruses to alternate singers.  All of a sudden,
+those who were on their legs were knocked off them.  The panic was
+instantaneous, for every one of us knew it was a collision.  But the
+immediate peril was in the rush for the deck.  Violent with terror, rough
+by nature, and full of beer, these wild young savages were formidable to
+themselves and others.  Having arrived late, I had not got further than
+the cabin door, and was up the companion ladder at a bound.  It was pitch
+dark, and piteous screams came up from the surrounding waters.  At first
+it was impossible to guess what had happened.  Were we rammed, or were we
+rammers?  I pulled off my coats ready for a swim.  But it soon became
+apparent that we had run into and sunk another boat.
+
+The next morning the doctor and I went on to England.  A week after I
+took up the ‘Illustrated News.’  There was an account of the accident,
+with an illustration of the cabin of the sunken boat.  The bodies of
+passengers were depicted as the divers had found them.
+
+On the very day the peace was signed I chanced to call on Sir Anthony
+Rothschild in New Court.  He took me across the court to see his brother
+Lionel, the head of the firm.  Sir Anthony bowed before him as though the
+great man were Plutus himself.   He sat at a table alone, not in his own
+room, but in the immense counting-room, surrounded by a brigade of
+clerks.  This was my first introduction to him.  He took no notice of his
+brother, but received me as Napoleon received the emperors and kings at
+Erfurt—in other words, as he would have received his slippers from his
+valet, or as he did receive the telegrams which were handed to him at the
+rate of about one a minute.
+
+The King of Kings was in difficulties with a little slip of black
+sticking-plaster.  The thought of Gumpelino’s Hyacinthos, _alias_ Hirsch,
+flashed upon me.  Behold! the mighty Baron Nathan come to life again; but
+instead of Hyacinthos paring his mightiness’s _Hühneraugen_, he himself,
+in paring his own nails, had contrived to cut his finger.
+
+‘Come to buy Spanish?’ he asked, with eyes intent upon the
+sticking-plaster.
+
+‘Oh no,’ said I, ‘I’ve no money to gamble with.’
+
+‘Hasn’t Lord Leicester bought Spanish?’—never looking off the
+sticking-plaster, nor taking the smallest notice of the telegrams.
+
+‘Not that I know of.  Are they good things?’
+
+‘I don’t know; some people think so.’
+
+Here a message was handed in, and something was whispered in his ear.
+
+‘Very well, put it down.’
+
+‘From Paris,’ said Sir Anthony, guessing perhaps at its contents.
+
+But not until the plaster was comfortably adjusted did Plutus read the
+message.  He smiled and pushed it over to me.  It was the terms of peace,
+and the German bill of costs.
+
+‘£200,000,000!’ I exclaimed.  ‘That’s a heavy reckoning.  Will France
+ever be able to pay it?’
+
+‘Pay it?  Yes.  If it had been twice as much!’  And Plutus returned to
+his sticking-plaster.  That was of real importance.
+
+Last autumn—1904, the literary world was not a little gratified by an
+announcement in the ‘Times’ that the British Museum had obtained
+possession of the original manuscript of Keats’s ‘Hyperion.’  Let me tell
+the story of its discovery.  During the summer of last year, my friend
+Miss Alice Bird, who was paying me a visit at Longford, gave me this
+account of it.
+
+When Leigh Hunt’s memoirs were being edited by his son Thornton in 1861,
+he engaged the services of three intimate friends of the family to read
+and collate the enormous mass of his father’s correspondence.  Miss Alice
+Bird was one of the chosen three.  The arduous task completed, Thornton
+Hunt presented each of his three friends with a number of autographic
+letters, which, according to Miss Bird’s description, he took almost at
+random from the eliminated pile.  Amongst the lot that fell to Miss
+Bird’s share was a roll of stained paper tied up with tape.  This she was
+led to suppose—she never carefully examined it—might be either a copy or
+a draft of some friend’s unpublished poem.
+
+The unknown treasure was put away in a drawer with the rest.  Here it
+remained undisturbed for forty-three years.  Having now occasion to
+remove these papers, she opened the forgotten scroll, and was at once
+struck both with the words of the ‘Hyperion,’ and with the resemblance of
+the writing to Keats’s.
+
+She forthwith consulted the Keepers of the Manuscripts in the British
+Museum, with the result that her _trouvaille_ was immediately identified
+as the poet’s own draft of the ‘Hyperion.’  The responsible authorities
+soon after, offered the fortunate possessor five hundred guineas for the
+manuscript, but courteously and honestly informed her that, were it put
+up to auction, some American collector would be almost sure to give a
+much larger sum for it.
+
+Miss Bird’s patriotism prevailed over every other consideration.  She
+expressed her wish that the poem should be retained in England; and
+generously accepted what was indubitably less than its market value.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+
+A MAN whom I had known from my school-days, Frederick Thistlethwayte,
+coming into a huge fortune when a subaltern in a marching regiment, had
+impulsively married a certain Miss Laura Bell.  In her early days, when
+she made her first appearance in London and in Paris, Laura Bell’s
+extraordinary beauty was as much admired by painters as by men of the
+world.  Amongst her reputed lovers were Dhuleep Singh, the famous Marquis
+of Hertford, and Prince Louis Napoleon.  She was the daughter of an Irish
+constable, and began life on the stage at Dublin.  Her Irish wit and
+sparkling merriment, her cajolery, her good nature and her feminine
+artifice, were attractions which, in the eyes of the male sex, fully
+atoned for her youthful indiscretions.
+
+My intimacy with both Mr. and Mrs. Thistlethwayte extended over many
+years; and it is but justice to her memory to aver that, to the best of
+my belief, no wife was ever more faithful to her husband.  I speak of the
+Thistlethwaytes here for two reasons—absolutely unconnected in
+themselves, yet both interesting in their own way.  The first is, that at
+my friend’s house in Grosvenor Square I used frequently to meet Mr.
+Gladstone, sometimes alone, sometimes at dinner.  As may be supposed, the
+dinner parties were of men, but mostly of men eminent in public life.
+The last time I met Mr. Gladstone there the Duke of Devonshire and Sir W.
+Harcourt were both present.  I once dined with Mrs. Thistlethwayte in the
+absence of her husband, when the only others were Munro of Novar—the
+friend of Turner, and the envied possessor of a splendid gallery of his
+pictures—and the Duke of Newcastle—then a Cabinet Minister.  Such were
+the notabilities whom the famous beauty gathered about her.
+
+But it is of Mr. Gladstone that I would say a word.  The fascination
+which he exercised over most of those who came into contact with him is
+incontestable; and everyone is entitled to his own opinion, even though
+unable to account for it.  This, at least, must be my plea, for to me,
+Mr. Gladstone was more or less a Dr. Fell.  Neither in his public nor in
+his private capacity had I any liking for him.  Nobody cares a button for
+what a ‘man in the street’ like me says or thinks on subject matters upon
+which they have made up their minds.  I should not venture, even as one
+of the crowd, to deprecate a popularity which I believe to be fast
+passing away, were it not that better judges and wiser men think as I do,
+and have represented opinions which I sincerely share.  ‘He was born,’
+says Huxley, ‘to be a leader of men, and he has debased himself to be a
+follower of the masses.  If working men were to-day to vote by a majority
+that two and two made five, to-morrow Gladstone would believe it, and
+find them reasons for it which they had never dreamt of.’  Could any
+words be truer?  Yes; he was not born to be a leader of men.  He was born
+to be, what he was—a misleader of men.  Huxley says he could be made to
+believe that two and two made five.  He would try to make others believe
+it; but would he himself believe it?  His friends will plead, ‘he might
+deceive himself by the excessive subtlety of his mind.’  This is the
+charitable view to take.  But some who knew him long and well put another
+construction upon this facile self-deception.  There were, and are,
+honourable men of the highest standing who failed to ascribe
+disinterested motives to the man who suddenly and secretly betrayed his
+colleagues, his party, and his closest friends, and tried to break up the
+Empire to satisfy an inordinate ambition, and an insatiable craving for
+power.  ‘He might have been mistaken, but he acted for the best’?   Was
+he acting conscientiously for the best in persuading the ‘masses’ to look
+upon the ‘classes’—the war cries are of his coining—as their natural
+enemies, and worthy only of their envy and hatred?  Is this the part of a
+statesman, of a patriot?
+
+And for what else shall we admire Mr. Gladstone?  Walter Bagehot,
+alluding to his egotism, wrote of him in his lifetime, ‘He longs to pour
+forth his own belief; he cannot rest till he has contradicted everyone
+else.’  And what was that belief worth?  ‘He has scarcely,’ says the same
+writer, ‘given us a sentence that lives in the memory.’
+
+Even his eloquent advocate, Mr. Morley, confesses surprise at his
+indifference to the teaching of evolution; in other words, his ignorance
+of, and disbelief in, a scientific theory of nature which has modified
+the theological and moral creeds of the civilised world more profoundly
+than did the Copernican system of the Universe.
+
+The truth is, Mr. Gladstone was half a century behind the age in
+everything that most deeply concerned the destiny of man.  He was a
+politician, and nothing but a politician; and had it not been for his
+extraordinary gift of speech, we should never have heard of him save as a
+writer of scholia, or as a college don, perhaps.  Not for such is the
+temple of Fame.
+
+    Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa.
+
+Whatever may be thought now, Mr. Gladstone is not the man whom posterity
+will ennoble with the title of either ‘great’ or ‘good.’
+
+My second reason for mentioning Frederick Thistlethwayte was one which at
+first sight may seem trivial, and yet, when we look into it, is of more
+importance than the renown of an ex-Prime Minister.  If these pages are
+ever read, what follows will be as distasteful to some of my own friends
+as the above remarks to Mr. Gladstone’s.
+
+Pardon a word about the writer himself—it is needed to emphasise and
+justify these _obiter dicta_.  I was brought up as a sportsman: I cannot
+remember the days when I began to shoot.  I had a passion for all kinds
+of sport, and have had opportunities of gratifying it such as fall to the
+lot of few.  After the shootings of Glenquoich and Invergarry were lost
+to me through the death of Mr. Ellice, I became almost the sole guest of
+Mr. Thistlethwayte for twelve years at his Highland shooting of
+Kinlochmohr, not very far from Fort William.  He rented the splendid deer
+forest of Mamore, extensive grouse moors, and a salmon river within ten
+minutes’ walk of the lodge.  His marriage and his eccentricities of mind
+and temper led him to shun all society.  We often lived in bothies at
+opposite ends of the forest, returning to the lodge on Saturday till
+Monday morning.  For a sportsman, no life could be more enjoyable.  I was
+my own stalker, taking a couple of gillies for the ponies, but finding
+the deer for myself—always the most difficult part of the sport—and
+stalking them for myself.
+
+I may here observe that, not very long after I married, qualms of
+conscience smote me as to the justifiability of killing, _and wounding_,
+animals for amusement’s sake.  The more I thought of it, the less it bore
+thinking about.  Finally I gave it up altogether.  But I went on several
+years after this with the deer-stalking; the true explanation of this
+inconsistency would, I fear, be that I had had enough of the one, but
+would never have enough of the other—one’s conscience adapts itself
+without much difficulty to one’s inclinations.
+
+Between my host and myself, there was a certain amount of rivalry; and as
+the head forester was his stalker, the rivalry between our men aroused
+rancorous jealousy.  I think the gillies on either side would have spoilt
+the others’ sport, could they have done so with impunity.  For two
+seasons, a very big stag used occasionally to find its way into our
+forest from the Black Mount, where it was also known.  Thistlethwayte had
+had a chance, and missed it; then my turn came.  I got a long snap-shot
+end on at the galloping stag.  It was an unsportsmanlike thing to do, but
+considering the rivalry and other temptations I fired, and hit the beast
+in the haunch.  It was late in the day, and the wounded animal escaped.
+
+Nine days later I spied the ‘big stag’ again.  He was nearly in the
+middle of a herd of about twenty, mostly hinds, on the look-out.  They
+were on a large open moss at the bottom of a corrie, whence they could
+see a moving object on every side of them.  A stalk where they were was
+out of the question.  I made up my mind to wait and watch.
+
+Now comes the moral of my story.  For hours I watched that stag.  Though
+three hundred yards or so away from me, I could through my glass see
+almost the expression of his face.  Not once did he rise or attempt to
+feed, but lay restlessly beating his head upon the ground for hour after
+hour.  I knew well enough what that meant.  I could not hear his groans.
+His plaints could not reach my ears, but they reached my heart.  The
+refrain varied little: ‘How long shall I cry and Thou wilt not
+hear?’—that was the monotonous burden of the moans, though sometimes I
+fancied it changed to: ‘Lord how long shall the wicked, how long shall
+the wicked triumph?’
+
+The evening came, and then, as is their habit, the deer began to feed up
+wind.  The wounded stag seemed loth to stir.  By degrees the last
+watchful hind fed quietly out of sight.  With throbbing pulse and with
+the instincts of a fox—or prehistoric man, ’tis all the same—I crawled
+and dragged myself through the peat bog and the pools of water.  But
+nearer than two hundred yards it was impossible to get; even to raise my
+head or find a tussock whereon to rest the rifle would have started any
+deer but this one.  From the hollow I was in, the most I could see of him
+was the outline of his back and his head and neck.  I put up the 200
+yards sight and killed him.
+
+A vivid description of the body is not desirable.  It was almost
+fleshless, wasted away, except his wounded haunch.  That was nearly twice
+its normal size; about one half of it was maggots.  The stench drove us
+all away.  This I had done, and I had done it for my pleasure!
+
+After that year I went no more to Scotland.  I blame no one for his
+pursuit of sport.  But I submit that he must follow it, if at all, with
+Reason’s eyes shut.  Happily, your true sportsman does not violate his
+conscience.  As a friend of mine said to me the other day, ‘Unless you
+give a man of that kind something to kill, his own life is not worth
+having.’  This, to be sure, is all he has to think about.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+
+FOR eight or nine years, while my sons were at school, I lived at
+Rickmansworth.  Unfortunately the Leweses had just left it.  Moor Park
+belonged to Lord Ebury, my wife’s uncle, and the beauties of its
+magnificent park and the amenities of its charming house were at all
+times open to us, and freely taken advantage of.  During those nine years
+I lived the life of a student, and wrote and published the book I have
+elsewhere spoken of, the ‘Creeds of the Day.’
+
+Of the visitors of note whose acquaintance I made while I was staying at
+Moor Park, by far the most illustrious was Froude.  He was too reserved a
+man to lavish his intimacy when taken unawares; and if he suspected, as
+he might have done by my probing, that one wanted to draw him out, he was
+much too shrewd to commit himself to definite expressions of any kind
+until he knew something of his interviewer.  Reticence of this kind, on
+the part of such a man, is both prudent and commendable.  But is not this
+habit of cautiousness sometimes carried to the extent of ambiguity in his
+‘Short Studies on Great Subjects’?  The careful reader is left in no sort
+of doubt as to Froude’s own views upon Biblical criticism, as to his
+theological dogmas, or his speculative opinions.  But the conviction is
+only reached by comparing him with himself in different moods, by
+collating essay with essay, and one part of an essay with another part of
+the same essay.  Sometimes we have an astute defence of doctrines worthy
+at least of a temperate apologist, and a few pages further on we wonder
+whether the writer was not masking his disdain for the credulity which he
+now exposes and laughs at.  Neither excessive caution nor timidity are
+implied by his editing of the Carlyle papers; and he may have failed—who
+that has done so much has not?—in keeping his balance on the swaying
+slack-rope between the judicious and the injudicious.  In his own line,
+however, he is, to my taste, the most scholarly, the most refined, and
+the most suggestive, of our recent essayists.  The man himself in manner
+and in appearance was in perfect keeping with these attractive qualities.
+
+While speaking of Moor Park and its kind owner I may avail myself of this
+opportunity to mention an early reminiscence of Lord Ebury’s concerning
+the Grosvenor estate in London.
+
+Mr. Gladstone was wont to amuse himself with speculations as to the
+future dimensions of London; what had been its growth within his memory;
+what causes might arise to cheek its increase.  After listening to his
+remarks on the subject one day at dinner, I observed that I had heard
+Lord Ebury talk of shooting over ground which is now Eaton Square.  Mr.
+Gladstone of course did not doubt it; but some of the young men smiled
+incredulously.  I afterwards wrote to Lord Ebury to make sure that I had
+not erred.  Here is his reply:
+
+                               ‘Moor Park, Rickmansworth: January 9, 1883.
+
+    ‘My dear Henry,—What you said I had told you about snipe-shooting is
+    quite true, though I think I ought to have mentioned a space rather
+    nearer the river than Eaton Square.  In the year 1815, when the
+    battle of Waterloo was fought, there was nothing behind Grosvenor
+    Place but the (—?) fields—so called, a place something like the
+    Scrubbs, where the household troops drilled.  That part of Grosvenor
+    Place where the Grosvenor Place houses now stand was occupied by the
+    Lock Hospital and Chapel, and it ended where the small houses are now
+    to be found.  A little farther, a somewhat tortuous lane called the
+    King’s Road led to Chelsea, and, I think, where now St. Peter’s,
+    Pimlico, was afterwards built.  I remember going to a breakfast at a
+    villa belonging to Lady Buckinghamshire.  The Chelsea Waterworks
+    Company had a sort of marshy place with canals and osier beds, now, I
+    suppose, Ebury Street, and here it was that I was permitted to go and
+    try my hand at snipe-shooting, a special privilege given to the son
+    of the freeholder.
+
+    ‘The successful fox-hunt terminating in either Bedford or Russell
+    Square is very strange, but quite appropriate, commemorated, I
+    suppose, by the statue {342} there erected.
+
+                                                     Yours affectionately,
+                                                                      ‘E.’
+
+The successful ‘fox-hunt’ was an event of which I told Lord Ebury as even
+more remarkable than his snipe-shooting in Belgravia.  As it is still
+more indicative of the growth of London in recent times it may be here
+recorded.
+
+In connection with Mr. Gladstone’s forecasts, I had written to the last
+Lord Digby, who was a grandson of my father’s, stating that I had
+heard—whether from my father or not I could not say—that he had killed a
+fox where now is Bedford Square, with his own hounds.
+
+Lord Digby replied:
+
+                                       ‘Minterne, Dorset: January 7, 1883.
+
+    ‘My dear Henry,—My grandfather killed a fox with his hounds either in
+    Bedford or Russell Square.  Old Jones, the huntsman, who died at
+    Holkham when you were a child, was my informant.  I asked my
+    grandfather if it was correct.  He said “Yes”—he had kennels at
+    Epping Place, and hunted the roodings of Essex, which, he said, was
+    the best scenting-ground in England.
+
+                                                    ‘Yours affectionately,
+                                                                  ‘DIGBY.’
+
+(My father was born in 1754.)
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+Mr. W. S. Gilbert had been a much valued friend of ours before we lived
+at Rickmansworth.  We had been his guests for the ‘first night’ of almost
+every one of his plays—plays that may have a thousand imitators, but the
+speciality of whose excellence will remain unrivalled and inimitable.
+His visits to us introduced him, I think, to the picturesque country
+which he has now made his home.  When Mr. Gilbert built his house in
+Harrington Gardens he easily persuaded us to build next door to him.
+This led to my acquaintance with his neighbour on the other side, Mr.
+Walter Cassels, now well known as the author of ‘Supernatural Religion.’
+
+When first published in 1874, this learned work, summarising and
+elaborately examining the higher criticism of the four Gospels up to
+date, created a sensation throughout the theological world, which was not
+a little intensified by the anonymity of its author.  The virulence with
+which it was attacked by Dr. Lightfoot, the most erudite bishop on the
+bench, at once demonstrated its weighty significance and its destructive
+force; while Mr. Morley’s high commendation of its literary merits and
+the scrupulous equity of its tone, placed it far above the level of
+controversial diatribes.
+
+In my ‘Creeds of the Day’ I had made frequent references to the anonymous
+book; and soon after my introduction to Mr. Cassels spoke to him of its
+importance, and asked him whether he had read it.  He hesitated for a
+moment, then said:
+
+‘We are very much of the same way of thinking on these subjects.  I will
+tell you a secret which I kept for some time even from my publishers—I am
+the author of “Supernatural Religion.”’
+
+From that time forth, we became the closest of allies.  I know no man
+whose tastes and opinions and interests are more completely in accord
+with my own than those of Mr. Walter Cassels.  It is one of my greatest
+pleasures to meet him every summer at the beautiful place of our mutual
+and sympathetic friend, Mrs. Robertson, on the skirts of the Ashtead
+forest, in Surrey.
+
+The winter of 1888 I spent at Cairo under the roof of General Sir
+Frederick Stephenson, then commanding the English forces in Egypt.  I had
+known Sir Frederick as an ensign in the Guards.  He was adjutant of his
+regiment at the Alma, and at Inkerman.  He is now Colonel of the
+Coldstreams and Governor of the Tower.  He has often been given a still
+higher title, that of ‘the most popular man in the army.’
+
+Everybody in these days has seen the Pyramids, and has been up the Nile.
+There is only one name I have to mention here, and that is one of the
+best-known in the world.  Mr. Thomas Cook was the son of the original
+inventor of the ‘Globe-trotter.’  But it was the extraordinary energy and
+powers of organisation of the son that enabled him to develop to its
+present efficiency the initial scheme of the father.
+
+Shortly before the General’s term expired, he invited Mr. Cook to dinner.
+The Nile share of the Gordon Relief Expedition had been handed over to
+Cook.  The boats, the provisioning of them, and the river transport
+service up to Wady Halfa, were contracted for and undertaken by Cook.
+
+A most entertaining account he gave of the whole affair.  He told us how
+the Mudir of Dongola, who was by way of rendering every possible
+assistance, had offered him an enormous bribe to wreck the most valuable
+cargoes on their passage through the Cataracts.
+
+Before Mr. Cook took leave of the General, he expressed the regret felt
+by the British residents in Cairo at the termination of Sir Frederick’s
+command; and wound up a pretty little speech by a sincere request that he
+might be allowed to furnish Sir Frederick _gratis_ with all the means at
+his disposal for a tour through the Holy Land.  The liberal and highly
+complimentary offer was gratefully acknowledged, but at once emphatically
+declined.  The old soldier, (at least, this was my guess,) brave in all
+else, had not the courage to face the tourists’ profanation of such
+sacred scenes.
+
+Dr. Bird told me a nice story, a pendant to this, of Mr. Thomas Cook’s
+liberality.  One day, before the Gordon Expedition, which was then in the
+air, Dr. Bird was smoking his cigarette on the terrace in front of
+Shepherd’s Hotel, in company with four or five other men, strangers to
+him and to one another.  A discussion arose as to the best means of
+relieving Gordon.  Each had his own favourite general.  Presently the
+doctor exclaimed: ‘Why don’t they put the thing into the hands of Cook?
+I’ll be bound to say he would undertake it, and do the job better than
+anyone else.’
+
+‘Do you know Cook, sir?’ asked one of the smokers who had hitherto been
+silent.
+
+‘No, I never saw him, but everybody knows he has a genius for
+organisation; and I don’t believe there is a general in the British Army
+to match him.’
+
+When the company broke up, the silent stranger asked the doctor his name
+and address, and introduced himself as Thomas Cook.  The following winter
+Dr. Bird received a letter enclosing tickets for himself and Miss Bird
+for a trip to Egypt and back, free of expense, ‘in return for his good
+opinion and good wishes.’
+
+After my General’s departure, and a month up the Nile, I—already
+disillusioned, alas!—rode through Syria, following the beaten track from
+Jerusalem to Damascus.  On my way from Alexandria to Jaffa I had the good
+fortune to make the acquaintance of an agreeable fellow-traveller, Mr.
+Henry Lopes, afterwards member for Northampton, also bound for Palestine.
+We went to Constantinople and to the Crimea together, then through
+Greece, and only parted at Charing Cross.
+
+It was easy to understand Sir Frederick Stephenson’s (supposed)
+unwillingness to visit Jerusalem.  It was probably far from being what it
+is now, or even what it was when Pierre Loti saw it, for there was no
+railway from Jaffa in our time.  Still, what Loti pathetically describes
+as ‘une banalité de banlieue parisienne,’ was even then too painfully
+casting its vulgar shadows before it.  And it was rather with the forlorn
+eyes of the sentimental Frenchman than with the veneration of Dean
+Stanley, that we wandered about the ever-sacred Aceldama of mortally
+wounded and dying Christianity.
+
+One dares not, one could never, speak irreverently of Jerusalem.  One
+cannot think heartlessly of a disappointed love.  One cannot tear out
+creeds interwoven with the tenderest fibres of one’s heart.  It is better
+to be silent.  Yet is it a place for unwept tears, for the deep sadness
+and hard resignation borne in upon us by the eternal loss of something
+dearer once than life.  All we who are weary and heavy laden, in whom now
+shall we seek the rest which is not nothingness?
+
+My story is told, but I fain would take my leave with words less
+sorrowful.  If a man has no better legacy to bequeath than bid his
+fellow-beings despair, he had better take it with him to his grave.
+
+    We know all this, we know!
+
+But it is in what we do not know that our hope and our religion lies.
+Thrice blessed are we in the certainty that here our range is infinite.
+This infinite that makes our brains reel, that begets the feeling that
+makes us ‘shrink,’ is perhaps the most portentous argument in the logic
+of the sceptic.  Since the days of Laplace, we have been haunted in some
+form or other with the ghost of the _Mécanique Céleste_.  Take one or two
+commonplaces from the text-books of astronomy:
+
+Every half-hour we are about ten thousand miles nearer to the
+constellation of Lyra.  ‘The sun and his system must travel at his
+present rate for far more than a million years (divide this into
+half-hours) before we have crossed the abyss between our present position
+and the frontiers of Lyra’ (Ball’s ‘Story of the Heavens’).
+
+‘Sirius is about one million times as far from us as the sun.  If we take
+the distance of Sirius from the earth and subdivide it into one million
+equal parts, each of these parts would be long enough to span the great
+distance of 92,700,000 miles from the earth to the sun,’ yet Sirius is
+one of the _nearest_ of the stars to us.
+
+The velocity with which light traverses space is 186,300 miles a second,
+at which rate it has taken the rays from Sirius which we may see
+to-night, nine years to reach us.  The proper motion of Sirius through
+space is about one thousand miles a minute.  Yet ‘careful alignment of
+the eye would hardly detect that Sirius was moving, in . . . even three
+or four centuries.’
+
+‘There may be, and probably are, stars from which Noah might be seen
+stepping into the Ark, Eve listening to the temptation of the serpent, or
+that older race, eating the oysters and leaving the shell-heaps behind
+them, when the Baltic was an open sea’ (Froude’s ‘Science of History’).
+
+Facts and figures such as these simply stupefy us.  They vaguely convey
+the idea of something immeasurably great, but nothing further.  They have
+no more effect upon us than words addressed to some poor ‘bewildered
+creature, stunned and paralysed by awe; no more than the sentence of
+death to the terror-stricken wretch at the bar.  Indeed, it is in this
+sense that the sceptic uses them for our warning.
+
+‘Seit Kopernikus,’ says Schopenhauer, ‘kommen die Theologen mit dem
+lieben Gott in Verlegenheit.’  ‘No one,’ he adds, ‘has so damaged Theism
+as Copernicus.’  As if limitation and imperfection in the celestial
+mechanism would make for the belief in God; or, as if immortality were
+incompatible with dependence.  Des Cartes, for one, (and he counts for
+many,) held just the opposite opinion.
+
+Our sun and all the millions upon millions of suns whose light will never
+reach us are but the aggregation of atoms drawn together by the same
+force that governs their orbit, and which makes the apple fall.  When
+their heat, however generated, is expended, they die to frozen cinders;
+possibly to be again diffused as nebulæ, to begin again the eternal round
+of change.
+
+What is life amidst this change?  ‘When I consider the work of Thy
+fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast ordained, what is man
+that Thou art mindful of him?’
+
+But is He mindful of us?  That is what the sceptic asks.  Is He mindful
+of life here or anywhere in all this boundless space?  We have no ground
+for supposing (so we are told) that life, if it exists at all elsewhere,
+in the solar system at least, is any better than it is here?  ‘Analogy
+compels us to think,’ says M. France, one of the most thoughtful of
+living writers, ‘that our entire solar system is a gehenna where the
+animal is born for suffering. . . .  This alone would suffice to disgust
+me with the universe.’  But M. France is too deep a thinker to abide by
+such a verdict.  There must be something ‘behind the veil.’  ‘Je sens que
+ces immensités ne sont rien, et qu’enfin, s’il y a quelque chose, ce
+quelque chose n’est pas ce que nous voyons.’  That is it.  All these
+immensities are not ‘rien,’ but they are assuredly not what we take them
+to be.  They are the veil of the Infinite, behind which we are not
+permitted to see.
+
+    It were the seeing Him, no flesh shall dare.
+
+The very greatness proves our impotence to grasp it, proves the futility
+of our speculations, and should help us best of all though outwardly so
+appalling, to stand calm while the snake of unbelief writhes beneath our
+feet.  The unutterable insignificance of man and his little world
+connotes the infinity which leaves his possibilities as limitless as
+itself.
+
+Spectrology informs us that the chemical elements of matter are
+everywhere the same; and in a boundless universe where such unity is
+manifested there must be conditions similar to those which support life
+here.  It is impossible to doubt, on these grounds alone, that life does
+exist elsewhere.  Were we rashly to assume from scientific data that no
+form of animal life could obtain except under conditions similar to our
+own, would not reason rebel at such an inference, on the mere ground that
+to assume that there is no conscious being in the universe save man, is
+incomparably more unwarrantable, and in itself incredible?
+
+Admitting, then, the hypothesis of the universal distribution of life,
+has anyone the hardihood to believe that this is either the best or worst
+of worlds?  Must we not suppose that life exists in every stage of
+progress, in every state of imperfection, and, conversely, of
+advancement?  Have we still the audacity to believe with the ancient
+Israelites, or as the Church of Rome believed only three centuries ago,
+that the universe was made for us, and we its centre?  Or must we not
+believe that—infinity given—the stages and degrees of life are infinite
+as their conditions?  And where is this to stop?  There is no halting
+place for imagination till we reach the _Anima Mundi_, the infinite and
+eternal Spirit from which all Being emanates.
+
+The materialist and the sceptic have forcible arguments on their side.
+They appeal to experience and to common sense, and ask pathetically, yet
+triumphantly, whether aspiration, however fervid, is a pledge for its
+validity, ‘or does being weary prove that he hath where to rest?’  They
+smile at the flights of poetry and imagination, and love to repeat:
+
+    Fools! that so often here
+    Happiness mocked our prayer,
+    I think might make us fear
+    A like event elsewhere;
+    Make us not fly to dreams, but moderate desire.
+
+But then, if the other view is true, the Elsewhere is not the Here, nor
+is there any conceivable likeness between the two.  It is not mere
+repugnance to truths, or speculations rather, which we dread, that makes
+us shrink from a creed so shallow, so palpably inept, as atheism.  There
+are many sides to our nature, and I see not that reason, doubtless our
+trustiest guide, has one syllable to utter against our loftiest hopes.
+Our higher instincts are just as much a part of us as any that we listen
+to; and reason, to the end, can never dogmatise with what it is not
+conversant.
+
+
+
+
+FOOTNOTES
+
+
+{342}  Alluding to the statue of Fox.
+
+
+
+
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+<title>Tracks of a Rolling Stone, by Henry J. Coke</title>
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+
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Tracks of a Rolling Stone, by Henry J. Coke
+
+
+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: Tracks of a Rolling Stone
+
+
+Author: Henry J. Coke
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 8, 2012  [eBook #497]
+[This file was first posted on February 24, 1996]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRACKS OF A ROLLING STONE***
+</pre>
+<p>Transcribed from the 1905 Smith, Elder, &amp; Co. edition by
+David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org.&nbsp; Second proofed by
+Margaret Price.</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">
+<a href="images/p0b.jpg">
+<img alt=
+"Photograph of Henry John Coke"
+title=
+"Photograph of Henry John Coke"
+src="images/p0s.jpg" />
+</a></p>
+<h1>TRACKS<br />
+<span class="GutSmall">OF</span><br />
+A ROLLING STONE</h1>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY
+THE</span><br />
+HONOURABLE HENRY J. COKE</p>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">AUTHOR
+OF</span><br />
+<span class="GutSmall">&lsquo;A RIDE OVER THE ROCKY
+MOUNTAINS&rsquo; &lsquo;CREEDS OF THE DAY&rsquo; ETC.</span></p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center">WITH A PORTRAIT</p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><i>SECOND EDITION</i></p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center">LONDON<br />
+SMITH, ELDER, &amp; CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE<br />
+1905</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">[All rights reserved]</p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">TO</span><br
+/>
+MY DAUGHTER SYBIL</p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<h2>PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> First Edition of this book was
+written, from beginning to end, in the short space of five
+months, without the aid of diary or notes, beyond those cited as
+such from a former work.</p>
+<p>The Author, having no expectation that his reminiscences would
+be received with the kind indulgence of which this Second Edition
+is the proof, with diffidence ventured to tell so many tales
+connected with his own unimportant life as he has done.&nbsp;
+Emboldened by the reception his &lsquo;Tracks&rsquo; have met
+with, he now adds a few stories which he trusts may further amuse
+its readers.</p>
+<p><i>June</i> 1905.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> know more of the early days of
+the Pyramids or of ancient Babylon than we do of our own.&nbsp;
+The Stone age, the dragons of the prime, are not more remote from
+us than is our earliest childhood.&nbsp; It is not so long ago
+for any of us; and yet, our memories of it are but veiled
+spectres wandering in the mazes of some foregone existence.</p>
+<p>Are we really trailing clouds of glory from afar?&nbsp; Or are
+our &lsquo;forgettings&rsquo; of the outer Eden only?&nbsp; Or,
+setting poetry aside, are they perhaps the quickening germs of
+all past heredity&mdash;an epitome of our race and its
+descent?&nbsp; At any rate <i>then</i>, if ever, our lives are
+such stuff as dreams are made of.&nbsp; There is no connected
+story of events, thoughts, acts, or feelings.&nbsp; We try in
+vain to re-collect; but the secrets of the grave are not more
+inviolable,&mdash;for the beginnings, like the endings, of life
+are lost in darkness.</p>
+<p>It is very difficult to affix a date to any relic of that dim
+past.&nbsp; We may have a distinct remembrance of some pleasure,
+some pain, some fright, some accident, but the vivid does not
+help us to chronicle with accuracy.&nbsp; A year or two makes a
+vast difference in our ability.&nbsp; We can remember well enough
+when we donned the &lsquo;<i>cauda virilis</i>,&rsquo; but not
+when we left off petticoats.</p>
+<p>The first remembrance to which I can correctly tack a date is
+the death of George IV.&nbsp; I was between three and four years
+old.&nbsp; My recollection of the fact is perfectly
+distinct&mdash;distinct by its association with other facts, then
+far more weighty to me than the death of a king.</p>
+<p>I was watching with rapture, for the first time, the spinning
+of a peg-top by one of the grooms in the stable yard, when the
+coachman, who had just driven my mother home, announced the
+historic news.&nbsp; In a few minutes four or five
+servants&mdash;maids and men&mdash;came running to the stables to
+learn particulars, and the peg-top, to my sorrow, had to be
+abandoned for gossip and flirtation.&nbsp; We were a long way
+from street criers&mdash;indeed, quite out of town.&nbsp; My
+father&rsquo;s house was in Kensington, a little further west
+than the present museum.&nbsp; It was completely surrounded by
+fields and hedges.&nbsp; I mention the fact merely to show to
+what age definite memory can be authentically assigned.&nbsp;
+Doubtless we have much earlier remembrances, though we must
+reckon these by days, or by months at the outside.&nbsp; The
+relativity of the reckoning would seem to make Time indeed a
+&lsquo;Form of Thought.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Two or three reminiscences of my childhood have stuck to me;
+some of them on account of their comicality.&nbsp; I was taken to
+a children&rsquo;s ball at St. James&rsquo;s Palace.&nbsp; In my
+mind&rsquo;s eye I have but one distinct vision of it.&nbsp; I
+cannot see the crowd&mdash;there was nothing to distinguish that
+from what I have so often seen since; nor the court dresses, nor
+the soldiers even, who always attract a child&rsquo;s attention
+in the streets; but I see a raised dais on which were two
+thrones.&nbsp; William IV. sat on one, Queen Adelaide on the
+other.&nbsp; I cannot say whether we were marched past in turn,
+or how I came there.&nbsp; But I remember the look of the king in
+his naval uniform.&nbsp; I remember his white kerseymere
+breeches, and pink silk stockings, and buckled shoes.&nbsp; He
+took me between his knees, and asked, &lsquo;Well, what are you
+going to be, my little man?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;A sailor,&rsquo; said I, with brazen simplicity.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Going to avenge the death of Nelson&mdash;eh?&nbsp;
+Fond o&rsquo; sugar-plums?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Ye-es,&rsquo; said I, taking a mental inventory of
+stars and anchor buttons.</p>
+<p>Upon this, he fetched from the depths of his waistcoat pocket
+a capacious gold box, and opened it with a tap, as though he were
+about to offer me a pinch of snuff.&nbsp; &lsquo;There&rsquo;s
+for you,&rsquo; said he.</p>
+<p>I helped myself, unawed by the situation, and with my small
+fist clutching the bonbons, was passed on to Queen
+Adelaide.&nbsp; She gave me a kiss, for form&rsquo;s sake, I
+thought; and I scuttled back to my mother.</p>
+<p>But here followed the shocking part of the <i>enfant
+terrible&rsquo;s</i> adventure.&nbsp; Not quite sure of Her
+Majesty&rsquo;s identity&mdash;I had never heard there was a
+Queen&mdash;I na&iuml;vely asked my mother, in a very audible
+stage-whisper, &lsquo;Who is the old lady
+with&mdash;?&rsquo;&nbsp; My mother dragged me off the instant
+she had made her curtsey.&nbsp; She had a quick sense of humour;
+and, judging from her laughter, when she told her story to
+another lady in the supper room, I fancied I had said or done
+something very funny.&nbsp; I was rather disconcerted at being
+seriously admonished, and told I must never again comment upon
+the breath of ladies who condescended to kiss, or to speak to,
+me.</p>
+<p>While we lived at Kensington, Lord Anglesey used often to pay
+my mother a visit.&nbsp; She had told me the story of the battle
+of Waterloo, in which my Uncle George&mdash;6th Lord
+Albemarle&mdash;had taken part; and related how Lord Anglesey had
+lost a leg there, and how one of his legs was made of cork.&nbsp;
+Lord Anglesey was a great dandy.&nbsp; The cut of the Paget hat
+was an heirloom for the next generation or two, and the gallant
+Marquis&rsquo; boots and tightly-strapped trousers were patterns
+of polish and precision.&nbsp; The limp was perceptible; but of
+which leg, was, in spite of careful investigation, beyond my
+diagnosis.&nbsp; His presence provoked my curiosity, till one
+fine day it became too strong for resistance.&nbsp; While he was
+busily engaged in conversation with my mother, I, watching for
+the chance, sidled up to his chair, and as soon as he looked
+away, rammed my heel on to his toes.&nbsp; They were his
+toes.&nbsp; And considering the jump and the oath which instantly
+responded to my test, I am persuaded they were abnormally tender
+ones.&nbsp; They might have been made of corns, certainly not of
+cork.</p>
+<p>Another discovery I made about this period was, for me at
+least, a &lsquo;record&rsquo;: it happened at Quidenham&mdash;my
+grandfather the 4th Lord Albemarle&rsquo;s place.</p>
+<p>Some excursion was afoot, which needed an early
+breakfast.&nbsp; When this was half over, one married couple were
+missing.&nbsp; My grandfather called me to him (I was playing
+with another small boy in one of the window bays).&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Go and tell Lady Maria, with my love,&rsquo; said he,
+&lsquo;that we shall start in half an hour.&nbsp; Stop, stop a
+minute.&nbsp; Be sure you knock at the door.&rsquo;&nbsp; I
+obeyed orders&mdash;I knocked at the door, but failed to wait for
+an answer.&nbsp; I entered without it.&nbsp; And what did I
+behold?&nbsp; Lady Maria was still in bed; and by the side of
+Lady M. was, very naturally, Lady M.&rsquo;s husband, also in bed
+and fast asleep.&nbsp; At first I could hardly believe my
+senses.&nbsp; It was within the range of my experience that boys
+of my age occasionally slept in the same bed.&nbsp; But that a
+grown up man should sleep in the same bed with his wife was quite
+beyond my notion of the fitness of things.&nbsp; I was so
+staggered, so long in taking in this astounding novelty, that I
+could not at first deliver my grandfathers message.&nbsp; The
+moment I had done so, I rushed back to the breakfast room, and in
+a loud voice proclaimed to the company what I had seen.&nbsp; My
+tale produced all the effect I had anticipated, but mainly in the
+shape of amusement.&nbsp; One wag&mdash;my uncle Henry
+Keppel&mdash;asked for details, gravely declaring he could hardly
+credit my statement.&nbsp; Every one, however, seemed convinced
+by the circumstantial nature of my evidence when I positively
+asserted that their heads were not even at opposite ends of the
+bed, but side by side upon the same pillow.</p>
+<p>A still greater soldier than Lord Anglesey used to come to
+Holkham every year, a great favourite of my father&rsquo;s; this
+was Lord Lynedoch.&nbsp; My earliest recollections of him owe
+their vividness to three accidents&mdash;in the logical sense of
+the term: his silky milk-white locks, his Spanish servant who
+wore earrings&mdash;and whom, by the way, I used to confound with
+Courvoisier, often there at the same time with his master Lord
+William Russell, for the murder of whom he was hanged, as all the
+world knows&mdash;and his fox terrier Nettle, which, as a special
+favour, I was allowed to feed with Abernethy biscuits.</p>
+<p>He was at Longford, my present home, on a visit to my father
+in 1835, when, one evening after dinner, the two old
+gentlemen&mdash;no one else being present but
+myself&mdash;sitting in armchairs over the fire, finishing their
+bottle of port, Lord Lynedoch told the wonderful story of his
+adventures during the siege of Mantua by the French, in
+1796.&nbsp; For brevity&rsquo;s sake, it were better perhaps to
+give the outline in the words of Alison.&nbsp; &lsquo;It was high
+time the Imperialists should advance to the relief of this
+fortress, which was now reduced to the last extremity from want
+of provisions.&nbsp; At a council of war held in the end of
+December, it was decided that it was indispensable that instant
+intelligence should be sent to Alvinzi of their desperate
+situation.&nbsp; An English officer, attached to the garrison,
+volunteered to perform the perilous mission, which he executed
+with equal courage and success.&nbsp; He set out, disguised as a
+peasant, from Mantua on December 29, at nightfall in the midst of
+a deep fall of snow, eluded the vigilance of the French patrols,
+and, after surmounting a thousand hardships and dangers, arrived
+at the headquarters of Alvinzi, at Bassano, on January 4, the day
+after the conferences at Vicenza were broken up.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Great destinies awaited this enterprising
+officer.&nbsp; He was Colonel Graham, afterwards victor at
+Barrosa, and the first British general who planted the English
+standard on the soil of France.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>This bare skeleton of the event was endued &lsquo;with sense
+and soul&rsquo; by the narrator.&nbsp; The &lsquo;hardships and
+dangers&rsquo; thrilled one&rsquo;s young nerves.&nbsp; Their two
+salient features were ice perils, and the no less imminent one of
+being captured and shot as a spy.&nbsp; The crossing of the
+rivers stands out prominently in my recollection.&nbsp; All the
+bridges were of course guarded, and he had two at least within
+the enemy&rsquo;s lines to get over&mdash;those of the Mincio and
+of the Adige.&nbsp; Probably the lagunes surrounding the invested
+fortress would be his worst difficulty.&nbsp; The Adige he
+described as beset with a two-fold risk&mdash;the avoidance of
+the bridges, which courted suspicion, and the thin ice and only
+partially frozen river, which had to be traversed in the
+dark.&nbsp; The vigour, the zest with which the wiry veteran
+&lsquo;shoulder&rsquo;d his crutch and show&rsquo;d how fields
+were won&rsquo; was not a thing to be forgotten.</p>
+<p>Lord Lynedoch lived to a great age, and it was from his house
+at Cardington, in Bedfordshire, that my brother Leicester married
+his first wife, Miss Whitbread, in 1843.&nbsp; That was the last
+time I saw him.</p>
+<p>Perhaps the following is not out of place here, although it is
+connected with more serious thoughts:</p>
+<p>Though neither my father nor my mother were more pious than
+their neighbours, we children were brought up religiously.&nbsp;
+From infancy we were taught to repeat night and morning the
+Lord&rsquo;s Prayer, and invoke blessings on our parents.&nbsp;
+It was instilled into us by constant repetition that God did not
+love naughty children&mdash;our naughtiness being for the most
+part the original sin of disobedience, rooted in the love of
+forbidden fruit in all its forms of allurement.&nbsp; Moses
+himself could not have believed more faithfully in the direct and
+immediate intervention of an avenging God.&nbsp; The pain in
+one&rsquo;s stomach incident to unripe gooseberries, no less than
+the consequent black dose, or the personal chastisement of a
+responsible and apprehensive nurse, were but the just visitations
+of an offended Deity.</p>
+<p>Whether my religious proclivities were more pronounced than
+those of other children I cannot say, but certainly, as a child,
+I was in the habit of appealing to Omnipotence to gratify every
+ardent desire.</p>
+<p>There were peacocks in the pleasure grounds at Holkham, and I
+had an &aelig;sthetic love for their gorgeous plumes.&nbsp; As I
+hunted under and amongst the shrubs, I secretly prayed that my
+search might be rewarded.&nbsp; Nor had I a doubt, when
+successful, that my prayer had been granted by a beneficent
+Providence.</p>
+<p>Let no one smile at this infantine credulity, for is it not
+the basis of that religious trust which helps so many of us to
+support the sorrows to which our stoicism is unequal?&nbsp; Who
+that might be tempted thoughtlessly to laugh at the child does
+not sometimes sustain the hope of finding his
+&lsquo;plumes&rsquo; by appeals akin to those of his
+childhood?&nbsp; Which of us could not quote a hundred instances
+of such a soothing delusion&mdash;if delusion it be?&nbsp; I
+speak not of saints, but of sinners: of the countless hosts who
+aspire to this world&rsquo;s happiness; of the dying who would
+live, of the suffering who would die, of the poor who would be
+rich, of the aggrieved who seek vengeance, of the ugly who would
+be beautiful, of the old who would appear young, of the guilty
+who would not be found out, and of the lover who would
+possess.&nbsp; Ah! the lover.&nbsp; Here possibility is a
+negligible element.&nbsp; Consequences are of no
+consequence.&nbsp; Passion must be served.&nbsp; When could a
+miracle be more pertinent?</p>
+<p>It is just fifty years ago now; it was during the Indian
+Mutiny.&nbsp; A lady friend of mine did me the honour to make me
+her confidant.&nbsp; She paid the same compliment to
+many&mdash;most of her friends; and the friends (as is their
+wont) confided in one another.&nbsp; Poor thing! her case was a
+sad one.&nbsp; Whose case is not?&nbsp; She was, by her own
+account, in the forty-second year of her virginity; and it may be
+added, parenthetically, an honest fourteen stone in weight.</p>
+<p>She was in love with a hero of Lucknow.&nbsp; It cannot be
+said that she knew him only by his well-earned fame.&nbsp; She
+had seen him, had even sat by him at dinner.&nbsp; He was young,
+he was handsome.&nbsp; It was love at sight, accentuated by much
+meditation&mdash;&lsquo;obsessions [peradventure] des images
+g&eacute;n&eacute;tiques.&rsquo;&nbsp; She told me (and her other
+confidants, of course) that she prayed day and night that this
+distinguished officer, this handsome officer, might return her
+passion.&nbsp; And her letters to me (and to other confidants)
+invariably ended with the entreaty that I (and her other,
+&amp;c.) would offer up a similar prayer on her behalf.&nbsp;
+Alas! poor soul, poor body!&nbsp; I should say, the distinguished
+officer, together with the invoked Providence, remained equally
+insensible to her supplications.&nbsp; The lady rests in
+peace.&nbsp; The soldier, though a veteran, still exults in
+war.</p>
+<p>But why do I cite this single instance?&nbsp; Are there not
+millions of such entreaties addressed to Heaven on this, and on
+every day?&nbsp; What difference is there, in spirit, between
+them and the child&rsquo;s prayer for his feather?&nbsp; Is there
+anything great or small in the eye of Omniscience?&nbsp; Or is it
+not our thinking only that makes it so?</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Soon</span> after I was seven years old, I
+went to what was then, and is still, one of the most favoured of
+preparatory schools&mdash;Temple Grove&mdash;at East Sheen, then
+kept by Dr. Pinkney.&nbsp; I was taken thither from Holkham by a
+great friend of my father&rsquo;s, General Sir Ronald Ferguson,
+whose statue now adorns one of the niches in the fa&ccedil;ade of
+Wellington College.&nbsp; The school contained about 120 boys;
+but I cannot name any one of the lot who afterwards achieved
+distinction.&nbsp; There were three Macaulays there, nephews of
+the historian&mdash;Aulay, Kenneth, and Hector.&nbsp; But I have
+lost sight of all.</p>
+<p>Temple Grove was a typical private school of that
+period.&nbsp; The type is familiar to everyone in its photograph
+as Dotheboys Hall.&nbsp; The progress of the last century in many
+directions is great indeed; but in few is it greater than in the
+comfort and the cleanliness of our modern schools.&nbsp; The
+luxury enjoyed by the present boy is a constant source of
+astonishment to us grandfathers.&nbsp; We were half starved, we
+were exceedingly dirty, we were systematically bullied, and we
+were flogged and caned as though the master&rsquo;s pleasure was
+in inverse ratio to ours.&nbsp; The inscription on the threshold
+should have been &lsquo;Cave canem.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We began our day as at Dotheboys Hall with two large spoonfuls
+of sulphur and treacle.&nbsp; After an hour&rsquo;s lessons we
+breakfasted on one bowl of milk&mdash;&lsquo;Skyblue&rsquo; we
+called it&mdash;and one hunch of buttered bread, unbuttered at
+discretion.&nbsp; Our dinner began with pudding&mdash;generally
+rice&mdash;to save the butcher&rsquo;s bill.&nbsp; Then
+mutton&mdash;which was quite capable of taking care of
+itself.&nbsp; Our only other meal was a basin of
+&lsquo;Skyblue&rsquo; and bread as before.</p>
+<p>As to cleanliness, I never had a bath, never bathed (at the
+school) during the two years I was there.&nbsp; On Saturday
+nights, before bed, our feet were washed by the housemaids, in
+tubs round which half a dozen of us sat at a time.&nbsp; Woe to
+the last comers! for the water was never changed.&nbsp; How we
+survived the food, or rather the want of it, is a marvel.&nbsp;
+Fortunately for me, I used to discover, when I got into bed, a
+thickly buttered crust under my pillow.&nbsp; I believed, I never
+quite made sure, (for the act was not admissible), that my good
+fairy was a fiery-haired lassie (we called her
+&lsquo;Carrots,&rsquo; though I had my doubts as to this being
+her Christian name) who hailed from Norfolk.&nbsp; I see her now:
+her jolly, round, shining face, her extensive mouth, her ample
+person.&nbsp; I recall, with more pleasure than I then endured,
+the cordial hugs she surreptitiously bestowed upon me when we met
+by accident in the passages.&nbsp; Kind, affectionate
+&lsquo;Carrots&rsquo;!&nbsp; Thy heart was as bounteous as thy
+bosom.&nbsp; May the tenderness of both have met with their
+earthly deserts; and mayest thou have shared to the full the
+pleasures thou wast ever ready to impart!</p>
+<p>There were no railways in those times.&nbsp; It amuses me to
+see people nowadays travelling by coach, for pleasure.&nbsp; How
+many lives must have been shortened by long winter journeys in
+those horrible coaches.&nbsp; The inside passengers were hardly
+better off than the outside.&nbsp; The corpulent and heavy
+occupied the scanty space allotted to the weak and
+small&mdash;crushed them, slept on them, snored over them, and
+monopolised the straw which was supposed to keep their feet
+warm.</p>
+<p>A pachydermatous old lady would insist upon an open
+window.&nbsp; A wheezy consumptive invalid would insist on a
+closed one.&nbsp; Everybody&rsquo;s legs were in their own, and
+in every other body&rsquo;s, way.&nbsp; So that when the distance
+was great and time precious, people avoided coaching, and
+remained where they were.</p>
+<p>For this reason, if a short holiday was given&mdash;less than
+a week say&mdash;Norfolk was too far off; and I was not permitted
+to spend it at Holkham.&nbsp; I generally went to Charles
+Fox&rsquo;s at Addison Road, or to Holland House.&nbsp; Lord
+Holland was a great friend of my father&rsquo;s; but, if Creevey
+is to be trusted&mdash;which, as a rule, my recollection of him
+would permit me to doubt, though perhaps not in this
+instance&mdash;Lord Holland did not go to Holkham because of my
+father&rsquo;s dislike to Lady Holland.</p>
+<p>I speak here of my introduction to Holland House, for although
+Lady Holland was then in the zenith of her ascendency, (it was
+she who was the Cabinet Minister, not her too amiable husband,)
+although Holland House was then the resort of all the potentates
+of Whig statecraft, and Whig literature, and Whig wit, in the
+persons of Lord Grey, Brougham, Jeffrey, Macaulay, Sydney Smith,
+and others, it was not till eight or ten years later that I knew,
+when I met them there, who and what her Ladyship&rsquo;s
+brilliant satellites were.&nbsp; I shall not return to Lady
+Holland, so I will say a parting word of her forthwith.</p>
+<p>The woman who corresponded with Buonaparte, and consoled the
+prisoner of St. Helena with black currant jam, was no ordinary
+personage.&nbsp; Most people, I fancy, were afraid of her.&nbsp;
+Her stature, her voice, her beard, were obtrusive marks of her
+masculine attributes.&nbsp; It is questionable whether her amity
+or her enmity was most to be dreaded.&nbsp; She liked those best
+whom she could most easily tyrannise over.&nbsp; Those in the
+other category might possibly keep aloof.&nbsp; For my part I
+feared her patronage.&nbsp; I remember when I was about
+seventeen&mdash;a self-conscious hobbledehoy&mdash;Mr. Ellice
+took me to one of her large receptions.&nbsp; She received her
+guests from a sort of elevated dais.&nbsp; When I came
+up&mdash;very shy&mdash;to make my salute, she asked me how old I
+was.&nbsp; &lsquo;Seventeen,&rsquo; was the answer.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;That means next birthday,&rsquo; she grunted.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Come and give me a kiss, my dear.&rsquo;&nbsp; I, a
+man!&mdash;a man whose voice was (sometimes) as gruff as
+hers!&mdash;a man who was beginning to shave for a
+moustache!&nbsp; Oh! the indignity of it!</p>
+<p>But it was not Lady Holland, or her court, that concerned me
+in my school days, it was Holland Park, or the extensive grounds
+about Charles Fox&rsquo;s house (there were no other houses at
+Addison Road then), that I loved to roam in.&nbsp; It was the
+birds&rsquo;-nesting; it was the golden carp I used to fish for
+on the sly with a pin; the shying at the swans, the hunt for
+cockchafers, the freedom of mischief generally, and the excellent
+food&mdash;which I was so much in need of&mdash;that made the
+holiday delightful.</p>
+<p>Some years later, when dining at Holland House, I happened to
+sit near the hostess.&nbsp; It was a large dinner party.&nbsp;
+Lord Holland, in his bath-chair (he nearly always had the gout),
+sat at the far end of the table a long way off.&nbsp; But my lady
+kept an eye on him, for she had caught him drinking
+champagne.&nbsp; She beckoned to the groom of the chambers, who
+stood behind her; and in a gruff and angry voice shouted:
+&lsquo;Go to my Lord.&nbsp; Take away his wine, and tell him if
+he drinks any more you have my orders to wheel him into the next
+room.&rsquo;&nbsp; If this was a joke it was certainly a
+practical one.&nbsp; And yet affection was behind it.&nbsp;
+There&rsquo;s a tender place in every heart.</p>
+<p>Like all despots, she was subject to fits of
+cowardice&mdash;especially, it was said, with regard to a future
+state, which she professed to disbelieve in.&nbsp; Mr. Ellice
+told me that once, in some country house, while a fearful storm
+was raging, and the claps of thunder made the windows rattle,
+Lady Holland was so terrified that she changed dresses with her
+maid, and hid herself in the cellar.&nbsp; Whether the story be a
+calumny or not, it is at least characteristic.</p>
+<p>After all, it was mainly due to her that Holland House became
+the focus of all that was brilliant in Europe.&nbsp; In the
+memoirs of her father&mdash;Sydney Smith&mdash;Mrs. Austin
+writes: &lsquo;The world has rarely seen, and will rarely, if
+ever, see again all that was to be found within the walls of
+Holland House.&nbsp; Genius and merit, in whatever rank of life,
+became a passport there; and all that was choicest and rarest in
+Europe seemed attracted to that spot as their natural
+soil.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Did we learn much at Temple Grove?&nbsp; Let others answer for
+themselves.&nbsp; Acquaintance with the classics was the staple
+of a liberal education in those times.&nbsp; Temple Grove was the
+<i>atrium</i> to Eton, and gerund-grinding was its <i>raison
+d&rsquo;&ecirc;tre</i>.&nbsp; Before I was nine years old I
+daresay I could repeat&mdash;parrot, that is&mdash;several
+hundreds of lines of the &AElig;neid.&nbsp; This, and some
+elementary arithmetic, geography, and drawing, which last I took
+to kindly, were dearly paid for by many tears, and by temporarily
+impaired health.&nbsp; It was due to my pallid cheeks that I was
+removed.&nbsp; It was due to the following six
+months&mdash;summer months&mdash;of a happy life that my health
+was completely restored.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Edward Ellice</span>, who constantly
+figures in the memoirs of the last century as &lsquo;Bear
+Ellice&rsquo; (an outrageous misnomer, by the way), and who later
+on married my mother, was the chief controller of my youthful
+destiny.&nbsp; His first wife was a sister of the Lord Grey of
+Reform Bill fame, in whose Government he filled the office of War
+Minister.&nbsp; In many respects Mr. Ellice was a notable
+man.&nbsp; He possessed shrewd intelligence, much force of
+character, and an autocratic spirit&mdash;to which he owed his
+sobriquet.&nbsp; His kindness of heart, his powers of
+conversation, with striking personality and ample wealth,
+combined to make him popular.&nbsp; His house in Arlington
+Street, and his shooting lodge at Glen Quoich, were famous for
+the number of eminent men who were his frequent guests.</p>
+<p>Mr. Ellice&rsquo;s position as a minister, and his habitual
+residence in Paris, had brought him in touch with the leading
+statesmen of France.&nbsp; He was intimately acquainted with
+Louis Philippe, with Talleyrand, with Guizot, with Thiers, and
+most of the French men and French women whose names were bruited
+in the early part of the nineteenth century.</p>
+<p>When I was taken from Temple Grove, I was placed, by the
+advice and arrangement of Mr. Ellice, under the charge of a
+French family, which had fallen into decay&mdash;through the
+change of dynasty.&nbsp; The Marquis de Coubrier had been Master
+of the Horse to Charles X.&nbsp; His widow&mdash;an old lady
+between seventy and eighty&mdash;with three maiden daughters, all
+advanced in years, lived upon the remnant of their estates in a
+small village called Larue, close to Bourg-la-Reine, which, it
+may be remembered, was occupied by the Prussians during the siege
+of Paris.&nbsp; There was a ch&acirc;teau, the former seat of the
+family; and, adjoining it, in the same grounds, a pretty and
+commodious cottage.&nbsp; The first was let as a country house to
+some wealthy Parisians; the cottage was occupied by the Marquise
+and her three daughters.</p>
+<p>The personal appearances of each of these four elderly ladies,
+their distinct idiosyncrasies, and their former high position as
+members of a now moribund nobility, left a lasting impression on
+my memory.&nbsp; One might expect, perhaps, from such a prelude,
+to find in the old Marquise traces of stately demeanour, or a
+regretted superiority.&nbsp; Nothing of the kind.&nbsp; She
+herself was a short, square-built woman, with large head and
+strong features, framed in a mob cap, with a broad frill which
+flopped over her tortoise-shell spectacles.&nbsp; She wore a
+black bombazine gown, and list slippers.&nbsp; When in the
+garden, where she was always busy in the summer-time, she put on
+wooden sabots over her slippers.</p>
+<p>Despite this homely exterior, she herself was a
+&lsquo;lady&rsquo; in every sense of the word.&nbsp; Her manner
+was dignified and courteous to everyone.&nbsp; To her daughters
+and to myself she was gentle and affectionate.&nbsp; Her voice
+was sympathetic, almost musical.&nbsp; I never saw her temper
+ruffled.&nbsp; I never heard her allude to her antecedents.</p>
+<p>The daughters were as unlike their mother as they were to one
+another.&nbsp; Ad&egrave;le, the eldest, was very stout, with a
+profusion of grey ringlets.&nbsp; She spoke English
+fluently.&nbsp; I gathered, from her mysterious nods and tosses
+of the head, (to be sure, her head wagged a little of its own
+accord, the ringlets too, like lambs&rsquo; tails,) that she had
+had an <i>affaire de c&oelig;ur</i> with an Englishman, and that
+the perfidious islander had removed from the Continent with her
+misplaced affections.&nbsp; She was a trifle bitter, I
+thought&mdash;for I applied her insinuations to
+myself&mdash;against Englishmen generally.&nbsp; But, though
+cynical in theory, she was perfectly amiable in practice.&nbsp;
+She superintended the m&eacute;nage and spent the rest of her
+life in making paper flowers.&nbsp; I should hardly have known
+they were flowers, never having seen their prototypes in
+nature.&nbsp; She assured me, however, that they were beautiful
+copies&mdash;undoubtedly she believed them to be so.</p>
+<p>Henriette, the youngest, had been the beauty of the
+family.&nbsp; This I had to take her own word for, since here
+again there was much room for imagination and faith.&nbsp; She
+was a confirmed invalid, and, poor thing! showed every symptom of
+it.&nbsp; She rarely left her room except for meals; and although
+it was summer when I was there, she never moved without her
+chauffrette.&nbsp; She seemed to live for the sake of patent
+medicines and her chauffrette; she was always swallowing the one,
+and feeding the other.</p>
+<p>The middle daughter was Agl&auml;&eacute;.&nbsp; Mademoiselle
+Agl&auml;&eacute; took charge&mdash;I may say,
+possession&mdash;of me.&nbsp; She was tall, gaunt, and bony, with
+a sharp aquiline nose, pomegranate cheek-bones, and large saffron
+teeth ever much in evidence.&nbsp; Her speciality, as I soon
+discovered, was sentiment.&nbsp; Like her sisters, she had had
+her &lsquo;affaires&rsquo; in the plural.&nbsp; A Greek prince,
+so far as I could make out, was the last of her adorers.&nbsp;
+But I sometimes got into scrapes by mixing up the Greek prince
+with a Polish count, and then confounding either one or both with
+a Hungarian pianoforte player.</p>
+<p>Without formulating my deductions, I came instinctively to the
+conclusion that &lsquo;En fait d&rsquo;amour,&rsquo; as Figaro
+puts it, &lsquo;trop n&rsquo;est pas m&ecirc;me
+assez.&rsquo;&nbsp; From Miss Agl&auml;&eacute;&rsquo;s point of
+view a lover was a lover.&nbsp; As to the superiority of one over
+another, this was&mdash;nay, is&mdash;purely subjective.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;We receive but what we give.&rsquo;&nbsp; And, from what
+Mademoiselle then told me, I cannot but infer that she had given
+without stint.</p>
+<p>Be that as it may, nothing could be more kind than her care of
+me.&nbsp; She tucked me up at night, and used to send for me in
+the morning before she rose, to partake of her
+<i>caf&eacute;-au-lait</i>.&nbsp; In return for her indulgences,
+I would &lsquo;make eyes&rsquo; such as I had seen Auguste, the
+young man-servant, cast at Rose the cook.&nbsp; I would present
+her with little scraps which I copied in roundhand from a volume
+of French poems.&nbsp; Once I drew, and coloured with red ink,
+two hearts pierced with an arrow, a copious pool of red ink
+beneath, emblematic of both the quality and quantity of my
+passion.&nbsp; This work of art produced so deep a sigh that I
+abstained thenceforth from repeating such sanguinary
+endearments.</p>
+<p>Not the least interesting part of the family was the
+servants.&nbsp; I say &lsquo;family,&rsquo; for a French family,
+unlike an English one, includes its domestics; wherein our
+neighbours have the advantage over us.&nbsp; In the British
+establishment the household is but too often thought of and
+treated as furniture.&nbsp; I was as fond of Rose the cook and
+maid-of-all-work as I was of anyone in the house.&nbsp; She
+showed me how to peel potatoes, break eggs, and make
+<i>pot-au-feu</i>.&nbsp; She made me little delicacies in
+pastry&mdash;swans with split almonds for wings, comic little
+pigs with cloves in their eyes&mdash;for all of which my
+affection and my liver duly acknowledged receipt in full.&nbsp;
+She taught me more provincial pronunciation and bad grammar than
+ever I could unlearn.&nbsp; She was very intelligent, and radiant
+with good humour.&nbsp; One peculiarity especially took my
+fancy&mdash;the yellow bandana in which she enveloped her
+head.&nbsp; I was always wondering whether she was born without
+hair&mdash;there was none to be seen.&nbsp; This puzzled me so
+that one day I consulted Auguste, who was my chief
+companion.&nbsp; He was quite indignant, and declared with warmth
+that Mam&rsquo;selle Rose had the most beautiful hair he had ever
+beheld.&nbsp; He flushed even with enthusiasm.&nbsp; If it
+hadn&rsquo;t been for his manner, I should have asked him how he
+knew.&nbsp; But somehow I felt the subject was a delicate
+one.</p>
+<p>How incessantly they worked, Auguste and Rose, and how
+cheerfully they worked!&nbsp; One could hear her singing, and him
+whistling, at it all day.&nbsp; Yet they seemed to have abundant
+leisure to exchange a deal of pleasantry and harmless
+banter.&nbsp; Auguste was a Swiss, and a bigoted Protestant, and
+never lost an opportunity of holding forth on the superiority of
+the reformed religion.&nbsp; If he thought the family were out of
+hearing, he would grow very animated and declamatory.&nbsp; But
+Rose, who also had hopes, though perhaps faint, for my salvation,
+would suddenly rush into the room with the carpet broom, and
+drive him out, with threats of Miss Agl&auml;&eacute;, and the
+broomstick.</p>
+<p>The gardener, Monsieur Beno&icirc;t, was also a great
+favourite of mine, and I of his, for I was never tired of
+listening to his wonderful adventures.&nbsp; He had, so he
+informed me, been a soldier in the <i>Grande
+Arm&eacute;e</i>.&nbsp; He enthralled me with hair-raising
+accounts of his exploits: how, when leading a storming
+party&mdash;he was always the leader&mdash;one dark and terrible
+night, the vivid and incessant lightning betrayed them by the
+flashing of their bayonets; and how in a few minutes they were
+mowed down by <i>mitraille</i>.&nbsp; He had led forlorn hopes,
+and performed deeds of astounding prowess.&nbsp; How many
+Life-guardsmen he had annihilated: &lsquo;Ah! ben oui!&rsquo; he
+was afraid to say.&nbsp; He had been personally noticed by
+&lsquo;Le p&rsquo;tit caporal.&rsquo;&nbsp; There were many,
+whose deeds were not to compare with his, who had been made
+princes and mareschals.&nbsp; <i>Parbleu</i>! but his luck was
+bad.&nbsp; &lsquo;Pas d&rsquo;chance! pas d&rsquo;chance!&nbsp;
+Mo&rsquo;sieu Henri.&rsquo;&nbsp; As Monsieur Beno&icirc;t
+recorded his feats, and witnessed my unbounded admiration, his
+voice would grow more and more sepulchral, till it dropped to a
+hoarse and scarcely audible whisper.</p>
+<p>I was a little bewildered one day when, having breathlessly
+repeated some of his heroic deeds to the Marquise, she with a
+quiet smile assured me that &lsquo;ce petit bon-homme,&rsquo; as
+she called him, had for a short time been a drummer in the
+National Guard, but had never been a soldier.&nbsp; This was a
+blow to me; moreover, I was troubled by the composure of the
+Marquise.&nbsp; Monsieur Beno&icirc;t had actually been telling
+me what was not true.&nbsp; Was it, then, possible that grown-up
+people acquired the privilege of fibbing with impunity?&nbsp; I
+wondered whether this right would eventually become mine!</p>
+<p>At Bourg-la-Reine there is, or was, a large school.&nbsp;
+Three days in the week I had to join one of the classes there; on
+the other three one of the ushers came up to Larue for a couple
+of hours of private tuition.&nbsp; At the school itself I did not
+learn very much, except that boys everywhere are pretty similar,
+especially in the badness of their manners.&nbsp; I also learnt
+that shrugging the shoulders while exhibiting the palms of the
+hands, and smiting oneself vehemently on the chest, are
+indispensable elements of the French idiom.&nbsp; The
+indiscriminate use of the word &lsquo;parfaitement&rsquo; I also
+noticed to be essential when at a loss for either language or
+ideas, and have made valuable use of it ever since.</p>
+<p>Monsieur Vincent, my tutor, was a most good-natured and
+patient teacher.&nbsp; I incline, however, to think that I taught
+him more English than he taught me French.&nbsp; He certainly
+worked hard at his lessons.&nbsp; He read English aloud to me,
+and made me correct his pronunciation.&nbsp; The mental agony
+this caused me makes me hot to think of still.&nbsp; I had never
+heard his kind of Franco-English before.&nbsp; To my ignorance it
+was the most comic language in the world.&nbsp; There were some
+words which, in spite of my endeavours, he persisted in
+pronouncing in his own way.&nbsp; I have since got quite used to
+the most of them, and their only effect is to remind me of my own
+rash ventures in a foreign tongue.&nbsp; There are one or two
+words which recall the pain it gave me to control my
+emotions.&nbsp; He would produce his penknife, for instance; and,
+contemplating it with a despondent air, would declare it to be
+the most difficult word in the English language to
+pronounce.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ow you say &rsquo;im?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Penknife,&rsquo; I explained.&nbsp; He would bid me write
+it down; then having spelt it, he would, with much effort, and a
+sound like sneezing&mdash;oh! the pain I endured!&mdash;slowly
+repeat &lsquo;Penkneef.&rsquo;&nbsp; I gave it up at last; and he
+was gratified with his success.&nbsp; As my explosion generally
+occurred about five minutes afterwards, Monsieur Vincent failed
+to connect cause and effect.&nbsp; When we parted he gave me a
+neatly bound copy of La Bruy&egrave;re as a prize&mdash;for his
+own proficiency, I presume.&nbsp; Many a pleasant half-hour have
+I since spent with the witty classic.</p>
+<p>Except the controversial harangues of the zealot Auguste, my
+religious teaching was neglected on week days.&nbsp; On Sundays,
+if fine, I was taken to a Protestant church in Paris; not
+infrequently to the Embassy.&nbsp; I did not enjoy this at
+all.&nbsp; I could have done very well without it.&nbsp; I liked
+the drive, which took about an hour each way.&nbsp; Occasionally
+Agl&auml;&eacute; and I went in the Bourg-la-Reine coucou.&nbsp;
+But Mr. Ellice had arranged that a carriage should be hired for
+me.&nbsp; Probably he was not unmindful of the convenience of the
+old ladies.&nbsp; They were not.&nbsp; The carriage was always
+filled.&nbsp; Even Mademoiselle Henriette managed to go
+sometimes&mdash;aided by a little patent medicine, and when it
+was too hot for the chauffrette.&nbsp; If she was unable, a
+friend in the neighbourhood was offered a seat; and I had to sit
+bodkin, or on Mademoiselle Agl&auml;&eacute;&rsquo;s lap.&nbsp; I
+hated the &lsquo;friend&rsquo;; for, secretly, I felt the
+carriage was mine, though of course I never had the bad taste to
+say so.</p>
+<p>They went to Mass, and I was allowed to go with them, in
+addition to my church, as a special favour.&nbsp; I liked the
+music, the display of candles, the smell of the incense, and the
+dresses of the priests; and wondered whether when
+undressed&mdash;unrobed, that is&mdash;they were funny old
+gentlemen like Monsieur le Cur&eacute; at Larue, and took such a
+prodigious quantity of snuff up their noses and under their
+finger-nails.&nbsp; The ladies did a good deal of shopping, and
+we finished off at the Flower Market by the Madeleine, where I,
+through the agency of Mademoiselle Agl&auml;&eacute;, bought
+plants for &lsquo;Maman.&rsquo;&nbsp; This gave
+&lsquo;Maman&rsquo; <i>un plaisir inou&iuml;</i>, and me too; for
+the dear old lady always presented me with a stick of
+barley-sugar in return.&nbsp; As I never possessed a sou (Miss
+Agl&auml;&eacute; kept account of all my expenses and
+disbursements) I was strongly in favour of buying plants for
+&lsquo;Maman.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I loved the garden.&nbsp; It was such a beautiful garden; so
+beautifully kept by Monsieur Beno&icirc;t, and withered old
+M&egrave;re Mich&egrave;le, who did the weeding and helped Rose
+once a week in the laundry.&nbsp; There were such pretty
+trellises, covered with roses and clematis; such masses of bright
+flowers and sweet mignonette; such tidy gravel walks and clipped
+box edges; such floods of sunshine; so many butterflies and
+lizards basking in it; the birds singing with excess of
+joy.&nbsp; I used to fancy they sang in gratitude to the dear old
+Marquise, who never forgot them in the winter snows.</p>
+<p>What a quaint but charming picture she was amidst this
+quietude,&mdash;she who had lived through the Reign of Terror:
+her mob cap, garden apron, and big gloves; a trowel in one hand,
+a watering-pot in the other; potting and unpotting; so busy,
+seemingly so happy.&nbsp; She loved to have me with her, and let
+me do the watering.&nbsp; What a pleasure that was!&nbsp; The
+scores of little jets from the perforated rose, the gushing
+sound, the freshness and the sparkle, the gratitude of the
+plants, to say nothing of one&rsquo;s own wet legs.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Maman&rsquo; did not approve of my watering my own
+legs.&nbsp; But if the watering-pot was too big for me how could
+I help it?&nbsp; By and by a small one painted red within and
+green outside was discovered in Bourg-la-Reine, and I was happy
+ever afterwards.</p>
+<p>Much of my time was spent with the children and nurses of the
+family which occupied the ch&acirc;teau.&nbsp; The costume of the
+head nurse with her high Normandy cap (would that I had a female
+pen for details) invariably suggested to me that she would make
+any English showman&rsquo;s fortune, if he could only exhibit her
+stuffed.&nbsp; At the cottage they called her &lsquo;La Grosse
+Normande.&rsquo;&nbsp; Not knowing her by any other name, I
+always so addressed her.&nbsp; She was not very quick-witted, but
+I think she a little resented my familiarity, and retaliated by
+comparisons between her compatriots and mine, always in a tone
+derogatory to the latter.&nbsp; She informed me as a matter of
+history, patent to all nurses, that the English race were
+notoriously bow-legged; and that this was due to the vicious
+practice of allowing children to use their legs before the
+gristle had become bone.&nbsp; Being of an inquiring turn of
+mind, I listened with awe to this physiological revelation, and
+with chastened and depressed spirits made a mental note of our
+national calamity.&nbsp; Privately I fancied that the mottled and
+spasmodic legs of Achille&mdash;whom she carried in her
+arms&mdash;or at least so much of the infant Pelides&rsquo; legs
+as were not enveloped in a napkin, gave every promise of refuting
+her generalisation.</p>
+<p>One of my amusements was to set brick traps for small
+birds.&nbsp; At Holkham in the winter time, by baiting with a few
+grains of corn, I and my brothers used, in this way, to capture
+robins, hedge-sparrows, and tits.&nbsp; Not far from the
+ch&acirc;teau was a large osier bed, resorted to by flocks of the
+common sparrow.&nbsp; Here I set my traps.&nbsp; But it being
+summer time, and (as I complained when twitted with want of
+success) French birds being too stupid to know what the traps
+were for, I never caught a feather.&nbsp; Now this osier bed was
+a favourite game covert for the sportsmen of the ch&acirc;teau;
+and what was my delight and astonishment when one morning I found
+a dead hare with its head under the fallen brick of my
+trap.&nbsp; How triumphantly I dragged it home, and showed it to
+Rose and Auguste,&mdash;who more than the rest had &lsquo;mocked
+themselves&rsquo; of my traps, and then carried it in my arms,
+all bloody as it was (I could not make out how both its hind legs
+were broken) into the salon to show it to the old Marquise.&nbsp;
+Mademoiselle Henriette, who was there, gave a little scream (for
+effect) at sight of the blood.&nbsp; Everybody was pleased.&nbsp;
+But when I overheard Rose&rsquo;s <i>sotto voce</i> to the
+Marquise: &lsquo;Comme ils sont gentils!&rsquo; I indignantly
+retorted that &lsquo;it wasn&rsquo;t kind of the hare at all: it
+was entirely due to my skill in setting the traps.&nbsp; They
+would catch anything that put its head into them.&nbsp; Just you
+try.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>How severe are the shocks of early disillusionment!&nbsp; It
+was not until long after the hare was skinned, roasted, served as
+<i>civet</i> and as <i>pur&eacute;e</i> that I discovered the
+truth.&nbsp; I was not at all grateful to the gentlemen of the
+ch&acirc;teau whose dupe I had been; was even wrath with my dear
+old &lsquo;Maman&rsquo; for treating them with extra courtesy for
+their kindness to her <i>petit ch&eacute;ri</i>.</p>
+<p>That was a happy summer.&nbsp; After it was ended, and it was
+time for me to return to England and begin my education for the
+Navy I never again set eyes on Larue, or that charming nest of
+old ladies who had done their utmost to spoil me.&nbsp; Many and
+many a time have I been to Paris, but nothing could tempt me to
+visit Larue.&nbsp; So it is with me.&nbsp; Often have I
+questioned the truth of the <i>nessun maggior dolore</i> than the
+memory of happy times in the midst of sorry ones.&nbsp; The
+thought of happiness, it would seem, should surely make us
+happier, and yet&mdash;not of happiness for ever lost.&nbsp; And
+are not the deepening shades of our declining sun deepened by
+youth&rsquo;s contrast?&nbsp; Whatever our sweetest songs may
+tell us of, we are the sadder for our sweetest memories.&nbsp;
+The grass can never be as green again to eyes grown watery.&nbsp;
+The lambs that skipped when we did were long since served as
+mutton.&nbsp; And if</p>
+<blockquote><p>Die F&uuml;sse tragen mich so muthig nicht
+empor<br />
+Die hohen Stufen die ich kindisch &uuml;bersprang,</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>why, I will take the fact for granted.&nbsp; My youth is fled,
+my friends are dead.&nbsp; The daisies and the snows whiten by
+turns the grave of him or her&mdash;the dearest I have
+loved.&nbsp; Shall I make a pilgrimage to that sepulchre?&nbsp;
+Drop futile tears upon it?&nbsp; Will they warm what is no
+more?&nbsp; I for one have not the heart for that.&nbsp; Happily
+life has something else for us to do.&nbsp; Happily &rsquo;tis
+best to do it.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> passage from the romantic to
+the realistic, from the chimerical to the actual, from the
+child&rsquo;s poetic interpretation of life to life&rsquo;s
+practical version of itself, is too gradual to be noticed while
+the process is going on.&nbsp; It is only in the retrospect we
+see the change.&nbsp; There is still, for yet another stage, the
+same and even greater receptivity,&mdash;delight in new
+experiences, in gratified curiosity, in sensuous enjoyment, in
+the exercise of growing faculties.&nbsp; But the belief in the
+impossible and the bliss of ignorance are seen, when looking
+back, to have assumed almost abruptly a cruder state of maturer
+dulness.&nbsp; Between the public schoolboy and the child there
+is an essential difference; and this in a boy&rsquo;s case is
+largely due, I fancy, to the diminished influence of woman, and
+the increased influence of men.</p>
+<p>With me, certainly, the rough usage I was ere long to undergo
+materially modified my view of things in general.&nbsp; In 1838,
+when I was eleven years old, my uncle, Henry Keppel, the future
+Admiral of the Fleet, but then a dashing young commander, took me
+(as he mentions in his Autobiography) to the Naval Academy at
+Gosport.&nbsp; The very afternoon of my admittance&mdash;as an
+illustration of the above remarks&mdash;I had three fights with
+three different boys.&nbsp; After that the &lsquo;new boy&rsquo;
+was left to his own devices,&mdash;<i>qua</i> &lsquo;new
+boy,&rsquo; that is; as an ordinary small boy, I had my
+share.&nbsp; I have spoken of the starvation at Dr.
+Pinkney&rsquo;s; here it was the terrible bullying that left its
+impress on me&mdash;literally its mark, for I still bear the scar
+upon my hand.</p>
+<p>Most boys, I presume, know the toy called a whirligig, made by
+stringing a button on a loop of thread, the twisting and
+untwisting of which by approaching and separating the hands
+causes the button to revolve.&nbsp; Upon this design, and by
+substituting a jagged disk of slate for the button, the senior
+&lsquo;Bull-dogs&rsquo; (we were all called &lsquo;Burney&rsquo;s
+bull-dogs&rsquo;) constructed a very simple instrument of
+torture.&nbsp; One big boy spun the whirligig, while another held
+the small boy&rsquo;s palm till the sharp slate-edge gashed
+it.&nbsp; The wound was severe.&nbsp; For many years a long white
+cicatrice recorded the fact in my right hand.&nbsp; The ordeal
+was, I fancy, unique&mdash;a prerogative of the naval
+&lsquo;bull-dogs.&rsquo;&nbsp; The other torture was, in those
+days, not unknown to public schools.&nbsp; It was to hold a
+boy&rsquo;s back and breech as near to a hot fire as his clothes
+would bear without burning.&nbsp; I have an indistinct
+recollection of a boy at one of our largest public schools being
+thus exposed, and left tied to chairs while his companions were
+at church.&nbsp; When church was over the boy was
+found&mdash;roasted.</p>
+<p>By the advice of a chum I submitted to the scorching without a
+howl, and thus obtained immunity, and admission to the roasting
+guild for the future.&nbsp; What, however, served me best, in all
+matters of this kind, was that as soon as I was twelve years old
+my name was entered on the books of the &lsquo;Britannia,&rsquo;
+then flag-ship in Portsmouth Harbour, and though I remained at
+the Academy, I always wore the uniform of a volunteer of the
+first class, now called a naval cadet.&nbsp; The uniform was
+respected, and the wearer shared the benefit.</p>
+<p>During the winter of 1839&ndash;40 I joined H.M.S.
+&lsquo;Blonde,&rsquo; a 46-gun frigate commanded by Captain
+Bouchier, afterwards Sir Thomas, whose portrait is now in the
+National Portrait Gallery.&nbsp; He had seen much service, and
+had been flag-captain to Nelson&rsquo;s Hardy.&nbsp; In the
+middle of that winter we sailed for China, where troubles had
+arisen anent the opium trade.</p>
+<p>What would the cadet of the present day think of the treatment
+we small boys had to put up with sixty or seventy years
+ago?&nbsp; Promotion depended almost entirely on interest.&nbsp;
+The service was entered at twelve or thirteen.&nbsp; After two
+years at sea, if the boy passed his examination, he mounted the
+white patch, and became a midshipman.&nbsp; At the end of four
+years more he had to pass a double examination,&mdash;one for
+seamanship before a board of captains, and another for navigation
+at the Naval College.&nbsp; He then became a master&rsquo;s mate,
+and had to serve for three years as such before he was eligible
+for promotion to a lieutenancy.&nbsp; Unless an officer had
+family interest he often stuck there, and as often had to serve
+under one more favoured, who was not born when he himself was
+getting stale.</p>
+<p>Naturally enough these old hands were jealous of the fortunate
+youngsters, and, unless exceptionally amiable, would show them
+little mercy.</p>
+<p>We left Portsmouth in December 1839.&nbsp; It was bitter
+winter.&nbsp; The day we sailed, such was the severity of the
+gale and snowstorm, that we had to put back and anchor at St.
+Helens in the Isle of Wight.&nbsp; The next night we were at
+sea.&nbsp; It happened to be my middle watch.&nbsp; I had to turn
+out of my hammock at twelve to walk the deck till four in the
+morning.&nbsp; Walk! I could not stand.&nbsp; Blinded with snow,
+drenched by the seas, frozen with cold, home sick and sea sick
+beyond description, my opinion of the Royal Navy&mdash;as a
+profession&mdash;was, in the course of these four hours,
+seriously subverted.&nbsp; Long before the watch ended.&nbsp; I
+was reeling about more asleep than awake; every now and then
+brought to my senses by breaking my shins against the carronade
+slides; or, if I sat down upon one of them to rest, by a playful
+whack with a rope&rsquo;s end from one of the crusty old mates
+aforesaid, who perhaps anticipated in my poor little personality
+the arrogance of a possible commanding officer.&nbsp; Oh! those
+cruel night watches!&nbsp; But the hard training must have been a
+useful tonic too.&nbsp; One got accustomed to it by degrees; and
+hence, indifferent to exposure, to bad food, to kicks and cuffs,
+to calls of duty, to subordination, and to all that constitutes
+discipline.</p>
+<p>Luckily for me, the midshipman of my watch, Jack Johnson, was
+a trump, and a smart officer to boot.&nbsp; He was six years
+older than I, and, though thoroughly good-natured, was formidable
+enough from his strength and determination to have his will
+respected.&nbsp; He became my patron and protector.&nbsp;
+Rightly, or wrongly I am afraid, he always took my part, made
+excuses for me to the officer of our watch if I were caught
+napping under the half-deck, or otherwise neglecting my
+duty.&nbsp; Sometimes he would even take the blame for this upon
+himself, and give me a &lsquo;wigging&rsquo; in private, which
+was my severest punishment.&nbsp; He taught me the ropes, and
+explained the elements of seamanship.&nbsp; If it was very cold
+at night he would make me wear his own comforter, and, in short,
+took care of me in every possible way.&nbsp; Poor Jack! I never
+had a better friend; and I loved him then, God knows.&nbsp; He
+was one of those whose advancement depended on himself.&nbsp; I
+doubt whether he would ever have been promoted but for an
+accident which I shall speak of presently.</p>
+<p>When we got into warm latitudes we were taught not only to
+knot and splice, but to take in and set the mizzen royal.&nbsp;
+There were four of us boys, and in all weathers at last we were
+practised aloft until we were as active and as smart as any of
+the ship&rsquo;s lads, even in dirty weather or in sudden
+squalls.</p>
+<p>We had a capital naval instructor for lessons in navigation,
+and the quartermaster of the watch taught us how to handle the
+wheel and con.</p>
+<p>These quartermasters&mdash;there was one to each of the three
+watches&mdash;were picked men who had been captains of tops or
+boatswains&rsquo; mates.&nbsp; They were much older than any of
+the crew.&nbsp; Our three in the &lsquo;Blonde&rsquo; had all
+seen service in the French and Spanish wars.&nbsp; One, a tall,
+handsome old fellow, had been a smuggler; and many a fight with,
+or narrow escape from, the coast-guard he had to tell of.&nbsp;
+The other two had been badly wounded.&nbsp; Old Jimmy Bartlett of
+my watch had a hole in his chest half an inch deep from a
+boarding pike.&nbsp; He had also lost a finger, and a bullet had
+passed through his cheek.&nbsp; One of his fights was in the
+&lsquo;Amethyst&rsquo; frigate when, under Sir Michael Seymour,
+she captured the &lsquo;Niemen&rsquo; in 1809.&nbsp; Often in the
+calm tropical nights, when the helm could take care of itself
+almost, he would spin me a yarn about hot actions, cutting-outs,
+press-gangings, and perils which he had gone through,
+or&mdash;what was all one to me&mdash;had invented.</p>
+<p>From England to China round the Cape was a long voyage before
+there was a steamer in the Navy.&nbsp; It is impossible to
+describe the charm of one&rsquo;s first acquaintance with
+tropical vegetation after the tedious monotony unbroken by any
+event but an occasional flogging or a man overboard.&nbsp; The
+islands seemed afloat in an atmosphere of blue; their jungles
+rooting in the water&rsquo;s edge.&nbsp; The strange birds in the
+daytime, the flocks of parrots, the din of every kind of life,
+the flying foxes at night, the fragrant and spicy odours,
+captivate the senses.&nbsp; How delicious, too, the fresh fruits
+brought off by the Malays in their scooped-out logs, one&rsquo;s
+first taste of bananas, juicy shaddocks, mangoes, and custard
+apples&mdash;after months of salt junk, disgusting salt pork, and
+biscuit all dust and weevils.&nbsp; The water is so crystal-clear
+it seems as though one could lay one&rsquo;s hands on strange
+coloured fish and coral beds at any depth.&nbsp; This, indeed,
+was &lsquo;kissing the lips of unexpected change.&rsquo;&nbsp; It
+was a first kiss moreover.&nbsp; The tropics now have ceased to
+remind me even of this spell of novelty and wonder.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> first time I &lsquo;smelt
+powder&rsquo; was at Amoy.&nbsp; The &lsquo;Blonde&rsquo; carried
+out Lord Palmerston&rsquo;s letter to the Chinese
+Government.&nbsp; Never was there a more iniquitous war than
+England then provoked with China to force upon her the opium
+trade with India in spite of the harm which the Chinese
+authorities believed that opium did to their people.</p>
+<p>Even Macaulay advocated this shameful imposition.&nbsp; China
+had to submit, and pay into the bargain four and a half millions
+sterling to prove themselves in the wrong.&nbsp; Part of this
+went as prize money.&nbsp; My share of it&mdash;the
+<i>douceur</i> for a middy&rsquo;s participation in the
+crime&mdash;was exactly 100<i>l.</i></p>
+<p>To return to Amoy.&nbsp; When off the mouth of the Canton
+river we had taken on board an interpreter named Thom.&nbsp; What
+our instructions were I know not; I can only tell what
+happened.&nbsp; Our entry into Amoy harbour caused an immediate
+commotion on land.&nbsp; As soon as we dropped anchor, about half
+a mile from the shore, a number of troops, with eight or ten
+field-pieces, took up their position on the beach, evidently
+resolved to prevent our landing.&nbsp; We hoisted a flag of
+truce, at the same time cleared the decks for action, and dropped
+a kedge astern so as to moor the ship broadside to the forts and
+invested shore.&nbsp; The officer of my watch, the late Sir
+Frederick Nicholson, together with the interpreter, were ordered
+to land and communicate with the chief mandarin.&nbsp; To carry
+out this as inoffensively as possible, Nicholson took the
+jolly-boat, manned by four lads only.&nbsp; As it was my watch, I
+had charge of the boat.&nbsp; A napkin or towel served for a flag
+of truce.&nbsp; But long before we reached the shore, several
+mandarins came down to the water&rsquo;s edge waving their swords
+and shouting angrily to warn us off.&nbsp; Mr. Thom, who
+understood what they said, was frightened out of his wits,
+assuring us we should all be sawed in half if we attempted to
+land.&nbsp; Sir Frederick was not the man to disobey orders even
+on such a penalty; he, however, took the precaution&mdash;a very
+wise one as it happened&mdash;to reverse the boat, and back her
+in stern foremost.</p>
+<p>No sooner did the keel grate on the shingle than a score of
+soldiers rushed down to seize us.&nbsp; Before they could do so
+we had shoved off.&nbsp; The shore was very steep.&nbsp; In a
+moment we were in deep water, and our lads pulling for dear
+life.&nbsp; Then came a storm of bullets from matchlocks and
+jingals and the bigger guns, fortunately just too high to hit
+us.&nbsp; One bullet only struck the back-board, but did no
+harm.&nbsp; What, however, seemed a greater danger was the fire
+from the ship.&nbsp; Ere we were halfway back broadside after
+broadside was fired over our heads into the poor devils massed
+along the beach.&nbsp; This was kept up until not a living
+Chinaman was to be seen.</p>
+<p>I may mention here a curious instance of cowardice.&nbsp; One
+of our men, a ship&rsquo;s painter, soon after the firing began
+and was returned by the fort&rsquo;s guns, which in truth were
+quite harmless, jumped overboard and drowned himself.&nbsp; I
+have seen men&rsquo;s courage tried under fire, and in many other
+ways since; yet I have never known but one case similar to this,
+when a friend of my own, a rich and prosperous man, shot himself
+to avoid death!&nbsp; So that there are men like &lsquo;Monsieur
+Grenouille, qui se cachait dans l&rsquo;eau pour &eacute;viter la
+pluie.&rsquo;&nbsp; Often have I seen timid and nervous men, who
+were thought to be cowards, get so excited in action that their
+timidity has turned to rashness.&nbsp; In truth &lsquo;on est
+souvent ferme par faiblesse, et audacieux par
+timidit&eacute;.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Partly for this reason, and partly because I look upon it as a
+remnant of our predatory antecedents and of animal pugnacity, I
+have no extravagant admiration for mere combativeness or physical
+courage.&nbsp; Honoured and rewarded as one of the noblest of
+manly attributes, it is one of the commonest of
+qualities,&mdash;one which there is not a mammal, a bird, a fish,
+or an insect even, that does not share with us.&nbsp; Such is the
+esteem in which it is held, such the ignominy which punishes the
+want of it, that the most cautious and the most timid by nature
+will rather face the uncertain risks of a fight than the certain
+infamy of imputed cowardice.</p>
+<p>Is it likely that courage should be rare under such
+circumstances, especially amongst professional fighters, who in
+England at least have chosen their trade?&nbsp; That there are
+poltroons, and plenty of them, amongst our soldiers and sailors,
+I do not dispute.&nbsp; But with the fear of shame on one hand,
+the hope of reward on the other, the merest dastard will fight
+like a wild beast, when his blood is up.&nbsp; The extraordinary
+merit of his conduct is not so obvious to the peaceful
+thinker.&nbsp; I speak not of such heroism as that of the
+Japanese,&mdash;their deeds will henceforth be bracketed with
+those of Leonidas and his three hundred, who died for a like
+cause.&nbsp; With the Japanese, as it was with the Spartans,
+every man is a patriot; nor is the proportionate force of their
+barbaric invaders altogether dissimilar.</p>
+<p>Is then the Victoria Cross an error?&nbsp; To say so would be
+an outrage in this age of militarism.&nbsp; And what would all
+the Queens of Beauty think, from Sir Wilfred Ivanhoe&rsquo;s days
+to ours, if mighty warriors ceased to poke each other in the
+ribs, and send one another&rsquo;s souls untimely to the
+&lsquo;viewless shades,&rsquo; for the sake of their &lsquo;doux
+yeux?&rsquo;&nbsp; Ah! who knows how many a mutilation, how many
+a life, has been the price of that requital?&nbsp; Ye gentle
+creatures who swoon at the sight of blood, is it not the hero who
+lets most of it that finds most favour in your eyes?&nbsp;
+Possibly it may be to the heroes of moral courage that some
+distant age will award its choicest decorations.&nbsp; As it is,
+the courage that seeks the rewards of Fame seems to me about on a
+par with the virtue that invests in Heaven.</p>
+<p>Though an anachronism as regards this stage of my career, I
+cannot resist a little episode which pleasantly illustrates moral
+courage, or chivalry at least, combined with physical
+bravery.</p>
+<p>In December, 1899, I was a passenger on board a Norddeutscher
+Lloyd on my way to Ceylon.&nbsp; The steamer was crowded with
+Germans; there were comparatively few English.&nbsp; Things had
+been going very badly with us in the Transvaal, and the telegrams
+both at Port Said and at Suez supplemented the previous
+ill-news.&nbsp; At the latter place we heard of the catastrophe
+at Magersfontein, of poor Wauchope&rsquo;s death, and of the
+disaster to the Highland Light Infantry.&nbsp; The moment it
+became known the Germans threw their caps into the air, and
+yelled as if it were they who had defeated us.</p>
+<p>Amongst the steerage passengers was a Major&mdash;in the
+English army&mdash;returning from leave to rejoin his regiment at
+Colombo.&nbsp; If one might judge by his choice of a second-class
+fare, and by his much worn apparel, he was what one would call a
+professional soldier.&nbsp; He was a tall, powerfully-built,
+handsome man, with a weather-beaten determined face, and keen
+eye.&nbsp; I was so taken with his looks that I often went to the
+fore part of the ship on the chance of getting a word with
+him.&nbsp; But he was either shy or proud, certainly reserved;
+and always addressed me as &lsquo;Sir,&rsquo; which was not
+encouraging.</p>
+<p>That same evening, after dinner in the steerage cabin, a
+German got up and, beginning with some offensive allusions to the
+British army, proposed the health of General Cronje and the
+heroic Boers.&nbsp; This was received with deafening
+&lsquo;Hochs.&rsquo;&nbsp; To cap the enthusiasm up jumped
+another German, and proposed &lsquo;ungl&uuml;ck&mdash;bad luck
+to all Englanders and to their Queen.&rsquo;&nbsp; This also was
+cordially toasted.&nbsp; When the ceremony was ended and silence
+restored, my reserved friend calmly rose, tapped the table with
+the handle of his knife (another steerage passenger&mdash;an
+Australian&mdash;told me what happened), took his watch from his
+pocket, and slowly said: &lsquo;It is just six minutes to
+eight.&nbsp; If the person who proposed the last toast has not
+made a satisfactory apology to me before the hand of my watch
+points to the hour, I will thrash him till he does.&nbsp; I am an
+officer in the English army, and always keep my
+word.&rsquo;&nbsp; A small band of Australians was in the
+cabin.&nbsp; One and all of them applauded this laconic
+speech.&nbsp; It was probably due in part to these that the
+offender did not wait till the six minutes had expired.</p>
+<p>Next day I congratulated my reserved friend.&nbsp; He was
+reticent as usual.&nbsp; All I could get out of him was, &lsquo;I
+never allow a lady to be insulted in my presence,
+sir.&rsquo;&nbsp; It was his Queen, not his cloth, that had
+roused the virility in this quiet man.</p>
+<p>Let us turn to another aspect of the deeds of war.&nbsp; About
+daylight on the morning following our bombardment, it being my
+morning watch, I was ordered to take the surgeon and assistant
+surgeon ashore.&nbsp; There were many corpses, but no living or
+wounded to be seen.&nbsp; One object only dwells visually in my
+memory.</p>
+<p>At least a quarter of a mile from the dead soldiers, a stray
+shell had killed a grey-bearded old man and a young woman.&nbsp;
+They were side by side.&nbsp; The woman was still in her teens
+and pretty.&nbsp; She lay upon her back.&nbsp; Blood was oozing
+from her side.&nbsp; A swarm of flies were buzzing in and out of
+her open mouth.&nbsp; Her little deformed feet, cased in the
+high-heeled and embroidered tiny shoes, extended far beyond her
+petticoats.&nbsp; It was these feet that interested the men of
+science.&nbsp; They are now, I believe, in a jar of spirits at
+Haslar hospital.&nbsp; At least, my friend the assistant surgeon
+told me, as we returned to the ship, that that was their ultimate
+destination.&nbsp; The mutilated body, as I turned from it with
+sickening horror, left a picture on my youthful mind not easily
+to be effaced.</p>
+<p>After this we joined the rest of the squadron: the
+&lsquo;Melville&rsquo; (a three-decker, Sir W. Parker&rsquo;s
+flagship), the &lsquo;Blenheim,&rsquo; the &lsquo;Druid,&rsquo;
+the &lsquo;Calliope,&rsquo; and several 18-gun brigs.&nbsp; We
+took Hong Kong, Chusan, Ningpo, Canton, and returned to take
+Amoy.&nbsp; One or two incidents only in the several engagements
+seem worth recording.</p>
+<p>We have all of us supped full with horrors this last year or
+so, and I have no thought of adding to the surfeit.&nbsp; But
+sometimes common accidents appear exceptional, if they befall
+ourselves, or those with whom we are intimate.&nbsp; If the
+sufferer has any special identity, we speculate on his peculiar
+way of bearing his misfortune; and are thus led on to place
+ourselves in his position, and imagine ourselves the
+sufferers.</p>
+<p>Major Daniel, the senior marine officer of the
+&lsquo;Blonde,&rsquo; was a reserved and taciturn man.&nbsp; He
+was quiet and gentlemanlike, always very neat in his dress;
+rather severe, still kind to his men.&nbsp; His aloofness was in
+no wise due to lack of ideas, nor, I should say, to
+pride&mdash;unless, perhaps, it were the pride which some men
+feel in suppressing all emotion by habitual restraint of
+manner.&nbsp; Whether his <i>sangfroid</i> was constitutional, or
+that nobler kind of courage which feels and masters timidity and
+the sense of danger, none could tell.&nbsp; Certain it is he was
+as calm and self-possessed in action as in repose.&nbsp; He was
+so courteous one fancied he would almost have apologised to his
+foe before he remorselessly ran him through.</p>
+<p>On our second visit to Amoy, a year or more after the first,
+we met with a warmer reception.&nbsp; The place was much more
+strongly fortified, and the ship was several-times hulled.&nbsp;
+We were at very close quarters, as it is necessary to pass under
+high ground as the harbour is entered.&nbsp; Those who had the
+option, excepting our gallant old captain, naturally kept under
+shelter of the bulwarks and hammock nettings.&nbsp; Not so Major
+Daniel.&nbsp; He stood in the open gangway watching the effect of
+the shells, as though he were looking at a game of
+billiards.&nbsp; While thus occupied a round shot struck him full
+in the face, and simply left him headless.</p>
+<p>Another accident, partly due to an ignorance of dynamics,
+happened at the taking of Canton.&nbsp; The whole of the naval
+brigade was commanded by Sir Thomas Bouchier.&nbsp; Our men were
+lying under the ridge of a hill protected from the guns on the
+city walls.&nbsp; Fully exposed to the fire, which was pretty
+hot, &lsquo;old Tommy&rsquo; as we called him, paced to and fro
+with contemptuous indifference, stopping occasionally to spy the
+enemy with his long ship&rsquo;s telescope.&nbsp; A number of
+bluejackets, in reserve, were stationed about half a mile further
+off at the bottom of the protecting hill.&nbsp; They were
+completely screened from the fire by some buildings of the
+suburbs abutting upon the slope.&nbsp; Those in front were
+watching the cannon-balls which had struck the crest and were
+rolling as it were by mere force of gravitation down the
+hillside.&nbsp; Some jokes were made about football, when
+suddenly a smart and popular young officer&mdash;Fox, first
+lieutenant of one of the brigs&mdash;jumped out at one of these
+spent balls, which looked as though it might have been picked up
+by the hands, and gave it a kick.&nbsp; It took his foot off just
+above the ankle.&nbsp; There was no surgeon at hand, and he was
+bleeding to death before one could be found.&nbsp; Sir Thomas had
+come down the hill, and seeing the wounded officer on the ground
+with a group around him, said in passing, &lsquo;Well, Fox, this
+is a bad job, but it will make up the pair of epaulets, which is
+something.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes sir,&rsquo; said the dying man feebly, &lsquo;but
+without a pair of legs.&rsquo;&nbsp; Half an hour later he was
+dead.</p>
+<p>I have spoken lightly of courage, as if, by implication, I
+myself possessed it.&nbsp; Let me make a confession.&nbsp; From
+my soul I pity the man who is or has been such a miserable coward
+as I was in my infancy, and up to this youthful period of my
+life.&nbsp; No fear of bullets or bayonets could ever equal
+mine.&nbsp; It was the fear of ghosts.&nbsp; As a child, I think
+that at times when shut up for punishment, in a dark cellar for
+instance, I must have nearly gone out of my mind with this
+appalling terror.</p>
+<p>Once when we were lying just below Whampo, the captain took
+nearly every officer and nearly the whole ship&rsquo;s crew on a
+punitive expedition up the Canton river.&nbsp; They were away
+about a week.&nbsp; I was left behind, dangerously ill with fever
+and ague.&nbsp; In his absence, Sir Thomas had had me put into
+his cabin, where I lay quite alone day and night, seeing hardly
+anyone save the surgeon and the captain&rsquo;s steward, who was
+himself a shadow, pretty nigh.&nbsp; Never shall I forget my
+mental sufferings at night.&nbsp; In vain may one attempt to
+describe what one then goes through; only the victims know what
+that is.&nbsp; My ghost&mdash;the ghost of the Whampo
+Reach&mdash;the ghost of those sultry and miasmal nights, had no
+shape, no vaporous form; it was nothing but a presence, a vague
+amorphous dread.&nbsp; It may have floated with the swollen and
+putrid corpses which hourly came bobbing down the stream, but it
+never appeared; for there was nothing to appear.&nbsp; Still it
+might appear.&nbsp; I expected every instant through the night to
+see it in some inconceivable form.&nbsp; I expected it to touch
+me.&nbsp; It neither stalked upon the deck, nor hovered in the
+dark, nor moved, nor rested anywhere.&nbsp; And yet it was there
+about me,&mdash;where, I knew not.&nbsp; On every side I was
+threatened.&nbsp; I feared it most behind the head of my cot,
+because I could not see it if it were so.</p>
+<p>This, it will be said, is the description of a
+nightmare.&nbsp; Exactly so.&nbsp; My agony of fright was a
+nightmare; but a nightmare when every sense was strained with
+wakefulness, when all the powers of imagination were concentrated
+to paralyse my shattered reason.</p>
+<p>The experience here spoken of is so common in some form or
+other that we may well pause to consider it.&nbsp; What is the
+meaning of this fear of ghosts?&mdash;how do we come by it?&nbsp;
+It may be thought that its cradle is our own, that we are
+purposely frightened in early childhood to keep us calm and
+quiet.&nbsp; But I do not believe that nurses&rsquo; stories
+would excite dread of the unknown if the unknown were not already
+known.&nbsp; The susceptibility to this particular terror is
+there before the terror is created.&nbsp; A little reflection
+will convince us that we must look far deeper for the solution of
+a mystery inseparable from another, which is of the last
+importance to all of us.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> belief in phantoms, ghosts, or
+spirits, has frequently been discussed in connection with
+speculations on the origin of religion.&nbsp; According to Mr.
+Spencer (&lsquo;Principles of Sociology&rsquo;) &lsquo;the first
+traceable conception of a supernatural being is the conception of
+a ghost.&rsquo;&nbsp; Even Fetichism is &lsquo;an extension of
+the ghost theory.&rsquo;&nbsp; The soul of the Fetich &lsquo;in
+common with supernatural agents at large, is originally the
+double of a dead man.&rsquo;&nbsp; How do we get this
+notion&mdash;&lsquo;the double of a dead man?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Through dreams.&nbsp; In the Old Testament we are told:
+&lsquo;God came to&rsquo; Abimelech, Laban, Solomon, and others
+&lsquo;in a dream&rsquo;; also that &lsquo;the angel of the
+Lord&rsquo; appeared to Joseph &lsquo;in a dream.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+That is to say, these men dreamed that God came to them.&nbsp; So
+the savage, who dreams of his dead acquaintance, believes he has
+been visited by the dead man&rsquo;s spirit.&nbsp; This belief in
+ghosts is confirmed, Mr. Spencer argues, by other
+phenomena.&nbsp; The savage who faints from the effect of a wound
+sustained in fight looks just like the dead man beside him.&nbsp;
+The spirit of the wounded man returns after a long or short
+period of absence: why should the spirit of the other not do
+likewise?&nbsp; If reanimation follows comatose states, why
+should it not follow death?&nbsp; Insensibility is but an affair
+of time.&nbsp; All the modes of preserving the dead, in the
+remotest ages, evince the belief in casual separation of body and
+soul, and of their possible reunion.</p>
+<p>Take another theory.&nbsp; Comte tells us there is a primary
+tendency in man &lsquo;to transfer the sense of his own nature,
+in the radical explanation of all phenomena
+whatever.&rsquo;&nbsp; Writing in the same key, Schopenhauer
+calls man &lsquo;a metaphysical animal.&rsquo;&nbsp; He is
+speaking of the need man feels of a theory, in regard to the
+riddle of existence, which forces itself upon his notice;
+&lsquo;a need arising from the consciousness that behind the
+physical in the world, there is a metaphysical something
+permanent as the foundation of constant change.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Though not here alluding to the ghost theory, this bears
+indirectly on the conception, as I shall proceed to show.</p>
+<p>We need not entangle ourselves in the vexed question of innate
+ideas, nor inquire whether the principle of casuality is, as Kant
+supposed, like space and time, a form of intuition given <i>a
+priori</i>.&nbsp; That every change has a cause must necessarily
+(without being thus formulated) be one of the initial beliefs of
+conscious beings far lower in the scale than man, whether derived
+solely from experience or otherwise.&nbsp; The reed that shakes
+is obviously shaken by the wind.&nbsp; But the riddle of the wind
+also forces itself into notice; and man explains this by
+transferring to the wind &lsquo;the sense of his own
+nature.&rsquo;&nbsp; Thunderstorms, volcanic disturbances, ocean
+waves, running streams, the motions of the heavenly bodies, had
+to be accounted for as involving change.&nbsp; And the
+natural&mdash;the primitive&mdash;explanation was by reference to
+life, analogous, if not similar, to our own.&nbsp; Here then, it
+seems to me, we have the true origin of the belief in ghosts.</p>
+<p>Take an illustration which supports this view.&nbsp; While
+sitting in my garden the other day a puff of wind blew a
+lady&rsquo;s parasol across the lawn.&nbsp; It rolled away close
+to a dog lying quietly in the sun.&nbsp; The dog looked at it for
+a moment, but seeing nothing to account for its movements, barked
+nervously, put its tail between its legs, and ran away, turning
+occasionally to watch and again bark, with every sign of
+fear.</p>
+<p>This was animism.&nbsp; The dog must have accounted for the
+eccentric behaviour of the parasol by endowing it with an uncanny
+spirit.&nbsp; The horse that shies at inanimate objects by the
+roadside, and will sometimes dash itself against a tree or a
+wall, is actuated by a similar superstition.&nbsp; Is there any
+essential difference between this belief of the dog or horse and
+the belief of primitive man?&nbsp; I maintain that an intuitive
+animistic tendency (which Mr. Spencer repudiates), and not
+dreams, lies at the root of all spiritualism.&nbsp; Would Mr.
+Spencer have had us believe that the dog&rsquo;s fear of the
+rolling parasol was a logical deduction from its canine
+dreams?&nbsp; This would scarcely elucidate the problem.&nbsp;
+The dog and the horse share apparently Schopenhauer&rsquo;s
+metaphysical propensity with man.</p>
+<p>The familiar aphorism of Statius: <i>Primus in orbe Deos fecit
+timor</i>, points to the relation of animism first to the belief
+in ghosts, thence to Polytheism, and ultimately to
+Monotheism.&nbsp; I must apologise to those of the transcendental
+school who, like Max M&uuml;ller for instance (Introduction to
+the &lsquo;Science of Religion&rsquo;), hold that we have
+&lsquo;a primitive intuition of God&rsquo;; which, after all, the
+professor derives, like many others, from the &lsquo;yearning for
+something that neither sense nor reason can supply&rsquo;; and
+from the assumption that &lsquo;there was in the heart of man
+from the very first a feeling of incompleteness, of weakness, of
+dependency, &amp;c.&rsquo;&nbsp; All this, I take it, is due to
+the aspirations of a much later creature than the
+&lsquo;Pithecanthropus erectus,&rsquo; to whom we here refer.</p>
+<p>Probably spirits and ghosts were originally of an evil
+kind.&nbsp; Sir John Lubbock (&lsquo;The Origin of
+Civilisation&rsquo;) says: &lsquo;The baying of the dog to the
+moon is as much an act of worship as some ceremonies which have
+been so described by travellers.&rsquo;&nbsp; I think he would
+admit that fear is the origin of the worship.&nbsp; In his essay
+on &lsquo;Superstition,&rsquo; Hume writes: &lsquo;Weakness,
+fear, melancholy, together with ignorance, are the true sources
+of superstition.&rsquo;&nbsp; Also &lsquo;in such a state of
+mind, infinite unknown evils are dreaded from unknown
+agents.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Man&rsquo;s impotence to resist the forces of nature, and
+their terrible ability to injure him, would inspire a sense of
+terror; which in turn would give rise to the twofold notion of
+omnipotence and malignity.&nbsp; The savage of the present day
+lives in perpetual fear of evil spirits; and the superstitious
+dread, which I and most others have suffered, is inherited from
+our savage ancestry.&nbsp; How much further back we must seek it
+may be left to the sage philosophers of the future.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next winter we lay for a couple
+of months off Chinhai, which we had stormed, blockading the mouth
+of the Ningpo river.&nbsp; Here, I regret to think, I committed
+an act which has often haunted my conscience as a crime; although
+I had frequently promised the captain of a gun a glass of grog to
+let me have a shot, and was mightily pleased if death and
+destruction rewarded my aim.</p>
+<p>Off Chinhai, lorchers and fast sailing junks laden with
+merchandise would try to run the blockade before daylight.&nbsp;
+And it sometimes happened that we youngsters had a long chase in
+a cutter to overhaul them.&nbsp; This meant getting back to a
+nine or ten o&rsquo;clock breakfast at the end of the
+morning&rsquo;s watch; equivalent to five or six hours&rsquo;
+duty on an empty stomach.</p>
+<p>One cold morning I had a hard job to stop a small junk.&nbsp;
+The men were sweating at their oars like galley slaves, and
+muttering curses at the apparent futility of their labour.&nbsp;
+I had fired a couple of shots from a &lsquo;brown
+Bess&rsquo;&mdash;the musket of the day&mdash;through the
+fugitive&rsquo;s sails; and fearing punishment if I let her
+escape, I next aimed at the boat herself.&nbsp; Down came the
+mainsail in a crack.&nbsp; When I boarded our capture, I found I
+had put a bullet through the thigh of the man at the
+tiller.&nbsp; Boys are not much troubled with scruples about
+bloodguiltiness, and not unfrequently are very cruel, for cruelty
+as a rule (with exceptions) mostly proceeds from
+thoughtlessness.&nbsp; But when I realised what I had done, and
+heard the wretched man groan, I was seized with remorse for what,
+at a more hardened stage, I should have excused on the score of
+duty.</p>
+<p>It was during this blockade that the accident, which I have
+already alluded to, befell my dear protector, Jack Johnson.</p>
+<p>One night, during his and my middle watch, the forecastle
+sentries hailed a large sampan, like a Thames barge, drifting
+down stream and threatening to foul us.&nbsp; Sir Frederick
+Nicholson, the officer of the watch, ordered Johnson to take the
+cutter and tow her clear.</p>
+<p>I begged leave to go with him.&nbsp; Sir Frederick refused,
+for he at once suspected mischief.&nbsp; The sampan was reached
+and diverted just before she swung athwart our bows.&nbsp; But
+scarcely was this achieved, when an explosion took place.&nbsp;
+My friend was knocked over, and one or two of the men fell back
+into the cutter.&nbsp; This is what had happened: Johnson finding
+no one in the sampan, cautiously raised one of the deck hatches
+with a boat-hook before he left the cutter.&nbsp; The mine (for
+such it proved) was so arranged that examination of this kind
+drew a lighted match on to the magazine, which instantly
+exploded.</p>
+<p>Poor Jack! what was my horror when we got him on board!&nbsp;
+Every trace of his handsome features was gone.&nbsp; He was
+alive, and that seemed to be all.&nbsp; In a few minutes his head
+and face swelled so that all was a round black charred
+ball.&nbsp; One could hardly see where the eyes were, buried
+beneath the powder-ingrained and incrusted flesh.</p>
+<p>For weeks, at night, I used to sit on a chest near his
+hammock, listening for his slightest movement, too happy if he
+called me for something I could get him.&nbsp; In time he
+recovered, and was invalided home, and I lost my dear companion
+and protector.&nbsp; A couple of years afterwards I had the
+happiness to dine with him on board another ship in Portsmouth,
+no longer in the midshipman&rsquo;s berth, but in the
+wardroom.</p>
+<p>Twice during this war, the &lsquo;Blonde&rsquo; was caught in
+a typhoon.&nbsp; The first time was in waters now famous, but
+then unknown, the Gulf of Liau-tung, in full sight of
+China&rsquo;s great wall.&nbsp; We were twenty-four hours
+battened down, and under storm staysails.&nbsp; The
+&lsquo;Blenheim,&rsquo; with Captain Elliott our plenipotentiary
+on board, was with us, and the one circumstance left in my memory
+is the sight of a line-of-battle ship rolling and pitching so
+that one caught sight of the whole of her keel from stem to stern
+as if she had been a fishing smack.&nbsp; We had been wintering
+in the Yellow Sea, and at the time I speak of were on a foraging
+expedition round the Liau-tung peninsula.&nbsp; Those who have
+followed the events of the Japanese war will have noticed on the
+map, not far north of Ta-lien-wan in the Korean Bay, three groups
+of islands.&nbsp; So little was the geography of these parts then
+known, that they had no place on our charts.&nbsp; On this very
+occasion, one group was named after Captain Elliott, one was
+called the Bouchier Islands, and the other the Blonde
+Islands.&nbsp; The first surveying of the two latter groups, and
+the placing of them upon the map, was done by our naval
+instructor, and he always took me with him as his assistant.</p>
+<p>Our second typhoon was while we were at anchor in Hong Kong
+harbour.&nbsp; Those who have knowledge only of the gales,
+however violent, of our latitudes, have no conception of what
+wind-force can mount to.&nbsp; To be the toy of it is enough to
+fill the stoutest heart with awe.&nbsp; The harbour was full of
+transports, merchant ships, opium clippers, besides four or five
+men-of-war, and a steamer belonging to the East India
+Company&mdash;the first steamship I had ever seen.</p>
+<p>The coming of a typhoon is well known to the natives at least
+twenty-four hours beforehand, and every preparation is made for
+it.&nbsp; Boats are dragged far up the beach; buildings even are
+fortified for resistance.&nbsp; Every ship had laid out its
+anchors, lowered its yards, and housed its topmasts.&nbsp; We had
+both bowers down, with cables paid out to extreme length.&nbsp;
+The danger was either in drifting on shore or, what was more
+imminent, collision.&nbsp; When once the tornado struck us there
+was nothing more to be done; no men could have worked on
+deck.&nbsp; The seas broke by tons over all; boats beached as
+described were lifted from the ground, and hurled, in some
+instances, over the houses.&nbsp; The air was darkened by the
+spray.</p>
+<p>But terrible as was the raging of wind and water, far more
+awful was the vain struggle for life of the human beings who
+succumbed to it.&nbsp; In a short time almost all the ships
+except the men-of-war, which were better provided with anchors,
+began to drift from their moorings.&nbsp; Then wreck followed
+wreck.&nbsp; I do not think the &lsquo;Blonde&rsquo; moved; but
+from first to last we were threatened with the additional weight
+and strain of a drifting vessel.&nbsp; Had we been so hampered
+our anchorage must have given way.&nbsp; As a single example of
+the force of a typhoon, the &lsquo;Phlegethon&rsquo; with three
+anchors down, and engines working at full speed, was blown past
+us out of the harbour.</p>
+<p>One tragic incident I witnessed, which happened within a few
+fathoms of the &lsquo;Blonde.&rsquo;&nbsp; An opium clipper had
+drifted athwart the bow of a large merchantman, which in turn was
+almost foul of us.&nbsp; In less than five minutes the clipper
+sank.&nbsp; One man alone reappeared on the surface.&nbsp; He was
+so close, that from where I was holding on and crouching under
+the lee of the mainmast I could see the expression of his
+face.&nbsp; He was a splendidly built man, and his strength and
+activity must have been prodigious.&nbsp; He clung to the cable
+of the merchantman, which he had managed to clasp.&nbsp; As the
+vessel reared between the seas he gained a few feet before he was
+again submerged.&nbsp; At last he reached the hawse-hole.&nbsp;
+Had he hoped, in spite of his knowledge, to find it large enough
+to admit his body?&nbsp; He must have known the truth; and yet he
+struggled on.&nbsp; Did he hope that, when thus within
+arms&rsquo; length of men in safety, some pitying hand would be
+stretched out to rescue him,&mdash;a rope&rsquo;s end perhaps
+flung out to haul him inboard?&nbsp; Vain desperate hope!&nbsp;
+He looked upwards: an imploring look.&nbsp; Would Heaven be more
+compassionate than man?&nbsp; A mountain of sea towered above his
+head; and when again the bow was visible, the man was gone for
+ever.</p>
+<p>Before taking leave of my seafaring days, I must say one word
+about corporal punishment.&nbsp; Sir Thomas Bouchier was a good
+sailor, a gallant officer, and a kind-hearted man; but he was one
+of the old school.&nbsp; Discipline was his watchword, and he
+endeavoured to maintain it by severity.&nbsp; I dare say that, on
+an average, there was a man flogged as often as once a month
+during the first two years the &lsquo;Blonde&rsquo; was in
+commission.&nbsp; A flogging on board a man-of-war with a
+&lsquo;cat,&rsquo; the nine tails of which were knotted, and the
+lashes of which were slowly delivered, up to the four dozen, at
+the full swing of the arm, and at the extremity of lash and
+handle, was very severe punishment.&nbsp; Each knot brought
+blood, and the shock of the blow knocked the breath out of a man
+with an involuntary &lsquo;Ugh!&rsquo; however stoically he bore
+the pain.</p>
+<p>I have seen many a bad man flogged for unpardonable conduct,
+and many a good man for a glass of grog too much.&nbsp; My firm
+conviction is that the bad man was very little the better; the
+good man very much the worse.&nbsp; The good man felt the
+disgrace, and was branded for life.&nbsp; His self-esteem was
+permanently maimed, and he rarely held up his head or did his
+best again.&nbsp; Besides which,&mdash;and this is true of all
+punishment&mdash;any sense of injustice destroys respect for the
+punisher.&nbsp; Still I am no sentimentalist; I have a contempt
+for, and even a dread of, sentimentalism.&nbsp; For boy
+housebreakers, and for ruffians who commit criminal assaults, the
+rod or the lash is the only treatment.</p>
+<p>A comic piece of insubordination on my part recurs to me in
+connection with flogging.&nbsp; About the year 1840 or 1841, a
+midshipman on the Pacific station was flogged.&nbsp; I think the
+ship was the &lsquo;Peak.&rsquo;&nbsp; The event created some
+sensation, and was brought before Parliament.&nbsp; Two frigates
+were sent out to furnish a quorum of post-captains to try the
+responsible commander.&nbsp; The verdict of the court-martial was
+a severe reprimand.&nbsp; This was, of course, nuts to every
+midshipman in the service.</p>
+<p>Shortly after it became known I got into a scrape for laughing
+at, and disobeying the orders of, our first-lieutenant,&mdash;the
+head of the executive on board a frigate.&nbsp; As a matter of
+fact, the orders were ridiculous, for the said officer was
+tipsy.&nbsp; Nevertheless, I was reported, and had up before the
+captain.&nbsp; &lsquo;Old Tommy&rsquo; was, or affected to be,
+very angry.&nbsp; I am afraid I was very
+&lsquo;cheeky.&rsquo;&nbsp; Whereupon Sir Thomas did lose his
+temper, and threatened to send for the boatswain to tie me up and
+give me a dozen,&mdash;not on the back, but where the back leaves
+off.&nbsp; Undismayed by the threat, and mindful of the episode
+of the &lsquo;Peak&rsquo; (?) I looked the old gentleman in the
+face, and shrilly piped out, &lsquo;It&rsquo;s as much as your
+commission is worth, sir.&rsquo;&nbsp; In spite of his previous
+wrath, he was so taken aback by my impudence that he burst out
+laughing, and, to hide it, kicked me out of the cabin.</p>
+<p>After another severe attack of fever, and during a long
+convalescence, I was laid up at Macao, where I enjoyed the
+hospitality of Messrs. Dent and of Messrs. Jardine and
+Matheson.&nbsp; Thence I was invalided home, and took my passage
+to Bombay in one of the big East India tea-ships.&nbsp; As I was
+being carried up the side in the arms of one of the boatmen, I
+overheard another exclaim: &lsquo;Poor little beggar.&nbsp;
+He&rsquo;ll never see land again!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The only other passenger was Colonel Frederick Cotton, of the
+Madras Engineers, one of a distinguished family.&nbsp; He, too,
+had been through the China campaign, and had also broken
+down.&nbsp; We touched at Manila, Batavia, Singapore, and several
+other ports in the Malay Archipelago, to take in cargo.&nbsp;
+While that was going on, Cotton, the captain, and I made
+excursions inland.&nbsp; Altogether I had a most pleasant time of
+it till we reached Bombay.</p>
+<p>My health was now re-established; and after a couple of weeks
+at Bombay, where I lived in a merchant&rsquo;s house, Cotton took
+me to Poonah and Ahmadnagar; in both of which places I stayed
+with his friends, and messed with the regiments.&nbsp; Here a
+copy of the &lsquo;Times&rsquo; was put into my hands; and I saw
+a notice of the death of my father.</p>
+<p>After a fortnight&rsquo;s quarantine at La Valetta, where two
+young Englishmen&mdash;one an Oxford man&mdash;shared the same
+rooms in the fort with me, we three returned to England; and (I
+suppose few living people can say the same) travelled from Naples
+to Calais before there was a single railway on the Continent.</p>
+<p>At the end of two months&rsquo; leave in England I was
+appointed to the &lsquo;Caledonia,&rsquo; flagship at
+Plymouth.&nbsp; Sir Thomas Bouchier had written to the Admiral,
+Sir Edward Codrington, of Navarino fame (whose daughter Sir
+Thomas afterwards married), giving me &lsquo;a
+character.&rsquo;&nbsp; Sir Edward sent for me, and was most
+kind.&nbsp; He told me I was to go to the Pacific in the first
+ship that left for South America, which would probably be in a
+week or two; and he gave me a letter to his friend, Admiral
+Thomas, who commanded on that station.</p>
+<p>About this time, and for a year or two later, the relations
+between England and America were severely strained by what was
+called &lsquo;the Oregon question.&rsquo;&nbsp; The dispute was
+concerning the right of ownership of the mouth of the Columbia
+river, and of Vancouver&rsquo;s Island.&nbsp; The President as
+well as the American people took the matter up very warmly; and
+much discretion was needed to avert the outbreak of
+hostilities.</p>
+<p>In Sir Edward&rsquo;s letter, which he read out and gave to me
+open, he requested Admiral Thomas to put me into any ship
+&lsquo;that was likely to see service&rsquo;; and quoted a word
+or two from my dear old captain Sir Thomas, which would probably
+have given me a lift.</p>
+<p>The prospect before me was brilliant.&nbsp; What could be more
+delectable than the chance of a war?&nbsp; My fancy pictured all
+sorts of opportunities, turned to the best account,&mdash;my
+seniors disposed of, and myself, with a pair of epaulets,
+commanding the smartest brig in the service.</p>
+<p>Alack-a-day! what a climb down from such high flights my life
+has been.&nbsp; The ship in which I was to have sailed to the
+west was suddenly countermanded to the east.&nbsp; She was to
+leave for China the following week, and I was already appointed
+to her, not even as a &lsquo;super.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>My courage and my ambition were wrecked at a blow.&nbsp; The
+notion of returning for another three years to China, where all
+was now peaceful and stale to me, the excitement of the war at an
+end, every port reminding me of my old comrades, visions of
+renewed fevers and horrible food,&mdash;were more than I could
+stand.</p>
+<p>I instantly made up my mind to leave the Navy.&nbsp; It was a
+wilful, and perhaps a too hasty, impulse.&nbsp; But I am
+impulsive by nature; and now that my father was dead, I fancied
+myself to a certain extent my own master.&nbsp; I knew moreover,
+by my father&rsquo;s will, that I should not be dependent upon a
+profession.&nbsp; Knowledge of such a fact has been the ruin of
+many a better man than I.&nbsp; I have no virtuous superstitions
+in favour of poverty&mdash;quite the reverse&mdash;but I am
+convinced that the rich man, who has never had to earn his
+position or his living, is more to be pitied and less respected
+than the poor man whose comforts certainly, if not his bread,
+have depended on his own exertions.</p>
+<p>My mother had a strong will of her own, and I could not guess
+what line she might take.&nbsp; I also apprehended the opposition
+of my guardians.&nbsp; On the whole, I opined a woman&rsquo;s
+heart would be the most suitable for an appeal <i>ad
+misericordiam</i>.&nbsp; So I pulled out the agony stop, and
+worked the pedals of despair with all the anguish at my
+command.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;It was easy enough for her to <i>revel in luxury</i>
+and consign me to a life worse than a
+<i>convict&rsquo;s</i>.&nbsp; But how would <i>she</i> like to
+live on <i>salt junk</i>, to keep <i>night watches</i>, to have
+to cut up her blankets for <i>ponchos</i> (I knew she had never
+heard the word, and that it would tell accordingly), to save her
+from being <i>frozen to death</i>?&nbsp; How would <i>she</i>
+like to be mast-headed when a ship was rolling gunwale
+under?&nbsp; As to the wishes of my guardians, were <i>their
+feelings</i> to be considered before mine?&nbsp; I should like to
+see Lord Rosebery or Lord Spencer in my place!&nbsp; They&rsquo;d
+very soon wish they had a mother who &amp;c. &amp;c.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>When my letter was finished I got leave to go ashore to post
+it.&nbsp; Feeling utterly miserable, I had my hair cut; and,
+rendered perfectly reckless by my appearance, I consented to have
+what was left of it tightly curled with a pair of tongs.&nbsp; I
+cannot say that I shared in any sensible degree the pleasure
+which this operation seemed to give to the artist.&nbsp; But when
+I got back to the ship the sight of my adornment kept my
+messmates in an uproar for the rest of the afternoon.</p>
+<p>Whether the touching appeal to my mother produced tears, or of
+what kind, matters little; it effectually determined my
+career.&nbsp; Before my new ship sailed for China, I was home
+again, and in full possession of my coveted freedom as a
+civilian.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was settled that after a course
+of three years at a private tutor&rsquo;s I was to go to
+Cambridge.&nbsp; The life I had led for the past three years was
+not the best training for the fellow-pupil of lads of fifteen or
+sixteen who had just left school.&nbsp; They were much more ready
+to follow my lead than I theirs, especially as mine was always in
+the pursuit of pleasure.</p>
+<p>I was first sent to Mr. B.&rsquo;s, about a couple of miles
+from Alnwick.&nbsp; Before my time, Alnwick itself was considered
+out of bounds.&nbsp; But as nearly half the sin in this world
+consists in being found out, my companions and I managed never to
+commit any in this direction.</p>
+<p>We generally returned from the town with a bottle of some
+noxious compound called &lsquo;port&rsquo; in our pockets, which
+was served out in our &lsquo;study&rsquo; at night, while I read
+aloud the instructive adventures of Mr. Thomas Jones.&nbsp; We
+were, of course, supposed to employ these late hours in preparing
+our work for the morrow.&nbsp; One boy only protested that, under
+the combined seductions of the port and Miss Molly Seagrim, he
+could never make his verses scan.</p>
+<p>Another of our recreations was poaching.&nbsp; From my
+earliest days I was taught to shoot, myself and my brothers being
+each provided with his little single-barrelled flint and steel
+&lsquo;Joe Manton.&rsquo;&nbsp; At &mdash; we were surrounded by
+grouse moors on one side, and by well-preserved coverts on the
+other.&nbsp; The grouse I used to shoot in the evening while they
+fed amongst the corn stooks; for pheasants and hares, I used to
+get the other pupils to walk through the woods, while I with a
+gun walked outside.&nbsp; Scouts were posted to look out for
+keepers.</p>
+<p>Did our tutor know?&nbsp; Of course he knew.&nbsp; But think
+of the saving in the butcher&rsquo;s bill!&nbsp; Besides which,
+Mr. B. was otherwise preoccupied; he was in love with Mrs.
+B.&nbsp; I say &lsquo;in love,&rsquo; for although I could not be
+sure of it then, (having no direct experience of the <i>amantium
+ir&aelig;</i>,) subsequent observation has persuaded me that
+their perpetual quarrels could mean nothing else.&nbsp; This was
+exceedingly favourable to the independence of Mr. B.&rsquo;s
+pupils.&nbsp; But when asked by Mr. Ellice how I was getting on,
+I was forced in candour to admit that I was in a fair way to
+forget all I ever knew.</p>
+<p>By the advice of Lord Spencer I was next placed under the
+tuition of one of the minor canons of Ely.&nbsp; The Bishop of
+Ely&mdash;Dr. Allen&mdash;had been Lord Spencer&rsquo;s tutor,
+hence his elevation to the see.&nbsp; The Dean&mdash;Dr. Peacock,
+of algebraic and Trinity College fame&mdash;was good enough to
+promise &lsquo;to keep an eye&rsquo; on me.&nbsp; Lord Spencer
+himself took me to Ely; and there I remained for two years.&nbsp;
+They were two very important years of my life.&nbsp; Having no
+fellow pupil to beguile me, I was the more industrious.&nbsp; But
+it was not from the better acquaintance with ancient literature
+that I mainly benefited,&mdash;it was from my initiation to
+modern thought.&nbsp; I was a constant guest at the Deanery;
+where I frequently met such men as Sedgwick, Airey the
+Astronomer-Royal, Selwyn, Phelps the Master of Sydney, Canon
+Heaviside the master of Haileybury, and many other friends of the
+Dean&rsquo;s, distinguished in science, literature, and
+art.&nbsp; Here I heard discussed opinions on these subjects by
+some of their leading representatives.&nbsp; Naturally, as many
+of them were Churchmen, conversation often turned on the bearing
+of modern science, of geology especially if Sedgwick were of the
+party, upon Mosaic cosmogony, or Biblical exegesis generally.</p>
+<p>The knowledge of these learned men, the lucidity with which
+they expressed their views, and the earnestness with which they
+defended them, captivated my attention, and opened to me a new
+world of surpassing interest and gravity.</p>
+<p>What startled me most was the spirit in which a man of
+Sedgwick&rsquo;s intellectual power protested against the
+possible encroachments of his own branch of science upon the
+orthodox tenets of the Church.&nbsp; Just about this time an
+anonymous book appeared, which, though long since forgotten,
+caused no slight disturbance amongst dogmatic theologians.&nbsp;
+The tendency of this book, &lsquo;Vestiges of the
+Creation,&rsquo; was, or was then held to be, antagonistic to the
+arguments from design.&nbsp; Familiar as we now are with the
+theory of evolution, such a work as the &lsquo;Vestiges&rsquo;
+would no more stir the <i>odium theologicum</i> than
+Franklin&rsquo;s kite.&nbsp; Sedgwick, however, attacked it with
+a vehemence and a rancour that would certainly have roasted its
+author had the professor held the office of Grand Inquisitor.</p>
+<p>Though incapable of forming any opinion as to the scientific
+merits of such a book, or of Hugh Miller&rsquo;s writings, which
+he also attacked upon purely religious grounds, I was staggered
+by the fact that the Bible could possibly be impeached, or that
+it was not profanity to defend it even.&nbsp; Was it not the
+&lsquo;Word of God&rsquo;?&nbsp; And if so, how could any
+theories of creation, any historical, any philological
+researches, shake its eternal truth?</p>
+<p>Day and night I pondered over this new revelation.&nbsp; I
+bought the books&mdash;the wicked books&mdash;which nobody ought
+to read.&nbsp; The <i>Index Expurgatorius</i> became my guide for
+books to be digested.&nbsp; I laid hands on every heretical work
+I could hear of.&nbsp; By chance I made the acquaintance of a
+young man who, together with his family, were Unitarians.&nbsp; I
+got, and devoured, Channing&rsquo;s works.&nbsp; I found a
+splendid copy of Voltaire in the Holkham library, and hunted
+through the endless volumes, till I came to the &lsquo;Dialogues
+Philosophiques.&rsquo;&nbsp; The world is too busy, fortunately,
+to disturb its peace with such profane satire, such withering
+sarcasm as flashes through an &lsquo;entretien&rsquo; like that
+between &lsquo;Fr&egrave;re Rigolet&rsquo; and
+&lsquo;L&rsquo;Empereur de la Chine.&rsquo;&nbsp; Every French
+man of letters knows it by heart; but it would wound our English
+susceptibilities were I to cite it here.&nbsp; Then, too, the
+impious paraphrase of the Athanasian Creed, with its terrible
+climax, from the converting Jesuit: &lsquo;Or vous voyez bien . .
+. qu&rsquo;un homme qui ne croit pas cette histoire doit
+&ecirc;tre br&ucirc;l&eacute; dans ce monde ci, et dans
+l&rsquo;autre.&rsquo;&nbsp; To which
+&lsquo;L&rsquo;Empereur&rsquo; replies: &lsquo;&Ccedil;a
+c&rsquo;est clair comme le jour.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Could an ignorant youth, fevered with curiosity and the first
+goadings of the questioning spirit, resist such logic, such
+scorn, such scathing wit, as he met with here?</p>
+<p>Then followed Rousseau; &lsquo;Emile&rsquo; became my
+favourite.&nbsp; Froude&rsquo;s &lsquo;Nemesis of Faith&rsquo; I
+read, and many other books of a like tendency.&nbsp; Passive
+obedience, blind submission to authority, was never one of my
+virtues, and once my faith was shattered, I knew not where to
+stop&mdash;what to doubt, what to believe.&nbsp; If the
+injunction to &lsquo;prove all things&rsquo; was anything more
+than an empty apophthegm, inquiry, in St. Paul&rsquo;s eyes at
+any rate, could not be sacrilege.</p>
+<p>It was not happiness I sought,&mdash;not peace of mind at
+least; for assuredly my thirst for knowledge, for truth, brought
+me anything but peace.&nbsp; I never was more restless, or, at
+times, more unhappy.&nbsp; Shallow, indeed, must be the soul that
+can lightly sever itself from beliefs which lie at the roots of
+our moral, intellectual, and emotional being, sanctified too by
+associations of our earliest love and reverence.&nbsp; I used to
+wander about the fields, and sit for hours in sequestered spots,
+longing for some friend, some confidant to take counsel
+with.&nbsp; I knew no such friend.&nbsp; I did not dare to speak
+of my misgivings to others.&nbsp; In spite of my earnest desire
+for guidance, for more light, the strong grip of
+childhood&rsquo;s influences was impossible to shake off.&nbsp; I
+could not rid my conscience of the sin of doubt.</p>
+<p>It is this difficulty, this primary dependence on others,
+which develops into the child&rsquo;s first religion, that
+perpetuates the infantile character of human creeds; and, what is
+worse, generates the hideous bigotry which justifies that sad
+reflection of Lucretius: &lsquo;Tantum Religio potuit suadere
+malorum!&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">To</span> turn again to narrative, and to
+far less serious thoughts.&nbsp; The last eighteen months before
+I went to Cambridge, I was placed, or rather placed myself, under
+the tuition of Mr. Robert Collyer, rector of Warham, a living
+close to Holkham in the gift of my brother Leicester.&nbsp;
+Between my Ely tutor and myself there was but little
+sympathy.&nbsp; He was a man of much refinement, but with not
+much indulgence for such aberrant proclivities as mine.&nbsp;
+Without my knowledge, he wrote to Mr. Ellice lamenting my secret
+recusancy, and its moral dangers.&nbsp; Mr. Ellice came expressly
+from London, and stayed a night at Ely.&nbsp; He dined with us in
+the cloisters, and had a long private conversation with my tutor,
+and, before he left, with me.&nbsp; I indignantly resented the
+clandestine representations of Mr. S., and, without a word to Mr.
+Ellice or to anyone else, wrote next day to Mr. Collyer to beg
+him to take me in at Warham, and make what he could of me, before
+I went to Cambridge.&nbsp; It may here be said that Mr. Collyer
+had been my father&rsquo;s chaplain, and had lived at Holkham for
+several years as family tutor to my brothers and myself, as we in
+turn left the nursery.&nbsp; Mr. Collyer, upon receipt of my
+letter, referred the matter to Mr. Ellice; with his approval I
+was duly installed at Warham.&nbsp; Before describing my time
+there, I must tell of an incident which came near to affecting me
+in a rather important way.</p>
+<p>My mother lived at Longford in Derbyshire, an old place, now
+my home, which had come into the Coke family in James I.&rsquo;s
+reign, through the marriage of a son of Chief Justice
+Coke&rsquo;s with the heiress of the De Langfords, an ancient
+family from that time extinct.&nbsp; While staying there during
+my summer holidays, my mother confided to me that she had had an
+offer of marriage from Mr. Motteux, the owner of considerable
+estates in Norfolk, including two houses&mdash;Beachamwell and
+Sandringham.&nbsp; Mr. Motteux&mdash;&lsquo;Johnny
+Motteux,&rsquo; as he was called&mdash;was, like Tristram
+Shandy&rsquo;s father, the son of a wealthy &lsquo;Turkey
+merchant,&rsquo; which, until better informed, I always took to
+mean a dealer in poultry.&nbsp; &lsquo;Johnny,&rsquo; like
+another man of some notoriety, whom I well remember in my younger
+days&mdash;Mr. Creevey&mdash;had access to many large houses such
+as Holkham; not, like Creevey, for the sake of his scandalous
+tongue, but for the sake of his wealth.&nbsp; He had no (known)
+relatives; and big people, who had younger sons to provide for,
+were quite willing that one of them should be his heir.&nbsp;
+Johnny Motteux was an epicure with the best of
+<i>chefs</i>.&nbsp; His capons came from Paris, his salmon from
+Christchurch, and his Strasburg pies were made to order.&nbsp;
+One of these he always brought with him as a present to my
+mother, who used to say, &lsquo;Mr. Motteux evidently thinks the
+nearest way to my heart is down my throat.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>A couple of years after my father&rsquo;s death, Motteux wrote
+to my mother proposing marriage, and, to enhance his personal
+attractions, (in figure and dress he was a duplicate of the
+immortal Pickwick,) stated that he had made his will and had
+bequeathed Sandringham to me, adding that, should he die without
+issue, I was to inherit the remainder of his estates.</p>
+<p>Rather to my surprise, my mother handed the letter to me with
+evident signs of embarrassment and distress.&nbsp; My first
+exclamation was: &lsquo;How jolly!&nbsp; The shooting&rsquo;s
+first rate, and the old boy is over seventy, if he&rsquo;s a
+day.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>My mother apparently did not see it in this light.&nbsp; She
+clearly, to my disappointments did not care for the shooting; and
+my exultation only brought tears into her eyes.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Why, mother,&rsquo; I exclaimed, &lsquo;what&rsquo;s
+up?&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t you&mdash;don&rsquo;t you care for Johnny
+Motteux?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>She confessed that she did not.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Then why don&rsquo;t you tell him so, and not bother
+about his beastly letter?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;If I refuse him you will lose Sandringham.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But he says here he has already left it to
+me.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;He will alter his will.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Let him!&rsquo; cried I, flying out at such prospective
+meanness.&nbsp; &lsquo;Just you tell him you don&rsquo;t care a
+rap for him or for Sandringham either.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>In more lady-like terms she acted in accordance with my
+advice; and, it may be added, not long afterwards married Mr.
+Ellice.</p>
+<p>Mr. Motteux&rsquo;s first love, or one of them, had been Lady
+Cowper, then Lady Palmerston.&nbsp; Lady Palmerston&rsquo;s
+youngest son was Mr. Spencer Cowper.&nbsp; Mr. Motteux died a
+year or two after the above event.&nbsp; He made a codicil to his
+will, and left Sandringham and all his property to Mr. Spencer
+Cowper.&nbsp; Mr. Spencer Cowper was a young gentleman of costly
+habits.&nbsp; Indeed, he bore the slightly modified name of
+&lsquo;Expensive Cowper.&rsquo;&nbsp; As an attach&eacute; at
+Paris he was famous for his patronage of dramatic art&mdash;or
+artistes rather; the votaries of Terpsichore were especially
+indebted to his liberality.&nbsp; At the time of Mr.
+Motteux&rsquo;s demise, he was attached to the Embassy at St.
+Petersburg.&nbsp; Mr. Motteux&rsquo;s solicitors wrote
+immediately to inform him of his accession to their late
+client&rsquo;s wealth.&nbsp; It being one of Mr. Cowper&rsquo;s
+maxims never to read lawyers&rsquo; letters, (he was in daily
+receipt of more than he could attend to,) he flung this one
+unread into the fire; and only learnt his mistake through the
+congratulations of his family.</p>
+<p>The Prince Consort happened about this time to be in quest of
+a suitable country seat for his present Majesty; and Sandringham,
+through the adroit negotiations of Lord Palmerston, became the
+property of the Prince of Wales.&nbsp; The soul of the
+&lsquo;Turkey merchant,&rsquo; we cannot doubt, will repose in
+peace.</p>
+<p>The worthy rector of Warham St. Mary&rsquo;s was an oddity
+deserving of passing notice.&nbsp; Outwardly he was no
+Adonis.&nbsp; His plain features and shock head of foxy hair, his
+antiquated and neglected garb, his copious jabot&mdash;much
+affected by the clergy of those days&mdash;were becoming
+investitures of the inward man.&nbsp; His temper was
+inflammatory, sometimes leading to excesses, which I am sure he
+rued in mental sackcloth and ashes.&nbsp; But visitors at Holkham
+(unaware of the excellent motives and moral courage which
+inspired his conduct) were not a little amazed at the austerity
+with which he obeyed the dictates of his conscience.</p>
+<p>For example, one Sunday evening after dinner, when the
+drawing-room was filled with guests, who more or less preserved
+the decorum which etiquette demands in the presence of royalty,
+(the Duke of Sussex was of the party,) Charles Fox and Lady
+Anson, great-grandmother of the present Lord Lichfield, happened
+to be playing at chess.&nbsp; When the irascible dominie beheld
+them he pushed his way through the bystanders, swept the pieces
+from the board, and, with rigorous impartiality, denounced these
+impious desecrators of the Sabbath eve.</p>
+<p>As an example of his fidelity as a librarian, Mr. Panizzi used
+to relate with much glee how, whenever he was at Holkham, Mr.
+Collyer dogged him like a detective.&nbsp; One day, not wishing
+to detain the reverend gentleman while he himself spent the
+forenoon in the manuscript library, (where not only the ancient
+manuscripts, but the most valuable of the printed books, are kept
+under lock and key,) he considerately begged Mr. Collyer to leave
+him to his researches.&nbsp; The dominie replied &lsquo;that he
+knew his duty, and did not mean to neglect it.&rsquo;&nbsp; He
+did not lose sight of Mr. Panizzi.</p>
+<p>The notion that he&mdash;the great custodian of the
+nation&rsquo;s literary treasures&mdash;would snip out and pocket
+the title-page of the folio edition of Shakespeare, or of the
+Coverdale Bible, tickled Mr. Panizzi&rsquo;s fancy vastly.</p>
+<p>In spite, however, of our rector&rsquo;s fiery temperament, or
+perhaps in consequence of it, he was remarkably susceptible to
+the charms of beauty.&nbsp; We were constantly invited to dinner
+and garden parties in the neighbourhood; nor was the good rector
+slow to return the compliment.&nbsp; It must be confessed that
+the pupil shared to the full the impressibility of the tutor;
+and, as it happened, unknown to both, the two were in one case
+rivals.</p>
+<p>As the young lady afterwards occupied a very distinguished
+position in Oxford society, it can only be said that she was
+celebrated for her many attractions.&nbsp; She was then sixteen,
+and the younger of her suitors but two years older.&nbsp; As far
+as age was concerned, nothing could be more compatible.&nbsp; Nor
+in the matter of mutual inclination was there any disparity
+whatever.&nbsp; What, then, was the pupil&rsquo;s dismay when,
+after a dinner party at the rectory, and the company had left,
+the tutor, in a frantic state of excitement, seized the pupil by
+both hands, and exclaimed: &lsquo;She has accepted me!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Accepted you?&rsquo; I asked.&nbsp; &lsquo;Who has
+accepted you?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Who?&nbsp; Why, Miss &mdash;, of course!&nbsp; Who else
+do you suppose would accept me?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;No one,&rsquo; said I, with doleful sincerity.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;But did you propose to her?&nbsp; Did she understand what
+you said to her?&nbsp; Did she deliberately and seriously say
+&ldquo;Yes?&rdquo;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes, yes, yes,&rsquo; and his disordered jabot and
+touzled hair echoed the fatal word.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;O Smintheus of the silver bow!&rsquo; I groaned.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;It is the woman&rsquo;s part to create delusions,
+and&mdash;destroy them!&nbsp; To think of it! after all that has
+passed between us these&mdash;these three weeks, next
+Monday!&nbsp; &ldquo;Once and for ever.&rdquo;&nbsp; Did ever
+woman use such words before?&nbsp; And I&mdash;believed
+them!&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Did you speak to the mother?&rsquo; I
+asked in a fit of desperation.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;There was no time for that.&nbsp; Mrs. &mdash; was in
+the carriage, and I didn&rsquo;t pop [the odious word!] till I
+was helping her on with her cloak.&nbsp; The cloak, you see, made
+it less awkward.&nbsp; My offer was a sort of <i>obiter
+dictum</i>&mdash;a by-the-way, as it were.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;To the carriage, yes.&nbsp; But wasn&rsquo;t she taken
+by surprise?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Not a bit of it.&nbsp; Bless you! they always
+know.&nbsp; She pretended not to understand, but that&rsquo;s a
+way they have.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;And when you explained?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;There wasn&rsquo;t time for more.&nbsp; She laughed,
+and sprang into the carriage.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;And that was all?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;All! would you have had her spring into my
+arms?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;God forbid!&nbsp; You will have to face the mother
+to-morrow,&rsquo; said I, recovering rapidly from my
+despondency.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Face?&nbsp; Well, I shall have to call upon Mrs.
+&mdash;, if that&rsquo;s what you mean.&nbsp; A mere matter of
+form.&nbsp; I shall go over after lunch.&nbsp; But it
+needn&rsquo;t interfere with your work.&nbsp; You can go on with
+the &ldquo;Anabasis&rdquo; till I come back.&nbsp; And
+remember&mdash;<i>Neaniskos</i> is not a proper name, ha! ha!
+ha!&nbsp; The quadratics will keep till the evening.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+He was merry over his prospects, and I was not altogether
+otherwise.</p>
+<p>But there was no Xenophon, no algebra, that day!&nbsp; Dire
+was the distress of my poor dominie when he found the mother as
+much bewildered as the daughter was frightened, by the
+mistake.&nbsp; &lsquo;She,&rsquo; the daughter, &lsquo;had never
+for a moment imagined, &amp;c., &amp;c.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>My tutor was not long disheartened by such caprices&mdash;so
+he deemed them, as Miss Jemima&rsquo;s (she had a prettier name,
+you may be sure), and I did my best (it cost me little now) to
+encourage his fondest hopes.&nbsp; I proposed that we should
+drink the health of the future mistress of Warham in tea, which
+he cheerfully acceded to, all the more readily, that it gave him
+an opportunity to vent one of his old college jokes.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Yes, yes,&rsquo; said he, with a laugh,
+&lsquo;there&rsquo;s nothing like tea.&nbsp; <i>Te veniente
+die</i>, <i>te decedente canebam</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; Such sallies
+of innocent playfulness often smoothed his path in life.&nbsp; He
+took a genuine pleasure in his own jokes.&nbsp; Some men
+do.&nbsp; One day I dropped a pot of marmalade on a new carpet,
+and should certainly have been reprimanded for carelessness, had
+it not occurred to him to exclaim: &lsquo;<i>Jam satis
+terris</i>!&rsquo; and then laugh immoderately at his wit.</p>
+<p>That there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it,
+was a maxim he acted upon, if he never heard it. Within a month
+of the above incident he proposed to another lady upon the sole
+grounds that, when playing a game of chess, an exchange of pieces
+being contemplated, she innocently, but incautiously, observed,
+&lsquo;If you take me, I will take you.&rsquo;&nbsp; He referred
+the matter next day to my ripe judgment.&nbsp; As I had no
+partiality for the lady in question, I strongly advised him to
+accept so obvious a challenge, and go down on his knees to her at
+once.&nbsp; I laid stress on the knees, as the accepted form of
+declaration, both in novels and on the stage.</p>
+<p>In this case the beloved object, who was not embarrassed by
+excess of amiability, promptly desired him, when he urged his
+suit, &lsquo;not to make a fool of himself.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>My tutor&rsquo;s peculiarities, however, were not confined to
+his endeavours to meet with a lady rectoress.&nbsp; He sometimes
+surprised his hearers with the originality of his abstruse
+theories.&nbsp; One morning he called me into the stable yard to
+join in consultation with his gardener as to the advisability of
+killing a pig.&nbsp; There were two, and it was not easy to
+decide which was the fitter for the butcher.&nbsp; The rector
+selected one, I the other, and the gardener, who had nurtured
+both from their tenderest age, pleaded that they should be
+allowed to &lsquo;put on another score.&rsquo;&nbsp; The point
+was warmly argued all round.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The black sow,&rsquo; said I (they were both sows, you
+must know)&mdash;&lsquo;The black sow had a litter of ten last
+time, and the white one only six.&nbsp; Ergo, if history repeats
+itself, as I have heard you say, you should keep the black, and
+sacrifice the white.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But,&rsquo; objected the rector, &lsquo;that was the
+white&rsquo;s first litter, and the black&rsquo;s second.&nbsp;
+Why shouldn&rsquo;t the white do as well as the black next
+time?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;And better, your reverence,&rsquo; chimed in the
+gardener.&nbsp; &lsquo;The number don&rsquo;t allays depend on
+the sow, do it?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;That is neither here nor there,&rsquo; returned the
+rector.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said the gardener, who stood to his guns,
+&lsquo;if your reverence is right, as no doubt you will be,
+that&rsquo;ll make just twenty little pigs for the butcher, come
+Michaelmas.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;We can&rsquo;t kill &rsquo;em before they are
+born,&rsquo; said the rector.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;That&rsquo;s true, your reverence.&nbsp; But it comes
+to the same thing.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Not to the pigs,&rsquo; retorted the rector.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;To your reverence, I means.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;A pig at the butcher&rsquo;s,&rsquo; I suggested,
+&lsquo;is worth a dozen unborn.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;No one can deny it,&rsquo; said the rector, as he
+fingered the small change in his breeches pocket; and pointing
+with the other hand to the broad back of the black sow,
+exclaimed, &lsquo;This is the one, <i>Duplex agitur per lumbos
+spina</i>!&nbsp; She&rsquo;s got a back like an alderman&rsquo;s
+chin.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>Epicuri de grege porcus</i>,&rsquo; I assented, and
+the fate of the black sow was sealed.</p>
+<p>Next day an express came from Holkham, to say that Lady
+Leicester had given birth to a daughter.&nbsp; My tutor jumped
+out of his chair to hand me the note.&nbsp; &lsquo;Did I not
+anticipate the event&rsquo;? he cried.&nbsp; &lsquo;What a
+wonderful world we live in!&nbsp; Unconsciously I made room for
+the infant by sacrificing the life of that pig.&rsquo;&nbsp; As I
+never heard him allude to the doctrine of Pythagoras, as he had
+no leaning to Buddhism, and, as I am sure he knew nothing of the
+correlation of forces, it must be admitted that the conception
+was an original one.</p>
+<p>Be this as it may, Mr. Collyer was an upright and
+conscientious man.&nbsp; I owe him much, and respect his
+memory.&nbsp; He died at an advanced age, an honorary canon,
+and&mdash;a bachelor.</p>
+<p>Another portrait hangs amongst the many in my memory&rsquo;s
+picture gallery.&nbsp; It is that of his successor to the
+vicarage, the chaplaincy, and the librarianship, at
+Holkham&mdash;Mr. Alexander Napier&mdash;at this time, and until
+his death fifty years later, one of my closest and most cherished
+friends.&nbsp; Alexander Napier was the son of Macvey Napier,
+first editor of the &lsquo;Edinburgh Review.&rsquo;&nbsp; Thus,
+associated with many eminent men of letters, he also did some
+good literary work of his own.&nbsp; He edited Isaac
+Barrow&rsquo;s works for the University of Cambridge, also
+Boswell&rsquo;s &lsquo;Johnson,&rsquo; and gave various other
+proofs of his talents and his scholarship.&nbsp; He was the most
+delightful of companions; liberal-minded in the highest degree;
+full of quaint humour and quick sympathy; an excellent parish
+priest,&mdash;looking upon Christianity as a life and not a
+dogma; beloved by all, for he had a kind thought and a kind word
+for every needy or sick being in his parish.</p>
+<p>With such qualities, the man always predominated over the
+priest.&nbsp; Hence his large-hearted charity and indulgence for
+the faults&mdash;nay, crimes&mdash;of others.&nbsp; Yet, if taken
+aback by an outrage, or an act of gross stupidity, which even the
+perpetrator himself had to suffer for, he would momentarily lose
+his patience, and rap out an objurgation that would stagger the
+straiter-laced gentlemen of his own cloth, or an outsider who
+knew less of him than&mdash;the recording angel.</p>
+<p>A fellow undergraduate of Napier&rsquo;s told me a
+characteristic anecdote of his impetuosity.&nbsp; Both were
+Trinity men, and had been keeping high jinks at a supper party at
+Caius.&nbsp; The friend suddenly pointed to the clock, reminding
+Napier they had but five minutes to get into college before
+Trinity gates were closed.&nbsp; &lsquo;D&mdash;n the
+clock!&rsquo; shouted Napier, and snatching up the sugar basin
+(it was not <i>eau sucr&eacute;e</i> they were drinking),
+incontinently flung it at the face of the offending
+timepiece.</p>
+<p>This youthful vivacity did not desert him in later
+years.&nbsp; An old college friend&mdash;also a
+Scotchman&mdash;had become Bishop of Edinburgh.&nbsp; Napier paid
+him a visit (he described it to me himself).&nbsp; They talked of
+books, they talked of politics, they talked of English Bards and
+Scotch Reviewers, of Brougham, Horner, Wilson, Macaulay, Jeffrey,
+of Carlyle&rsquo;s dealings with Napier&rsquo;s
+father&mdash;&lsquo;Nosey,&rsquo; as Carlyle calls him.&nbsp;
+They chatted into the small hours of the night, as boon
+companions, and as what Bacon calls &lsquo;full&rsquo; men, are
+wont.&nbsp; The claret, once so famous in the &lsquo;land of
+cakes,&rsquo; had given place to toddy; its flow was in due
+measure to the flow of soul.&nbsp; But all that ends is
+short&mdash;the old friends had spent their last evening
+together.&nbsp; Yes, their last, perhaps.&nbsp; It was bed-time,
+and quoth Napier to his lordship, &lsquo;I tell you what it is,
+Bishop, I am na fou&rsquo;, but I&rsquo;ll be hanged if I
+haven&rsquo;t got two left legs.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I see something odd about them,&rsquo; says his
+lordship.&nbsp; &lsquo;We&rsquo;d better go to bed.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Who the bishop was I do not know, but I&rsquo;ll answer for it
+he was one of the right sort.</p>
+<p>In 1846 I became an undergraduate of Trinity College,
+Cambridge.&nbsp; I do not envy the man (though, of course, one
+ought) whose college days are not the happiest to look back
+upon.&nbsp; One should hope that however profitably a young man
+spends his time at the University, it is but the preparation for
+something better.&nbsp; But happiness and utility are not
+necessarily concomitant; and even when an undergraduate&rsquo;s
+course is least employed for its intended purpose (as, alas! mine
+was)&mdash;for happiness, certainly not pure, but simple, give me
+life at a University.</p>
+<p>Heaven forbid that any youth should be corrupted by my
+confession!&nbsp; But surely there are some pleasures pertaining
+to this unique epoch that are harmless in themselves, and are
+certainly not to be met with at any other.&nbsp; These are the
+first years of comparative freedom, of manhood, of
+responsibility.&nbsp; The novelty, the freshness of every
+pleasure, the unsatiated appetite for enjoyment, the animal
+vigour, the ignorance of care, the heedlessness of, or rather,
+the implicit faith in, the morrow, the absence of mistrust or
+suspicion, the frank surrender to generous impulses, the
+readiness to accept appearances for realities&mdash;to believe in
+every profession or exhibition of good will, to rush into the
+arms of every friendship, to lay bare one&rsquo;s tenderest
+secrets, to listen eagerly to the revelations which make us all
+akin, to offer one&rsquo;s time, one&rsquo;s energies,
+one&rsquo;s purse, one&rsquo;s heart, without a selfish
+afterthought&mdash;these, I say, are the priceless pleasures,
+never to be repeated, of healthful average youth.</p>
+<p>What has after-success, honour, wealth, fame, or,
+power&mdash;burdened, as they always are, with ambitions,
+blunders, jealousies, cares, regrets, and failing health&mdash;to
+match with this enjoyment of the young, the bright, the bygone,
+hour?&nbsp; The wisdom of the worldly teacher&mdash;at least, the
+<i>carpe diem</i>&mdash;was practised here before the injunction
+was ever thought of.&nbsp; <i>Du bist so sch&ouml;n</i> was the
+unuttered invocation, while the <i>Verweile doch</i> was deemed
+unneedful.</p>
+<p>Little, I am ashamed to own, did I add either to my small
+classical or mathematical attainments.&nbsp; But I made
+friendships&mdash;lifelong friendships, that I would not barter
+for the best of academical prizes.</p>
+<p>Amongst my associates or acquaintances, two or three of whom
+have since become known&mdash;were the last Lord Derby, Sir
+William Harcourt, the late Lord Stanley of Alderley, Latimer
+Neville, late Master of Magdalen, Lord Calthorpe, of racing fame,
+with whom I afterwards crossed the Rocky Mountains, the last Lord
+Durham, my cousin, Sir Augustus Stephenson, ex-solicitor to the
+Treasury, Julian Fane, whose lyrics were edited by Lord Lytton,
+and my life-long friend Charles Barrington, private secretary to
+Lord Palmerston and to Lord John Russell.</p>
+<p>But the most intimate of them was George Cayley, son of the
+member for the East Riding of Yorkshire.&nbsp; Cayley was a young
+man of much promise.&nbsp; In his second year he won the
+University prize poem with his &lsquo;Balder,&rsquo; and soon
+after published some other poems, and a novel, which met with
+merited oblivion.&nbsp; But it was as a talker that he
+shone.&nbsp; His quick intelligence, his ready wit, his command
+of language, made his conversation always lively, and sometimes
+brilliant.&nbsp; For several years after I left Cambridge I lived
+with him in his father&rsquo;s house in Dean&rsquo;s Yard, and
+thus made the acquaintance of some celebrities whom his
+fascinating and versatile talents attracted thither.&nbsp; As I
+shall return to this later on, I will merely mention here the
+names of such men as Thackeray, Tennyson, Frederick Locker,
+Stirling of Keir, Tom Taylor the dramatist, Millais, Leighton,
+and others of lesser note.&nbsp; Cayley was a member of, and
+regular attendant at, the Cosmopolitan Club; where he met
+Dickens, Foster, Shirley Brooks, John Leech, Dicky Doyle, and the
+wits of the day; many of whom occasionally formed part of our
+charming coterie in the house I shared with his father.</p>
+<p>Speaking of Tom Taylor reminds me of a good turn he once did
+me in my college examination at Cambridge.&nbsp; Whewell was then
+Master of Trinity.&nbsp; One of the subjects I had to take up was
+either the &lsquo;Amicitia&rsquo; or the &lsquo;Senectute&rsquo;
+(I forget which).&nbsp; Whewell, more formidable and alarming
+than ever, opened the book at hazard, and set me on to
+construe.&nbsp; I broke down.&nbsp; He turned over the page;
+again I stuck fast.&nbsp; The truth is, I had hardly looked at my
+lesson,&mdash;trusting to my recollection of parts of it to carry
+me through, if lucky, with the whole.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;What&rsquo;s your name, sir?&rsquo; was the
+Master&rsquo;s gruff inquiry.&nbsp; He did not catch it.&nbsp;
+But Tom Taylor&mdash;also an examiner&mdash;sitting next to him,
+repeated my reply, with the addition, &lsquo;Just returned from
+China, where he served as a midshipman in the late
+war.&rsquo;&nbsp; He then took the book out of Whewell&rsquo;s
+hands, and giving it to me closed, said good-naturedly:
+&lsquo;Let us have another try, Mr. Coke.&rsquo;&nbsp; The chance
+was not thrown away; I turned to a part I knew, and rattled off
+as if my first examiner had been to blame, not I.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Before</span> dropping the curtain on my
+college days I must relate a little adventure which is amusing as
+an illustration of my reverend friend Napier&rsquo;s enthusiastic
+spontaneity.&nbsp; My own share in the farce is a subordinate
+matter.</p>
+<p>During the Christmas party at Holkham I had &lsquo;fallen in
+love,&rsquo; as the phrase goes, with a young lady whose uncle
+(she had neither father nor mother) had rented a place in the
+neighbourhood.&nbsp; At the end of his visit he invited me to
+shoot there the following week.&nbsp; For what else had I paid
+him assiduous attention, and listened like an angel to the
+interminable history of his gout?&nbsp; I went; and before I
+left, proposed to, and was accepted by, the young lady.&nbsp; I
+was still at Cambridge, not of age, and had but moderate
+means.&nbsp; As for the maiden, &lsquo;my face is my
+fortune&rsquo; she might have said.&nbsp; The aunt, therefore,
+very properly pooh-poohed the whole affair, and declined to
+entertain the possibility of an engagement; the elderly gentleman
+got a bad attack of gout; and every wire of communication being
+cut, not an obstacle was wanting to render persistence the
+sweetest of miseries.</p>
+<p>Napier was my confessor, and became as keen to circumvent the
+&lsquo;old she-dragon,&rsquo; so he called her, as I was.&nbsp;
+Frequent and long were our consultations, but they generally
+ended in suggestions and schemes so preposterous, that the only
+result was an immoderate fit of laughter on both sides.&nbsp; At
+length it came to this (the proposition was not mine): we were to
+hire a post chaise and drive to the inn at G&mdash;.&nbsp; I was
+to write a note to the young lady requesting her to meet me at
+some trysting place.&nbsp; The note was to state that a clergyman
+would accompany me, who was ready and willing to unite us there
+and then in holy matrimony; that I would bring the licence in my
+pocket; that after the marriage we could confer as to ways and
+means; and that&mdash;she could leave the <i>rest</i> to me.</p>
+<p>No enterprise was ever more merrily conceived, or more
+seriously undertaken.&nbsp; (Please to remember that my friend
+was not so very much older than I; and, in other respects, was
+quite as juvenile.)</p>
+<p>Whatever was to come of it, the drive was worth the
+venture.&nbsp; The number of possible and impossible
+contingencies provided for kept us occupied by the hour.&nbsp;
+Furnished with a well-filled luncheon basket, we regaled
+ourselves and fortified our courage; while our hilarity increased
+as we neared, or imagined that we neared, the climax.&nbsp;
+Unanimously we repeated Dr. Johnson&rsquo;s exclamation in a post
+chaise: &lsquo;Life has not many things better than
+this.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>But where were we?&nbsp; Our watches told us that we had been
+two hours covering a distance of eleven miles.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Hi!&nbsp; Hullo!&nbsp; Stop!&rsquo; shouted
+Napier.&nbsp; In those days post horses were ridden, not driven;
+and about all we could see of the post boy was what Mistress
+Tabitha Bramble saw of Humphrey Clinker.&nbsp; &lsquo;Where the
+dickens have we got to now?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t know, I&rsquo;m sure, sir,&rsquo; says the
+boy; &lsquo;never was in these &rsquo;ere parts afore.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Why,&rsquo; shouts the vicar, after a survey of the
+landscape, &lsquo;if I can see a church by daylight, that&rsquo;s
+Blakeney steeple; and we are only three miles from where we
+started.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Sure enough it was so.&nbsp; There was nothing for it but to
+stop at the nearest house, give the horses a rest and a feed, and
+make a fresh start,&mdash;better informed as to our
+topography.</p>
+<p>It was past four on that summer afternoon when we reached our
+destination.&nbsp; The plan of campaign was cut and dried.&nbsp;
+I called for writing materials, and indicted my epistle as agreed
+upon.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;To whom are you telling her to address the
+answer?&rsquo; asked my accomplice.&nbsp; &lsquo;We&rsquo;re
+<i>incog.</i> you know.&nbsp; It won&rsquo;t do for either of us
+to be known.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Certainly not,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;What shall
+it be?&nbsp; White? Black? Brown? or Green?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Try Browne with an E,&rsquo; said he.&nbsp; &lsquo;The
+E gives an aristocratic flavour.&nbsp; We can&rsquo;t afford to
+risk our respectability.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The note sealed, I rang the bell for the landlord, desired him
+to send it up to the hall and tell the messenger to wait for an
+answer.</p>
+<p>As our host was leaving the room he turned round, with his
+hand on the door, and said:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Beggin&rsquo; your pardon, Mr. Cook, would you and Mr.
+Napeer please to take dinner here?&nbsp; I&rsquo;ve soom beatiful
+lamb chops, and you could have a ducklin&rsquo; and some nice
+young peas to your second course.&nbsp; The post-boy says the
+&rsquo;osses is pretty nigh done up; but by the
+time&mdash;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;How did you know our names?&rsquo; asked my
+companion.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Law sir!&nbsp; The post-boy, he told me.&nbsp; But,
+beggin&rsquo; your pardon, Mr. Napeer, my daughter, she lives in
+Holkham willage; and I&rsquo;ve heard you preach afore
+now.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Let&rsquo;s have the dinner by all means,&rsquo; said
+I.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;If the Bishop sequesters my living,&rsquo; cried
+Napier, with solemnity, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll summon the landlord for
+defamation of character.&nbsp; But time&rsquo;s up.&nbsp; You
+must make for the boat-house, which is on the other side of the
+park.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll go with you to the head of the
+lake.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We had not gone far, when we heard the sound of an approaching
+vehicle.&nbsp; What did we see but an open carriage, with two
+ladies in it, not a hundred yards behind us.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The aunt! by all that&rsquo;s&mdash;!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>What&mdash;&nbsp; I never heard; for, before the sentence was
+completed, the speaker&rsquo;s long legs were scampering out of
+sight in the direction of a clump of trees, I following as hard
+as I could go.</p>
+<p>As the carriage drove past, my Friar Lawrence was lying in a
+ditch, while I was behind an oak.&nbsp; We were near enough to
+discern the niece, and consequently we feared to be
+recognised.&nbsp; The situation was neither dignified nor
+romantic.&nbsp; My friend was sanguine, though big ardour was
+slightly damped by the ditch water.&nbsp; I doubted the
+expediency of trying the boat-house, but he urged the risk of her
+disappointment, which made the attempt imperative.</p>
+<p>The padre returned to the inn to dry himself, and, in due
+course, I rejoined him.&nbsp; He met me with the answer to my
+note.&nbsp; &lsquo;The boat-house,&rsquo; it declared, &lsquo;was
+out of the question.&nbsp; But so, of course, was the
+<i>possibility</i> of <i>change</i>.&nbsp; We must put our trust
+in <i>Providence</i>.&nbsp; Time could make <i>no</i> difference
+in <i>our</i> case, whatever it might do with
+<i>others</i>.&nbsp; <i>She</i>, at any rate, could wait for
+<span class="GutSmall">YEARS</span>.&rsquo;&nbsp; Upon the whole
+the result was comforting&mdash;especially as the
+&lsquo;years&rsquo; dispensed with the necessity of any immediate
+step more desperate than dinner.&nbsp; This we enjoyed like men
+who had earned it; and long before I deposited my dear friar in
+his cell both of us were snoring in our respective corners of the
+chaise.</p>
+<p>A word or two will complete this romantic episode.&nbsp; The
+next long vacation I spent in London, bent, needless to say, on a
+happy issue to my engagement.&nbsp; How simple, in the
+retrospect, is the frustration of our hopes!&nbsp; I had not been
+a week in town, had only danced once with my
+<i>fianc&eacute;e</i>, when, one day, taking a tennis lesson from
+the great Barre, a forced ball grazed the frame of my racket, and
+broke a blood vessel in my eye.</p>
+<p>For five weeks I was shut up in a dark room.&nbsp; It was two
+more before I again met my charmer.&nbsp; She did not tell me,
+but her man did, that their wedding day was fixed for the 10th of
+the following month; and he &lsquo;hoped they would have the
+pleasure of seeing me at the breakfast!&rsquo;&nbsp; [I made the
+following note of the fact: N.B.&mdash;A woman&rsquo;s tears may
+cost her nothing; but her smiles may be expensive.]</p>
+<p>I must, however, do the young lady the justice to state that,
+though her future husband was no great things as a
+&lsquo;man,&rsquo; as she afterwards discovered, he was the heir
+to a peerage and great wealth.&nbsp; Both he and she, like most
+of my collaborators in this world, have long since passed into
+the other.</p>
+<p>The fashions of bygone days have always an interest for the
+living: the greater perhaps the less remote.&nbsp; We like to
+think of our ancestors of two or three generations off&mdash;the
+heroes and heroines of Jane Austen, in their pantaloons and
+high-waisted, short-skirted frocks, their pigtails and powdered
+hair, their sandalled shoes, and Hessian boots.&nbsp; Our near
+connection with them entrances our self-esteem.&nbsp; Their prim
+manners, their affected bows and courtesies, the &lsquo;dear Mr.
+So-and-So&rsquo; of the wife to her husband, the
+&lsquo;Sir&rsquo; and &lsquo;Madam&rsquo; of the children to
+their parents, make us wonder whether their flesh and blood were
+ever as warm as ours; or whether they were a race of prigs and
+puppets?</p>
+<p>My memory carries me back to the remnants of these lost
+externals&mdash;that which is lost was nothing more; the men and
+women were every whit as human as ourselves.&nbsp; My
+half-sisters wore turbans with birds-of-paradise in them.&nbsp;
+My mother wore gigot sleeves; but objected to my father&rsquo;s
+pigtail, so cut it off.&nbsp; But my father powdered his head,
+and kept to his knee-breeches to the last; so did all elderly
+gentlemen, when I was a boy.&nbsp; For the matter of that, I saw
+an old fellow with a pigtail walking in the Park as late as
+1845.&nbsp; He, no doubt, was an ultra-conservative.</p>
+<p>Fashions change so imperceptibly that it is difficult for the
+historian to assign their initiatory date.&nbsp; Does the young
+dandy of to-day want to know when white ties came into
+vogue?&mdash;he knows that his great-grandfather wore a white
+neckcloth, and takes it for granted, may be, that his grandfather
+did so too.&nbsp; Not a bit of it.&nbsp; The young Englander of
+the Coningsby type&mdash;the Count d&rsquo;Orsays of my youth,
+scorned the white tie alike of their fathers and their
+sons.&nbsp; At dinner-parties or at balls, they adorned
+themselves in satin scarfs, with a jewelled pin or chained pair
+of pins stuck in them.&nbsp; I well remember the
+rebellion&mdash;the protest against effeminacy&mdash;which the
+white tie called forth amongst some of us upon its first invasion
+on evening dress.&nbsp; The women were in favour of it, and, of
+course, carried the day; but not without a struggle.&nbsp; One
+night at Holkham&mdash;we were a large party, I daresay at least
+fifty at dinner&mdash;the men came down in black scarfs, the
+women in white &lsquo;chokers.&rsquo;&nbsp; To make the contest
+complete, these all sat on one side of the table, and we men on
+the other.&nbsp; The battle was not renewed; both factions
+surrendered.&nbsp; But the women, as usual, got their way,
+and&mdash;their men.</p>
+<p>For my part I could never endure the original white
+neckcloth.&nbsp; It was stiffly starched, and wound twice round
+the neck; so I abjured it for the rest of my days; now and then I
+got the credit of being a coxcomb&mdash;not for my pains, but for
+my comfort.&nbsp; Once, when dining at the Viceregal Lodge at
+Dublin, I was &lsquo;pulled up&rsquo; by an aide-de-camp for my
+unbecoming attire; but I stuck to my colours, and was none the
+worse.&nbsp; Another time my offence called forth a touch of good
+nature on the part of a great man, which I hardly know how to
+speak of without writing me down an ass.&nbsp; It was at a
+crowded party at Cambridge House.&nbsp; (Let me plead my youth; I
+was but two-and-twenty.)&nbsp; Stars and garters were scarcely a
+distinction.&nbsp; White ties were then as imperative as shoes
+and stockings; I was there in a black one.&nbsp; My candid
+friends suggested withdrawal, my relations cut me assiduously,
+strangers by my side whispered at me aloud, women turned their
+shoulders to me; and my only prayer was that my accursed tie
+would strangle me on the spot.&nbsp; One pair of sharp eyes,
+however, noticed my ignominy, and their owner was moved by
+compassion for my sufferings.&nbsp; As I was slinking away, Lord
+Palmerston, with a <i>bonhomie</i> peculiarly his own, came up to
+me; and with a shake of the hand and hearty manner, asked after
+my brother Leicester, and when he was going to bring me into
+Parliament?&mdash;ending with a smile: &lsquo;Where are you off
+to in such a hurry?&rsquo;&nbsp; That is the sort of tact that
+makes a party leader.&nbsp; I went to bed a proud, instead of a
+humiliated, man; ready, if ever I had the chance, to vote that
+black was white, should he but state it was so.</p>
+<p>Beards and moustache came into fashion after the Crimean
+war.&nbsp; It would have been an outrage to wear them before that
+time.&nbsp; When I came home from my travels across the Rocky
+Mountains in 1851, I was still unshaven.&nbsp; Meeting my younger
+brother&mdash;a fashionable guardsman&mdash;in St. James&rsquo;s
+Street, he exclaimed, with horror and disgust at my barbarity,
+&lsquo;I suppose you mean to cut off that thing!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Smoking, as indulged in now, was quite out of the question
+half a century ago.&nbsp; A man would as soon have thought of
+making a call in his dressing-gown as of strolling about the West
+End with a cigar in his mouth.&nbsp; The first whom I ever saw
+smoke a cigarette at a dining-table after dinner was the King;
+some forty years ago, or more perhaps.&nbsp; One of the many
+social benefits we owe to his present Majesty.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">During</span> my blindness I was
+hospitably housed in Eaten Place by Mr. Whitbread, the head of
+the renowned firm.&nbsp; After my recovery I had the good fortune
+to meet there Lady Morgan, the once famous authoress of the
+&lsquo;Wild Irish Girl.&rsquo;&nbsp; She still bore traces of her
+former comeliness, and had probably lost little of her sparkling
+vivacity.&nbsp; She was known to like the company of young
+people, as she said they made her feel young; so, being the
+youngest of the party, I had the honour of sitting next her at
+dinner.&nbsp; When I recall her conversation and her pleasing
+manners, I can well understand the homage paid both abroad and at
+home to the bright genius of the Irish actor&rsquo;s
+daughter.</p>
+<p>We talked a good deal about Byron and Lady Caroline
+Lamb.&nbsp; This arose out of my saying I had been reading
+&lsquo;Glenarvon,&rsquo; in which Lady Caroline gives
+Byron&rsquo;s letters to herself as Glenarvon&rsquo;s letters to
+the heroine.&nbsp; Lady Morgan had been the confidante of Lady
+Caroline, had seen many of Byron&rsquo;s letters, and possessed
+many of her friend&rsquo;s&mdash;full of details of the
+extraordinary intercourse which had existed between the two.</p>
+<p>Lady Morgan evidently did not believe (in spite of Lady
+Caroline&rsquo;s mad passion for the poet) that the liaison ever
+reached the ultimate stage contemplated by her lover.&nbsp; This
+opinion was strengthened by Lady Caroline&rsquo;s undoubted
+attachment to her husband&mdash;William Lamb, afterwards Lord
+Melbourne&mdash;who seems to have submitted to his wife&rsquo;s
+vagaries with his habitual stoicism and good humour.</p>
+<p>Both Byron and Lady Caroline had violent tempers, and were
+always quarrelling.&nbsp; This led to the final rupture, when,
+according to my informant, the poet&rsquo;s conduct was
+outrageous.&nbsp; He sent her some insulting lines, which Lady
+Morgan quoted.&nbsp; The only one I remember is:</p>
+<blockquote><p>Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Among other amusing anecdotes she told was one of
+Disraeli.&nbsp; She had met him (I forget where), soon after his
+first success as the youthful author of &lsquo;Vivian
+Grey.&rsquo;&nbsp; He was naturally made much of, but rather in
+the Bohemian world than by such queens of society as Lady Holland
+or Lady Jersey.&nbsp; &lsquo;And faith!&rsquo; she added, with
+the piquante accent which excitement evoked, &lsquo;he took the
+full shine out of his janius.&nbsp; And how do ye think he was
+dressed?&nbsp; In a black velvet jacket and suit to match, with a
+red sash round his waist, in which was stuck a dagger with a
+richly jew&rsquo;lled sheath and handle.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The only analogous instance of self-confidence that I can call
+to mind was Garibaldi&rsquo;s costume at a huge reception at
+Stafford House.&nbsp; The <i>&eacute;lite</i> of society was
+there, in diamonds, ribbons, and stars, to meet him.&nbsp;
+Garibaldi&rsquo;s uppermost and outermost garment was a red
+flannel shirt, nothing more nor less.</p>
+<p>The crowd jostled and swayed around him.&nbsp; To get out of
+the way of it, I retreated to the deserted picture gallery.&nbsp;
+The only person there was one who interested me more than the
+scarlet patriot, Bulwer-Lytton the First.&nbsp; He was sauntering
+to and fro with his hands behind his back, looking dingy in his
+black satin scarf, and dejected.&nbsp; Was he envying the Italian
+hero the obsequious reverence paid to his miner&rsquo;s
+shirt?&nbsp; (Nine tenths of the men, and still more of the women
+there, knew nothing of the wearer, or his cause, beyond
+that.)&nbsp; Was he thinking of similar honours which had been
+lavished upon himself when <i>his</i> star was in the
+zenith?&nbsp; Was he muttering to himself the usual consolation
+of the &lsquo;have-beens&rsquo;&mdash;<i>vanitas
+vanitatum</i>?&nbsp; Or what new fiction, what old love, was
+flitting through that versatile and fantastic brain?&nbsp; Poor
+Bulwer!&nbsp; He had written the best novel, the best play, and
+had made the most eloquent parliamentary oration of any man of
+his day.&nbsp; But, like another celebrated statesman who has
+lately passed away, he strutted his hour and will soon be
+forgotten&mdash;&lsquo;Quand on broute sa gloire en herbe de son
+vivant, on ne la r&eacute;colte pas en &eacute;pis apr&egrave;s
+sa mort.&rsquo;&nbsp; The &lsquo;Masses,&rsquo; so courted by the
+one, however blatant, are not the arbiters of immortal fame.</p>
+<p>To go back a few years before I met Lady Morgan: when my
+mother was living at 18 Arlington Street, Sydney Smith used to be
+a constant visitor there.&nbsp; One day he called just as we were
+going to lunch.&nbsp; He had been very ill, and would not eat
+anything.&nbsp; My mother suggested the wing of a chicken.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;My dear lady,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;it was only
+yesterday that my doctor positively refused my request for the
+wing of a butterfly.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Another time when he was making a call I came to the door
+before it was opened.&nbsp; When the footman answered the bell,
+&lsquo;Is Lady Leicester at home?&rsquo; he asked.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;No, sir,&rsquo; was the answer.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;That&rsquo;s a good job,&rsquo; he exclaimed, but with
+a heartiness that fairly took Jeames&rsquo; breath away.</p>
+<p>As Sydney&rsquo;s face was perfectly impassive, I never felt
+quite sure whether this was for the benefit of myself or of the
+astounded footman; or whether it was the genuine expression of an
+absent mind.&nbsp; He was a great friend of my mother&rsquo;s,
+and of Mr. Ellice&rsquo;s, but his fits of abstraction were
+notorious.</p>
+<p>He himself records the fact.&nbsp; &lsquo;I knocked at a door
+in London, asked, &ldquo;Is Mrs. B&mdash; at home?&rdquo;&nbsp;
+&ldquo;Yes, sir; pray what name shall I say?&rdquo;&nbsp; I
+looked at the man&rsquo;s face astonished.&nbsp; What name? what
+name? aye, that is the question.&nbsp; What is my name?&nbsp; I
+had no more idea who I was than if I had never existed.&nbsp; I
+did not know whether I was a dissenter or a layman.&nbsp; I felt
+as dull as Sternhold and Hopkins.&nbsp; At last, to my great
+relief, it flashed across me that I was Sydney Smith.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>In the summer of the year 1848 Napier and I stayed a couple of
+nights with Captain Marryat at Langham, near Blakeney.&nbsp; He
+used constantly to come over to Holkham to watch our cricket
+matches.&nbsp; His house was a glorified cottage, very
+comfortable and prettily decorated.&nbsp; The dining and
+sitting-rooms were hung with the original water-colour
+drawings&mdash;mostly by Stanfield, I think&mdash;which
+illustrated his minor works.&nbsp; Trophies from all parts of the
+world garnished the walls.&nbsp; The only inmates beside us two
+were his son, a strange, but clever young man with considerable
+artistic abilities, and his talented daughter, Miss Florence,
+since so well known to novel readers.</p>
+<p>Often as I had spoken to Marryat, I never could quite make him
+out.&nbsp; Now that I was his guest his habitual reserve
+disappeared, and despite his failing health he was geniality
+itself.&nbsp; Even this I did not fully understand at
+first.&nbsp; At the dinner-table his amusement seemed, I
+won&rsquo;t say to make a &lsquo;butt&rsquo; of me&mdash;his
+banter was too good-natured for that&mdash;but he treated me as
+Dr. Primrose treated his son after the bushel-of-green-spectacles
+bargain.&nbsp; He invented the most wonderful stories, and told
+them with imperturbable sedateness.&nbsp; Finding a credulous
+listener in me, he drew all the more freely upon his
+invention.&nbsp; When, however, he gravely asserted that Jonas
+was not the only man who had spent three days and three nights in
+a whale&rsquo;s belly, but that he himself had caught a whale
+with a man inside it who had lived there for more than a year on
+blubber, which, he declared, was better than turtle soup, it was
+impossible to resist the fooling, and not forget that one was the
+Moses of the extravaganza.</p>
+<p>In the evening he proposed that his son and daughter and I
+should act a charade.&nbsp; Napier was the audience, and Marryat
+himself the orchestra&mdash;that is, he played on his fiddle such
+tunes as a ship&rsquo;s fiddler or piper plays to the heaving of
+the anchor, or for hoisting in cargo.&nbsp; Everyone was in
+romping spirits, and notwithstanding the cheery Captain&rsquo;s
+signs of fatigue and worn looks, which he evidently strove to
+conceal, the evening had all the freshness and spirit of an
+impromptu pleasure.</p>
+<p>When I left, Marryat gave me his violin, with some sad words
+about his not being likely to play upon it more.&nbsp; Perhaps he
+knew better than we how prophetically he was speaking.&nbsp;
+Barely three weeks afterwards I learnt that the humorous creator
+of &lsquo;Midshipman Easy&rsquo; would never make us laugh
+again.</p>
+<p>In 1846 Lord John Russell succeeded Sir Robert Peel as
+premier.&nbsp; At the General Election, a brother of mine was the
+Liberal candidate for the seat in East Norfolk.&nbsp; He was
+returned; but was threatened with defeat through an occurrence in
+which I was innocently involved.</p>
+<p>The largest landowner in this division of the county, next to
+my brother Leicester, was Lord Hastings&mdash;great-grandfather
+of the present lord.&nbsp; On the occasion I am referring to, he
+was a guest at Holkham, where a large party was then
+assembled.&nbsp; Leicester was particularly anxious to be civil
+to his powerful neighbour; and desired the members of his family
+to show him every attention.&nbsp; The little lord was an
+exceedingly punctilious man: as scrupulously dapper in manner as
+he was in dress.&nbsp; Nothing could be more courteous, more
+smiling, than his habitual demeanour; but his bite was worse than
+his bark, and nobody knew which candidate his agents had
+instructions to support in the coming contest.&nbsp; It was quite
+on the cards that the secret order would turn the scales.</p>
+<p>One evening after dinner, when the ladies had left us, the men
+were drawn together and settled down to their wine.&nbsp; It was
+before the days of cigarettes, and claret was plentifully
+imbibed.&nbsp; I happened to be seated next to Lord Hastings on
+his left; on the other side of him was Spencer Lyttelton, uncle
+of our Colonial Secretary.&nbsp; Spencer Lyttelton was a notable
+character.&nbsp; He had much of the talents and amiability of his
+distinguished family; but he was eccentric, exceedingly comic,
+and dangerously addicted to practical jokes.&nbsp; One of these
+he now played upon the spruce and vigilant little potentate whom
+it was our special aim to win.</p>
+<p>As the decanters circulated from right to left, Spencer filled
+himself a bumper, and passed the bottles on.&nbsp; Lord Hastings
+followed suit.&nbsp; I, unfortunately, was speaking to Lyttelton
+behind Lord Hastings&rsquo;s back, and as he turned and pushed
+the wine to me, the incorrigible joker, catching sight of the
+handkerchief sticking out of my lord&rsquo;s coat-tail, quick as
+thought drew it open and emptied his full glass into the gaping
+pocket.&nbsp; A few minutes later Lord Hastings, who took snuff,
+discovered what had happened.&nbsp; He held the dripping cloth up
+for inspection, and with perfect urbanity deposited it on his
+dessert plate.</p>
+<p>Leicester looked furious, but said nothing till we joined the
+ladies.&nbsp; He first spoke to Hastings, and then to me.&nbsp;
+What passed between the two I do not know.&nbsp; To me, he said:
+&lsquo;Hastings tells me it was you who poured the claret into
+his pocket.&nbsp; This will lose the election.&nbsp; After
+to-morrow, I shall want your room.&rsquo;&nbsp; Of course, the
+culprit confessed; and my brother got the support we hoped
+for.&nbsp; Thus it was that the political interests of several
+thousands of electors depended on a glass of wine.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<p>I <span class="GutSmall">HAD</span> completed my second year
+at the University, when, in October 1848, just as I was about to
+return to Cambridge after the long vacation, an old
+friend&mdash;William Grey, the youngest of the
+ex-Prime-Minister&rsquo;s sons&mdash;called on me at my London
+lodgings.&nbsp; He was attached to the Vienna Embassy, where his
+uncle, Lord Ponsonby, was then ambassador.&nbsp; Shortly before
+this there had been serious insurrections both in Paris, Vienna,
+and Berlin.</p>
+<p>Many may still be living who remember how Louis Philippe fled
+to England; how the infection spread over this country; how
+25,000 Chartists met on Kennington Common; how the upper and
+middle classes of London were enrolled as special constables,
+with the future Emperor of the French amongst them; how the
+promptitude of the Iron Duke saved London, at least, from the
+fate of the French and Austrian capitals.</p>
+<p>This, however, was not till the following spring.&nbsp; Up to
+October, no overt defiance of the Austrian Government had yet
+asserted itself; but the imminence of an outbreak was the anxious
+thought of the hour.&nbsp; The hot heads of Germany, France, and
+England were more than meditating&mdash;they were threatening,
+and preparing for, a European revolution.&nbsp; Bloody battles
+were to be fought; kings and emperors were to be dethroned and
+decapitated; mobs were to take the place of parliaments; the
+leaders of the &lsquo;people&rsquo;&mdash;<i>i.e.</i> the stump
+orators&mdash;were to rule the world; property was to be divided
+and subdivided down to the shirt on a man&rsquo;s&mdash;a rich
+man&rsquo;s&mdash;back; and every &lsquo;po&rsquo;r&rsquo; man
+was to have his own, and&mdash;somebody else&rsquo;s.&nbsp; This
+was the divine law of Nature, according to the gospels of Saint
+Jean Jacques and Mr. Feargus O&rsquo;Connor.&nbsp; We were all
+naked under our clothes, which clearly proved our equality.&nbsp;
+This was the simple, the beautiful programme; once carried out,
+peace, fraternal and eternal peace, would reign&mdash;till it
+ended, and the earthly Paradise would be an accomplished
+fact.</p>
+<p>I was an ultra-Radical&mdash;a younger-son Radical&mdash;in
+those days.&nbsp; I was quite ready to share with my elder
+brother; I had no prejudice in favour of my superiors; I had
+often dreamed of becoming a leader of the
+&lsquo;people&rsquo;&mdash;a stump orator, <i>i.e.</i>&mdash;with
+the handsome emoluments of ministerial office.</p>
+<p>William Grey came to say good-bye.&nbsp; He was suddenly
+recalled in consequence of the insurrection.&nbsp; &lsquo;It is a
+most critical state of affairs,&rsquo; he said.&nbsp; &lsquo;A
+revolution may break out all over the Continent at any
+moment.&nbsp; There&rsquo;s no saying where it may end.&nbsp; We
+are on the eve of a new epoch in the history of Europe.&nbsp; I
+wouldn&rsquo;t miss it on any account.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Most interesting! most interesting!&rsquo; I
+exclaimed.&nbsp; &lsquo;How I wish I were going with
+you!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Come,&rsquo; said he, with engaging brevity.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;How can I?&nbsp; I&rsquo;m just going back to
+Cambridge.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You are of age, aren&rsquo;t you?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I nodded.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;And your own master?&nbsp; Come; you&rsquo;ll never
+have such a chance again.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;When do you start?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;To-morrow morning early.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But it is too late to get a passport.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Not a bit of it.&nbsp; I have to go to the Foreign
+Office for my despatches.&nbsp; Dine with me to-night at my
+mother&rsquo;s&mdash;nobody else&mdash;and I&rsquo;ll bring your
+passport in my pocket.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;So be it, then.&nbsp; Billy Whistle [the irreverend
+nickname we undergraduates gave the Master of Trinity] will
+rusticate me to a certainty.&nbsp; It can&rsquo;t be
+helped.&nbsp; The cause is sacred.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll meet you at
+Lady Grey&rsquo;s to-night.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We reached our destination at daylight on October 9.&nbsp; We
+had already heard, while changing carriages at Breslau station,
+that the revolution had broken out at Vienna, that the rails were
+torn up, the Bahn-hof burnt, the military defeated and driven
+from the town.&nbsp; William Grey&rsquo;s official papers, aided
+by his fluent German, enabled us to pass the barriers, and find
+our way into the city.&nbsp; He went straight to the Embassy, and
+sent me on to the &lsquo;Erzherzog Carl&rsquo; in the
+K&auml;rnthner Thor Strasse, at that time the best hotel in
+Vienna.&nbsp; It being still nearly dark, candles were burning in
+every window by order of the insurgents.</p>
+<p>The preceding day had been an eventful one.&nbsp; The
+proletariats, headed by the students, had sacked the arsenal, the
+troops having made but slight resistance.&nbsp; They then marched
+to the War Office and demanded the person of the War Minister,
+Count Latour, who was most unpopular on account of his known
+appeal to Jellachich, the Ban of Croatia, to assist, if required,
+in putting down the disturbances.&nbsp; Some sharp fighting here
+took place.&nbsp; The rioters defeated the small body of soldiers
+on the spot, captured two guns, and took possession of the
+building.&nbsp; The unfortunate minister was found in one of the
+upper garrets of the palace.&nbsp; The ruffians dragged him from
+his place of concealment, and barbarously murdered him.&nbsp;
+They then flung his body from the window, and in a few minutes it
+was hanging from a lamp-post above the heads of the infuriated
+and yelling mob.</p>
+<p>In 1848 the inner city of Vienna was enclosed within a broad
+and lofty bastion, fosse, and glacis.&nbsp; These were levelled
+in 1857.&nbsp; As soon as the troops were expelled, cannon were
+placed on the Bastei so as to command the approaches from
+without.&nbsp; The tunnelled gateways were built up, and
+barricades erected across every principal thoroughfare.&nbsp;
+Immediately after these events Ferdinand I. abdicated in favour
+of the present Emperor Francis Joseph, who retired with the Court
+to Sch&ouml;brunn.&nbsp; Foreigners at once took flight, and the
+hotels were emptied.&nbsp; The only person left in the
+&lsquo;Archduke Charles&rsquo; beside myself was Mr. Bowen,
+afterwards Sir George, Governor of New Zealand, with whom I was
+glad to fraternise.</p>
+<p>These humble pages do not aspire to the dignity of History;
+but a few words as to what took place are needful for the
+writer&rsquo;s purposes.&nbsp; The garrison in Vienna had been
+comparatively small; and as the National Guard had joined the
+students and proletariats, it was deemed advisable by the
+Government to await the arrival of reinforcements under Prince
+Windischgr&auml;tz, who, together with a strong body of Servians
+and Croats under Jellachich, might overawe the insurgents; or, if
+not, recapture the city without unnecessary bloodshed.&nbsp; The
+rebels were buoyed up by hopes of support from the Hungarians
+under Kossuth.&nbsp; But in this they were disappointed.&nbsp; In
+less than three weeks from the day of the outbreak the city was
+beleaguered.&nbsp; Fighting began outside the town on the
+24th.&nbsp; On the 25th the soldiers occupied the Wieden and
+Nussdorf suburbs.&nbsp; Next day the Gemeinderath (Municipal
+Council) sent a <i>Parlement&auml;r</i> to treat with
+Windischgr&auml;tz.&nbsp; The terms were rejected, and the city
+was taken by storm on October 30.</p>
+<p>A few days before the bombardment, the Austrian commander gave
+the usual notice to the Ambassadors to quit the town.&nbsp; This
+they accordingly did.&nbsp; Before leaving, Lord Ponsonby kindly
+sent his private secretary, Mr. George Samuel, to warn me and
+invite me to join him at Sch&ouml;nbrunn.&nbsp; I politely
+elected to stay and take my chance.&nbsp; After the attack on the
+suburbs began I had reason to regret the decision.&nbsp; The
+hotels were entered by patrols, and all efficient waiters
+<i>kommandiere&rsquo;d</i> to work at the barricades, or carry
+arms.&nbsp; On the fourth day I settled to change sides.&nbsp;
+The constant banging of big guns, and rattle of musketry, with
+the impossibility of getting either air or exercise without the
+risk of being indefinitely deprived of both, was becoming less
+amusing than I had counted on.&nbsp; I was already provided with
+a <i>Passierschein</i>, which franked me inside the town, and up
+to the insurgents&rsquo; outposts.&nbsp; The difficulty was how
+to cross the neutral ground and the two opposing lines.&nbsp;
+Broad daylight was the safest time for the purpose; the officious
+sentry is not then so apt to shoot his friend.&nbsp; With much
+stalking and dodging I made a bolt; and, notwithstanding violent
+gesticulations and threats, got myself safely seized and hurried
+before the nearest commanding officer.</p>
+<p>He happened to be a general or a colonel.&nbsp; He was a
+fierce looking, stout old gentleman with a very red face, all the
+redder for his huge white moustache and well-filled white
+uniform.&nbsp; He began by fuming and blustering as if about to
+order me to summary execution.&nbsp; He spoke so fast, it was not
+easy to follow him.&nbsp; Probably my amateur German was as
+puzzling to him.&nbsp; The <i>Passierschein</i>, which I
+produced, was not in my favour; unfortunately I had forgotten my
+Foreign Office passport.&nbsp; What further added to his
+suspicion was his inability to comprehend why I had not availed
+myself of the notice, duly given to all foreigners, to leave the
+city before active hostilities began.&nbsp; How anyone, who had
+the choice, could be fool enough to stay and be shelled or
+bayoneted, was (from his point of view) no proof of
+respectability.&nbsp; I assured him he was mistaken if he thought
+I had a predilection for either of these alternatives.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;It was just because I desired to avoid both that I had
+sought, not without risk, the protection I was so sure of finding
+at the hands of a great and gallant soldier.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Dummes Zeug! dummes Zeug!&rsquo; (stuff o&rsquo;
+nonsense), he puffed.&nbsp; But a peppery man&rsquo;s good humour
+is often as near the surface as his bad.&nbsp; I detected a
+pleasant sparkle in his eye.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Pardon me, Excellenz,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;my presence
+here is the best proof of my sincerity.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;That,&rsquo; said he sharply, &lsquo;is what every
+rascal might plead when caught with a rebel&rsquo;s pass in his
+pocket.&nbsp; Geleitsbriefe f&uuml;r Schurken sind Steckbriefe
+f&uuml;r die Gerechtigkeit.&rsquo;&nbsp; (Safe-conduct passes for
+knaves are writs of capias to honest men.)</p>
+<p>I answered: &lsquo;But an English gentleman is not a knave;
+and no one knows the difference better than your
+Excellenz.&rsquo;&nbsp; The term &lsquo;Schurken&rsquo; (knaves)
+had stirred my fire; and though I made a deferential bow, I
+looked as indignant as I felt.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well, well,&rsquo; he said pacifically, &lsquo;you may
+go about your business.&nbsp; But <i>sehen Sie</i>, young man,
+take my advice, don&rsquo;t satisfy your curiosity at the cost of
+a broken head.&nbsp; Dazu geh&ouml;ren Kerle die eigens
+geschaffen sind.&rsquo;&nbsp; As much as to say: &lsquo;Leave
+halters to those who are born to be hanged.&rsquo;&nbsp; Indeed,
+the old fellow looked as if he had enjoyed life too well to
+appreciate parting with it gratuitously.</p>
+<p>I had nothing with me save the clothes on my back.&nbsp; When
+I should again have access to the &lsquo;Erzherzcg Carl&rsquo;
+was impossible to surmise.&nbsp; The only decent inn I knew of
+outside the walls was the &lsquo;Golden L&aacute;mm,&rsquo; on
+the suburb side of the Donau Canal, close to the Ferdinand bridge
+which faces the Rothen Thurm Thor.&nbsp; Here I entered, and
+found it occupied by a company of Nassau
+<i>j&auml;gers</i>.&nbsp; A barricade was thrown up across the
+street leading to the bridge.&nbsp; Behind it were two
+guns.&nbsp; One end of the barricade abutted on the &lsquo;Golden
+L&aacute;mm.&rsquo;&nbsp; With the exception of the soldiers, the
+inn seemed to be deserted; and I wanted both food and
+lodging.&nbsp; The upper floor was full of
+<i>j&auml;gers</i>.&nbsp; The front windows over-looked the
+Bastei.&nbsp; These were now blocked with mattresses, to protect
+the men from bullets.&nbsp; The distance from the ramparts was
+not more than 150 yards, and woe to the student or the fat
+grocer, in his National Guard uniform, who showed his head above
+the walls.&nbsp; While I was in the attics a gun above the city
+gate fired at the battery below.&nbsp; I ran down a few minutes
+later to see the result.&nbsp; One artilleryman had been
+killed.&nbsp; He was already laid under the gun-carriage, his
+head covered with a cloak.</p>
+<p>The storming took place a day or two afterwards.&nbsp; One of
+the principal points of resistance had been at the bottom of the
+J&auml;gerzeile.&nbsp; The insurgents had a battery of several
+guns here; and the handsome houses at the corners facing the
+Prater had been loop-holed and filled with students.&nbsp; I
+walked round the town after all was over, and was especially
+impressed with the horrors I witnessed.&nbsp; The beautiful
+houses, with their gorgeous furniture, were a mass of smoking
+ruins.&nbsp; Not a soul was to be seen, not even a prowling
+thief.&nbsp; I picked my way into one or two of them without
+hindrance.&nbsp; Here and there were a heap of bodies, some burnt
+to cinders, some with their clothes still smouldering.&nbsp; The
+smell of the roasted flesh was a disgusting association for a
+long time to come.&nbsp; But the whole was sickening to look at,
+and still more so, if possible, to reflect upon; for this was the
+price which so often has been, so often will be, paid for the
+alluring dream of liberty, and for the pursuit of that
+mischievous will-o&rsquo;-the-wisp&mdash;jealous Equality.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Vienna</span> in the early part of the
+last century was looked upon as the gayest capital in
+Europe.&nbsp; Even the frightful convulsion it had passed through
+only checked for a while its chronic pursuit of pleasure.&nbsp;
+The cynical philosopher might be tempted to contrast this not
+infrequent accessory of paternal rule with the purity and
+contentment so fondly expected from a democracy&mdash;or shall we
+say a demagoguey?&nbsp; The cherished hopes of the so-called
+patriots had been crushed; and many were the worse for the
+struggle.&nbsp; But the majority naturally subsided into their
+customary vocations&mdash;beer-drinking, pipe-smoking, music,
+dancing, and play-going.</p>
+<p>The Vienna of 1848 was the Vienna described by Madame de
+Sta&euml;l in 1810: &lsquo;Dans ce pays, l&rsquo;on traite les
+plaisirs comme les devoirs. . . . Vous verrez des hommes et des
+femmes ex&eacute;cuter gravement, l&rsquo;un vis-&agrave;-vis de
+l&rsquo;autre, les pas d&rsquo;un menuet dont ils sont
+impos&eacute; l&rsquo;amusement, . . . comme s&rsquo;il [the
+couple] dansait pour l&rsquo;acquit de sa conscience.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Every theatre and place of amusement was soon re-opened.&nbsp;
+There was an excellent opera; Strauss&mdash;the
+original&mdash;presided over weekly balls and concerts.&nbsp; For
+my part, being extremely fond of music, I worked industriously at
+the violin, also at German.&nbsp; My German master, Herr Mauthner
+by name, was a little hump-backed Jew, who seemed to know every
+man and woman (especially woman) worth knowing in Vienna.&nbsp;
+Through him I made the acquaintance of several families of the
+middle class,&mdash;amongst them that of a veteran musician who
+had been Beethoven&rsquo;s favourite flute-player.&nbsp; As my
+veneration for Beethoven was unbounded, I listened with awe to
+every trifling incident relating to the great master.&nbsp; I
+fear the conviction left on my mind was that my idol, though
+transcendent amongst musicians, was a bear amongst men.&nbsp;
+Pride (according to his ancient associate) was his strong
+point.&nbsp; This he vindicated by excessive rudeness to everyone
+whose social position was above his own.&nbsp; Even those that
+did him a good turn were suspected of patronising.&nbsp;
+Condescension was a prerogative confined to himself.&nbsp; In
+this respect, to be sure, there was nothing singular.</p>
+<p>At the house of the old flutist we played family
+quartets,&mdash;he, the father, taking the first violin part on
+his flute, I the second, the son the &rsquo;cello, and his
+daughter the piano.&nbsp; It was an atmosphere of music that we
+all inhaled; and my happiness on these occasions would have been
+unalloyed, had not the young lady&mdash;a damsel of
+six-and-forty&mdash;insisted on poisoning me (out of compliment
+to my English tastes) with a bitter decoction she was pleased to
+call tea.&nbsp; This delicate attention, I must say, proved an
+effectual souvenir till we met again&mdash;I dreaded it.</p>
+<p>Now and then I dined at the Embassy.&nbsp; One night I met
+there Prince Paul Esterhazy, so distinguished by his diamonds
+when Austrian Ambassador at the coronation of Queen
+Victoria.&nbsp; He talked to me of the Holkham sheep-shearing
+gatherings, at which from 200 to 300 guests sat down to dinner
+every day, including crowned heads, and celebrities from both
+sides of the Atlantic.&nbsp; He had twice assisted at these in my
+father&rsquo;s time.&nbsp; He also spoke of the shooting; and
+promised, if I would visit him in Hungary, he would show me as
+good sport as had ever seen in Norfolk.&nbsp; He invited Mr.
+Magenis&mdash;the Secretary of Legation&mdash;to accompany
+me.</p>
+<p>The following week we two hired a <i>britzcka</i>, and posted
+to Eisenstadt.&nbsp; The lordly grandeur of this last of the
+feudal princes manifested itself soon after we crossed the
+Hungarian frontier.&nbsp; The first sign of it was the livery and
+badge worn by the postillions.&nbsp; Posting houses, horses and
+roads, were all the property of His Transparency.</p>
+<p>Eisenstadt itself, though not his principal seat, is a large
+palace&mdash;three sides of a triangle.&nbsp; One wing is the
+residence, that opposite the barrack, (he had his own troops,)
+and the connecting base part museum and part concert-hall.&nbsp;
+This last was sanctified by the spirit of Joseph Haydn, for so
+many years Kapellmeister to the Esterhazy family.&nbsp; The
+conductor&rsquo;s stand and his spinet remained intact.&nbsp;
+Even the stools and desks in the orchestra (so the Prince assured
+me) were ancient.&nbsp; The very dust was sacred.&nbsp; Sitting
+alone in the dim space, one could fancy the great little man
+still there, in his snuff-coloured coat and ruffles, half buried
+(as on state occasions) in his &lsquo;<i>allonge
+per&uuml;cke</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; A tap of his magic wand starts
+into life his quaint old-fashioned band, and the powder flies
+from their wigs.&nbsp; Soft, distant, ghostly harmonies of the
+Surprise Symphony float among the rafters; and now, as in a
+dream, we are listening to&mdash;nay, beholding&mdash;the
+glorious process of Creation; till suddenly the mighty chord is
+struck, and we are startled from our trance by the burst of
+myriad voices echoing the command and its fulfilment, &lsquo;Let
+there be light: and there was light.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Only a family party was assembled in the house.&nbsp; A Baron
+something, and a Graf something&mdash;both relations,&mdash;and
+the son, afterwards Ambassador at St. Petersburg during the
+Crimean War.&nbsp; The latter was married to Lady Sarah Villiers,
+who was also there.&nbsp; It is amusing to think that the
+beautiful daughter of the proud Lady Jersey should be looked upon
+by the Austrians as somewhat of a <i>m&eacute;salliance</i> for
+one of the chiefs of their nobility.&nbsp; Certain it is that the
+young Princess was received by them, till they knew her, with
+more condescension than enthusiasm.</p>
+<p>An air of feudal magnificence pervaded the palace: spacious
+reception-rooms hung with armour and trophies of the chase;
+numbers of domestics in epauletted and belaced, but ill-fitting,
+liveries; the prodigal supply and nationality of the
+comestibles&mdash;wild boar with marmalade, venison and game of
+all sorts with excellent &lsquo;Eingemachtes&rsquo; and
+&lsquo;Mehlspeisen&rsquo; galore&mdash;a feast for a Gamache or a
+Gargantua.&nbsp; But then, all save three, remember, were
+Germans&mdash;and Germans!&nbsp; Noteworthy was the delicious
+Ch&acirc;teau Y&rsquo;quem, of which the Prince declared he had a
+monopoly&mdash;meaning the best, I presume.&nbsp; After dinner
+the son, his brother-in-law, and I, smoked our meerschaums and
+played pools of <i>&eacute;cart&eacute;</i> in the young
+Prince&rsquo;s room.&nbsp; Magenis, who was much our senior, had
+his rubber downstairs with the elders.</p>
+<p>The life was pleasant enough, but there was one little
+medieval peculiarity which almost made one look for retainers in
+goat-skins and rushes on the floor,&mdash;there was not a bath
+(except the Princess&rsquo;s) in the palace!&nbsp; It was with
+difficulty that my English servant foraged a tub from the kitchen
+or the laundry.&nbsp; As to other sanitary arrangements, they
+were what they doubtless had been in the days of Almos and his
+son, the mighty Arped.&nbsp; In keeping with these venerable
+customs, I had a sentry at the door of my apartments; to protect
+me, belike, from the ghosts of predatory barons and
+marauders.</p>
+<p>During the week we had two days&rsquo; shooting; one in the
+coverts, quite equal to anything of the kind in England, the
+other at wild boar.&nbsp; For the latter, a tract of the
+Carpathian Mountains had been driven for some days before into a
+wood of about a hundred acres.&nbsp; At certain points there were
+sheltered stands, raised four or five feet from the ground, so
+that the sportsmen had a commanding view of the broad alley or
+clearing in front of him, across which the stags or boar were
+driven by an army of beaters.</p>
+<p>I had my own double-barrelled rifle; but besides this, a man
+with a rack on his back bearing three rifles of the
+prince&rsquo;s, a loader, and a <i>F&ouml;rster</i>, with a
+hunting knife or short sword to despatch the wounded
+quarry.&nbsp; Out of the first rush of pigs that went by I
+knocked over two; and, in my keenness, jumped out of the stand
+with the <i>F&ouml;rster</i> who ran to finish them off.&nbsp; I
+was immediately collared and brought back; and as far as I could
+make out, was taken for a lunatic, or at least for a
+&lsquo;duffer,&rsquo; for my rash attempt to approach unarmed a
+wounded tusker.&nbsp; When we all met at the end of the day, the
+bag of the five guns was forty-five wild boars.&nbsp; The
+biggest&mdash;and he was a monster&mdash;fell to the rifle of the
+Prince, as was of course intended.</p>
+<p>The old man took me home in his carriage.&nbsp; It was a
+beautiful drive.&nbsp; One&rsquo;s idea of an English
+park&mdash;even such a park as Windsor&rsquo;s&mdash;dwindled
+into that of a pleasure ground, when compared with the boundless
+territory we drove through.&nbsp; To be sure, it was no more a
+park than is the New Forest; but it had all the character of the
+best English scenery&mdash;miles of fine turf, dotted with clumps
+of splendid trees, and gigantic oaks standing alone in their
+majesty.&nbsp; Now and then a herd of red deer were startled in
+some sequestered glade; but no cattle, no sheep, no sign of
+domestic care.&nbsp; Struck with the charm of this primeval
+wilderness, I made some remark about the richness of the pasture,
+and wondered there were no sheep to be seen.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;There,&rsquo; said the old man, with a touch of pride, as
+he pointed to the blue range of the Carpathians; &lsquo;that is
+my farm.&nbsp; I will tell you.&nbsp; All the celebrities of the
+day who were interested in farming used to meet at Holkham for
+what was called the sheep-shearing.&nbsp; I once told your father
+I had more shepherds on my farm than there were sheep on
+his.&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">It was</span> with a sorry heart that I
+bade farewell to my Vienna friends, my musical comrades, the
+Legation hospitalities, and my faithful little Israelite.&nbsp;
+But the colt frisks over the pasture from sheer superfluity of
+energy; and between one&rsquo;s second and third decades
+instinctive restlessness&mdash;spontaneous movement&mdash;is the
+law of one&rsquo;s being.&nbsp; &rsquo;Tis then that &lsquo;Hope
+builds as fast as knowledge can destroy.&rsquo;&nbsp; The
+enjoyment we abandon is never so sweet as that we seek.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Pleasure never is at home.&rsquo;&nbsp; Happiness means
+action for its own sake, change, incessant change.</p>
+<p>I sought and found it in Bavaria, Bohemia, Russia, all over
+Germany, and dropped anchor one day in Cracow; a week afterwards
+in Warsaw.&nbsp; These were out-of-the-way places then; there
+were no tourists in those days; I did not meet a single
+compatriot either in the Polish or Russian town.</p>
+<p>At Warsaw I had an adventure not unlike that which befell me
+at Vienna.&nbsp; The whole of Europe, remember, was in a state of
+political ferment.&nbsp; Poland was at least as ready to rise
+against its oppressor then as now; and the police was
+proportionately strict and arbitrary.&nbsp; An army corps was
+encamped on the right bank of the Vistula, ready for expected
+emergencies.&nbsp; Under these circumstances, passports, as may
+be supposed, were carefully inspected; except in those of British
+subjects, the person of the bearer was described&mdash;his
+height, the colour of his hair (if he had any), or any mark that
+distinguished him.</p>
+<p>In my passport, after my name, was added &lsquo;<i>et son
+domestique</i>.&rsquo;&nbsp; The inspector who examined it at the
+frontier pointed to this, and, in indifferent German, asked me
+where that individual was.&nbsp; I replied that I had sent him
+with my baggage to Dresden, to await my arrival there.&nbsp; A
+consultation thereupon took place with another official, in a
+language I did not understand; and to my dismay I was informed
+that I was&mdash;in custody.&nbsp; The small portmanteau I had
+with me, together with my despatch-box, was seized; the latter
+contained a quantity of letters and my journal.&nbsp; Money only
+was I permitted to retain.</p>
+<p>Quite by the way, but adding greatly to my discomfort, was the
+fact that since leaving Prague, where I had relinquished
+everything I could dispense with, I had had much night travelling
+amongst native passengers, who so valued cleanliness that they
+economised it with religious care.&nbsp; By the time I reached
+Warsaw, I may say, without metonymy, that I was itching (all
+over) for a bath and a change of linen.&nbsp; My irritation,
+indeed, was at its height.&nbsp; But there was no appeal; and on
+my arrival I was haled before the authorities.</p>
+<p>Again, their head was a general officer, though not the least
+like my portly friend at Vienna.&nbsp; His business was to sit in
+judgment upon delinquents such as I.&nbsp; He was a spare,
+austere man, surrounded by a sharp-looking aide-de-camp, several
+clerks in uniform, and two or three men in mufti, whom I took to
+be detectives.&nbsp; The inspector who arrested me was present
+with my open despatch-box and journal.&nbsp; The journal he
+handed to the aide, who began at once to look it through while
+his chief was disposing of another case.</p>
+<p>To be suspected and dragged before this tribunal was, for the
+time being (as I afterwards learnt) almost tantamount to
+condemnation.&nbsp; As soon as the General had sentenced my
+predecessor, I was accosted as a self-convicted criminal.&nbsp;
+Fortunately he spoke French like a Frenchman; and, as it
+presently appeared, a few words of English.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;What country do you belong to?&rsquo; he asked, as if
+the question was but a matter of form, put for decency&rsquo;s
+sake&mdash;a mere prelude to committal.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;England, of course; you can see that by my
+passport.&rsquo;&nbsp; I was determined to fence him with his own
+weapons.&nbsp; Indeed, in those innocent days of my youth, I
+enjoyed a genuine British contempt for foreigners&mdash;in the
+lump&mdash;which, after all, is about as impartial a sentiment as
+its converse, that one&rsquo;s own country is always in the
+wrong.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Where did you get it?&rsquo; (with a face of
+stone).</p>
+<p><i>Prisoner</i> (<i>na&iuml;vely</i>): &lsquo;Where did I get
+it?&nbsp; I do not follow you.&rsquo;&nbsp; (Don&rsquo;t forget,
+please, that said prisoner&rsquo;s apparel was unvaleted, his
+hands unwashed, his linen unchanged, his hair unkempt, and his
+face unshaven).</p>
+<p><i>General</i> (stonily): &lsquo;&ldquo;Where did you get
+it?&rdquo; was my question.&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>Prisoner</i> (quietly): &lsquo;From Lord
+Palmerston.&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>General</i> (glancing at that Minister&rsquo;s signature):
+&lsquo;It says here, &ldquo;et son domestique&rdquo;&mdash;you
+have no domestique.&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>Prisoner</i> (calmly): &lsquo;Pardon me, I have a
+domestic.&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>General</i> (with severity), &lsquo;Where is he?&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>Prisoner</i>: &lsquo;At Dresden by this time, I
+hope.&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>General</i> (receiving journal from aide-de-camp, who
+points to a certain page): &lsquo;You state here you were caught
+by the Austrians in a pretended escape from the Viennese
+insurgents; and add, &ldquo;They evidently took me for a
+spy&rdquo; [returning journal to aide].&nbsp; What is your
+explanation of this?&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>Prisoner</i> (shrugging shoulders disdainfully): &lsquo;In
+the first place, the word &ldquo;pretended&rdquo; is not in my
+journal.&nbsp; In the second, although of course it does not
+follow, if one takes another person for a man of sagacity or a
+gentleman&mdash;it does not follow that he is either&mdash;still,
+when&mdash;&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>General</i> (with signs of impatience): &lsquo;I have here
+a <i>Passierschein</i>, found amongst your papers and signed by
+the rebels.&nbsp; They would not have given you this, had you not
+been on friendly terms with them.&nbsp; You will be detained
+until I have further particulars.&rsquo;</p>
+<p><i>Prisoner</i> (angrily): &lsquo;I will assist you, through
+Her Britannic Majesty&rsquo;s Consul, with whom I claim the right
+to communicate.&nbsp; I beg to inform you that I am neither a spy
+nor a socialist, but the son of an English peer&rsquo; (heaven
+help the relevancy!).&nbsp; &lsquo;An Englishman has yet to learn
+that Lord Palmerston&rsquo;s signature is to be set at naught and
+treated with contumacy.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The General beckoned to the inspector to put an end to the
+proceedings.&nbsp; But the aide, who had been studying the
+journal, again placed it in his chief&rsquo;s hands.&nbsp; A
+colloquy ensued, in which I overheard the name of Lord
+Ponsonby.&nbsp; The enemy seemed to waver, so I charged with a
+renewed request to see the English Consul.&nbsp; A pause; then
+some remarks in Russian from the aide; then the <i>General</i>
+(in suaver tones): &lsquo;The English Consul, I find, is absent
+on a month&rsquo;s leave.&nbsp; If what you state is true, you
+acted unadvisedly in not having your passport altered and
+<i>revis&eacute;</i> when you parted with your servant.&nbsp; How
+long do you wish to remain here?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Said I, &lsquo;Vous avez bien raison, Monsieur.&nbsp; Je suis
+&eacute;videmment dans mon tort.&nbsp; Ma visite &agrave;
+Varsovie &eacute;tait une aberration.&nbsp; As to my stay, je
+suis d&eacute;j&agrave; tout ce qu&rsquo;il y a de plus
+ennuy&eacute;.&nbsp; I have seen enough of Warsaw to last for the
+rest of my days.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Eventually my portmanteau and despatch-box were restored to
+me; and I took up my quarters in the filthiest inn (there was no
+better, I believe) that it was ever my misfortune to lodge
+at.&nbsp; It was ancient, dark, dirty, and dismal.&nbsp; My
+sitting-room (I had a cupboard besides to sleep in) had but one
+window, looking into a gloomy courtyard.&nbsp; The furniture
+consisted of two wooden chairs and a spavined horsehair
+sofa.&nbsp; The ceiling was low and lamp-blacked; the stained
+paper fell in strips from the sweating walls; fortunately there
+was no carpet; but if anything could have added to the
+occupier&rsquo;s depression it was the sight of his own distorted
+features in a shattered glass, which seemed to watch him like a
+detective and take notes of his movements&mdash;a real Russian
+mirror.</p>
+<p>But the resources of one-and-twenty are not easily daunted,
+even by the presence of the <i>cimex lectularius</i> or the
+<i>pulex irritans</i>.&nbsp; I inquired for a <i>laquais de
+place</i>,&mdash;some human being to consort with was the most
+pressing of immediate wants.&nbsp; As luck would have it, the
+very article was in the dreary courtyard, lurking spider-like for
+the innocent traveller just arrived.&nbsp; Elective affinity
+brought us at once to friendly intercourse.&nbsp; He was of the
+Hebrew race, as the larger half of the Warsaw population still
+are.&nbsp; He was a typical Jew (all Jews are typical), though
+all are not so thin as was Beninsky.&nbsp; His eyes were sunk in
+sockets deepened by the sharpness of his bird-of-prey beak; a
+single corkscrew ringlet dropped tearfully down each cheek; and
+his one front tooth seemed sometimes in his upper, sometimes in
+his lower jaw.&nbsp; His skull-cap and his gabardine might have
+been heirlooms from the Patriarch Jacob; and his poor hands
+seemed made for clawing.&nbsp; But there was a humble and
+contrite spirit in his sad eyes.&nbsp; The history of his race
+was written in them; but it was modern history that one read in
+their hopeless and appealing look.</p>
+<p>His cringing manner and his soft voice (we conversed in
+German) touched my heart.&nbsp; I have always had a liking for
+the Jews.&nbsp; Who shall reckon how much some of us owe
+them!&nbsp; They have always interested me as a peculiar
+people&mdash;admitting sometimes, as in poor Beninsky&rsquo;s
+case, of purifying, no doubt; yet, if occasionally zealous (and
+who is not?) of interested works&mdash;cent. per cent. works,
+often&mdash;yes, more often than we Christians&mdash;zealous of
+good works, of open-handed, large-hearted munificence, of charity
+in its democratic and noblest sense.&nbsp; Shame upon the nations
+which despise and persecute them for faults which they, the
+persecutors, have begotten!&nbsp; Shame on those who have
+extorted both their money and their teeth!&nbsp; I think if I
+were a Jew I should chuckle to see my shekels furnish all the
+wars in which Christians cut one another&rsquo;s Christian
+weasands.</p>
+<p>And who has not a tenderness for the &lsquo;beautiful and
+well-favoured&rsquo; Rachels, and the &lsquo;tender-eyed&rsquo;
+Leahs, and the tricksy little Zilpahs, and the Rebekahs, from the
+wife of Isaac of Gerar to the daughter of Isaac of York?&nbsp;
+Who would not love to sit with Jessica where moonlight sleeps,
+and watch the patines of bright gold reflected in her heavenly
+orbs?&nbsp; I once knew a Jessica, a Polish Jessica,
+who&mdash;but that was in Vienna, more than half a century
+ago.</p>
+<p>Beninsky&rsquo;s orbs brightened visibly when I bade him break
+his fast at my high tea.&nbsp; I ordered everything they had in
+the house I think,&mdash;a cold Pomeranian
+<i>G&auml;nsebrust</i>, a garlicky <i>Wurst</i>, and
+<i>ger&auml;ucherte Lachs</i>.&nbsp; I had a packet of my own
+Fortnum and Mason&rsquo;s Souchong; and when the stove gave out
+its glow, and the samovar its music, Beninsky&rsquo;s gratitude
+and his hunger passed the limits of restraint.&nbsp; Late into
+the night we smoked our meerschaums.</p>
+<p>When I spoke of the Russians, he got up nervously to see the
+door was shut, and whispered with bated breath.&nbsp; What a
+relief it was to him to meet a man to whom he could pour out his
+griefs, his double griefs, as Pole and Israelite.&nbsp; Before we
+parted I made him put the remains of the sausage (!) and the
+goose-breast under his petticoats.&nbsp; I bade him come to me in
+the morning and show me all that was worth seeing in
+Warsaw.&nbsp; When he left, with tears in his eyes, I was
+consoled to think that for one night at any rate he and his
+<i>G&auml;nsebrust</i> and sausage would rest peacefully in
+Abraham&rsquo;s bosom.&nbsp; What Abraham would say to the
+sausage I did not ask; nor perhaps did my poor Beninsky.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> remainder of the year &rsquo;49
+has left me nothing to tell.&nbsp; For me, it was the inane life
+of that draff of Society&mdash;the young man-about-town: the
+tailor&rsquo;s, the haberdasher&rsquo;s, the bootmaker&rsquo;s,
+and trinket-maker&rsquo;s, young man; the dancing and
+&lsquo;hell&rsquo;-frequenting young man; the young man of the
+&lsquo;Cider Cellars&rsquo; and Piccadilly saloons; the valiant
+dove-slayer, the park-lounger, the young lady&rsquo;s young
+man&mdash;who puts his hat into mourning, and turns up his
+trousers because&mdash;because the other young man does ditto,
+ditto.</p>
+<p>I had a share in the Guards&rsquo; omnibus box at Covent
+Garden, with the privilege attached of going behind the
+scenes.&nbsp; Ah! that was a real pleasure.&nbsp; To listen night
+after night to Grisi and Mario, Alboni and Lablache, Viardot and
+Ronconi, Persiani and Tamburini,&mdash;and Jenny Lind too, though
+she was at the other house.&nbsp; And what an orchestra was
+Costa&rsquo;s&mdash;with Sainton leader, and Lindley and old
+Dragonetti, who together but alone, accompanied the
+<i>recitative</i> with their harmonious chords on &rsquo;cello
+and double-bass.&nbsp; Is singing a lost art?&nbsp; Or is that
+but a <i>temporis acti</i> question?&nbsp; We who heard those now
+silent voices fancy there are none to match them nowadays.&nbsp;
+Certainly there are no dancers like Taglioni, and Cerito, and
+Fanny Elsler, and Carlotta Grisi.</p>
+<p>After the opera and the ball, one finished the night at
+Vauxhall or Ranelagh; then as gay, and exactly the same, as they
+were when Miss Becky Sharpe and fat Jos supped there only
+five-and-thirty years before.</p>
+<p>Except at the Opera, and the Philharmonic, and Exeter Hall,
+one rarely heard good music.&nbsp; Monsieur Jullien, that prince
+of musical mountebanks&mdash;the &lsquo;Prince of
+Waterloo,&rsquo; as John Ella called him, was the first to
+popularise classical music at his promenade concerts, by
+tentatively introducing a single movement of a symphony here and
+there in the programme of his quadrilles and waltzes and
+music-hall songs.</p>
+<p>Mr. Ella, too, furthered the movement with his Musical Union
+and quartett parties at Willis&rsquo;s Rooms, where Sainton and
+Cooper led alternately, and the incomparable Piatti and Hill made
+up the four.&nbsp; Here Ernst, Sivori, Vieuxtemps, and Bottesini,
+and Mesdames Schumann, Dulcken, Arabella Goddard, and all the
+famous virtuosi played their solos.</p>
+<p>Great was the stimulus thus given by Ella&rsquo;s energy and
+enthusiasm.&nbsp; As a proof of what he had to contend with, and
+what he triumphed over, Hall&eacute;&rsquo;s &lsquo;Life&rsquo;
+may be quoted, where it says: &lsquo;When Mr. Ella asked me [this
+was in 1848] what I wished to play, and heard that it was one of
+Beethoven&rsquo;s pianoforte sonatas, he exclaimed
+&ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; and endeavoured to demonstrate that
+they were not works to be played in public.&rsquo;&nbsp; What
+seven-league boots the world has stridden in within the memory of
+living men!</p>
+<p>John Ella himself led the second violins in Costa&rsquo;s
+band, and had begun life (so I have been told) as a
+pastry-cook.&nbsp; I knew both him and the wonderful little
+Frenchman &lsquo;at home.&rsquo;&nbsp; According to both, in
+their different ways, Beethoven and Mozart would have been lost
+to fame but for their heroic efforts to save them.</p>
+<p>I used occasionally to play with Ella at the house of a lady
+who gave musical parties.&nbsp; He was always attuned to the
+highest pitch,&mdash;most good-natured, but most excitable where
+music was to the fore.&nbsp; We were rehearsing a quintett, the
+pianoforte part of which was played by the young lady of the
+house&mdash;a very pretty girl, and not a bad musician, but
+nervous to the point of hysteria.&nbsp; Ella himself was in a
+hypercritical state; nothing would go smoothly; and the piano was
+always (according to him) the peccant instrument.&nbsp; Again and
+again he made us restart the movement.&nbsp; There were a good
+many friends of the family invited to this last rehearsal, which
+made it worse for the poor girl, who was obviously on the brink
+of a breakdown.&nbsp; Presently Ella again jumped off his chair,
+and shouted: &lsquo;Not E flat!&nbsp; There&rsquo;s no E flat
+there; E natural!&nbsp; E natural!&nbsp; I never in my life knew
+a young lady so prolific of flats as you.&rsquo;&nbsp; There was
+a pause, then a giggle, then an explosion; and then the poor
+girl, bursting into tears, rushed out of the room.</p>
+<p>It was at Ella&rsquo;s house that I first heard Joachim, then
+about sixteen, I suppose.&nbsp; He had not yet performed in
+London.&nbsp; All the musical celebrities were present to hear
+the youthful prodigy.&nbsp; Two quartetts were played, Ernst
+leading one and Joachim the other.&nbsp; After it was over,
+everyone was enraptured, but no one more so than Ernst, who
+unhesitatingly predicted the fame which the great artist has so
+eminently achieved.</p>
+<p>One more amusing little story belongs to my experiences of
+these days.&nbsp; Having two brothers and a brother-in-law in the
+Guards, I used to dine often at the Tower, or the Bank, or St.
+James&rsquo;s.&nbsp; At the Bank of England there is always at
+night an officer&rsquo;s guard.&nbsp; There is no mess, as the
+officer is alone.&nbsp; But the Bank provides dinner for two, in
+case the officer should invite a friend.&nbsp; On the occasion I
+speak of, my brother-in-law, Sir Archibald Macdonald, was on
+duty.&nbsp; The soup and fish were excellent, but we were young
+and hungry, and the usual leg of mutton was always a dish to be
+looked forward to.</p>
+<p>When its cover was removed by the waiter we looked in vain;
+there was plenty of gravy, but no mutton.&nbsp; Our surprise was
+even greater than our dismay, for the waiter swore &lsquo;So
+&rsquo;elp his gawd&rsquo; that he saw the cook put the leg on
+the dish, and that he himself put the cover on the leg.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;And what did you do with it then?&rsquo; questioned my
+host.&nbsp; &lsquo;Nothing, S&rsquo;Archibald.&nbsp; Brought it
+straight in &rsquo;ere.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Do you mean to tell
+me it was never out of your hands between this and the
+kitchen?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Never, but for the moment I put it
+down outside the door to change the plates.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;And was there nobody in the passage?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Not a soul, except the sentry.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+see,&rsquo; said my host, who was a quick-witted man.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Send the sergeant here.&rsquo;&nbsp; The sergeant
+came.&nbsp; The facts were related, and the order given to parade
+the entire guard, sentry included, in the passage.</p>
+<p>The sentry was interrogated first.&nbsp; &lsquo;No, he had not
+seen nobody in the passage.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No one had
+touched the dish?&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Nobody as ever he
+seed.&rsquo;&nbsp; Then came the orders: &lsquo;Attention.&nbsp;
+Ground arms.&nbsp; Take off your bear-skins.&rsquo;&nbsp; And the
+truth&mdash;<i>i.e.</i>, the missing leg&mdash;was at once
+revealed; the sentry had popped it into his shako.&nbsp; For long
+after that day, when the guard either for the Tower or Bank
+marched through the streets, the little blackguard boys used to
+run beside it and cry, &lsquo;Who stole the leg o&rsquo;
+mutton?&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Probably</span> the most important
+historical event of the year &rsquo;49 was the discovery of gold
+in California, or rather, the great Western Exodus in pursuit of
+it.&nbsp; A restless desire possessed me to see something of
+America, especially of the Far West.&nbsp; I had an hereditary
+love of sport, and had read and heard wonderful tales of bison,
+and grisly bears, and wapitis.&nbsp; No books had so fascinated
+me, when a boy, as the &lsquo;Deer-slayer,&rsquo; the
+&lsquo;Pathfinder,&rsquo; and the beloved &lsquo;Last of the
+Mohicans.&rsquo;&nbsp; Here then was a new field for
+adventure.&nbsp; I would go to California, and hunt my way across
+the continent.&nbsp; Ruxton&rsquo;s &lsquo;Life in the Far
+West&rsquo; inspired a belief in self-reliance and independence
+only rivalled by Robinson Crusoe.&nbsp; If I could not find a
+companion, I would go alone.&nbsp; Little did I dream of the
+fortune which was in store for me, or how nearly I missed
+carrying out the scheme so wildly contemplated, or indeed, any
+scheme at all.</p>
+<p>The only friend I could meet with both willing and able to
+join me was the last Lord Durham.&nbsp; He could not undertake to
+go to California; but he had been to New York during his
+father&rsquo;s reign in Canada, and liked the idea of revisiting
+the States.&nbsp; He proposed that we should spend the winter in
+the West Indies, and after some buffalo-shooting on the plains,
+return to England in the autumn.</p>
+<p>The notion of the West Indies gave rise to an off-shoot.&nbsp;
+Both Durham and I were members of the old Garrick, then but a
+small club in Covent Garden.&nbsp; Amongst our mutual friends was
+Andrew Arcedeckne&mdash;pronounced Archdeacon&mdash;a character
+to whom attaches a peculiar literary interest, of which
+anon.&nbsp; Arcedeckne&mdash;Archy, as he was commonly
+called&mdash;was about a couple of years older than we
+were.&nbsp; He was the owner of Glevering Hall, Suffolk, and
+nephew of Lord Huntingfield.&nbsp; These particulars, as well as
+those of his person, are note-worthy, as it will soon appear.</p>
+<p>Archy&mdash;&lsquo;Merry Andrew,&rsquo; as I used to call
+him,&mdash;owned one of the finest estates in
+Jamaica&mdash;Golden Grove.&nbsp; When he heard of our intended
+trip, he at once volunteered to go with us.&nbsp; He had never
+seen Golden Grove, but had often wished to visit it.&nbsp; Thus
+it came to pass that we three secured our cabins in one of the
+West India mailers, and left England in December 1849.</p>
+<p>To return to our little Suffolk squire.&nbsp; The description
+of his figure, as before said, is all-important, though the world
+is familiar with it, as drawn by the pencil of a master
+caricaturist.&nbsp; Arcedeckne was about five feet three inches,
+round as a cask, with a small singularly round face and head,
+closely cropped hair, and large soft eyes,&mdash;in a word, so
+like a seal, that he was as often called &lsquo;Phoca&rsquo; as
+Archy.</p>
+<p>Do you recognise the portrait?&nbsp; Do you need the help of
+&lsquo;Glevering Hall&rsquo; (how curious the suggestion!).&nbsp;
+And would you not like to hear him talk?&nbsp; Here is a specimen
+in his best manner.&nbsp; Surely it must have been taken down by
+a shorthand writer, or a phonograph:</p>
+<p><i>Mr. Harry Foker loquitur</i>: &lsquo;He inquired for Rincer
+and the cold in his nose, told Mrs. Rincer a riddle, asked Miss
+Rincer when she would be prepared to marry him, and paid his
+compliments to Miss Brett, another young lady in the bar, all in
+a minute of time, and with a liveliness and facetiousness which
+set all these young ladies in a giggle.&nbsp; &ldquo;Have a drop,
+Pen: it&rsquo;s recommended by the faculty, &amp;c.&nbsp; Give
+the young one a glass, R., and score it up to yours
+truly.&rdquo;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I fancy the great man who recorded these words was more afraid
+of Mr. Harry <i>Phoca</i> than of any other man in the Garrick
+Club&mdash;possibly for the reason that honest Harry was not the
+least bit afraid of him.&nbsp; The shy, the proud, the sensitive
+satirist would steal quietly into the room, avoiding notice as
+though he wished himself invisible.&nbsp; Phoca would be warming
+his back at the fire, and calling for a glass of
+&lsquo;Foker&rsquo;s own.&rsquo;&nbsp; Seeing the giant enter, he
+would advance a step or two, with a couple of extended fingers,
+and exclaim, quite affably, &lsquo;Ha! Mr. Thackry! litary
+cove!&nbsp; Glad to see you, sir.&nbsp; How&rsquo;s Major
+Dobbings?&rsquo; and likely enough would turn to the waiter, and
+bid him, &lsquo;Give this gent a glass of the same, and score it
+up to yours truly!&rsquo;&nbsp; We have his biographer&rsquo;s
+word for it, that he would have winked at the Duke of Wellington,
+with just as little scruple.</p>
+<p>Yes, Andrew Arcedeckne was the original of Harry Foker; and,
+from the cut of his clothes to his family connection, and to the
+comicality, the simplicity, the sweetness of temper (though
+hardly doing justice to the loveableness of the little man), the
+famous caricature fits him to a T.</p>
+<p>The night before we left London we had a convivial dinner at
+the Garrick&mdash;we three travellers, with Albert Smith, his
+brother, and John Leech.&nbsp; It was a merry party, to which all
+contributed good fellowship and innocent jokes.&nbsp; The latest
+arrival at the Zoo was the first hippopotamus that had reached
+England,&mdash;a present from the Khedive.&nbsp; Someone wondered
+how it had been caught.&nbsp; I suggested a trout-fly; which so
+tickled John Leech&rsquo;s fancy that he promised to draw it for
+next week&rsquo;s &lsquo;Punch.&rsquo;&nbsp; Albert Smith went
+with us to Southampton to see us off.</p>
+<p>On our way to Jamaica we stopped a night at Barbadoes to
+coal.&nbsp; Here I had the honour of making the acquaintance of
+the renowned Caroline Lee!&mdash;Miss Car&rsquo;line, as the
+negroes called her.&nbsp; She was so pleased at the assurance
+that her friend Mr. Peter Simple had spread her fame all the
+world over, that she made us a bowl of the most delicious iced
+sangaree; and speedily got up a &lsquo;dignity ball&rsquo; for
+our entertainment.&nbsp; She was rather too much of an armful to
+dance with herself, but there was no lack of dark beauties, (not
+a white woman or white man except ourselves in the room.)&nbsp;
+We danced pretty nearly from daylight to daylight.&nbsp; The
+blending of rigid propriety, of the severest
+&lsquo;dignity,&rsquo; with the sudden guffaw and outburst of
+wildest spirits and comic humour, is beyond description, and is
+only to be met with amongst these ebullient children of the
+sun.</p>
+<p>On our arrival at Golden Grove, there was a great turn-out of
+the natives to welcome their young lord and
+&lsquo;massa.&rsquo;&nbsp; Archy was touched and amused by their
+frantic loyalty.&nbsp; But their mode of exhibiting it was not so
+entirely to his taste.&nbsp; Not only the young, but the old
+women wanted to hug him.&nbsp; &lsquo;Eigh!&nbsp; Dat you,
+Massa?&nbsp; Dat you, sar? Me no believe him.&nbsp; Out o&rsquo;
+de way, you trash!&nbsp; Eigh! me too much pleased like
+devil.&rsquo;&nbsp; The one constant and spontaneous ejaculation
+was, &lsquo;Yah! Massa too muchy handsome!&nbsp;
+Garamighty!&nbsp; Buckra berry fat!&rsquo;&nbsp; The latter
+attribute was the source of genuine admiration; but the object of
+it hardly appreciated its recognition, and waved off his subjects
+with a mixture of impatience and alarm.</p>
+<p>We had scarcely been a week at Golden Grove, when my two
+companions and Durham&rsquo;s servant were down with yellow
+fever.&nbsp; Being &lsquo;salted,&rsquo; perhaps, I escaped
+scot-free, so helped Archy&rsquo;s valet and Mr. Forbes, his
+factor, to nurse and to carry out professional orders.&nbsp; As
+we were thirty miles from Kingston the doctor could only come
+every other day.&nbsp; The responsibility, therefore, of
+attending three patients smitten with so deadly a disease was no
+light matter.&nbsp; The factor seemed to think discretion the
+better part of valour, and that Jamaica rum was the best specific
+for keeping his up.&nbsp; All physicians were <i>Sangrados</i> in
+those days, and when the Kingston doctor decided upon bleeding,
+the hysterical state of the darky girls (we had no men in the
+bungalow except Durham&rsquo;s and Archy&rsquo;s servants)
+rendered them worse than useless.&nbsp; It fell to me, therefore,
+to hold the basin while Archy&rsquo;s man was attending to his
+master.</p>
+<p>Durham, who had nerves of steel, bore his lot with the grim
+stoicism which marked his character.&nbsp; But at one time the
+doctor considered his state so serious that he thought his
+lordship&rsquo;s family should be informed of it.&nbsp;
+Accordingly I wrote to the last Lord Grey, his uncle and
+guardian, stating that there was little hope of his
+recovery.&nbsp; Poor Phoca was at once tragic and comic.&nbsp;
+His medicine had to be administered every, two hours.&nbsp; Each
+time, he begged and prayed in lacrymose tones to be let
+off.&nbsp; It was doing him no good.&nbsp; He might as well be
+allowed to die in peace.&nbsp; If we would only spare him the
+beastliness this once, on his honour he would take it next time
+&lsquo;like a man.&rsquo;&nbsp; We were inexorable, of course,
+and treated him exactly as one treats a child.</p>
+<p>At last the crisis was over.&nbsp; Wonderful to relate, all
+three began to recover.&nbsp; During their convalescence, I
+amused myself by shooting alligators in the mangrove swamps at
+Holland Bay, which was within half an hour&rsquo;s ride of the
+bungalow.&nbsp; It was curious sport.&nbsp; The great saurians
+would lie motionless in the pools amidst the snake-like tangle of
+mangrove roots.&nbsp; They would float with just their eyes and
+noses out of water, but so still that, without a glass, (which I
+had not,) it was difficult to distinguish their heads from the
+countless roots and rotten logs around them.&nbsp; If one fired
+by mistake, the sport was spoiled for an hour to come.</p>
+<p>I used to sit watching patiently for one of them to show
+itself, or for something to disturb the glassy surface of the
+dark waters.&nbsp; Overhead the foliage was so dense that the
+heat was not oppressive.&nbsp; All Nature seemed asleep.&nbsp;
+The deathlike stillness was rarely broken by the faintest
+sound,&mdash;though unseen life, amidst the heat and moisture,
+was teeming everywhere; life feeding upon life.&nbsp; For what
+purpose?&nbsp; To what end?&nbsp; Is this a primary law of
+Nature?&nbsp; Does cannibalism prevail in Mars?&nbsp; Sometimes a
+mocking-bird would pipe its weird notes, deepening silence by the
+contrast.&nbsp; But besides pestilent mosquitos, the only living
+things in sight were humming-birds of every hue, some no bigger
+than a butterfly, fluttering over the blossoms of the orchids, or
+darting from flower to flower like flashes of prismatic rays.</p>
+<p>I killed several alligators; but one day, while stalking what
+seemed to be an unusual monster, narrowly escaped an
+accident.&nbsp; Under the excitement, my eye was so intently
+fixed upon the object, that I rather felt than saw my way.&nbsp;
+Presently over I went, just managed to save my rifle, and, to my
+amazement, found I had set my foot on a sleeping reptile.&nbsp;
+Fortunately the brute was as much astonished as I was, and
+plunged with a splash into the adjacent pool.</p>
+<p>A Cambridge friend, Mr. Walter Shirley, owned an estate at
+Trelawny, on the other side of Jamaica; while the invalids were
+recovering, I paid him a visit; and was initiated into the
+mysteries of cane-growing and sugar-making.&nbsp; As the great
+split between the Northern and Southern States on the question of
+slavery was pending, the life, condition, and treatment of the
+negro was of the greatest interest.&nbsp; Mr. Shirley was a
+gentleman of exceptional ability, and full of valuable
+information on these subjects.&nbsp; He passed me on to other
+plantations; and I made the complete round of the island before
+returning to my comrades at Golden Grove.&nbsp; A few weeks
+afterwards I stayed with a Spanish gentleman, the Marquis
+d&rsquo;Iznaga, who owned six large sugar plantations in Cuba;
+and rode with his son from Casilda to Cienfuegos, from which port
+I got a steamer to the Havana.&nbsp; The ride afforded abundant
+opportunities of comparing the slave with the free negro.&nbsp;
+But, as I have written on the subject elsewhere, I will pass to
+matters more entertaining.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">On</span> my arrival at the Havana I found
+that Durham, who was still an invalid, had taken up his quarters
+at Mr. Crauford&rsquo;s, the Consul-General.&nbsp; Phoca, who was
+nearly well again, was at the hotel, the only one in the
+town.&nbsp; And who should I meet there but my old Cambridge
+ally, Fred, the last Lord Calthorpe.&nbsp; This event was a
+fruitful one,&mdash;it determined the plans of both of us for a
+year or more to come.</p>
+<p>Fred&mdash;as I shall henceforth call him&mdash;had just
+returned from a hunting expedition in Texas, with another
+sportsman whom he had accidentally met there.&nbsp; This
+gentleman ultimately became of even more importance to me than my
+old friend.&nbsp; I purposely abstain from giving either his name
+or his profession, for reasons which will become obvious enough
+by-and-by; the outward man may be described.&nbsp; He stood well
+over six feet in his socks; his frame and limbs were those of a
+gladiator; he could crush a horseshoe in one hand; he had a small
+head with a bull-neck, purely Grecian features, thick curly hair
+with crisp beard and silky moustache.&nbsp; He so closely
+resembled a marble Hercules that (as he must have a name) we will
+call him Samson.</p>
+<p>Before Fred stumbled upon him, he had spent a winter camping
+out in the snows of Canada, bear and elk shooting.&nbsp; He was
+six years or so older than either of us&mdash;<i>i.e.</i> about
+eight-and-twenty.</p>
+<p>As to Fred Calthorpe, it would be difficult to find a more
+&lsquo;manly&rsquo; man.&nbsp; He was unacquainted with
+fear.&nbsp; Yet his courage, though sometimes reckless, was by no
+means of the brute kind.&nbsp; He did not run risks unless he
+thought the gain would compensate them; and no one was more
+capable of weighing consequences than he.&nbsp; His temper was
+admirable, his spirits excellent; and for any enterprise where
+danger and hardship were to be encountered few men could have
+been better qualified.&nbsp; By the end of a week these two had
+agreed to accompany me across the Rocky Mountains.</p>
+<p>Before leaving the Havana, I witnessed an event which, though
+disgusting in itself, gives rise to serious reflections.&nbsp;
+Every thoughtful reader is conversant enough with them; if,
+therefore, he should find them out of place or trite, apology is
+needless, as he will pass them by without the asking.</p>
+<p>The circumstance referred to is a public execution.&nbsp; Mr.
+Sydney Smith, the vice-consul, informed me that a criminal was to
+be garrotted on the following morning; and asked me whether I
+cared to look over the prison and see the man in his cell that
+afternoon.&nbsp; We went together.&nbsp; The poor wretch bore the
+stamp of innate brutality.&nbsp; His crime was the most revolting
+that a human being is capable of&mdash;the violation and murder
+of a mere child.&nbsp; When we were first admitted he was sullen,
+merely glaring at us; but, hearing the warder describe his crime,
+he became furiously abusive, and worked himself into such a
+passion that, had he not been chained to the wall, he would
+certainly have attacked us.</p>
+<p>At half-past six next morning I went with Mr. Smith to the
+Campo del Marte, the principal square.&nbsp; The crowd had
+already assembled, and the tops of the houses were thronged with
+spectators.&nbsp; The women, dressed as if for a bull-fight or a
+ball, occupied the front seats.&nbsp; By squeezing and pushing we
+contrived to get within eight or nine yards of the machine, where
+I had not long been before the procession was seen moving up the
+Passeo.&nbsp; A few mounted troops were in front to clear the
+road; behind them came the Host, with a number of priests and the
+prisoner on foot, dressed in white; a large guard brought up the
+rear.&nbsp; The soldiers formed an open square.&nbsp; The
+executioner, the culprit, and one priest ascended the steps of
+the platform.</p>
+<p>The garrotte is a short stout post, at the top of which is an
+iron crook, just wide enough to admit the neck of a man seated in
+a chair beneath it.&nbsp; Through the post, parallel with the
+crook, is the loop of a rope, whose ends are fastened to a bar
+held by the executioner.&nbsp; The loop, being round the throat
+of the victim, is so powerfully tightened from behind by half a
+turn of the bar, that an extra twist would sever a man&rsquo;s
+head from his body.</p>
+<p>The murderer showed no signs of fear; he quietly seated
+himself, but got up again to adjust the chair and make himself
+comfortable!&nbsp; The executioner then arranged the rope round
+his neck, tied his legs and his arms, and retired behind the
+post.&nbsp; At a word or a look from the priest the wrench was
+turned.&nbsp; For a single instant the limbs of the victim were
+convulsed, and all was over.</p>
+<p>No exclamation, no whisper of horror escaped from the lookers
+on.&nbsp; Such a scene was too familiar to excite any feeling but
+morbid curiosity; and, had the execution taken place at the usual
+spot instead of in the town, few would have given themselves the
+trouble to attend it.</p>
+<p>It is impossible to see or even to think of what is here
+described without gravely meditating on its suggestions.&nbsp; Is
+capital punishment justifiable?&nbsp; This is the question I
+purpose to consider in the following chapter.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">All</span> punishments or penal remedies
+for crime, except capital punishment, may be considered from two
+points of view: First, as they regard Society; secondly, as they
+regard the offender.</p>
+<p>Where capital punishment is resorted to, the sole end in view
+is the protection of Society.&nbsp; The malefactor being put to
+death, there can be no thought of his amendment.&nbsp; And so far
+as this particular criminal is concerned, Society is henceforth
+in safety.</p>
+<p>But (looking to the individual), as equal security could be
+obtained by his imprisonment for life, the extreme measure of
+putting him to death needs justification.&nbsp; This is found in
+the assumption that death being the severest of all punishments
+now permissible, no other penalty is so efficacious in preventing
+the crime or crimes for which it is inflicted.&nbsp; Is the
+assumption borne out by facts, or by inference?</p>
+<p>For facts we naturally turn to statistics.&nbsp; Switzerland
+abolished capital punishment in 1874; but cases of premeditated
+murder having largely increased during the next five years, it
+was restored by Federal legislation in 1879.&nbsp; Still there is
+nothing conclusive to be inferred from this fact.&nbsp; We must
+seek for guidance elsewhere.</p>
+<p>Reverting to the above assumption, we must ask: First, Is the
+death punishment the severest of all evils, and to what extent
+does the fear of it act as a preventive?&nbsp; Secondly, Is it
+true that no other punishment would serve as powerfully in
+preventing murder by intimidation?</p>
+<p>Is punishment by death the most dreaded of all evils?&nbsp;
+&lsquo;This assertion,&rsquo; says Bentham, &lsquo;is true with
+respect to the majority of mankind; it is not true with respect
+to the greatest criminals.&rsquo;&nbsp; It is pretty certain that
+a malefactor steeped in crime, living in extreme want, misery and
+apprehension, must, if he reflects at all, contemplate a violent
+end as an imminent possibility.&nbsp; He has no better future
+before him, and may easily come to look upon death with brutal
+insensibility and defiance.&nbsp; The indifference exhibited by
+the garrotted man getting up to adjust his chair is probably
+common amongst criminals of his type.</p>
+<p>Again, take such a crime as that of the Cuban&rsquo;s: the
+passion which leads to it is the fiercest and most ungovernable
+which man is subject to.&nbsp; Sexual jealousy also is one of the
+most frequent causes of murder.&nbsp; So violent is this passion
+that the victim of it is often quite prepared to sacrifice life
+rather than forego indulgence, or allow another to supplant him;
+both men and women will gloat over the murder of a rival, and
+gladly accept death as its penalty, rather than survive the
+possession of the desired object by another.</p>
+<p>Further, in addition to those who yield to fits of passion,
+there is a class whose criminal promptings are hereditary: a
+large number of unfortunates of whom it may almost be said that
+they were destined to commit crimes.&nbsp; &lsquo;It is unhappily
+a fact,&rsquo; says Mr. Francis Galton (&lsquo;Inquiries into
+Human Faculty&rsquo;), &lsquo;that fairly distinct types of
+criminals breeding true to their kind have become
+established.&rsquo;&nbsp; And he gives extraordinary examples,
+which fully bear out his affirmation.&nbsp; We may safely say
+that, in a very large number of cases, the worst crimes are
+perpetrated by beings for whom the death penalty has no
+preventive terrors.</p>
+<p>But it is otherwise with the majority.&nbsp; Death itself,
+apart from punitive aspects, is a greater evil to those for whom
+life has greater attractions.&nbsp; Besides this, the permanent
+disgrace of capital punishment, the lasting injury to the
+criminal&rsquo;s family and to all who are dear to him, must be
+far more cogent incentives to self-control than the mere fear of
+ceasing to live.</p>
+<p>With the criminal and most degraded class&mdash;with those who
+are actuated by violent passions and hereditary taints, the class
+by which most murders are committed&mdash;the death punishment
+would seem to be useless as an intimidation or an example.</p>
+<p>With the majority it is more than probable that it exercises a
+strong and beneficial influence.&nbsp; As no mere social
+distinction can eradicate innate instincts, there must be a large
+proportion of the majority, the better-to-do, who are both
+occasionally and habitually subject to criminal propensities, and
+who shall say how many of these are restrained from the worst of
+crimes by fear of capital punishment and its consequences?</p>
+<p>On these grounds, if they be not fallacious, the retention of
+capital punishment may be justified.</p>
+<p>Secondly.&nbsp; Is the assumption tenable that no other
+penalty makes so strong an impression or is so pre-eminently
+exemplary?&nbsp; Bentham thus answers the question: &lsquo;It
+appears to me that the contemplation of perpetual imprisonment,
+accompanied with hard labour and occasional solitary confinement,
+would produce a deeper impression on the minds of persons in whom
+it is more eminently desirable that that impression should be
+produced than even death itself. . . . All that renders death
+less formidable to them renders laborious restraint
+proportionably more irksome.&rsquo;&nbsp; There is doubtless a
+certain measure of truth in these remarks.&nbsp; But Bentham is
+here speaking of the degraded class; and is it likely that such
+would reflect seriously upon what they never see and only know by
+hearsay?&nbsp; Think how feeble are their powers of imagination
+and reflection, how little they would be impressed by such
+additional seventies as &lsquo;occasional solitary
+confinement,&rsquo; the occurrence and the effects of which would
+be known to no one outside the jail.</p>
+<p>As to the &lsquo;majority,&rsquo; the higher classes, the fact
+that men are often imprisoned for offences&mdash;political and
+others&mdash;which they are proud to suffer for, would always
+attenuate the ignominy attached to
+&lsquo;imprisonment.&rsquo;&nbsp; And were this the only penalty
+for all crimes, for first-class misdemeanants and for the most
+atrocious of criminals alike, the distinction would not be very
+finely drawn by the interested; at the most, the severest
+treatment as an alternative to capital punishment would always
+savour of extenuating circumstances.</p>
+<p>There remain two other points of view from which the question
+has to be considered: one is what may be called the Vindictive,
+the other, directly opposed to it, the Sentimental
+argument.&nbsp; The first may be dismissed with a word or
+two.&nbsp; In civilised countries torture is for ever abrogated;
+and with it, let us hope, the idea of judicial vengeance.</p>
+<p>The <i>lex talionis</i>&mdash;the Levitic law&mdash;&lsquo;Eye
+for eye, tooth for tooth,&rsquo; is befitting only for
+savages.&nbsp; Unfortunately the Christian religion still
+promulgates and passionately clings to the belief in Hell as a
+place or state of everlasting torment&mdash;that is to say, of
+eternal torture inflicted for no ultimate end save that of
+implacable vengeance.&nbsp; Of all the miserable superstitions
+ever hatched by the brain of man this, as indicative of its
+barbarous origin, is the most degrading.&nbsp; As an ordinance
+ascribed to a Being worshipped as just and beneficent, it is
+blasphemous.</p>
+<p>The Sentimental argument, like all arguments based upon
+feeling rather than reason, though not without merit, is fraught
+with mischief which far outweighs it.&nbsp; There are always a
+number of people in the world who refer to their feelings as the
+highest human tribunal.&nbsp; When the reasoning faculty is not
+very strong, the process of ratiocination irksome, and the issue
+perhaps unacceptable, this course affords a convenient solution
+to many a complicated problem.&nbsp; It commends itself,
+moreover, to those who adopt it, by the sense of chivalry which
+it involves.&nbsp; There is something generous and noble, albeit
+quixotic, in siding with the weak, even if they be in the
+wrong.&nbsp; There is something charitable in the judgment,
+&lsquo;Oh! poor creature, think of his adverse circumstances, his
+ignorance, his temptation.&nbsp; Let us be merciful and
+forgiving.&rsquo;&nbsp; In practice, however, this often leads
+astray.&nbsp; Thus in most cases, even where premeditated murder
+is proved to the hilt, the sympathy of the sentimentalist is
+invariably with the murderer, to the complete oblivion of the
+victim&rsquo;s family.</p>
+<p>Bentham, speaking of the humanity plea, thus words its
+argument: &lsquo;Attend not to the sophistries of reason, which
+often deceive, but be governed by your hearts, which will always
+lead you right.&nbsp; I reject without hesitation the punishment
+you propose: it violates natural feelings, it harrows up the
+susceptible mind, it is tyrannical and cruel.&rsquo;&nbsp; Such
+is the language of your sentimental orators.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But abolish any one penal law merely because it is
+repugnant to the feelings of a humane heart, and, if consistent,
+you abolish the whole penal code.&nbsp; There is not one of its
+provisions that does not, in a more or less painful degree, wound
+the sensibility.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>As this writer elsewhere observes: &lsquo;It is only a virtue
+when justice has done its work, &amp;c.&nbsp; Before this, to
+forgive injuries is to invite their perpetration&mdash;is to be,
+not the friend, but the enemy of society.&nbsp; What could
+wickedness desire more than an arrangement by which offences
+should be always followed by pardon?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Sentiment is the <i>ultima ratio feminarum</i>, and of men
+whose natures are of the epicene gender.&nbsp; It is a luxury we
+must forego in the face of the stern duties which evil compels us
+to encounter.</p>
+<p>There is only one other argument against capital punishment
+that is worth considering.</p>
+<p>The objection so strenuously pleaded by Dickens in his letters
+to the &lsquo;Times&rsquo;&mdash;viz. the brutalising effects
+upon the degraded crowds which witnessed public
+executions&mdash;is no longer apposite.&nbsp; But it may still be
+urged with no little force that the extreme severity of the
+sentence induces all concerned in the conviction of the accused
+to shirk the responsibility.&nbsp; Informers, prosecutors,
+witnesses, judges, and jurymen are, as a rule, liable to
+reluctance as to the performance of their respective parts in the
+melancholy drama.&rsquo;&nbsp; The consequence is that &lsquo;the
+benefit of the doubt,&rsquo; while salving the consciences of
+these servants of the law, not unfrequently turns a real criminal
+loose upon society; whereas, had any other penalty than death
+been feasible, the same person would have been found guilty.</p>
+<p>Much might be said on either side, but on the whole it would
+seem wisest to leave things&mdash;in this country&mdash;as they
+are; and, for one, I am inclined to the belief that,</p>
+<blockquote><p>Mercy murders, pardoning those that kill.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> were nearly six weeks in the
+Havana, being detained by Lord Durham&rsquo;s illness.&nbsp; I
+provided myself with a capital Spanish master, and made the most
+of him.&nbsp; This, as it turned out, proved very useful to me in
+the course of my future travels.&nbsp; About the middle of March
+we left for Charlestown in the steamer <i>Isabel</i>, and thence
+on to New York.&nbsp; On the passage to Charlestown, we were
+amused one evening by the tricks of a conjuror.&nbsp; I had seen
+the man and his wife perform at the Egyptian Hall,
+Piccadilly.&nbsp; She was called the &lsquo;Mysterious
+Lady.&rsquo;&nbsp; The papers were full of speculations as to the
+nature of the mystery.&nbsp; It was the town talk and excitement
+of the season.</p>
+<p>This was the trick.&nbsp; The lady sat in the corner of a
+large room, facing the wall, with her eyes bandaged.&nbsp; The
+company were seated as far as possible from her.&nbsp; Anyone was
+invited to write a few words on a slip of paper, and hand it to
+the man, who walked amongst the spectators.&nbsp; He would simply
+say to the woman &lsquo;What has the gentleman (or lady) written
+upon this paper?&rsquo;&nbsp; Without hesitation she would reply
+correctly.&nbsp; The man was always the medium.&nbsp; One person
+requested her, through the man, to read the number on his watch,
+the figures being, as they always are, very minute.&nbsp; The man
+repeated the question: &lsquo;What is the number on this
+watch?&rsquo;&nbsp; The woman, without hesitation, gave it
+correctly.&nbsp; A friend at my side, a young Guardsman, took a
+cameo ring from his finger, and asked for a description of the
+figures in relief.&nbsp; There was a pause.&nbsp; The woman was
+evidently perplexed.&nbsp; She confessed at last that she was
+unable to answer.&nbsp; The spectators murmured.&nbsp; My friend
+began to laugh.&nbsp; The conjuror&rsquo;s bread was at stake,
+but he was equal to the occasion.&nbsp; He at once explained to
+the company that the cameo represented &lsquo;Leeder and the Swan
+in a hambigious position, which the lady didn&rsquo;t profess to
+know nothing about.&rsquo;&nbsp; This apology, needless to say,
+completely re-established the lady&rsquo;s character.</p>
+<p>Well, recognising my friend of the Egyptian Hall, I reminded
+him of the incident.&nbsp; He remembered it perfectly; and we
+fell to chatting about the wonderful success of the
+&lsquo;mystery,&rsquo; and about his and the lady&rsquo;s
+professional career.&nbsp; He had begun life when a boy as a
+street acrobat, had become a street conjuror, had married the
+&lsquo;mysterious lady&rsquo; out of the &lsquo;saw-dust,&rsquo;
+as he expressed it&mdash;meaning out of a travelling
+circus.&nbsp; After that, &lsquo;things had gone
+&rsquo;ard&rsquo; with them.&nbsp; They had exhausted their
+resources in every sense.&nbsp; One night, lying awake, and
+straining their brains to devise some means of subsistence, his
+wife suddenly exclaimed, &lsquo;How would it be if we were to try
+so and so?&rsquo; explaining the trick just described.&nbsp; His
+answer was: &lsquo;Oh! that&rsquo;s too silly.&nbsp; They&rsquo;d
+see through it directly.&rsquo;&nbsp; This was all I could get
+out of him: this, and the fact that the trick, first and last,
+had made them fairly comfortable for the rest of their days.</p>
+<p>Now mark what follows, for it is the gist and moral of my
+little story about this conjuror, and about two other miracle
+workers whom I have to speak of presently.</p>
+<p>Once upon a time, I was discussing with an acquaintance the
+not unfamiliar question of Immortality.&nbsp; I professed
+Agnosticism&mdash;strongly impregnated with incredulity.&nbsp; My
+friend had no misgivings, no doubts on the subject
+whatever.&nbsp; Absolute certainty is the prerogative of the
+orthodox.&nbsp; He had taken University honours, and was a man of
+high position at the Bar.&nbsp; I was curious to learn upon what
+grounds such an one based his belief.&nbsp; His answer was:
+&lsquo;Upon the phenomena of electro-biology, and the psychic
+phenomena of mesmerism.&rsquo;&nbsp; His &lsquo;first convictions
+were established by the manifestations of the soul as displayed
+through a woman called &ldquo;The Mysterious Lady,&rdquo; who,
+&amp;c., &amp;c.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>When we have done with our thaumaturgist on board the
+<i>Isabel</i>, I will give another instance, precisely similar to
+this, of the simple origin of religious beliefs.</p>
+<p>The steamer was pretty full; and the conjuror begged me to
+obtain the patronage of my noble friend and the rest of our party
+for an entertainment he proposed to give that evening.&nbsp; This
+was easily secured, and a goodly sum was raised by dollar
+tickets.&nbsp; The sleight-of-hand was excellent.&nbsp; But the
+special performance of the evening deserves description in
+full.&nbsp; It was that of a whist-playing dog.&nbsp; Three
+passengers&mdash;one of us taking a hand&mdash;played as in dummy
+whist, dummy&rsquo;s hand being spread in a long row upon the
+deck of the saloon cabin.&nbsp; The conjuror, as did the other
+passengers, walked about behind the players, and saw all the
+players&rsquo; hands, but not a word was spoken.&nbsp; The dog
+played dummy&rsquo;s hand.&nbsp; When it came to his turn he
+trotted backwards and forwards, smelling each card that had been
+dealt to him.&nbsp; He sometimes hesitated, then comically
+shaking his head, would leave it to smell another.&nbsp; The
+conjuror stood behind the dog&rsquo;s partner, and never went
+near the animal.&nbsp; There was no table&mdash;the cards were
+thrown on the deck.&nbsp; They were dealt by the players; the
+conjuror never touched them.&nbsp; When the dog&rsquo;s mind was
+made up, he took his card in his mouth and laid it on the
+others.&nbsp; His play was infallible.&nbsp; He and his partner
+won the rubber with ease.</p>
+<p>Now, to those ignorant of the solution, this must, I think,
+seem inexplicable.&nbsp; How was collusion managed between the
+animal and its master?&nbsp; One of the conditions insisted upon
+by the master himself was silence.&nbsp; He certainly never broke
+it.&nbsp; I bought the trick&mdash;must I confess it? for twenty
+dollars.&nbsp; How transparent most things are when&mdash;seen
+through!&nbsp; When the dog smelt at the right card, the
+conjuror, who saw all four hands, and had his own in his pocket,
+clicked his thumb-nail against a finger-nail.&nbsp; The dog alone
+could hear it, and played the card accordingly.</p>
+<p>The other story: A few years after my return to England, a
+great friend called upon me, and, in an excited state, described
+a <i>s&eacute;ance</i> he had had with a woman who possessed the
+power of &lsquo;invoking&rsquo; spirits.&nbsp; These spirits had
+correctly replied to questions, the answers to which were only
+known to himself.&nbsp; The woman was an American.&nbsp; I am
+sorry to say I have forgotten her name, but I think she was the
+first of her tribe to visit this country.&nbsp; As in the case
+spoken of, my friend was much affected by the results of the
+<i>s&eacute;ance</i>.&nbsp; He was a well-educated and
+intelligent man.&nbsp; Born to wealth, he had led a somewhat
+wildish life in his youth.&nbsp; Henceforth he became more
+serious, and eventually turned Roman Catholic.&nbsp; He entreated
+me to see the woman, which I did.</p>
+<p>I wrote to ask for an appointment.&nbsp; She lived in
+Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square; but on the day after the morrow
+she was to change her lodgings to Queen Anne Street, where she
+would receive me at 11 <span class="GutSmall">A.M.</span>&nbsp; I
+was punctual to a minute, and was shown into an ordinary
+furnished room.&nbsp; The maid informed me that Mrs. &mdash; had
+not yet arrived from Charlotte Street, but she was sure to come
+before long, as she had an engagement (so she said) with a
+gentleman.</p>
+<p>Nothing could have suited me better.&nbsp; I immediately set
+to work to examine the room and the furniture with the greatest
+care.&nbsp; I looked under and moved the sofa, tables, and
+armchairs.&nbsp; I looked behind the curtains, under the rug, and
+up the chimney.&nbsp; I could discover nothing.&nbsp; There was
+not the vestige of a spirit anywhere.&nbsp; At last the medium
+entered&mdash;a plain, middle-aged matron with nothing the least
+spiritual about her.&nbsp; She seated herself opposite to me at
+the round table in the centre of the room, and demurely asked
+what I wanted.&nbsp; &lsquo;To communicate with the
+spirits,&rsquo; I replied.&nbsp; She did not know whether that
+was possible.&nbsp; It depended upon the person who sought
+them.&nbsp; She would ask the spirits whether they would confer
+with me.&nbsp; Whereupon she put the question: &lsquo;Will the
+spirits converse with this gentleman?&rsquo;&nbsp; At all events,
+thought I, the term &lsquo;gentleman&rsquo; applies to the next
+world, which is a comfort.&nbsp; She listened for the
+answer.&nbsp; Presently three distinct raps on the table
+signified assent.&nbsp; She then took from her reticule a card
+whereon were printed the alphabet, and numerals up to 10.&nbsp;
+The letters were separated by transverse lines.&nbsp; She gave me
+a pencil with these instructions: I was to think, not utter, my
+question, and then put the pencil on each of the letters in
+succession.&nbsp; When the letters were touched which spelt the
+answer, the spirits would rap, and the words could be written
+down.</p>
+<p>My friend had told me this much, so I came prepared.&nbsp; I
+began by politely begging the lady to move away from the table at
+which we were seated, and take a chair in the furthest corner of
+the room.&nbsp; She indignantly complied, asking if I suspected
+her.&nbsp; I replied that &lsquo;all ladies were dangerous, when
+they were charming,&rsquo; which put us on the best of
+terms.&nbsp; I placed my hat so as to intercept her view of my
+operations, and thus pursued them.</p>
+<p>Thinking the matter over beforehand, I concluded that when the
+questioner, of either sex, was young, love would very probably be
+the topic; the flesh, not the spirit, would be the predominant
+interest.&nbsp; Being an ingenuous young man of the average sort,
+and desperately in love with Susan, let us say, I should
+naturally assist the supernatural being, if at a loss, to
+understand that the one thing wanted was information about
+Susan.&nbsp; I therefore mentally asked the question: &lsquo;Who
+is the most lovely angel without wings, and with the means of
+sitting down?&rsquo; and proceeded to pass the pencil over the
+letters, pausing nowhere.&nbsp; I now and then got a doubtful rap
+on or under the table,&mdash;how delivered I know not&mdash;but
+signifying nothing.&nbsp; It was clear the spirits needed a
+cue.&nbsp; I put the pencil on the letter S, and kept it
+there.&nbsp; I got a tentative rap.&nbsp; I passed at once to
+U.&nbsp; I got a more confident rap.&nbsp; Then to S. Rap, rap,
+without hesitation.&nbsp; A and N were assented to almost before
+I touched them.&nbsp; Susan was an angel&mdash;the angel.&nbsp;
+What more logical proof could I have of the immortality of the
+soul?</p>
+<p>Mrs. &mdash; asked me whether I was satisfied.&nbsp; I said it
+was miraculous; so much so indeed, that I could hardly believe
+the miracle, until corroborated by another.&nbsp; Would the
+spirits be kind enough to suspend this pencil in the air?&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Oh! that was nonsense.&nbsp; The spirits never lent
+themselves to mere frivolity.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I beg the
+spirits&rsquo; pardon, I am sure,&rsquo; said I.&nbsp; &lsquo;I
+have heard that they often move heavy tables.&nbsp; I thought
+perhaps the pencil would save them trouble.&nbsp; Will they move
+this round table up to this little one?&rsquo;&nbsp; I had, be it
+observed, when alone, moved and changed the relative positions of
+both tables; and had determined to make this my crucial
+test.&nbsp; To my astonishment, Mrs. &mdash; replied that she
+could not say whether they would or not.&nbsp; She would ask
+them.&nbsp; She did so, and the spirits rapped
+&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I drew my chair aside.&nbsp; The woman remained seated in the
+corner.&nbsp; I watched everything.&nbsp; Nothing happened.&nbsp;
+After a while, I took out my watch, and said: &lsquo;I fear the
+spirits do not intend to keep their word.&nbsp; I have an
+appointment twenty minutes hence, and can only give them ten
+minutes more.&rsquo;&nbsp; She calmly replied she had nothing to
+do with it.&nbsp; I had heard what the spirits said.&nbsp; I had
+better wait a little longer.&nbsp; Scarcely were the words out of
+her mouth, when the table gave a distinct crack, as if about to
+start.&nbsp; The medium instantly called my attention to
+it.&nbsp; I jumped out of my seat, passed between the two tables,
+when of a sudden the large table moved in the direction of the
+smaller one, and did not stop till it had pushed the little one
+over.&nbsp; I make no comments.&nbsp; No explanation to me is
+conceivable.&nbsp; I simply narrate what happened as accurately
+as I am able.</p>
+<p>One other case deserves to be added to the above.&nbsp; I have
+connected both of the foregoing with religious persuasions.&nbsp;
+The <i>s&eacute;ance</i> I am about to speak of was for the
+express purpose of bringing a brokenhearted and widowed mother
+into communication with the soul of her only son&mdash;a young
+artist of genius whom I had known, and who had died about a year
+before.&nbsp; The occasion was, of course, a solemn one.&nbsp;
+The interest of it was enhanced by the presence of the great
+apostle of Spiritualism&mdash;Sir William Crookes.&nbsp; The
+medium was Miss Kate Fox, again an American.&nbsp; The
+<i>s&eacute;ance</i> took place in the house of a very old friend
+of mine, the late Dr. George Bird.&nbsp; He had spiritualistic
+tendencies, but was supremely honest and single-minded; utterly
+incapable of connivance with deception of any kind.&nbsp; As far
+as I know, the medium had never been in the room before.&nbsp;
+The company present were Dr. Bird&rsquo;s intimate friend Sir
+William Crookes&mdash;future President of the Royal
+Society&mdash;Miss Bird, Dr. Bird&rsquo;s daughter, and her
+husband&mdash;Mr. Ionides&mdash;and Mrs. &mdash;, the mother of
+the young artist.&nbsp; The room, a large one, was darkened; the
+last light being extinguished after we had taken our places round
+the dining-table.&nbsp; We were strenuously enjoined to hold one
+another&rsquo;s hands.&nbsp; Unless we did so the
+<i>s&eacute;ance</i> would fail.</p>
+<p>Before entering the room, I secretly arranged with Mr.
+Ionides, who shared my scepticism, that we should sit side by
+side; and so each have one hand free.&nbsp; It is not necessary
+to relate what passed between the unhappy mother and the medium,
+suffice it to say that she put questions to her son; and the
+medium interpreted the rappings which came in reply.&nbsp; These,
+I believe, were all the poor lady could wish for.&nbsp; To the
+rest of us, the astounding events of the <i>s&eacute;ance</i>
+were the dim lights, accompanied by faint sounds of an accordion,
+which floated about the room over our heads.&nbsp; And now comes,
+to me, the strangest part of the whole performance.&nbsp; All the
+while I kept my right arm extended under the table, moving my
+hand to and fro.&nbsp; Presently it touched something.&nbsp; I
+make a grab, and caught, but could not hold for an instant,
+another hand.&nbsp; It was on the side away from Mr.
+Ionides.&nbsp; I said nothing, except to him, and the
+<i>s&eacute;ance</i> was immediately broken up.</p>
+<p>It may be thought by some that this narration is a biassed
+one.&nbsp; But those acquainted with the charlatanry in these
+days of what is called &lsquo;Christian Science,&rsquo; and know
+the extent to which crass ignorance and predisposed credulity can
+be duped by childish delusions, may have some &lsquo;idea how
+acute was the spirit-rapping epidemic some forty or fifty years
+ago.&nbsp; &lsquo;At this moment,&rsquo; writes Froude, in
+&lsquo;Fraser&rsquo;s Magazine,&rsquo; 1863, &lsquo;we are beset
+with reports of conversations with spirits, of tables
+miraculously lifted, of hands projecting out of the world of
+shadows into this mortal life.&nbsp; An unusually able,
+accomplished person, accustomed to deal with common-sense facts,
+a celebrated political economist, and notorious for business-like
+habits, assured this writer that a certain mesmerist, who was my
+informer&rsquo;s intimate friend, had raised a dead girl to
+life.&rsquo;&nbsp; Can we wonder that miracles are still believed
+in?&nbsp; Ah! no.&nbsp; The need, the dire need, of them remains,
+and will remain with us for ever.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> must move on; we have a long and
+rough journey before us.&nbsp; Durham had old friends in New
+York, Fred Calthorpe had letters to Colonel Fremont, who was then
+a candidate for the Presidency, and who had discovered the South
+Pass; and Mr. Ellice had given me a letter to John Jacob
+Astor&mdash;<i>the</i> American millionaire of that day.&nbsp; We
+were thus well provided with introductions; and nothing could
+exceed the kindness and hospitality of our American friends.</p>
+<p>But time was precious.&nbsp; It was already mid May, and we
+had everything to get&mdash;wagons, horses, men, mules, and
+provisions.&nbsp; So that we were anxious not to waste a day, but
+hurry on to St. Louis as fast as we could.&nbsp; Durham was too
+ill to go with us.&nbsp; Phoca had never intended to do so.&nbsp;
+Fred, Samson, and I, took leave of our companions, and travelling
+via the Hudson to Albany, Buffalo, down Lake Erie, and across to
+Chicago, we reached St. Louis in about eight days.&nbsp; As a
+single illustration of what this meant before railroads, Samson
+and I, having to stop a day at Chicago, hired a buggy and drove
+into the neighbouring woods, or wilderness, to hunt for wild
+turkeys.</p>
+<p>Our outfit, the whole of which we got at St. Louis, consisted
+of two heavy wagons, nine mules, and eight horses.&nbsp; We hired
+eight men, on the nominal understanding that they were to go with
+us as far as the Rocky Mountains on a hunting expedition.&nbsp;
+In reality all seven of them, before joining us, had separately
+decided to go to California.</p>
+<p>Having published in 1852 an account of our journey, entitled
+&lsquo;A Ride over the Rocky Mountains,&rsquo; I shall not repeat
+the story, but merely give a summary of the undertaking, with a
+few of the more striking incidents to show what travelling across
+unknown America entailed fifty or sixty years ago.</p>
+<p>A steamer took us up the Missouri to Omaha.&nbsp; Here we
+disembarked on the confines of occupied territory.&nbsp; From
+near this point, where the Platte river empties into the
+Missouri, to the mouth of the Columbia, on the
+Pacific&mdash;which we ultimately reached&mdash;is at least 1,500
+miles as the crow flies; for us (as we had to follow watercourses
+and avoid impassable ridges) it was very much more.&nbsp; Some
+five-and-forty miles from our starting-place we passed a small
+village called Savannah.&nbsp; Between it and Vancouver there was
+not a single white man&rsquo;s abode, with the exception of three
+trading stations&mdash;mere mud buildings&mdash;Fort Laramie,
+Fort Hall, and Fort Bois&eacute;.</p>
+<p>The vast prairies on this side of the Rocky Mountains were
+grazed by herds of countless bison, wapiti, antelope, and deer of
+various species.&nbsp; These were hunted by moving tribes of
+Indians&mdash;Pawnees, Omahaws, Cheyennes, Ponkaws, Sioux,
+&amp;c.&nbsp; On the Pacific side of the great range, a due west
+course&mdash;which ours was as near as we could keep it&mdash;lay
+across a huge rocky desert of volcanic d&eacute;bris, where
+hardly any vegetation was to be met with, save artemisia&mdash;a
+species of wormwood&mdash;scanty blades of gramma grass, and
+occasional osiers by river-banks.&nbsp; The rivers themselves
+often ran through ca&ntilde;ons or gulches, so deep that one
+might travel for days within a hundred feet of water yet perish
+(some of our animals did so) for the want of a drop to
+drink.&nbsp; Game was here very scarce&mdash;a few antelope,
+wolves, and abundance of rattlesnakes, were nearly the only
+living things we saw.&nbsp; The Indians were mainly fishers of
+the Shoshone&mdash;or Great Snake River&mdash;tribe, feeding
+mostly on salmon, which they speared with marvellous dexterity;
+and Root-diggers, who live upon wild roots.&nbsp; When hard put
+to it, however, in winter, the latter miserable creatures
+certainly, if not the former, devoured their own children.&nbsp;
+There was no map of the country.&nbsp; It was entirely
+unexplored; in fact, Bancroft the American historian, in his
+description of the Indian tribes, quotes my account of the
+Root-diggers; which shows how little was known of this region up
+to this date.&nbsp; I carried a small compass fastened round my
+neck.&nbsp; That and the stars (we travelled by night when in the
+vicinity of Indians) were my only guides for hundreds of dreary
+miles.</p>
+<p>Such then was the task we had set ourselves to grapple
+with.&nbsp; As with life itself, nothing but the magic powers of
+youth and ignorance could have cajoled us to face it with
+heedless confidence and eager zest.&nbsp; These conditions given,
+with health&mdash;the one essential of all enjoyment&mdash;added,
+the first escape from civilised restraint, the first survey of
+primordial nature as seen in the boundless expanse of the open
+prairie, the habitat of wild men and wild
+animals,&mdash;exhilarate one with emotions akin to the
+schoolboy&rsquo;s rapture in the playground, and the thoughtful
+man&rsquo;s contemplation of the stars.&nbsp; Freedom and change,
+space and the possibilities of the unknown, these are constant
+elements of our day-dreams; now and then actual life dangles
+visions of them before our eyes, alas! only to teach us that the
+aspirations which they inspire are, for the most part,
+illusory.</p>
+<p>Brief indeed, in our case, were the pleasures of
+novelty.&nbsp; For the first few days the business was a
+continuous picnic for all hands.&nbsp; It was a pleasure to be
+obliged to help to set up the tents, to cut wood, to fetch water,
+to harness the mules, and work exactly as the paid men
+worked.&nbsp; The equality in this respect&mdash;that everything
+each wanted done had to be done with his own hands&mdash;was
+perfect; and never, from first to last, even when starvation left
+me bare strength to lift the saddle on to my horse, did I regret
+the necessity, or desire to be dependent on another man.&nbsp;
+But the bloom soon wore off the plum; and the pleasure consisted
+not in doing but in resting when the work was done.</p>
+<p>For the reason already stated, a sample only of the daily
+labour will be given.&nbsp; It may be as well first to bestow a
+few words upon the men; for, in the long run, our fellow beings
+are the powerful factors, for good or ill, in all our worldly
+enterprises.</p>
+<p>We had two ordinary mule-drivers&mdash;Potter and Morris, a
+little acrobat out of a travelling circus, a <i>metif</i> or
+half-breed Indian named Jim, two French Canadians&mdash;Nelson
+and Louis (the latter spoke French only); Jacob, a Pennsylvanian
+auctioneer whose language was a mixture of Dutch, Yankee, and
+German; and (after we reached Fort Laramie) another
+Nelson&mdash;&lsquo;William&rsquo; as I shall call him&mdash;who
+offered his services gratis if we would allow him to go with us
+to California.</p>
+<p>Jacob the Dutch Yankee was the most intelligent and the most
+useful of the lot, and was unanimously elected cook for the
+party.&nbsp; The Canadian Nelson was a hard-working good young
+fellow, with a passionate temper.&nbsp; Louis was a hunter by
+profession, Gallic to the tip of his moustache&mdash;fond of
+slapping his breast and telling of the mighty deeds of <i>nous
+autres en haut</i>.&nbsp; Jim, the half-breed was Indian by
+nature&mdash;idle, silent, treacherous, but a crafty
+hunter.&nbsp; William deserves special mention, not from any
+idiosyncrasy of the man, but because he was concerned soon after
+he joined us in the most disastrous of my adventures throughout
+the expedition.</p>
+<p>To look at, William Nelson might have sat for the portrait of
+Leatherstocking.&nbsp; He was a tall gaunt man who had spent his
+youth bringing rafts of timber down the Wabash river, from Fort
+Wayne to Maumee, in Ohio.&nbsp; For the last six years (he was
+three-and-thirty) he had been trapping musk rats and beaver, and
+dealing in pelts generally.&nbsp; At the time of our meeting he
+was engaged to a Miss Mary something&mdash;the daughter of an
+English immigrant, who would not consent to the marriage until
+William was better off.&nbsp; He was now bound for California,
+where he hoped to make the required fortune.&nbsp; The poor
+fellow was very sentimental about his Mary; but, despite his
+weatherbeaten face, hardy-looking frame, and his &lsquo;longue
+carabine,&rsquo; he was scarcely the hero which, no doubt, Miss
+Mary took him for.</p>
+<p>Yes, the novelty soon wore off.&nbsp; We had necessaries
+enough to last to California.&nbsp; We also had enough
+unnecessaries to bring us to grief in a couple of weeks.&nbsp;
+Our wagons were loaded to the roof.&nbsp; And seeing there was no
+road nor so much as a track, that there were frequent swamps and
+small rivers to be crossed, that our Comanche mules were wilder
+than the Indians who had owned them, it may easily be believed
+that our rate of progress did not average more than six or seven
+miles a day; sometimes it took from dawn to dusk to cross a
+stream by ferrying our packages, and emptied wagons, on such
+rafts as could be extemporised.&nbsp; Before the end of a
+fortnight, both wagons were shattered, wheels smashed, and axles
+irreparable.&nbsp; The men, who were as refractory as the other
+animals, helped themselves to provisions, tobacco and whisky, at
+their own sweet will, and treated our remonstrances with
+resentment and contempt.</p>
+<p>Heroic measures were exigent.&nbsp; The wagons were broken up
+and converted into pack saddles.&nbsp; Both tents, masses of
+provisions, 100 lbs. of lead for bullets, kegs of powder, warm
+clothing, mackintoshes, waterproof sheeting, tarpaulins, medicine
+chest, and bags of sugar, were flung aside to waste their
+sweetness on the desert soil.&nbsp; Not one of us had ever packed
+a saddle before; and certainly not one of the mules had ever
+carried, or to all appearances, ever meant to carry, a
+pack.&nbsp; It was a fight between man and beast every
+day&mdash;twice a day indeed, for we halted to rest and feed, and
+had to unpack and repack our remaining impedimenta in payment for
+the indulgence.</p>
+<p>Let me cite a page from my diary.&nbsp; It is a fair specimen
+of scores of similar entries.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>June</i> 24<i>th</i>.&mdash;My morning watch.&nbsp;
+Up at 1 <span class="GutSmall">A.M.</span>&nbsp; Roused the men
+at 3.30.&nbsp; Off at 7.30.&nbsp; Rained hard all day.&nbsp;
+Packs slipped or kicked off eighteen times before halt.&nbsp; Men
+grumbling.&nbsp; Nelson and Jim both too ill to work.&nbsp; When
+adjusting pack, Nelson and Louis had a desperate quarrel.&nbsp;
+Nelson drew his knife and nearly stabbed Louis.&nbsp; I snatched
+a pistol out of my holster, and threatened to shoot Nelson unless
+he shut up.&nbsp; Fred, of course, laughed obstreperously at the
+notion of my committing murder, which spoilt the dramatic
+effect.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Oh! these devils of mules!&nbsp; After repacking, they
+rolled, they kicked and bucked, they screamed and bit, as though
+we were all in Hell, and didn&rsquo;t know it.&nbsp; It took four
+men to pack each one; and the moment their heads were loosed,
+away they went into the river, over the hills, and across country
+as hard as they could lay legs to ground.&nbsp; It was a cheerful
+sight!&mdash;the flour and biscuit stuff swimming about in the
+stream, the hams in a ditch full of mud, the trailed pots and
+pans bumping and rattling on the ground until they were as
+shapeless as old wide-awakes.&nbsp; And, worst of all, the
+pack-saddles, which had delayed us a week to make&mdash;nothing
+now but a bundle of splinters.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;25<i>th</i>.&mdash;What a night!&nbsp; A fearful storm
+broke over us.&nbsp; All round was like a lake.&nbsp; Fred and I
+sat, back to back, perched on a flour bag till daylight, with no
+covering but our shooting jackets, our feet in a pool, and bodies
+streaming like cascades.&nbsp; Repeated lightning seemed to
+strike the ground within a few yards of us.&nbsp; The animals,
+wild with terror, stampeded in all directions.&nbsp; In the
+morning, lo and behold!&nbsp; Samson on his back in the water,
+insensibly drunk.&nbsp; At first I thought he was dead; but he
+was only dead drunk.&nbsp; We can&rsquo;t move till he can,
+unless we bequeath him to the wolves, which are plentiful.&nbsp;
+This is the third time he has served us the same trick.&nbsp; I
+took the liberty to ram my heel through the whisky keg (we have
+kept a small one for emergencies) and put it empty under his head
+for a pillow.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>There were plenty of days and nights to match these, but there
+were worse in store for us.</p>
+<p>One evening, travelling along the North Platte river, before
+reaching Laramie, we overtook a Mormon family on their way to
+Salt Lake city.&nbsp; They had a light covered wagon with hardly
+anything in it but a small supply of flour and bacon.&nbsp; It
+was drawn by four oxen and two cows.&nbsp; Four milch cows were
+driven.&nbsp; The man&rsquo;s name was Blazzard&mdash;a
+Yorkshireman from the Wolds, whose speech was that of
+Learoyd.&nbsp; He had only his wife and a very pretty daughter of
+sixteen or seventeen with him.&nbsp; We asked him how he became a
+Mormon.&nbsp; He answered: &lsquo;From conviction,&rsquo; and
+entreated us to be baptized in the true faith at his hands.&nbsp;
+The offer was tempting, for the pretty little milkmaid might have
+become one of one&rsquo;s wives on the spot.&nbsp; In truth the
+sweet nymph urged conversion more persuasively than her
+papa&mdash;though with what views who shall say?&nbsp; The old
+farmer&rsquo;s acquaintance with the Bible was remarkable.&nbsp;
+He quoted it at every sentence, and was eloquent upon the subject
+of the meaning and the origin of the word
+&lsquo;Bible.&rsquo;&nbsp; He assured us the name was given to
+the Holy Book from the circumstance of its contents having passed
+a synod of prophets, just as an Act of Parliament passes the
+House of Commons&mdash;<i>by Bill</i>.&nbsp; Hence its
+title.&nbsp; It was this historical fact that guaranteed the
+authenticity of the sacred volume.&nbsp; There are various
+reasons for believing&mdash;this is one of them.</p>
+<p>The next day, being Sunday, was spent in sleep.&nbsp; In the
+afternoon I helped the Yorkshire lassie to herd her cattle, which
+had strayed a long distance amongst the rank herbage by the banks
+of the Platte.&nbsp; The heat was intense, well over 120 in the
+sun; and the mosquitos rose in clouds at every step in the wet
+grass.&nbsp; It was an easy job for me, on my little grey, to
+gallop after the cows and drive them home, (it would have been a
+wearisome one for her,) and she was very grateful, and played
+Dorothea to my Hermann.&nbsp; None of our party wore any upper
+clothing except a flannel shirt; I had cut off the sleeves of
+mine at the elbow.&nbsp; This was better for rough work, but the
+broiling sun had raised big blisters on my arms and throat which
+were very painful.&nbsp; When we got back to camp, Dorothea laved
+the burns for me with cool milk.&nbsp; Ah! she was very pretty;
+and, what &lsquo;blackguard&rsquo;&nbsp; Heine, as Carlyle dubs
+him, would have called &lsquo;na&iuml;ve schmutzig.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+When we parted next morning I thought with a sigh that before the
+autumn was over, she would be in the seraglio of Mr. Brigham
+Young; who, Artemus Ward used to say, was &lsquo;the most married
+man he ever knew.&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Sport</span> had been the final cause of
+my trip to America&mdash;sport and the love of adventure.&nbsp;
+As the bison&mdash;buffalo, as they are called&mdash;are now
+extinct, except in preserved districts, a few words about them as
+they then were may interest game hunters of the present day.</p>
+<p>No description could convey an adequate conception of the
+numbers in which they congregated.&nbsp; The admirable
+illustrations in Catlin&rsquo;s great work on the North American
+Indians, afford the best idea to those who have never seen the
+wonderful sight itself.&nbsp; The districts they frequented were
+vast sandy uplands sparsely covered with the tufty buffalo or
+gramma grass.&nbsp; These regions were always within reach of the
+water-courses; to which morning and evening the herds descended
+by paths, after the manner of sheep or cattle in a pasture.&nbsp;
+Never shall I forget the first time I witnessed the extraordinary
+event of the evening drink.&nbsp; Seeing the black masses
+galloping down towards the river, by the banks of which our party
+were travelling, we halted some hundred yards short of the
+tracks.&nbsp; To have been caught amongst the animals would have
+been destruction; for, do what they would to get out of
+one&rsquo;s way, the weight of the thousands pushing on would
+have crushed anything that impeded them.&nbsp; On the occasion I
+refer to we approached to within safe distance, and fired into
+them till the ammunition in our pouches was expended.</p>
+<p>As examples of our sporting exploits, three days taken almost
+at random will suffice.&nbsp; The season was so far advanced
+that, unless we were to winter at Fort Laramie, it was necessary
+to keep going.&nbsp; It was therefore agreed that whoever left
+the line of march&mdash;that is, the vicinity of the North
+Platte&mdash;for the purpose of hunting should take his chance of
+catching up the rest of the party, who were to push on as
+speedily as possible.&nbsp; On two of the days which I am about
+to record this rule nearly brought me into trouble.&nbsp; I quote
+from my journal:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Left camp to hunt by self.&nbsp; Got a shot at some
+deer lying in long grass on banks of a stream.&nbsp; While
+stalking, I could hardly see or breathe for mosquitos; they were
+in my eyes, nose, and mouth.&nbsp; Steady aim was impossible;
+and, to my disgust, I missed the easiest of shots.&nbsp; The neck
+and flanks of my little grey are as red as if painted.&nbsp; He
+is weak from loss of blood.&nbsp; Fred&rsquo;s head is now so
+swollen he cannot wear his hard hat; his eyes are bunged up, and
+his face is comic to look at.&nbsp; Several deer and antelopes;
+but ground too level, and game too wild to let one near.&nbsp;
+Hardly caring what direction I took, followed outskirts of large
+wood, four or five miles away from the river.&nbsp; Saw a good
+many summer lodges; but knew, by the quantity of game, that the
+Indians had deserted them.&nbsp; In the afternoon came suddenly
+upon deer; and singling out one of the youngest fawns, tried to
+run it down.&nbsp; The country being very rough, I found it hard
+work to keep between it and the wood.&nbsp; First, my hat blew
+off; then a pistol jumped out of the holster; but I was too near
+to give up,&mdash;meaning to return for these things
+afterwards.&nbsp; Two or three times I ran right over the fawn,
+which bleated in the most piteous manner, but always escaped the
+death-blow from the grey&rsquo;s hoofs.&nbsp; By degrees we edged
+nearer to the thicket, when the fawn darted down the side of a
+bluff, and was lost in the long grass and brushwood, I followed
+at full speed; but, unable to arrest the impetus of the horse, we
+dashed headlong into the thick scrub, and were both thrown with
+violence to the ground.&nbsp; I was none the worse; but the poor
+beast had badly hurt his shoulder, and for the time was dead
+lame.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;For an hour at least I hunted, for my pistol.&nbsp; It
+was much more to me than my hat.&nbsp; It was a huge horse
+pistol, that threw an ounce ball of exactly the calibre of my
+double rifle.&nbsp; I had shot several buffaloes with it, by
+riding close to them in a chase; and when in danger of Indians I
+loaded it with slugs.&nbsp; At last I found it.&nbsp; It was
+getting late; and I didn&rsquo;t rightly know where I was.&nbsp;
+I made for the low country.&nbsp; But as we camped last night at
+least two miles from the river, on account of the swamps, the
+difficulty was to find the tracks.&nbsp; The poor little grey and
+I hunted for it in vain.&nbsp; The wet ground was too wet, the
+dry ground too hard, to show the tracks in the now imperfect
+light.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The situation was a disagreeable one: it might be two
+or three days before I again fell in with my friends.&nbsp; I had
+not touched food since the early morning, and was rather
+done.&nbsp; To return to the high ground was to give up for the
+night; but that meant another day behind the cavalcade, with
+diminished chance of overtaking it.&nbsp; Through the dusk I saw
+what I fancied was something moving on a mound ahead of me which
+arose out of the surrounding swamp.&nbsp; I spurred on, but only
+to find the putrid carcase of a buffalo, with a wolf supping on
+it.&nbsp; The brute was gorged, and looked as sleek as &ldquo;die
+sch&ouml;ne Frau Giermund&rdquo;; but, unlike Isegrim&rsquo;s
+spouse, she was free to escape, for she wasn&rsquo;t worth a
+bullet.&nbsp; I was so famished, that I examined the carcase with
+the hope of finding a cut that would last for a day or two; my
+nose wouldn&rsquo;t have it.&nbsp; I plodded on, the water up to
+the saddle-girths.&nbsp; The mosquitos swarmed in millions, and
+the poor little grey could hardly get one leg before the
+other.&nbsp; I, too, was so feverish that, ignorant of bacteria,
+I filled my round hat with the filthy stagnant water, and drank
+it at a draught.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;At last I made for higher ground.&nbsp; It was too dark
+to hunt for tracks, so I began to look out for a level bed.&nbsp;
+Suddenly my beast, who jogged along with his nose to the ground,
+gave a loud neigh.&nbsp; We had struck the trail.&nbsp; I threw
+the reins on his neck, and left matters to his superior
+instincts.&nbsp; In less than half an hour the joyful light of a
+camp fire gladdened my eyes.&nbsp; Fred told me he had halted as
+soon as he was able, not on my account only, but because he, too,
+had had a severe fall, and was suffering great pain from a
+bruised knee.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Here is an ordinary example of buffalo shooting:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>July</i> 2<i>nd</i>.&mdash;Fresh meat much
+wanted.&nbsp; With Jim the half-breed to the hills.&nbsp; No
+sooner on high ground than we sighted game.&nbsp; As far as eye
+could reach, right away to the horizon, the plain was black with
+buffaloes, a truly astonishing sight.&nbsp; Jim was used to
+it.&nbsp; I stopped to spy them with amazement.&nbsp; The nearest
+were not more than half a mile off, so we picketed our horses
+under the sky line; and choosing the hollows, walked on till
+crawling became expedient.&nbsp; As is their wont, the outsiders
+were posted on bluffs or knolls in a commanding position; these
+were old bulls.&nbsp; To my inexperience, our chance of getting a
+shot seemed small; for we had to cross the dipping ground under
+the brow whereon the sentinels were lying.&nbsp; Three extra
+difficulties beset us&mdash;the prairie dogs (a marmot, so called
+from its dog-like bark when disturbed) were all round us, and
+bolted into their holes like rabbits directly they saw us coming;
+two big grey wolves, the regular camp followers of a herd, were
+prowling about in a direct line between us and the bulls; lastly,
+the cows, though up and feeding, were inconveniently out of
+reach.&nbsp; (The meat of the young cow is much preferred to that
+of the bull.)&nbsp; Jim, however, was confident.&nbsp; I followed
+my leader to a wink.&nbsp; The only instruction I didn&rsquo;t
+like when we started crawling on the hot sand was &ldquo;Look out
+for rattlesnakes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The wolves stopped, examined us suspiciously, then
+quietly trotted off.&nbsp; What with this and the alarm of the
+prairie dogs, an old bull, a patriarch of the tribe, jumped up
+and walked with majestic paces to the top of the knoll.&nbsp; We
+lay flat on our faces, till he, satisfied with the result of his
+scrutiny, resumed his recumbent posture; but with his head turned
+straight towards us.&nbsp; Jim, to my surprise, stealthily
+crawled on.&nbsp; In another minute or two we had gained a point
+whence we could see through the grass without being seen.&nbsp;
+Here we rested to recover breath.&nbsp; Meanwhile, three or four
+young cows fed to within sixty or seventy yards of us.&nbsp;
+Unluckily we both selected the same animal, and both fired at the
+same moment.&nbsp; Off went the lot helter skelter, all save the
+old bull, who roared out his rage and trotted up close to our
+hiding place.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Look out for a bolt,&rdquo; whispered Jim,
+&ldquo;but don&rsquo;t show yourself nohow till I tell
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;For a minute or two the suspense was exciting.&nbsp;
+One hardly dared to breathe.&nbsp; But his majesty saw us not,
+and turned again to his wives.&nbsp; We instantly reloaded; and
+the startled herd, which had only moved a few yards, gave us the
+chance of a second shot.&nbsp; The first cow had fallen dead
+almost where she stood.&nbsp; The second we found at the foot of
+the hill, also with two bullet wounds behind the shoulder.&nbsp;
+The tongues, humps, and tender loins, with some other choice
+morsels, were soon cut off and packed, and we returned to camp
+with a grand supply of beef for Jacob&rsquo;s larder.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">At</span> the risk of being tedious, I
+will tell of one more day&rsquo;s buffalo hunting, to show the
+vicissitudes of this kind of sport.&nbsp; Before doing so we will
+glance at another important feature of prairie life, a camp of
+Sioux Indians.</p>
+<p>One evening, after halting on the banks of the Platte, we
+heard distant sounds of tomtoms on the other side of the
+river.&nbsp; Jim, the half-breed, and Louis differed as to the
+tribe, and hence the friendliness or hostility, of our
+neighbours.&nbsp; Louis advised saddling up and putting the night
+between us; he regaled us to boot with a few blood-curdling tales
+of Indian tortures, and of <i>nous autres en haut</i>.&nbsp; Jim
+treated these with scorn, and declared he knew by the
+&lsquo;tunes&rsquo; (!) that the pow-wow was Sioux.&nbsp; Just
+now, he asserted, the Sioux were friendly, and this
+&lsquo;village&rsquo; was on its way to Fort Laramie to barter
+&lsquo;robes&rsquo; (buffalo skins) for blankets and
+ammunition.&nbsp; He was quite willing to go over and talk to
+them if we had no objection.</p>
+<p>Fred, ever ready for adventure, would have joined him in a
+minute; but the river, which was running strong, was full of
+nasty currents, and his injured knee disabled him from
+swimming.&nbsp; No one else seemed tempted; so, following
+Jim&rsquo;s example, I stripped to my flannel shirt and
+moccasins, and crossed the river, which was easier to get into
+than out of, and soon reached the &lsquo;village.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Jim was right,&mdash;they were Sioux, and friendly.&nbsp; They
+offered us a pipe of kinik (the dried bark of the red willow),
+and jabbered away with their kinsman, who seemed almost more at
+home with them than with us.</p>
+<p>Seeing one of their &lsquo;braves&rsquo; with three fresh
+scalps at his belt, I asked for the history of them.&nbsp; In
+Sioux gutturals the story was a long one.&nbsp; Jim&rsquo;s
+translation amounted to this: The scalps were
+&lsquo;lifted&rsquo; from two Crows and a Ponkaw.&nbsp; The
+Crows, it appeared, were the Sioux&rsquo; natural enemies
+&lsquo;anyhow,&rsquo; for they occasionally hunted on each
+other&rsquo;s ranges.&nbsp; But the Ponkaw, whom he would not
+otherwise have injured, was casually met by him on a horse which
+the Sioux recognised for a white man&rsquo;s.&nbsp; Upon being
+questioned how he came by it, the Ponkaw simply replied that it
+was his own.&nbsp; Whereupon the Sioux called him a liar; and
+proved it by sending an arrow through his body.</p>
+<p>I didn&rsquo;t quite see it.&nbsp; But then, strictly
+speaking, I am no collector of scalps.&nbsp; To preserve my own,
+I kept the hair on it as short as a tooth-brush.</p>
+<p>Before we left, our hosts fed us on raw buffalo meat.&nbsp;
+This, cut in slices, and dried crisp in the sun, is
+excellent.&nbsp; Their lodges were very comfortable, most of them
+large enough to hold a dozen people.&nbsp; The ground inside was
+covered with buffalo robes; and the sewn skins, spread tight upon
+the converging poles, formed a tent stout enough to defy all
+weathers.&nbsp; In winter the lodge can be entirely closed; and
+when a fire is kindled in the centre, the smoke escaping at a
+small hole where the poles join, the snugness is complete.</p>
+<p>At the entrance of one of these lodges I watched a squaw and
+her child prepare a meal.&nbsp; When the fuel was collected, a
+fat puppy, playing with the child, was seized by the squaw, and
+knocked on the throat&mdash;not head&mdash;with a stick.&nbsp;
+The puppy was then returned, kicking, to the tender mercies of
+the infant; who exerted its small might to add to the
+animal&rsquo;s miseries, while the mother fed the fire and filled
+a kettle for the stew.&nbsp; The puppy, much more alive than
+dead, was held by the hind leg over the flames as long as the
+squaw&rsquo;s fingers could stand them.&nbsp; She then let it
+fall on the embers, where it struggled and squealed horribly, and
+would have wriggled off, but for the little savage, who took good
+care to provide for the satisfactory singeing of its
+playmate.</p>
+<p>Considering the length of its lineage, how remarkably hale and
+well preserved is our own barbarity!</p>
+<p>We may now take our last look at the buffaloes, for we shall
+see them no more.&nbsp; Again I quote my journal:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;<i>July</i> 5<i>th</i>.&mdash;Men sulky because they
+have nothing to eat but rancid ham, and biscuit dust which has
+been so often soaked that it is mouldy and sour.&nbsp; They are a
+dainty lot!&nbsp; Samson and I left camp early with the hopes of
+getting meat.&nbsp; While he was shooting prairie dogs his horse
+made off, and cost me nearly an hour&rsquo;s riding to
+catch.&nbsp; Then, accidentally letting go of my mustang, he too
+escaped; and I had to run him down with the other.&nbsp; Towards
+evening, spied a small band of buffaloes, which we approached by
+leading our horses up a hollow.&nbsp; They got our wind, however,
+and were gone before we were aware of it.&nbsp; They were all
+young, and so fast, it took a twenty minutes&rsquo; gallop to
+come up with them.&nbsp; Samson&rsquo;s horse put his foot in a
+hole, and the cropper they both got gave the band a long start,
+as it became a stern chase, and no heading off.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;At length I managed to separate one from the herd by
+firing my pistol into the &ldquo;brown,&rdquo; and then devoted
+my efforts to him alone.&nbsp; Once or twice he turned and glared
+savagely through his mane.&nbsp; When quite isolated he pulled up
+short, so did I. We were about sixty yards apart.&nbsp; I flung
+the reins upon the neck of the mustang, who was too blown to
+stir, and handling my rifle, waited for the bull to move so that
+I might see something more than the great shaggy front, which
+screened his body.&nbsp; But he stood his ground, tossing up the
+sand with his hoofs.&nbsp; Presently, instead of turning tail, he
+put his head down, and bellowing with rage, came at me as hard as
+he could tear.&nbsp; I had but a moment for decision,&mdash;to
+dig spurs into the mustang, or risk the shot.&nbsp; I chose the
+latter; paused till I was sure of his neck, and fired when he was
+almost under me.&nbsp; In an instant I was sent flying; and the
+mustang was on his back with all four legs in the air.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The bull was probably as much astonished as we
+were.&nbsp; His charge had carried him about thirty yards, at
+most, beyond us.&nbsp; There he now stood; facing me, pawing the
+ground and snorting as before.&nbsp; Badly wounded I knew him to
+be,&mdash;that was the worst of it; especially as my rifle, with
+its remaining loaded barrel, lay right between us.&nbsp; To
+hesitate for a second only, was to lose the game.&nbsp; There was
+no time to think of bruises; I crawled, eyes on him, straight for
+my weapon: got it&mdash;it was already cocked, and the stock
+unbroken&mdash;raised my knee for a rest.&nbsp; We were only
+twenty yards apart (the shot meant death for one of the two), and
+just catching a glimpse of his shoulder-blade, I pulled.&nbsp; I
+could hear the thud of the heavy bullet, and&mdash;what was
+sweeter music&mdash;the ugh! of the fatal groan.&nbsp; The beast
+dropped on his knees, and a gush of blood spurted from his
+nostrils.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But the wild devil of a mustang? that was my first
+thought now.&nbsp; Whenever one dismounted, it was necessary to
+loosen his long lariat, and let it trail on the ground.&nbsp;
+Without this there was no chance of catching him.&nbsp; I saw at
+once what had happened: by the greatest good fortune, at the last
+moment, he must have made an instinctive start, which probably
+saved his life, and mine too.&nbsp; The bull&rsquo;s horns had
+just missed his entrails and my leg,&mdash;we were broadside on
+to the charge,&mdash;and had caught him in the thigh, below the
+hip.&nbsp; There was a big hole, and he was bleeding
+plentifully.&nbsp; For all that, he wouldn&rsquo;t let me catch
+him.&nbsp; He could go faster on three legs than I on two.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;It was getting dark, I had not touched food since
+starting, nor had I wetted my lips.&nbsp; My thirst was now
+intolerable.&nbsp; The travelling rule, about keeping on, was an
+ugly incubus.&nbsp; Samson would go his own ways&mdash;he had
+sense enough for that&mdash;but how, when, where, was I to quench
+my thirst?&nbsp; Oh! for the tip of Lazarus&rsquo;
+finger&mdash;or for choice, a bottle of Bass&mdash;to cool my
+tongue!&nbsp; Then too, whither would the mustang stray in the
+night if I rested or fell asleep?&nbsp; Again and again I tried
+to stalk him by the starlight.&nbsp; Twice I got hold of his
+tail, but he broke away.&nbsp; If I drove him down to the river
+banks the chance of catching him would be no better, and I should
+lose the dry ground to rest on.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;It was about as unpleasant a night as I had yet
+passed.&nbsp; Every now and then I sat down, and dropped off to
+sleep from sheer exhaustion.&nbsp; Every time this happened I
+dreamed of sparkling drinks; then woke with a start to a lively
+sense of the reality, and anxious searches for the mustang.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Directly the day dawned I drove the animal, now very
+stiff, straight down for the Platte.&nbsp; He wanted water fully
+as much as his master; and when we sighted it he needed no more
+driving.&nbsp; Such a hurry was he in that, in his rush for the
+river, he got bogged in the muddy swamp at its edge.&nbsp; I
+seized my chance, and had him fast in a minute.&nbsp; We both
+plunged into the stream; I, clothes and all, and drank, and
+drank, and drank.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>That evening I caught up the cavalcade.</p>
+<p>How curious it is to look back upon such experiences from a
+different stage of life&rsquo;s journey!&nbsp; How would it have
+fared with me had my rifle exploded with the fall? it was knocked
+out of my hands at full cock.&nbsp; How if the stock had been
+broken?&nbsp; It had been thrown at least ten yards.&nbsp; How if
+the horn had entered my thigh instead of the horse&rsquo;s?&nbsp;
+How if I had fractured a limb, or had been stunned, or the bull
+had charged again while I was creeping up to him?&nbsp; Any one,
+or more than one, of these contingencies were more likely to
+happen than not.&nbsp; But nothing did happen, save&mdash;the
+best.</p>
+<p>Not a thought of the kind ever crossed my mind, either at the
+time or afterwards.&nbsp; Yet I was not a thoughtless man, only
+an average man.&nbsp; Nine Englishmen out of ten with a love of
+sport&mdash;as most Englishmen are&mdash;would have done, and
+have felt, just as I did.&nbsp; I was bruised and still; but so
+one is after a run with hounds.&nbsp; I had had many a nastier
+fall hunting in Derbyshire.&nbsp; The worst that could happen did
+not happen; but the worst never&mdash;well, so rarely does.&nbsp;
+One might shoot oneself instead of the pigeon, or be caught
+picking forbidden fruit.&nbsp; Narrow escapes are as good as
+broad ones.&nbsp; The truth is, when we are young, and active,
+and healthy, whatever happens, of the pleasant or lucky kind, we
+accept as a matter of course.</p>
+<p>Ah! youth! youth!&nbsp; If we only knew when we were well off,
+when we were happy, when we possessed all that this world has to
+give!&nbsp; If we but knew that love is only a matter of course
+so long as youth and its bounteous train is ours, we might
+perhaps make the most of it, and give up looking
+for&mdash;something better.&nbsp; But what then?&nbsp; Give up
+the &lsquo;something better&rsquo;?&nbsp; Give up
+pursuit,&mdash;the effort that makes us strong?&nbsp; &lsquo;Give
+up the sweets of hope&rsquo;?&nbsp;&nbsp; No! &rsquo;tis better
+as it is, perhaps.&nbsp; The kitten plays with its tail, and the
+nightingale sings; but they think no more of happiness than the
+rose-bud of its beauty.&nbsp; May be happiness comes not of too
+much knowing, or too much thinking either.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Fort Laramie</span> was a military station
+and trading post combined.&nbsp; It was a stone building in what
+they called a &lsquo;compound&rsquo; or open space, enclosed by a
+palisade.&nbsp; When we arrived there, it was occupied by a troop
+of mounted riflemen under canvas, outside the compound.&nbsp; The
+officers lived in the fort; and as we had letters to the Colonel
+&mdash; Somner &mdash; and to the Captain &mdash; Rhete, they
+were very kind and very useful to us.</p>
+<p>We pitched our camp by the Laramie river, four miles from the
+fort.&nbsp; Nearer than that there was not a blade of
+grass.&nbsp; The cavalry horses and military mules needed all
+there was at hand.&nbsp; Some of the mules we were allowed to
+buy, or exchange for our own.&nbsp; We accordingly added six
+fresh ones to our cavalcade, and parted with two horses; which
+gave us a total of fifteen mules and six horses.&nbsp; Government
+provisions were not to be had, so that we could not replenish our
+now impoverished stock.&nbsp; This was a serious matter, as will
+be seen before long.&nbsp; Nor was the evil lessened by my being
+laid up with a touch of fever&mdash;the effect, no doubt, of
+those drenches of stagnant water.&nbsp; The regimental doctor was
+absent.&nbsp; I could not be taken into the fort.&nbsp; And, as
+we had no tent, and had thrown away almost everything but the
+clothes we wore, I had to rough it and take my chance.&nbsp; Some
+relics of our medicine chest, together with a tough constitution,
+pulled me through.&nbsp; But I was much weakened, and by no means
+fit for the work before us.&nbsp; Fred did his best to persuade
+me from going further.&nbsp; He confessed that he was utterly
+sick of the expedition; that his injured knee prevented him from
+hunting, or from being of any use in packing and camp work; that
+the men were a set of ruffians who did just as they
+chose&mdash;they grumbled at the hardships, yet helped themselves
+to the stores without restraint; that we had the Rocky Mountains
+yet to cross; after that, the country was unknown.&nbsp; Colonel
+Somner had strongly advised us to turn back.&nbsp; Forty of his
+men had tried two months ago to carry despatches to the
+regiment&rsquo;s headquarters in Oregon.&nbsp; Only five had got
+through; the rest had been killed and scalped.&nbsp; Finally,
+that we had something like 1,200 miles to go, and were already in
+the middle of August.&nbsp; It would be folly, obstinacy,
+madness, to attempt it.&nbsp; He would stop and hunt where we
+were, as long as I liked; or he would go back with me.&nbsp; He
+would hire fresh good men, and buy new horses; and, now that we
+knew the country, we could get to St. Louis before the end of
+September, and&mdash;.&nbsp; There was no reasonable answer to be
+made.&nbsp; I simply told him I had thought it over, and had
+decided to go on.&nbsp; Like the plucky fellow and staunch friend
+that he was, he merely shrugged his shoulders, and quietly said,
+&lsquo;Very well.&nbsp; So be it.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Before leaving Fort Laramie a singular incident occurred,
+which must seem so improbable, that its narration may be taken
+for fiction.&nbsp; It was, however, a fact.&nbsp; There was
+plenty of game near our camping ground; and though the weather
+was very hot, one of the party usually took the trouble to bring
+in something to keep the pot supplied.&nbsp; The sage hens, the
+buffalo or elk meat were handed over to Jacob, who made a stew
+with bacon and rice, enough for the evening meal and the
+morrow&rsquo;s breakfast.&nbsp; After supper, when everyone had
+filled his stomach, the large kettle, covered with its lid, was
+taken off the fire, and this allowed to burn itself out.</p>
+<p>For four or five mornings running the kettle was found nearly
+empty, and all hands had to put up with a cup of coffee and
+mouldy biscuit dust.&nbsp; There was a good deal of
+unparliamentary language.&nbsp; Everyone accused everyone else of
+filthy greediness.&nbsp; It was disgusting that after eating all
+he could, a man hadn&rsquo;t the decency to wait till the
+morning.&nbsp; The pot had been full for supper, and, as every
+man could see, it was never half emptied&mdash;enough was always
+left for breakfast.&nbsp; A resolution was accordingly passed
+that each should take his turn of an hour&rsquo;s watch at night,
+till the glutton was caught in the act.</p>
+<p>My hour happened to be from 11 to 12 <span
+class="GutSmall">P.M.</span>&nbsp; I strongly suspected the thief
+to be an Indian, and loaded my big pistol with slugs on the
+chance.&nbsp; It was a clear moonlight night.&nbsp; I propped
+myself comfortably with a bag of hams; and concealed myself as
+well as I could in a bush of artemisia, which was very thick all
+round.&nbsp; I had not long been on the look-out when a large
+grey wolf prowled slowly out of the bushes.&nbsp; The night was
+bright as day; but every one of the men was sound asleep in a
+circle round the remains of the camp fire.&nbsp; The wolf passed
+between them, hesitating as it almost touched a covering
+blanket.&nbsp; Step by step it crept up to the kettle, took the
+handle of the lid between its jaws, lifted it off, placed it
+noiselessly on the ground, and devoured the savoury stew.</p>
+<p>I could not fire, because of the men.&nbsp; I dared not move,
+lest I should disturb the robber.&nbsp; I was even afraid the
+click of cocking the pistol would startle him and prevent my
+getting a quiet shot.&nbsp; But patience was rewarded.&nbsp; When
+satiated, the brute retired as stealthily as he had advanced; and
+as he passed within seven or eight yards of me I let him have
+it.&nbsp; Great was my disappointment to see him scamper
+off.&nbsp; How was it possible I could have missed him?&nbsp; I
+must have fired over his back.&nbsp; The men jumped to their feet
+and clutched their rifles; but, though astonished at my story,
+were soon at rest again.&nbsp; After this the kettle was never
+robbed.&nbsp; Four days later we were annoyed with such a stench
+that it was a question of shifting our quarters.&nbsp; In hunting
+for the nuisance amongst the thicket of wormwood, the dead wolf
+was discovered not twenty yards from our centre.</p>
+<p>The reader would not thank me for an account of the monotonous
+drudgery, the hardships, the quarrellings, which grew worse from
+day to day after we left Fort Laramie.&nbsp; Fred and I were
+about the only two who were on speaking terms; we clung to each
+other, as a sort of forlorn security against coming
+disasters.&nbsp; Gradually it was dawning on me that, under the
+existing circumstances, the fulfilment of my hopes would be (as
+Fred had predicted) an impossibility; and that to persist in the
+attempt to realise them was to court destruction.&nbsp; As yet, I
+said nothing of this to him.&nbsp; Perhaps I was ashamed
+to.&nbsp; Perhaps I secretly acknowledged to myself that he had
+been wiser than I, and that my stubbornness was responsible for
+the life itself of every one of the party.</p>
+<p>Doubtless thoughts akin to these must often have haunted the
+mind of my companion; but he never murmured; only uttered a hasty
+objurgation when troubles reached a climax, and invariably ended
+with a burst of cheery laughter which only the sulkiest could
+resist.&nbsp; It was after a day of severe trials he proposed
+that we should go off by ourselves for a couple of nights in
+search of game, of which we were much in need.&nbsp; The men were
+easily persuaded to halt and rest.&nbsp; Samson had become a sort
+of nonentity.&nbsp; Dysentery had terribly reduced his strength,
+and with it such intelligence as he could boast of.&nbsp; We
+started at daybreak, right glad to be alone together and away
+from the penal servitude to which we were condemned.&nbsp; We
+made for the Sweetwater, not very far from the foot of the South
+Pass, where antelope and black-tailed deer abounded.&nbsp; We
+failed, however, to get near them&mdash;stalk after stalk
+miscarried.</p>
+<p>Disappointed and tired, we were looking out for some snug
+little hollow where we could light a fire without its being seen
+by the Indians, when, just as we found what we wanted, an
+antelope trotted up to a brow to inspect us.&nbsp; I had a fairly
+good shot at him and missed.&nbsp; This disheartened us
+both.&nbsp; Meat was the one thing we now sorely needed to save
+the rapidly diminishing supply of hams.&nbsp; Fred said nothing,
+but I saw by his look how this trifling accident helped to
+depress him.&nbsp; I was ready to cry with vexation.&nbsp; My
+rifle was my pride, the stag of my life&mdash;my <i>alter
+ego</i>.&nbsp; It was never out of my hands; every day I
+practised at prairie dogs, at sage hens, at a mark even if there
+was no game.&nbsp; A few days before we got to Laramie I had
+killed, right and left, two wild ducks, the second on the wing;
+and now, when so much depended on it, I could not hit a thing as
+big as a donkey.&nbsp; The fact is, I was the worse for
+illness.&nbsp; I had constant returns of fever, with bad
+shivering fits, which did not improve the steadiness of
+one&rsquo;s hand.&nbsp; However, we managed to get a
+supper.&nbsp; While we were examining the spot where the antelope
+had stood, a leveret jumped up, and I knocked him over with my
+remaining barrel.&nbsp; We fried him in the one tin plate we had
+brought with us, and thought it the most delicious dish we had
+had for weeks.</p>
+<p>As we lay side by side, smoke curling peacefully from our
+pipes, we chatted far into the night, of other days&mdash;of
+Cambridge, of our college friends, of London, of the opera, of
+balls, of women&mdash;the last a fruitful subject&mdash;and of
+the future.&nbsp; I was vastly amused at his sudden outburst as
+some start of one of the horses picketed close to us reminded us
+of the actual present.&nbsp; &lsquo;If ever I get out of this
+d&mdash;d mess,&rsquo; he exclaimed, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll never go
+anywhere without my own French cook.&rsquo;&nbsp; He kept his
+word, to the end of his life, I believe.</p>
+<p>It was a delightful repose, a complete forgetting, for a night
+at any rate, of all impending care.&nbsp; Each was cheered and
+strengthened for the work to come.&nbsp; The spirit of
+enterprise, the love of adventure restored for the moment,
+believed itself a match for come what would.&nbsp; The very
+animals seemed invigorated by the rest and the abundance of rich
+grass spreading as far as we could see.&nbsp; The morning was
+bright and cool.&nbsp; A delicious bath in the Sweetwater, a
+breakfast on fried ham and coffee, and once more in our saddles
+on the way back to camp, we felt (or fancied that we felt)
+prepared for anything.</p>
+<p>That is just what we were not.&nbsp; Samson and the men,
+meeting with no game where we had left them, had moved on that
+afternoon in search of better hunting grounds.&nbsp; The result
+was that when we overtook them, we found five mules up to their
+necks in a muddy creek.&nbsp; The packs were sunk to the bottom,
+and the animals nearly drowned or strangled.&nbsp; Fred and I
+rushed to the rescue.&nbsp; At once we cut the ropes which tied
+them together; and, setting the men to pull at tails or heads,
+succeeded at last in extricating them.</p>
+<p>Our new-born vigour was nipped in the bud.&nbsp; We were all
+drenched to the skin.&nbsp; Two packs containing the miserable
+remains of our wardrobe, Fred&rsquo;s and mine, were lost.&nbsp;
+The catastrophe produced a good deal of bad language and bad
+blood.&nbsp; Translated into English it came to this: &lsquo;They
+had trusted to us, taking it for granted we knew what we were
+about.&nbsp; What business had we to &ldquo;boss&rdquo; the party
+if we were as ignorant as the mules?&nbsp; We had guaranteed to
+lead them through to California [!] and had brought them into
+this &ldquo;almighty fix&rdquo; to slave like niggers and to
+starve.&rsquo;&nbsp; There was just truth enough in the Jeremiad
+to make it sting.&nbsp; It would not have been prudent, nay, not
+very safe, to return curse for curse.&nbsp; But the breaking
+point was reached at last.&nbsp; That night I, for one, had not
+much sleep.&nbsp; I was soaked from head to foot, and had not a
+dry rag for a change.&nbsp; Alternate fits of fever and rigor
+would alone have kept me awake; but renewed ponderings upon the
+situation and confirmed convictions of the peremptory necessity
+of breaking up the party, forced me to the conclusion that this
+was the right, the only, course to adopt.</p>
+<p>For another twenty-four hours I brooded over my plans.&nbsp;
+Two main difficulties confronted me: the announcement to the men,
+who might mutiny; and the parting with Fred, which I dreaded far
+the most of the two.&nbsp; Would he not think it treacherous to
+cast him off after the sacrifices he had made for me?&nbsp;
+Implicitly we were as good as pledged to stand by each other to
+the last gasp.&nbsp; Was it not mean and dastardly to run away
+from the battle because it was dangerous to fight it out?&nbsp;
+Had friendship no claims superior to personal safety?&nbsp; Was
+not my decision prompted by sheer selfishness?&nbsp; Could
+anything be said in its defence?</p>
+<p>Yes; sentiment must yield to reason.&nbsp; To go on was
+certain death for all.&nbsp; It was not too late to return, for
+those who wished it.&nbsp; And when I had demonstrated, as I
+could easily do, the impossibility of continuance, each one could
+decide for himself.&nbsp; The men were as reckless as they were
+ignorant.&nbsp; However they might execrate us, we were still
+their natural leaders: their blame, indeed, implied they felt
+it.&nbsp; No sentimental argument could obscure this truth, and
+this conviction was decisive.</p>
+<p>The next night and the day after were, from a moral point of
+view, the most trying perhaps, of the whole journey.&nbsp; We had
+halted on a wide, open plain.&nbsp; Due west of us in the far
+distance rose the snowy peaks of the mountains.&nbsp; And the
+prairie on that side terminated in bluffs, rising gradually to
+higher spurs of the range.&nbsp; When the packs were thrown off,
+and the men had turned, as usual, to help themselves to supper, I
+drew Fred aside and imparted my resolution to him.&nbsp; He
+listened to it calmly&mdash;much more so than I had
+expected.&nbsp; Yet it was easy to see by his unusual seriousness
+that he fully weighed the gravity of the purpose.&nbsp; All he
+said at the time was, &lsquo;Let us talk it over after the men
+are asleep.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We did so.&nbsp; We placed our saddles side by side&mdash;they
+were our regular pillows&mdash;and, covering ourselves with the
+same blanket, well out of ear-shot, discussed the proposition
+from every practical aspect.&nbsp; He now combated my scheme, as
+I always supposed he would, by laying stress upon our bond of
+friendship.&nbsp; This was met on my part by the arguments
+already set forth.&nbsp; He then proposed an amendment, which
+almost upset my decision.&nbsp; &lsquo;It is true,&rsquo; he
+admitted, &lsquo;that we cannot get through as we are going now;
+the provisions will not hold out another month, and it is useless
+to attempt to control the men.&nbsp; But there are two ways out
+of the difficulty: we can reach Salt Lake City and winter there;
+or, if you are bent on going to California, why shouldn&rsquo;t
+we take Jacob and Nelson (the Canadian), pay off the rest of the
+brutes, and travel together,&mdash;us four?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Whether &lsquo;das ewig Wirkende&rsquo; that shapes our ends
+be beneficent or malignant is not easy to tell, till after the
+event.&nbsp; Certain it is that sometimes we seem impelled by
+latent forces stronger than ourselves&mdash;if by self be meant
+one&rsquo;s will.&nbsp; We cannot give a reason for all we do;
+the infinite chain of cause and effect, which has had no
+beginning and will have no end, is part of the
+reckoning,&mdash;with this, finite minds can never grapple.</p>
+<p>It was destined (my stubbornness was none of my making) that I
+should remain obdurate.&nbsp; Fred&rsquo;s last resource was an
+attempt to persuade me (he really believed: I, too, thought it
+likely) that the men would show fight, annex beasts and
+provisions, and leave us to shift for ourselves.&nbsp; There were
+six of them, armed as we were, to us three, or rather us two, for
+Samson was a negligible quantity.&nbsp; &lsquo;We shall
+see,&rsquo; said I; and by degrees we dropped asleep.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Before</span> the first streak of dawn I
+was up and off to hunt for the horses and mules, which were now
+allowed to roam in search of feed.&nbsp; On my return, the men
+were afoot, taking it easy as usual.&nbsp; Some artemisia bushes
+were ablaze for the morning&rsquo;s coffee.&nbsp; No one but Fred
+had a suspicion of the coming crisis.&nbsp; I waited till each
+one had lighted his pipe; then quietly requested the lot to
+gather the provision packs together, as it was desirable to take
+stock, and make some estimate of demand and supply.&nbsp; Nothing
+loth, the men obeyed.&nbsp; &lsquo;Now,&rsquo; said I,
+&lsquo;turn all the hams out of their bags, and let us see how
+long they will last.&rsquo;&nbsp; When done: &lsquo;What!&rsquo;
+I exclaimed, with well&mdash;feigned dismay, &lsquo;that&rsquo;s
+not all, surely?&nbsp; There are not enough here to last a
+fortnight.&nbsp; Where are the rest?&nbsp;&nbsp; No more?&nbsp;
+Why, we shall starve.&rsquo;&nbsp; The men&rsquo;s faces fell;
+but never a murmur, nor a sound.&nbsp; &lsquo;Turn out the
+biscuit bags.&nbsp; Here, spread these empty ham sacks, and pour
+the biscuit on to them.&nbsp; Don&rsquo;t lose any of the
+dust.&nbsp; We shall want every crumb, mouldy or
+not.&rsquo;&nbsp; The gloomy faces grew gloomier.&nbsp;
+What&rsquo;s to be done?&rsquo;&nbsp; Silence.&nbsp; &lsquo;The
+first thing, as I think all will agree, is to divide what is left
+into nine equal shares&mdash;that&rsquo;s our number
+now&mdash;and let each one take his ninth part, to do what he
+likes with.&nbsp; You yourselves shall portion out the shares,
+and then draw lots for choice.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>This presentation of the inevitable compelled
+submission.&nbsp; The whole, amounting to twelve light mule packs
+(it had been fifteen fairly heavy ones after our purchases at
+Fort Laramie), was still a goodly bulk to look at.&nbsp; The nine
+peddling dividends, when seen singly, were not quite what the
+shareholders had anticipated.</p>
+<p>Why were they still silent?&nbsp; Why did they not rebel, and
+visit their wrath upon the directors?&nbsp; Because they knew in
+their hearts that we had again and again predicted the
+catastrophe.&nbsp; They knew we had warned them scores and scores
+of times of the consequences of their wilful and reckless
+improvidence.&nbsp; They were stupefied, aghast, at the ruin they
+had brought upon themselves.&nbsp; To turn upon us, to murder us,
+and divide our three portions between them, would have been
+suicidal.&nbsp; In the first place, our situation was as
+desperate as theirs.&nbsp; We should fight for our lives; and it
+was not certain, in fact it was improbable, that either Jacob or
+William would side against us.&nbsp; Without our aid&mdash;they
+had not a compass among them&mdash;they were helpless.&nbsp; The
+instinct of self-preservation bade them trust to our good
+will.</p>
+<p>So far, then, the game was won.&nbsp; Almost humbly they asked
+what we advised them to do.&nbsp; The answer was prompt and
+decisive: &lsquo;Get back to Fort Laramie as fast as you
+can.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;But how?&nbsp; Were they to walk?&nbsp;
+They couldn&rsquo;t carry their packs.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Certainly not; we were English gentlemen, and would behave
+as such.&nbsp; Each man should have his own mule; each, into the
+bargain, should receive his pay according to
+agreement.&rsquo;&nbsp; They were agreeably surprised.&nbsp; I
+then very strongly counselled them not to travel together.&nbsp;
+Past experience proved how dangerous this must be.&nbsp; To avoid
+the temptation, even the chance, of this happening, the surest
+and safest plan would be for each party to start separately, and
+not leave till the last was out of sight.&nbsp; For my part I had
+resolved to go alone.</p>
+<p>It was a melancholy day for everyone.&nbsp; And to fill the
+cup of wretchedness to overflowing, the rain, beginning with a
+drizzle, ended with a downpour.&nbsp; Consultations took place
+between men who had not spoken to one another for weeks.&nbsp;
+Fred offered to go on, at all events to Salt Lake City, if Nelson
+the Canadian and Jacob would go with him.&nbsp; Both eagerly
+closed with the offer.&nbsp; They would be so much nearer to the
+&lsquo;diggings,&rsquo; and were, moreover, fond of their
+leader.&nbsp; Louis would go back to Fort Laramie.&nbsp; Potter
+and Morris would cross the mountains, and strike south for the
+Mormon city if their provisions and mules threatened to give
+out.&nbsp; William would try his luck alone in the same
+way.&nbsp; And there remained no one but Samson, undecided and
+unprovided for.&nbsp; The strong weak man sat on the ground in
+the steady rain, smoking pipe after pipe; watching first the
+preparations, then the departures, one after the other, at
+intervals of an hour or so.&nbsp; First the singles, then the
+pair; then, late in the afternoon, Fred and his two henchmen.</p>
+<p>It is needless to depict our separation.&nbsp; I do not think
+either expected ever to see the other again.&nbsp; Yet we parted
+after the manner of trueborn Britons, as if we should meet again
+in a day or two.&nbsp; &lsquo;Well, good-bye, old fellow.&nbsp;
+Good luck.&nbsp; What a beastly day, isn&rsquo;t it?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+But emotions are only partially suppressed by subduing their
+expression.&nbsp; The hearts of both were full.</p>
+<p>I watched the gradual disappearance of my dear friend, and
+thought with a sigh of my loss in Jacob and Nelson, the two best
+men of the band.&nbsp; It was a comfort to reflect that they had
+joined Fred.&nbsp; Jacob especially was full of resource; Nelson
+of energy and determination.&nbsp; And the courage and cool
+judgment of Fred, and his presence of mind in emergencies, were
+all pledges for the safety of the trio.</p>
+<p>As they vanished behind a distant bluff, I turned to the
+sodden wreck of the deserted camp, and began actively to pack my
+mules.&nbsp; Samson seemed paralysed by imbecility.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;What had I better do?&rsquo; he presently asked, gazing
+with dull eyes at his two mules and two horses.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t care what you do.&nbsp; It is nothing to
+me.&nbsp; You had better pack your mules before it is dark, or
+you may lose them.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I may as well go with you, I think.&nbsp; I don&rsquo;t
+care much about going back to Laramie.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>He looked miserable.&nbsp; I was so.&nbsp; I had held out
+under a long and heavy strain.&nbsp; Parting with Fred had, for
+the moment, staggered my resolution.&nbsp; I was sick at
+heart.&nbsp; The thought of packing two mules twice a day,
+single-handed, weakened as I was by illness, appalled me.&nbsp;
+And though ashamed of the perversity which had led me to fling
+away the better and accept the worse, I yielded.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Very well then.&nbsp; Make haste.&nbsp; Get your traps
+together.&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll look after the horses.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>It took more than an hour before the four mules were
+ready.&nbsp; Like a fool, I left Samson to tie the led horses in
+a string, while I did the same with the mules.&nbsp; He started,
+leading the horses.&nbsp; I followed with the mule train some
+minutes later.&nbsp; Our troubles soon began.&nbsp; The two spare
+horses were nearly as wild as the mules.&nbsp; I had not got far
+when I discerned through the rain a kicking and plunging and
+general entanglement of the lot ahead of me.&nbsp; Samson had
+fastened the horses together with slip knots; and they were all
+doing their best to strangle one another and themselves.&nbsp; To
+leave the mules was dangerous, yet two men were required to
+release the maddened horses.&nbsp; At last the labour was
+accomplished; and once more the van pushed on with distinct
+instructions as to the line of march, it being now nearly
+dark.&nbsp; The mules had naturally vanished in the gloom; and by
+the time I was again in my saddle, Samson was&mdash;I knew not
+where.&nbsp; On and on I travelled, far into the night.&nbsp; But
+failing to overtake my companion, and taking for granted that he
+had missed his way, I halted when I reached a stream, threw off
+the packs, let the animals loose, rolled myself in my blanket,
+and shut my eyes upon a trying day.</p>
+<p>Nothing happens but the unexpected.&nbsp; Daylight woke
+me.&nbsp; Samson, still in his rugs, was but a couple of hundred
+yards further up the stream.&nbsp; In the afternoon of the third
+day we fell in with William.&nbsp; He had cut himself a long
+willow wand and was fishing for trout, of which he had caught
+several in the upper reaches of the Sweetwater.&nbsp; He threw
+down his rod, hastened to welcome our arrival, and at once begged
+leave to join us.&nbsp; He was already sick of solitude.&nbsp; He
+had come across Potter and Morris, who had left him that
+morning.&nbsp; They had been visited by wolves in the night, (I
+too had been awakened by their howlings,) and poor William did
+not relish the thought of the mountains alone, with his one
+little white mule&mdash;which he called
+&lsquo;Cream.&rsquo;&nbsp; He promised to do his utmost to help
+with the packing, and &lsquo;not cost us a cent.&rsquo;&nbsp; I
+did not tell him how my heart yearned towards him, and how
+miserably my courage had oozed away since we parted, but made a
+favour of his request, and granted it.&nbsp; The gain, so long as
+it lasted, was incalculable.</p>
+<p>The summit of the South Pass is between 8000 and 9000 feet
+above the level of the Gulf of Mexico.&nbsp; The Pass itself is
+many miles broad, undulating on the surface, but not
+abruptly.&nbsp; The peaks of the Wind River Chain, immediately to
+the north, are covered with snow; and as we gradually got into
+the misty atmosphere we felt the cold severely.&nbsp; The
+lariats&mdash;made of raw hide&mdash;became rods of ice; and the
+poor animals, whose backs were masses of festering raws, suffered
+terribly from exposure.&nbsp; It was interesting to come upon
+proofs of the &lsquo;divide&rsquo; within a mile of the most
+elevated point in the pass.&nbsp; From the Hudson to this spot,
+all waters had flowed eastward; now suddenly every little rivulet
+was making for the Pacific.</p>
+<p>The descent is as gradual as the rise.&nbsp; On the first day
+of it we lost two animals, a mule and Samson&rsquo;s spare
+horse.&nbsp; The latter, never equal to the heavy weight of its
+owner, could go no further; and the dreadful state of the
+mule&rsquo;s back rendered packing a brutality.&nbsp; Morris and
+Potter, who passed us a few days later, told us they had seen the
+horse dead, and partially eaten by wolves; the mule they had shot
+to put it out of its misery.</p>
+<p>In due course we reached Fort Hall, a trading post of the
+Hudson&rsquo;s Bay Company, some 200 miles to the north-west of
+the South Pass.&nbsp; Sir George Simpson, Chairman of that
+Company, had given me letters, which ensured the assistance of
+its servants.&nbsp; It was indeed a rest and a luxury to spend a
+couple of idle days here, and revive one&rsquo;s dim recollection
+of fresh eggs and milk.&nbsp; But we were already in
+September.&nbsp; Our animals were in a deplorable condition; and
+with the exception of a little flour, a small supply of dried
+meat, and a horse for Samson, Mr. Grant, the trader, had nothing
+to sell us.&nbsp; He told us, moreover, that before we reached
+Fort Bois&eacute;, their next station, 300 miles further on, we
+had to traverse a great rocky desert, where we might travel
+four-and-twenty hours after leaving water, before we met with it
+again.&nbsp; There was nothing for it but to press onwards.&nbsp;
+It was too late now to cross the Sierra Nevada range, which lay
+between us and California; and with the miserable equipment left
+to us, it was all we could hope to do to reach Oregon before the
+passage of the Blue Mountains was blocked by the winter&rsquo;s
+snow.</p>
+<p>Mr. Grant&rsquo;s warnings were verified to the foot of the
+letter.&nbsp; Great were our sufferings, and almost worse were
+those of the poor animals, from the want of water.&nbsp; Then,
+too, unlike the desert of Sahara, where the pebbly sand affords a
+solid footing, the soil here is the calcined powder of volcanic
+d&eacute;bris, so fine that every step in it is up to one&rsquo;s
+ankles; while clouds of it rose, choking the nostrils, and
+covering one from head to heel.&nbsp; Here is a passage from my
+journal:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Road rocky in places, but generally deep in the finest
+floury sand.&nbsp; A strong and biting wind blew dead in our
+teeth, smothering us in dust, which filled every pore.&nbsp;
+William presented such a ludicrous appearance that Samson and I
+went into fits over it.&nbsp; An old felt hat, fastened on by a
+red cotton handkerchief, tied under his chin, partly hid his
+lantern-jawed visage; this, naturally of a dolorous cast, was
+screwed into wrinkled contortions by its efforts to resist the
+piercing gale.&nbsp; The dust, as white as flour, had settled
+thick upon him, the extremity of his nasal organ being the only
+rosy spot left; its pearly drops lodged upon a chin almost as
+prominent.&nbsp; His shoulders were shrugged to a level with his
+head, and his long legs dangled from the back of little
+&ldquo;Cream&rdquo; till they nearly touched the
+ground.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We laughed at him, it is true, but he was so good-natured, so
+patient, so simple-minded, and, now and then, when he and I were
+alone, so sentimental and confidential about Mary, and the
+fortune he meant to bring her back, that I had a sort of maternal
+liking for him; and even a vicarious affection for Mary herself,
+the colour of whose eyes and hair&mdash;nay, whose weight
+avoirdupois&mdash;I was now accurately acquainted with.&nbsp; No,
+the honest fellow had not quite the grit of a
+&lsquo;Leatherstocking.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>One night, when we had halted after dark, he went down to a
+gully (we were not then in the desert) to look for water for our
+tea.&nbsp; Samson, armed with the hatchet, was chopping
+wood.&nbsp; I stayed to arrange the packs, and spread the
+blankets.&nbsp; Suddenly I heard a voice from the bottom of the
+ravine, crying out, &lsquo;Bring the guns for God&rsquo;s
+sake!&nbsp; Make haste!&nbsp; Bring the guns!&rsquo;&nbsp; I
+rushed about in the dark, tumbling over the saddles, but could
+nowhere lay my hands on a rifle.&nbsp; Still the cry was for
+&lsquo;Guns!&rsquo;&nbsp; My own, a muzzle-loader, was
+discharged, but a rifle none the less.&nbsp; Snatching up this,
+and one of my pistols, which, by the way, had fallen into the
+river a few hours before, I shouted for Samson, and ran headlong
+to the rescue.&nbsp; Before I got to the bottom of the hill I
+heard groans, which sounded like the last of poor William.&nbsp;
+I holloaed to know where he was, and was answered in a voice that
+discovered nothing worse than terror.</p>
+<p>It appeared that he had met a grizzly bear drinking at the
+very spot where he was about to fill his can; that he had bolted,
+and the bear had pursued him; but that he had &lsquo;cobbled the
+bar with rocks,&rsquo; had hit it in the eye, or nose, he was not
+sure which, and thus narrowly escaped with his life.&nbsp; I
+could not help laughing at his story, though an examination of
+the place next morning so far verified it, that his footprints
+and the bear&rsquo;s were clearly intermingled on the muddy shore
+of the stream.&nbsp; To make up for his fright, he was extremely
+courageous when restored by tea and a pipe.&nbsp; &lsquo;If we
+would follow the trail with him, he&rsquo;d go right slick in for
+her anyhow.&nbsp; If his rifle didn&rsquo;t shoot plum,
+he&rsquo;d a bowie as &rsquo;ud rise her hide, and no
+mistake.&nbsp; He&rsquo;d be darn&rsquo;d if he didn&rsquo;t make
+meat of that bar in the morning.&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">We</span> were now steering by
+compass.&nbsp; Our course was nearly north-west.&nbsp; This we
+kept, as well as the formation of the country and the
+watercourses would permit.&nbsp; After striking the great
+Shoshone, or Snake River, which eventually becomes the Columbia,
+we had to follow its banks in a southerly direction.&nbsp; These
+are often supported by basaltic columns several hundred feet in
+height.&nbsp; Where that was the case, though close to water, we
+suffered most from want of it.&nbsp; And cold as were the
+nights&mdash;it was the middle of September&mdash;the sun was
+intensely hot.&nbsp; Every day, every mile, we were hoping for a
+change&mdash;not merely for access to the water, but that we
+might again pursue our westerly course.&nbsp; The scenery was
+sometimes very striking.&nbsp; The river hereabouts varies from
+one hundred to nearly three hundred yards in width; sometimes
+rushing through narrow gorges, sometimes descending in continuous
+rapids, sometimes spread out in smooth shallow reaches.&nbsp; It
+was for one of these that we were in search, for only at such
+points was the river passable.</p>
+<p>It was night-time when we came to one of the great
+falls.&nbsp; We were able here to get at water; and having halted
+through the day, on account of the heat, kept on while our
+animals were refreshed.&nbsp; We had to ascend the banks again,
+and wind along the brink of the precipice.&nbsp; From this the
+view was magnificent.&nbsp; The moon shone brightly upon the
+dancing waves hundreds of feet below us, and upon the rapids
+which extended as far as we could see.&nbsp; The deep shade of
+the high cliffs contrasted in its impenetrable darkness with the
+brilliancy of the silvery foam.&nbsp; The vast plain which we
+overlooked, fading in the soft light, rose gradually into a low
+range of distant hills.&nbsp; The incessant roar of the rapids,
+and the desert stillness of all else around, though they lulled
+one&rsquo;s senses, yet awed one with a feeling of insignificance
+and impotence in the presence of such ruthless force, amid such
+serene and cold indifference.&nbsp; Unbidden, the consciousness
+was there, that for some of us the coming struggle with those
+mighty waters was fraught with life or death.</p>
+<p>At last we came upon a broad stretch of the river which seemed
+to offer the possibilities we sought for.&nbsp; Rather late in
+the afternoon we decided to cross here, notwithstanding
+William&rsquo;s strong reluctance to make the venture.&nbsp; Part
+of his unwillingness was, I knew, due to apprehension, part to
+his love of fishing.&nbsp; Ever since we came down upon the Snake
+River we had seen quantities of salmon.&nbsp; He persisted in the
+belief that they were to be caught with the rod.&nbsp; The day
+before, all three of us had waded into the river, and flogged it
+patiently for a couple of hours, while heavy fish were tumbling
+about above and below us.&nbsp; We caught plenty of trout, but
+never pricked a salmon.&nbsp; Here the broad reach was alive with
+them, and William begged hard to stop for the afternoon and
+pursue the gentle sport.&nbsp; It was not to be.</p>
+<p>The tactics were as usual.&nbsp; Samson led the way, holding
+the lariat to which the two spare horses were attached.&nbsp; In
+crossing streams the mules would always follow the horses.&nbsp;
+They were accordingly let loose, and left to do so.&nbsp; William
+and I brought up the rear, driving before us any mule that
+lagged.&nbsp; My journal records the sequel:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;At about equal distances from each other and the main
+land were two small islands.&nbsp; The first of these we reached
+without trouble.&nbsp; The second was also gained; but the packs
+were wetted, the current being exceedingly rapid.&nbsp; The space
+remaining to be forded was at least two hundred yards; and the
+stream so strong that I was obliged to turn my mare&rsquo;s head
+up it to prevent her being carried off her legs.&nbsp; While thus
+resting, William with difficulty,&mdash;the water being over his
+knees,&mdash;sidled up to me.&nbsp; He wanted to know if I still
+meant to cross.&nbsp; For all answer, I laughed at him.&nbsp; In
+truth I had not the smallest misgiving.&nbsp; Strong as was the
+current, the smooth rocky bottom gave a good foothold to the
+animals; and, judging by the great width of the river, there was
+no reason to suppose that its shallowness would not continue.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;We paused for a few minutes to observe Samson, who was
+now within forty or fifty yards of the opposite bank; and, as I
+concluded, past all danger.&nbsp; Suddenly, to the astonishment
+of both of us, he and his horse and the led animals disappeared
+under water; the next instant they were struggling and swimming
+for the bank.&nbsp; Tied together as they were, there was a deal
+of snorting and plunging; and Samson (with his habitual
+ingenuity) had fastened the lariat either to himself or his
+saddle; so that he was several times dragged under before they
+all got to the bank in safety.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;These events were watched by William with intense
+anxiety.&nbsp; With a pitiable look of terror he assured me he
+could not swim a yard; it was useless for him to try to cross; he
+would turn back, and find his way to Salt Lake City.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;But,&rdquo; I remonstrated, &ldquo;if you turn
+back, you will certainly starve; everything we possess is over
+there with the mules; your blanket, even your rifle, are with the
+packs.&nbsp; It is impossible to get the mules back again.&nbsp;
+Give little Cream her head, sit still in your saddle, and
+she&rsquo;ll carry you through that bit of deep water with
+ease.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;I can live by fishing,&rdquo; he plaintively
+answered.&nbsp; He still held his long rod, and the incongruity
+of it added to the pathos of his despair.&nbsp; I reminded him of
+a bad river we had before crossed, and how his mule had swum it
+safely with him on her back.&nbsp; I promised to keep close to
+him, and help him if need were, though I was confident if he left
+everything to Cream there would be no danger.&nbsp; &ldquo;Well,
+if he must, he must.&nbsp; But, if anything happened to him,
+would I write and tell Mary?&nbsp; I knew her address; leastways,
+if I didn&rsquo;t, it was in his bag on the brown mule.&nbsp; And
+tell her I done my best.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The water was so clear one could see every crack in the
+rock beneath.&nbsp; Fortunately, I took the precaution to strip
+to my shirt; fastened everything, even my socks, to the saddle;
+then advanced cautiously ahead of William to the brink of the
+chasm.&nbsp; We were, in fact, upon the edge of a
+precipice.&nbsp; One could see to an inch where the gulf
+began.&nbsp; As my mare stepped into it I slipped off my saddle;
+when she rose I laid hold of her tail, and in two or three
+minutes should have been safe ashore.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Looking back to see how it had fared with William, I at
+once perceived his danger.&nbsp; He had clasped his mule tightly
+round the neck with his arms, and round the body with his long
+legs.&nbsp; She was plunging violently to get rid of her
+load.&nbsp; Already the pair were forty or fifty yards below
+me.&nbsp; Instantly I turned and swam to his assistance.&nbsp;
+The struggles of the mule rendered it dangerous to get at
+him.&nbsp; When I did so he was partially dazed; his hold was
+relaxed.&nbsp; Dragging him away from the hoofs of the animal, I
+begged him to put his hands on my shoulders or hips.&nbsp; He was
+past any effort of the kind.&nbsp; I do not think he heard me
+even.&nbsp; He seemed hardly conscious of anything.&nbsp; His
+long wet hair plastered over the face concealed his
+features.&nbsp; Beyond stretching out his arms, like an infant
+imploring help, he made no effort to save himself.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I seized him firmly by the collar,&mdash;unfortunately,
+with my right hand, leaving only my left to stem the
+torrent.&nbsp; But how to keep his face out of the water?&nbsp;
+At every stroke I was losing strength; we were being swept away,
+for him, to hopeless death.&nbsp; At length I touched bottom, got
+both hands under his head, and held it above the surface.&nbsp;
+He still breathed, still puffed the hair from his lips.&nbsp;
+There was still a hope, if I could but maintain my footing.&nbsp;
+But, alas! each instant I was losing ground&mdash;each instant I
+was driven back, foot by foot, towards the gulf.&nbsp; The water,
+at first only up to my chest, was now up to my shoulders, now up
+to my neck.&nbsp; My strength was gone.&nbsp; My arms ached till
+they could bear no more.&nbsp; They sank involuntarily.&nbsp;
+William glided from my hands.&nbsp; He fell like lead till his
+back lay stretched upon the rock.&nbsp; His arms were spread out,
+so that his body formed a cross.&nbsp; I paddled above it in the
+clear, smooth water, gazing at his familiar face, till two or
+three large bubbles burst upon the surface; then, hardly knowing
+what I was doing, floated mechanically from the trapper&rsquo;s
+grave.</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">. . . . . . .</p>
+<p>&lsquo;My turn was now to come.&nbsp; At first, the right, or
+western, bank being within sixty or seventy yards, being also my
+proper goal, I struck out for it with mere eagerness to land as
+soon as possible.&nbsp; The attempt proved unsuccessful.&nbsp;
+Very well, then, I would take it quietly&mdash;not try to cross
+direct, but swim on gently, keeping my head that way.&nbsp; By
+degrees I got within twenty yards of the bank, was counting
+joyfully on the rest which a few more strokes would bring me,
+when&mdash;wsh&mdash;came a current, and swept me right into the
+middle of the stream again.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I began to be alarmed.&nbsp; I must get out of this
+somehow or another; better on the wrong side than not at
+all.&nbsp; So I let myself go, and made for the shore we had
+started from.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Same fate.&nbsp; When well over to the left bank I was
+carried out again.&nbsp; What! was I too to be drowned?&nbsp; It
+began to look like it.&nbsp; I was getting cold, numb,
+exhausted.&nbsp; And&mdash;listen!&nbsp; What is that distant
+sound?&nbsp; Rapids?&nbsp; Yes, rapids.&nbsp; My flannel shirt
+stuck to, and impeded me; I would have it off.&nbsp; I got it
+over my head, but hadn&rsquo;t unbuttoned the studs&mdash;it
+stuck, partly over my head.&nbsp; I tugged to tear it off.&nbsp;
+Got a drop of water into my windpipe; was choking; tugged till I
+got the shirt right again.&nbsp; Then tried floating on my
+back&mdash;to cough and get my breath.&nbsp; Heard the rapids
+much louder.&nbsp; It was getting dark now.&nbsp; The sun was
+setting in glorious red and gold.&nbsp; I noticed this, noticed
+the salmon rolling like porpoises around me, and thought of
+William with his rod.&nbsp; Strangest of all, for I had not
+noticed her before, little Cream was still struggling for dear
+life not a hundred yards below me; sometimes sinking, sometimes
+reappearing, but on her way to join her master, as surely as I
+thought that I was.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;In my distress, the predominant thought was the
+loneliness of my fate, the loneliness of my body after
+death.&nbsp; There was not a living thing to see me die.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;For the first time I felt, not fear, but loss of
+hope.&nbsp; I could only beat the water with feeble and futile
+splashes.&nbsp; I was completely at its mercy.&nbsp; And&mdash;as
+we all then do&mdash;I prayed&mdash;prayed for strength, prayed
+that I might be spared.&nbsp; But my strength was gone.&nbsp; My
+legs dropped powerless in the water.&nbsp; I could but just keep
+my nose or mouth above it.&nbsp; My legs sank, and my
+feet&mdash;touched bottom.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;In an instant, as if from an electric shock, a flush of
+energy suffused my brain and limbs.&nbsp; I stood upright in an
+almost tranquil pool.&nbsp; An eddy had lodged me on a
+sandbank.&nbsp; Between it and the land was scarcely twenty
+yards.&nbsp; Through this gap the stream ran strong as
+ever.&nbsp; I did not want to rest; I did not pause to
+think.&nbsp; In I dashed; and a single spurt carried me to the
+shore.&nbsp; I fell on my knees, and with a grateful heart poured
+out gratitude for my deliverance.</p>
+<p style="text-align: center">. . . . . . .</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I was on the wrong side, the side from which we
+started.&nbsp; The river was yet to cross.&nbsp; I had not tasted
+food since our early meal.&nbsp; How long I had been swimming I
+know not, but it was dark now, starlight at least.&nbsp; The
+nights were bitterly cold, and my only clothing a wet flannel
+shirt.&nbsp; And oh! the craving for companionship, someone to
+talk to&mdash;even Samson.&nbsp; This was a stronger need than
+warmth, or food, or clothing; so strong that it impelled me to
+try again.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The poor sandy soil grew nothing but briars and small
+cactuses.&nbsp; In the dark I kept treading on the little prickly
+plants, but I hurried on till I came in sight of Samson&rsquo;s
+fire.&nbsp; I could see his huge form as it intercepted the
+comfortable blaze.&nbsp; I pictured him making his tea, broiling
+some of William&rsquo;s trout, and spreading his things before
+the fire to dry.&nbsp; I could see the animals moving around the
+glow.&nbsp; It was my home.&nbsp; How I yearned for it!&nbsp; How
+should I reach it, if ever?&nbsp; In this frame of mind the
+attempt was irresistible.&nbsp; I started as near as I could from
+opposite the two islands.&nbsp; As on horseback, I got pretty
+easily to the first island.&nbsp; Beyond this I was taken off my
+feet by the stream; and only with difficulty did I once more
+regain the land.</p>
+<p>My next object was to communicate with Samson.&nbsp; By
+putting both hands to my mouth and shouting with all my force I
+made him hear.&nbsp; I could see him get up and come to the
+water&rsquo;s edge; though he could not see me, his stentorian
+voice reached me plainly.&nbsp; His first words were:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Is that you, William?&nbsp; Coke is
+drowned.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I corrected him, and thus replied:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Do you remember a bend near some willows, where
+you wanted to cross yesterday?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;About two hours higher up the river?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;I remember.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Would you know the place again?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Are you sure?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Yes, yes.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;You will see me by daylight in the
+morning.&nbsp; When I start, you will take my mare, my clothes,
+and some food; make for that place and wait till I come.&nbsp; I
+will cross there.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;All right.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Keep me in sight as long as you can.&nbsp;
+Don&rsquo;t forget the food.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;It will be gathered from my words that definite
+instructions were deemed necessary; and the inference&mdash;at
+least it was mine&mdash;will follow, that if a mistake were
+possible Samson would avail himself of it.&nbsp; The night was
+before me.&nbsp; The river had yet to be crossed.&nbsp; But,
+strange as it now seems to me, I had no misgivings!&nbsp; My
+heart never failed me.&nbsp; My prayer had been heard.&nbsp; I
+had been saved.&nbsp; How, I knew not.&nbsp; But this I knew, my
+trust was complete.&nbsp; I record this as a curious
+psychological occurrence; for it supported me with unfailing
+energy through the severe trial which I had yet to
+undergo.&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Our</span> experiences are little worth
+unless they teach us to reflect.&nbsp; Let us then pause to
+consider this hourly experience of human beings&mdash;this
+remarkable efficacy of prayer.&nbsp; There can hardly be a
+contemplative mind to which, with all its difficulties, the
+inquiry is not familiar.</p>
+<p>To begin with, &lsquo;To pray is to expect a
+miracle.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Prayer in its very essence,&rsquo;
+says a thoughtful writer, &lsquo;implies a belief in the possible
+intervention of a power which is above nature.&rsquo;&nbsp; How
+was it in my case?&nbsp; What was the essence of my belief?&nbsp;
+Nothing less than this: that God would have permitted the laws of
+nature, ordained by His infinite wisdom to fulfil His omniscient
+designs and pursue their natural course in accordance with His
+will, had not my request persuaded Him to suspend those laws in
+my favour.</p>
+<p>The very belief in His omniscience and omnipotence subverts
+the spirit of such a prayer.&nbsp; It is on the perfection of God
+that Malebranche bases his argument that &lsquo;Dieu n&rsquo;agit
+pas par des volont&eacute;s particuli&egrave;res.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Yet every prayer affects to interfere with the divine
+purposes.</p>
+<p>It may here be urged that the divine purposes are beyond our
+comprehension.&nbsp; God&rsquo;s purposes may, in spite of the
+inconceivability, admit the efficacy of prayer as a link in the
+chain of causation; or, as Dr. Mozely holds, it may be that
+&lsquo;a miracle is not an anomaly or irregularity, but part of
+the system of the universe.&rsquo;&nbsp; We will not entangle
+ourselves in the abstruse metaphysical problem which such
+hypotheses involve, but turn for our answer to what we do
+know&mdash;to the history of this world, to the daily life of
+man.&nbsp; If the sun rises on the evil as well as on the good,
+if the wicked &lsquo;become old, yea, are mighty in power,&rsquo;
+still, the lightning, the plague, the falling chimney-pot, smite
+the good as well as the evil.&nbsp; Even the dumb animal is not
+spared.&nbsp; &lsquo;If,&rsquo; says Huxley, &lsquo;our ears were
+sharp enough to hear all the cries of pain that are uttered in
+the earth by man and beasts we should be deafened by one
+continuous scream.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;If there are any marks at
+all of special design in creation,&rsquo; writes John Stuart
+Mill, &lsquo;one of the things most evidently designed is that a
+large proportion of all animals should pass their existence in
+tormenting and devouring other animals.&nbsp; They have been
+lavishly fitted out with the instruments for that
+purpose.&rsquo;&nbsp; Is it credible, then, that the Almighty
+Being who, as we assume, hears this continuous
+scream&mdash;animal-prayer, as we may call it&mdash;and not only
+pays no heed to it, but lavishly fits out animals with
+instruments for tormenting and devouring one another, that such a
+Being should suspend the laws of gravitation and physiology,
+should perform a miracle equal to that of arresting the
+sun&mdash;for all miracles are equipollent&mdash;simply to
+prolong the brief and useless existence of such a thing as man,
+of one man out of the myriads who shriek, and&mdash;shriek in
+vain?</p>
+<p>To pray is to expect a miracle.&nbsp; Then comes the further
+question: Is this not to expect what never yet has
+happened?&nbsp; The only proof of any miracle is the
+interpretation the witness or witnesses put upon what they have
+seen.&nbsp; (Traditional miracles&mdash;miracles that others have
+been told, that others have seen&mdash;we need not trouble our
+heads about.)&nbsp; What that proof has been worth hitherto has
+been commented upon too often to need attention here.&nbsp; Nor
+does the weakness of the evidence for miracles depend solely on
+the fact that it rests, in the first instance, on the senses,
+which may be deceived; or upon inference, which may be
+erroneous.&nbsp; It is not merely that the infallibility of human
+testimony discredits the miracles of the past.&nbsp; The
+impossibility that human knowledge, that science, can ever
+exhaust the possibilities of Nature, precludes the immediate
+reference to the Supernatural for all time.&nbsp; It is pure
+sophistry to argue, as do Canon Row and other defenders of
+miracles, that &lsquo;the laws of Nature are no more violated by
+the performance of a miracle than they are by the activities of a
+man.&rsquo;&nbsp; If these arguments of the special pleaders had
+any force at all, it would simply amount to this: &lsquo;The
+activities of man&rsquo; being a part of nature, we have no
+evidence of a supernatural being, which is the sole <i>raison
+d&rsquo;&ecirc;tre</i> of miracle.</p>
+<p>Yet thousands of men in these days who admit the force of
+these objections continue, in spite of them, to pray.&nbsp;
+Huxley, the foremost of &lsquo;agnostics,&rsquo; speaks with the
+utmost respect of his friend Charles Kingsley&rsquo;s conviction
+from experience of the efficacy of prayer.&nbsp; And Huxley
+himself repeatedly assures us, in some form or other, that
+&lsquo;the possibilities of &ldquo;may be&rdquo; are to me
+infinite.&rsquo;&nbsp; The puzzle is, in truth, on a par with
+that most insolvable of all puzzles&mdash;Free Will or
+Determinism.&nbsp; Reason and the instinct of conscience are in
+both cases irreconcilable.&nbsp; We are conscious that we are
+always free to choose, though not to act; but reason will have it
+that this is a delusion.&nbsp; There is no logical clue to the
+<i>impasse</i>.&nbsp; Still, reason notwithstanding, we take our
+freedom (within limits) for granted, and with like inconsequence
+we pray.</p>
+<p>It must, I think, be admitted that the belief, delusive or
+warranted, is efficacious in itself.&nbsp; Whether generated in
+the brain by the nerve centres, or whatever may be its origin, a
+force coincident with it is diffused throughout the nervous
+system, which converts the subject of it, just paralysed by
+despair, into a vigorous agent, or, if you will, automaton.</p>
+<p>Now, those who admit this much argue, with no little force,
+that the efficacy of prayer is limited to its reaction upon
+ourselves.&nbsp; Prayer, as already observed, implies belief in
+supernatural intervention.&nbsp; Such belief is competent to
+beget hope, and with it courage, energy, and effort.&nbsp;
+Suppose contrition and remorse induce the sufferer to pray for
+Divine aid and mercy, suppose suffering is the natural penalty of
+his or her own misdeeds, and suppose the contrition and the
+prayer lead to resistance of similar temptations, and hence to
+greater happiness,&mdash;can it be said that the power to resist
+temptation or endure the penalty are due to supernatural
+aid?&nbsp; Or must we not infer that the fear of the consequences
+of vice or folly, together with an earnest desire and intention
+to amend, were adequate in themselves to account for the good
+results?</p>
+<p>Reason compels us to the latter conclusion.&nbsp; But what
+then?&nbsp; Would this prove prayer to be delusive?&nbsp; Not
+necessarily.&nbsp; That the laws of Nature (as argued above) are
+not violated by miracle, is a mere perversion of the accepted
+meaning of &lsquo;miracle,&rsquo; an <i>ignoratio
+elenchi</i>.&nbsp; But in the case of prayer that does not ask
+for the abrogation of Nature&rsquo;s laws, it ceases to be a
+miracle that we pray for or expect: for are not the laws of the
+mind also laws of Nature?&nbsp; And can we explain them any more
+than we can explain physical laws?&nbsp; A psychologist can
+formulate the mental law of association, but he can no more
+explain it than Newton could explain the laws of attraction and
+repulsion which pervade the world of matter.&nbsp; We do not
+know, we cannot know, what the conditions of our spiritual being
+are.&nbsp; The state of mind induced by prayer may, in accordance
+with some mental law, be essential to certain modes of spiritual
+energy, specially conducive to the highest of all moral or
+spiritual results: taken in this sense, prayer may ask, not the
+suspension, but the enactment, of some natural law.</p>
+<p>Let it, however, be granted, for argument&rsquo;s sake, that
+the belief in the efficacy of prayer is delusive, and that the
+beneficial effects of the belief&mdash;the exalted state of mind,
+the enhanced power to endure suffering and resist temptation, the
+happiness inseparable from the assurance that God hears, and can
+and will befriend us&mdash;let it be granted that all this is due
+to sheer hallucination, is this an argument against prayer?&nbsp;
+Surely not.&nbsp; For, in the first place, the incontestable fact
+that belief does produce these effects is for us an ultimate fact
+as little capable of explanation as any physical law whatever;
+and may, therefore, for aught we know, or ever can know, be
+ordained by a Supreme Being.&nbsp; Secondly, all the beneficial
+effects, including happiness, are as real in themselves as if the
+belief were no delusion.</p>
+<p>It may be said that a &lsquo;fool&rsquo;s paradise&rsquo; is
+liable to be turned into a hell of disappointment; and that we
+pay the penalty of building happiness on false foundations.&nbsp;
+This is true in a great measure; but it is absolutely without
+truth as regards our belief in prayer, for the simple reason that
+if death dispel the delusion, it at the same time dispels the
+deluded.&nbsp; However great the mistake, it can never be found
+out.&nbsp; But they who make it will have been the better and the
+happier while they lived.</p>
+<p>For my part, though immeasurably preferring the pantheism of
+Goethe, or of Renan (without his pessimism), to the
+anthropomorphic God of the Israelites, or of their theosophic
+legatees, the Christians, however inconsistent, I still believe
+in prayer.&nbsp; I should not pray that I may not die &lsquo;for
+want of breath&rsquo;; nor for rain, while &lsquo;the wind was in
+the wrong quarter.&rsquo;&nbsp; My prayers would not be like
+those overheard, on his visit to Heaven, by Lucian&rsquo;s
+Menippus: &lsquo;O Jupiter, let me become a king!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;O Jupiter, let my onions and my garlic
+thrive!&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;O Jupiter, let my father soon depart
+from hence!&rsquo;&nbsp; But when the workings of my moral nature
+were concerned, when I needed strength to bear the ills which
+could not be averted, or do what conscience said was right, then
+I should pray.&nbsp; And, if I had done my best in the same
+direction, I should trust in the Unknowable for help.</p>
+<p>Then too, is not gratitude to Heaven the best of
+prayers?&nbsp; Unhappy he who has never felt it!&nbsp; Unhappier
+still, who has never had cause to feel it!</p>
+<p>It may be deemed unwarrantable thus to draw the lines between
+what, for want of better terms, we call Material and
+Spiritual.&nbsp; Still, reason is but the faculty of a very
+finite being; and, as in the enigma of the will, utterly
+incapable of solving any problems beyond those whose data are
+furnished by the senses.&nbsp; Reason is essentially
+realistic.&nbsp; Science is its domain.&nbsp; But science
+demonstratively proves that things are not what they seem; their
+phenomenal existence is nothing else than their relation to our
+special intelligence.&nbsp; We speak and think as if the
+discoveries of science were absolutely true, true in themselves,
+not relatively so for us only.&nbsp; Yet, beings with senses
+entirely different from ours would have an entirely different
+science.&nbsp; For them, our best established axioms would be
+inconceivable, would have no more meaning than that
+&lsquo;Abracadabra is a second intention.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Science, supported by reason, assures us that the laws of
+nature&mdash;the laws of realistic phenomena&mdash;are never
+suspended at the prayers of man.&nbsp; To this conclusion the
+educated world is now rapidly coming.&nbsp; If, nevertheless, men
+thoroughly convinced of this still choose to believe in the
+efficacy of prayer, reason and science are incompetent to confute
+them.&nbsp; The belief must be tried elsewhere,&mdash;it must be
+transferred to the tribunal of conscience, or to a metaphysical
+court, in which reason has no jurisdiction.</p>
+<p>This by no means implies that reason, in its own province, is
+to yield to the &lsquo;feeling&rsquo; which so many cite as the
+infallible authority for their &lsquo;convictions.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We must not be asked to assent to contradictory
+propositions.&nbsp; We must not be asked to believe that
+injustice, cruelty, and implacable revenge, are not execrable
+because the Bible tells us they were habitually manifested by the
+tribal god of the Israelites.&nbsp; The fables of man&rsquo;s
+fall and of the redemption are fraught with the grossest
+violation of our moral conscience, and will, in time, be
+repudiated accordingly.&nbsp; It is idle to say, as the Church
+says, &lsquo;these are mysteries above our human
+reason.&rsquo;&nbsp; They are fictions, fabrications which modern
+research has traced to their sources, and which no unperverted
+mind would entertain for a moment.&nbsp; Fanatical belief in the
+truth of such dogmas based upon &lsquo;feeling&rsquo; have
+confronted all who have gone through the severe ordeal of
+doubt.&nbsp; A couple of centuries ago, those who held them would
+have burnt alive those who did not.&nbsp; Now, they have to
+console themselves with the comforting thought of the fire that
+shall never be quenched.&nbsp; But even Job&rsquo;s patience
+could not stand the self-sufficiency of his pious
+reprovers.&nbsp; The sceptic too may retort: &lsquo;No doubt but
+ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Conviction of this kind is but the convenient substitute for
+knowledge laboriously won, for the patient pursuit of truth at
+all costs&mdash;a plea in short, for ignorance, indolence,
+incapacity, and the rancorous bigotry begotten of them.</p>
+<p>The distinction is not a purely sentimental one&mdash;not a
+belief founded simply on emotion.&nbsp; There is a physical
+world&mdash;the world as known to our senses, and there is a
+psychical world&mdash;the world of feeling, consciousness,
+thought, and moral life.</p>
+<p>Granting, if it pleases you, that material phenomena may be
+the causes of mental phenomena, that &lsquo;la pens&eacute;e est
+le produit du corps entier,&rsquo; still the two cannot be
+thought of as one.&nbsp; Until it can be proved that &lsquo;there
+is nothing in the world but matter, force, and
+necessity,&rsquo;&mdash;which will never be, till we know how we
+lift our hands to our mouths,&mdash;there remains for us a world
+of mystery, which reason never can invade.</p>
+<p>It is a pregnant thought of John Mill&rsquo;s, apropos of
+material and mental interdependence or identity, &lsquo;that the
+uniform coexistence of one fact with another does not make the
+one fact a part of the other, or the same with it.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>A few words of Renan&rsquo;s may help to support the
+argument.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ce qui r&eacute;v&egrave;le le vrai Dieu,
+c&rsquo;est le sentiment moral.&nbsp; Si l&rsquo;humanit&eacute;
+n&rsquo;&eacute;tait qu&rsquo;intelligente, elle serait
+ath&eacute;e.&nbsp; Le devoir, le d&eacute;vouement, le
+sacrifice, toutes choses dont l&rsquo;histoire est pleine, sont
+inexplicables sans Dieu.&rsquo;&nbsp; For all these we need
+help.&nbsp; Is it foolishness to pray for it?&nbsp; Perhaps
+so.&nbsp; Yet, perhaps not; for &lsquo;Tout est possible,
+m&ecirc;me Dieu.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Whether possible, or impossible, this much is absolutely
+certain: man must and will have a religion as long as this world
+lasts.&nbsp; Let us not fear truth.&nbsp; Criticism will change
+men&rsquo;s dogmas, but it will not change man&rsquo;s
+nature.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">My</span> confidence was restored, and
+with it my powers of endurance.&nbsp; Sleep was out of the
+question.&nbsp; The night was bright and frosty; and there was
+not heat enough in my body to dry my flannel shirt.&nbsp; I made
+shift to pull up some briar bushes; and, piling them round me as
+a screen, got some little shelter from the light breeze.&nbsp;
+For hours I lay watching Alpha Centauri&mdash;the double star of
+the Great Bear&rsquo;s pointers&mdash;dipping under the Polar
+star like the hour hand of a clock.&nbsp; My thoughts, strange to
+say, ran little on the morrow; they dwelt almost solely upon
+William Nelson.&nbsp; How far was I responsible, to what extent
+to blame, for leading him, against his will, to death?&nbsp; I
+re-enacted the whole event.&nbsp; Again he was in my hands, still
+breathing when I let him go, knowing, as I did so, that the deed
+consigned him living to his grave.&nbsp; In this way I passed the
+night.</p>
+<p>Just as the first streaks of the longed-for dawn broke in the
+East, I heard distant cries which sounded like the whoops of
+Indians.&nbsp; Then they ceased, but presently began again much
+nearer than before.&nbsp; There was no mistake about them
+now,&mdash;they were the yappings of a pack of wolves, clearly
+enough, upon our track of yesterday.&nbsp; A few minutes more,
+and the light, though still dim, revealed their presence coming
+on at full gallop.&nbsp; In vain I sought for stick or
+stone.&nbsp; Even the river, though I took to it, would not save
+me if they meant mischief.&nbsp; When they saw me they slackened
+their pace.&nbsp; I did not move.&nbsp; They then halted, and
+forming a half-moon some thirty yards off, squatted on their
+haunches, and began at intervals to throw up their heads and
+howl.</p>
+<p>My chief hope was in the coming daylight.&nbsp; They were less
+likely to attack a man then than in the dark.&nbsp; I had often
+met one or two together when hunting; these had always
+bolted.&nbsp; But I had never seen a pack before; and I knew a
+pack meant that they were after food.&nbsp; All depended on their
+hunger.</p>
+<p>When I kept still they got up, advanced a yard or two, then
+repeated their former game.&nbsp; Every minute the light grew
+stronger; its warmer tints heralded the rising sun.&nbsp; Seeing,
+however, that my passivity encouraged them, and convinced that a
+single step in retreat would bring the pack upon me, I determined
+in a moment of inspiration to run amuck, and trust to Providence
+for the consequences.&nbsp; Flinging my arms wildly into the air,
+and frantically yelling with all my lungs, I dashed straight in
+for the lot of them.&nbsp; They were, as I expected, taken by
+surprise.&nbsp; They jumped to their feet and turned tail, but
+again stopped&mdash;this time farther off, and howled with
+vexation at having to wait till their prey succumbed.</p>
+<p>The sun rose.&nbsp; Samson was on the move.&nbsp; I shouted to
+him, and he to me.&nbsp; Finding me thus reinforced the enemy
+slunk off, and I was not sorry to see the last of my ugly
+foes.&nbsp; I now repeated my instructions about our trysting
+place, waited patiently till Samson had breakfasted (which he did
+with the most exasperating deliberation), saw him saddle my horse
+and leave his camp.&nbsp; I then started upon my travels up the
+river, to meet him.&nbsp; After a mile or so, the high ground on
+both banks obliged us to make some little detour.&nbsp; We then
+lost sight of each other; nor was he to be seen when I reached
+the appointed spot.</p>
+<p>Long before I did so I began to feel the effects of my
+labours.&nbsp; My naked feet were in a terrible state from the
+cactus thorns, which I had been unable to avoid in the dark;
+occasional stones, too, had bruised and made them very
+tender.&nbsp; Unable to shuffle on at more than two miles an hour
+at fastest, the happy thought occurred to me of tearing up my
+shirt and binding a half round each foot.&nbsp; This enabled me
+to get on much better; but when the September sun was high, my
+unprotected skin and head paid the penalty.&nbsp; I waited for a
+couple of hours, I dare say, hoping Samson would appear.&nbsp;
+But concluding at length that he had arrived long before me,
+through the slowness of my early progress, and had gone further
+up the river&mdash;thinking perhaps that I had meant some other
+place&mdash;I gave him up; and, full of internal
+&lsquo;d&mdash;n&rsquo; at his incorrigible consistency, plodded
+on and on for&mdash;I knew not where.</p>
+<p>Why, it may be asked, did I not try to cross where I had
+intended?&nbsp; I must confess my want of courage.&nbsp; True,
+the river here was not half, not a third, of the width of the
+scene of my disasters; but I was weak in body and in mind.&nbsp;
+Had anything human been on the other side to see me&mdash;to see
+how brave I was, (alas! poor human nature!)&mdash;I could have
+plucked up heart to risk it.&nbsp; It would have been such a
+comfort to have some one to see me drown!&nbsp; But it is
+difficult to play the hero with no spectators save oneself.&nbsp;
+I shall always have a fellow-feeling with the Last Man:
+practically, my position was about as uncomfortable as his will
+be.</p>
+<p>One of the worst features of it was, what we so often suffered
+from before&mdash;the inaccessibility of water.&nbsp; The sun was
+broiling, and the and soil reflected its scorching rays.&nbsp; I
+was feverish from exhaustion, and there was nothing, nothing to
+look forward to.&nbsp; Mile after mile I crawled along, sometimes
+half disposed to turn back, and try the deep but narrow passage;
+then that inexhaustible fountain of last hopes&mdash;the
+Unknown&mdash;tempted me to go forward.&nbsp; I persevered; when
+behold! as I passed a rock, an Indian stood before me.</p>
+<p>He was as naked as I was.&nbsp; Over his shoulder he carried a
+spear as long as a salmon rod.&nbsp; Though neither had foreseen
+the other, he was absolutely unmoved, showed no surprise, no
+curiosity, no concern.&nbsp; He stood still, and let me come up
+to him.&nbsp; My only, or rather my uppermost, feeling was
+gladness.&nbsp; Of course the thought crossed me of what he might
+do if he owed the white skins a grudge.&nbsp; If any white man
+had ever harmed one of his tribe, I was at his mercy; and it was
+certain that he would show me none.&nbsp; He was a tall powerful
+man, and in my then condition he could have done what he pleased
+with me.&nbsp; Friday was my model; the red man was Robinson
+Crusoe.&nbsp; I kneeled at his feet, and touched the ground with
+my forehead.&nbsp; He did not seem the least elated by my
+humility: there was not a spark of vanity in him.&nbsp; Indeed,
+except for its hideousness and brutality, his face was without
+expression.</p>
+<p>I now proceeded to make a drawing, with my finger, in the
+sand, of a mule in the water; while I imitated by pantomime the
+struggles of the drowning.&nbsp; I then pointed to myself; and,
+using my arms as in swimming, shook my head and my finger to
+signify that I could not swim.&nbsp; I worked an imaginary
+paddle, and made him understand that I wanted him to paddle me
+across the river.&nbsp; Still he remained unmoved; till finally I
+used one argument which interested him more than all the rest of
+my story.&nbsp; I untied a part of the shirt round one foot and
+showed him three gold studs.&nbsp; These I took out and gave to
+him.&nbsp; I also made a drawing of a rifle in the sand, and
+signified that he would get the like if he went with me to my
+camp.&nbsp; Whereupon he turned in the direction I was going;
+and, though unbidden by a look, I did not hesitate to follow.</p>
+<p>I thought I must have dropped before we reached his
+village.&nbsp; This was an osier-bed at the water&rsquo;s side,
+where the whole river rushed through a rocky gorge not more than
+fifty to sixty yards broad.&nbsp; There were perhaps nearly a
+hundred Indians here, two-thirds of whom were women and
+children.&nbsp; Their habitations were formed by interlacing the
+tops of the osiers.&nbsp; Dogs&rsquo; skins spread upon the
+ground and numerous salmon spears were their only
+furniture.&nbsp; In a few minutes my arrival created a prodigious
+commotion.&nbsp; The whole population turned out to stare at
+me.&nbsp; The children ran into the bushes to hide.&nbsp; But
+feminine curiosity conquered feminine timidity.&nbsp; Although I
+was in the plight of the forlorn Odysseus after his desperate
+swim, I had no &lsquo;blooming foliage&rsquo; to wind
+<i>&pi;&epsilon;&rho;&#8054; &chi;&rho;&omicron;&#8146;
+&mu;&#942;&delta;&epsilon;&alpha;
+&phi;&omega;&tau;&#972;&sigmaf;</i>.&nbsp; Unlike the
+Ph&aelig;acian maidens, however, the tawny nymphs were all as
+brave as Princess Nausicaa herself.&nbsp; They stared, and
+pointed, and buzzed, and giggled, and even touched my skin with
+the tips of their fingers&mdash;to see, I suppose, if the white
+would come off.</p>
+<p>But ravenous hunger turned up its nose at flirtation.&nbsp;
+The fillets of drying salmon suspended from every bough were a
+million times more seductive than the dark Naiads who had dressed
+them.&nbsp; Slice after slice I tore down and devoured, as though
+my maw were as compendious as Jack the Giant
+Killer&rsquo;s.&nbsp; This so astonished and delighted the young
+women that they kept supplying me,&mdash;with the expectation,
+perhaps, that sooner or later I must share the giant&rsquo;s
+fate.</p>
+<p>While this was going on, a conference was being held; and I
+had the satisfaction of seeing some men pull up a lot of dead
+rushes, dexterously tie them into bundles, and truss these
+together by means of spears.&nbsp; They had no canoes, for the
+very children were amphibious, living, so it seemed, as much in
+the water as out of it.&nbsp; When the raft was completed, I was
+invited to embark.&nbsp; My original friend, who had twisted a
+tow-rope, took this between his teeth, and led the way.&nbsp;
+Others swam behind and beside me to push and to pull.&nbsp; The
+force of the water was terrific; but they seemed to care no more
+for that than fish.&nbsp; My weight sunk the rush bundles a good
+bit below the surface; and to try my nerves, my crew every now
+and then with a wild yell dived simultaneously, dragging the raft
+and me under water.&nbsp; But I sat tight; and with genuine
+friendliness they landed me safely on the desired shore.</p>
+<p>It was quite dark before we set forth.&nbsp; Robinson Crusoe
+walked on as if he knew exactly where my camp was.&nbsp; Probably
+the whole catastrophe had by this time been bruited for miles
+above and below the spot.&nbsp; Five other stalwart young fellows
+kept us company, each with salmon spear in hand.&nbsp; The walk
+seemed interminable; but I had shipped a goodly cargo of latent
+energy.</p>
+<p>When I got home, instead of Samson, I found the camp occupied
+by half a dozen Indians.&nbsp; They were squatted round a fire,
+smoking.&nbsp; Each one, so it seemed, had appropriated some
+article of our goods.&nbsp; Our blankets were over their
+shoulders.&nbsp; One had William&rsquo;s long rifle in his
+lap.&nbsp; Another was sitting upon mine.&nbsp; A few words were
+exchanged with the newcomers, who seated themselves beside their
+friends; but no more notice was taken of me than of the mules
+which were eating rushes close to us.&nbsp; How was I,
+single-handed, to regain possession?&nbsp; That was the burning
+question.&nbsp; A diplomatic course commanded itself as the only
+possible one.&nbsp; There were six men who expected rewards, but
+the wherewithal was held in seisin by other six.&nbsp; The fight,
+if there were one, should be between the two parties.&nbsp; I
+would hope to prove, that when thieves fall out honest men come
+by their own.</p>
+<p>There is one adage whose truth I needed no further proof
+of.&nbsp; Its first line apostrophises the &lsquo;Gods and little
+fishes.&rsquo;&nbsp; My chief need was for the garment which
+completes the rhyme.&nbsp; Indians, having no use for corduroy
+small clothes, I speedily donned mine.&nbsp; Next I quietly but
+quickly snatched up William&rsquo;s rifle, and presented it to
+Robinson Crusoe, patting him on the back as if with honours of
+knighthood.&nbsp; The dispossessed was not well pleased, but Sir
+Robinson was; and, to all appearances, he was a man of leading,
+if of darkness.&nbsp; While words were passing between the two, I
+sauntered round to the gentleman who sat cross-legged upon my
+weapon.&nbsp; He was as heedless of me as I, outwardly, of
+him.&nbsp; When well within reach, mindful that &lsquo;<i>de
+l&rsquo;audace</i>&rsquo; is no bad motto, in love and war, I
+suddenly placed my foot upon his chest, tightened the extensor
+muscle of my leg, and sent him heels over head.&nbsp; In an
+instant the rifle was mine, and both barrels cocked.&nbsp; After
+yesterday&rsquo;s immersion it might not have gone off, but the
+offended Indian, though furious, doubtless inferred from the
+histrionic attitude which I at once struck, that I felt confident
+it would.&nbsp; With my rifle in hand, with my suite looking to
+me to transfer the plunder to them, my position was now
+secure.&nbsp; I put on a shirt&mdash;the only one left to me, by
+the way&mdash;my shoes and stockings, and my shooting coat; and
+picking out William&rsquo;s effects, divided these, with his
+ammunition, his carpet-bag, and his blankets, amongst my original
+friends.&nbsp; I was beginning to gather my own things together,
+when Samson, leading my horse, unexpectedly rode into the midst
+of us.&nbsp; The night was far advanced.&nbsp; The Indians took
+their leave; and added to the obligation by bequeathing us a
+large fresh salmon, which served us for many a day to come.</p>
+<p>As a postscript I may add that I found poor Mary&rsquo;s
+address on one of her letters, and faithfully kept my promise as
+soon as I reached pen and ink.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">What</span> remains to be told will not
+take long.&nbsp; Hardships naturally increased as the means of
+bearing them diminished.&nbsp; I have said the salmon held out
+for many days.&nbsp; We cut it in strips, and dried it as well as
+we could; but the flies and maggots robbed us of a large portion
+of it.&nbsp; At length we were reduced to two small hams; nothing
+else except a little tea.&nbsp; Guessing the distance we had yet
+to go, and taking into account our slow rate of travelling, I
+calculated the number of days which, with the greatest economy,
+these could be made to last.&nbsp; Allowing only one meal a day,
+and that of the scantiest, I scored the hams as a cook scores a
+leg of roast pork, determined under no circumstances to exceed
+the daily ration.</p>
+<p>No little discipline was requisite to adhere to this
+resolution.&nbsp; Samson broke down under the exposure and
+privation; superadded dysentery rendered him all but helpless,
+and even affected his mind.&nbsp; The whole labour of the camp
+then devolved on me.&nbsp; I never roused him in the morning till
+the mules were packed&mdash;with all but his blanket and the
+pannikin for his tea&mdash;and until I had saddled his horse for
+him.&nbsp; Not till we halted at night did we get our ration of
+ham.&nbsp; This he ate, or rather bolted, raw, like a wild
+beast.&nbsp; My share I never touched till after I lay down to
+sleep.&nbsp; And so tired have I been, that once or twice I woke
+in the morning with my hand at my mouth, the unswallowed morsel
+between my teeth.&nbsp; For three weeks we went on in this way,
+never exchanging a word.&nbsp; I cannot say how I might have
+behaved had Fred been in Samson&rsquo;s place.&nbsp; I hope I
+should have been at least humane.&nbsp; But I was labouring for
+my life, and was not over tender-hearted.</p>
+<p>Certainly there was enough to try the patience of a better
+man.&nbsp; Take an instance.&nbsp; Unable one morning to find my
+own horse, I saddled his and started him off, so as not to waste
+time, with his spare animal and the three mules.&nbsp; It so
+happened that our line of march was rather tortuous, owing to
+some hills we had to round.&nbsp; Still, as there were high
+mountains in the distance which we were making for, it seemed
+impossible that anyone could miss his way.&nbsp; It was twenty
+minutes, perhaps, before I found my horse; this would give him
+about a mile or more start of me.&nbsp; I hurried on, but failed
+to overtake him.&nbsp; At the end of an hour I rode to the top of
+a hill which commanded a view of the course he should have
+taken.&nbsp; Not a moving speck was to be seen.&nbsp; I knew then
+that he had gone astray.&nbsp; But in which direction?</p>
+<p>My heart sank within me.&nbsp; The provisions and blankets
+were with him.&nbsp; I do not think that at any point of my
+journey I had ever felt fear&mdash;panic that is&mdash;till
+now.&nbsp; Starvation stared me in the face.&nbsp; My wits
+refused to suggest a line of action.&nbsp; I was stunned.&nbsp; I
+felt then what I have often felt since, what I still feel, that
+it is possible to wrestle successfully with every difficulty that
+man has overcome, but not with that supreme
+difficulty&mdash;man&rsquo;s stupidity.&nbsp; It did not then
+occur to me to give a name to the impatience that seeks to gather
+grapes of thorns or figs of thistles.</p>
+<p>I turned back, retraced my steps till I came to the track of
+the mules.&nbsp; Luckily the ground retained the footprints,
+though sometimes these would be lost for a hundred yards or
+so.&nbsp; Just as I anticipated&mdash;Samson had wound round the
+base of the very first hill he came to; then, instead of
+correcting the deviation, and steering for the mountains, had
+simply followed his nose, and was now travelling due
+east,&mdash;in other words, was going back over our track of the
+day before.&nbsp; It was past noon when I overtook him, so that a
+precious day&rsquo;s labour was lost.</p>
+<p>I said little, but that little was a sentence of death.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;After to-day,&rsquo; I began, &lsquo;we will travel
+separately.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>At first he seemed hardly to take in my meaning.&nbsp; I
+explained it.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;As well as I can make out, before we get to the Dalles,
+where we ought to find the American outposts, we have only about
+150 miles to go.&nbsp; This should not take more than eight or
+nine days.&nbsp; I can do it in a week alone, but not with
+you.&nbsp; I have come to the conclusion that with you I may not
+be able to do it at all.&nbsp; We have still those
+mountains&rsquo;&mdash;pointing to the Blue Mountain range in the
+distance&mdash;&lsquo;to cross.&nbsp; They are covered with snow,
+as you see.&nbsp; We may find them troublesome.&nbsp; In any case
+our food will only last eight or nine days more, even at the
+present rate.&nbsp; You shall have the largest half of what is
+left, for you require more than I do.&nbsp; But I cannot, and
+will not, sacrifice my life for your sake.&nbsp; I have made up
+my mind to leave you.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>It must always be a terrible thing for a judge to pass the
+sentence of death.&nbsp; But then he is fulfilling a duty, merely
+carrying out a law which is not of his making.&nbsp; Moreover, he
+has no option&mdash;the responsibility rests with the jury; last
+of all, the sufferer is a criminal.&nbsp; Between the
+judge&rsquo;s case and mine there was no analogy.&nbsp; My act
+was a purely selfish one&mdash;justifiable I still think, though
+certainly not magnanimous.&nbsp; I was quite aware of this at the
+time, but a starving man is not burdened with generosity.</p>
+<p>I dismounted, and, without unsaddling the mules, took off
+their packs, now reduced to a few pounds, which was all the
+wretched, raw-backed, and half-dead, animals could stagger under;
+and, putting my blanket, the remains of a ham, and a little
+packet of tea&mdash;some eight or ten tea-spoonfuls&mdash;on one
+mule, I again prepared to mount my horse and depart.</p>
+<p>I took, as it were, a sneaking glance at Samson.&nbsp; He was
+sitting upon the ground, with his face between his knees,
+sobbing.</p>
+<p>At three-and-twenty the heart of a man, or of a woman&mdash;if
+either has any, which, of course, may be doubtful&mdash;is apt to
+play the dynamite with his or her resolves.&nbsp; Water-drops
+have ever been formidable weapons of the latter, as we all know;
+and, not being so accustomed to them then as I have become since,
+the sight of the poor devil&rsquo;s abject woe and destitution,
+the thought that illness and suffering were the causes, the
+secret whisper that my act was a cowardly one, forced me to
+follow the lines of least resistance, and submit to the decrees
+of destiny.</p>
+<p>One more page from my &lsquo;Ride,&rsquo; and the reader will,
+I think, have a fair conception of its general character.&nbsp;
+For the last two hours the ascent of the Blue Mountains had been
+very steep.&nbsp; We were in a thick pine forest.&nbsp; There was
+a track&mdash;probably made by Indians.&nbsp; Near the summit we
+found a spring of beautiful water.&nbsp; Here we halted for the
+night.&nbsp; It was a snug spot.&nbsp; But, alas! there was
+nothing for the animals to eat except pine needles.&nbsp; We
+lighted our fire against the great up-torn roots of a fallen
+tree; and, though it was freezing hard, we piled on such masses
+of dead boughs that the huge blaze seemed to warm the surrounding
+atmosphere.</p>
+<p>I must here give the words of my journal, for one exclamation
+in it has a sort of schoolboy ring that recalls the buoyancy of
+youthful spirits, the spirits indeed to which in early life we
+owe our enterprise and perseverance:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;As I was dozing off, a pack of hungry wolves that had
+scented us out set up the most infernal chorus ever heard.&nbsp;
+In vain I pulled the frozen buffalo-robe over my head, and tried
+to get to sleep.&nbsp; The demons drew nearer and nearer,
+howling, snarling, fighting, moaning, and making a row in the
+perfect stillness which reigned around, as if hell itself were
+loose.&nbsp; For some time I bore it with patience.&nbsp; At
+length, jumping up, I yelled in a voice that made the valley
+ring: You devils! will you be quiet?&nbsp; The appeal was
+immediately answered by silence; but hearing them tuning up for a
+second concert, I threw some wood on the blazing fire and once
+more retired to my lair.&nbsp; For a few minutes I lay awake to
+admire a brilliant Aurora Borealis shooting out its streams of
+electric light.&nbsp; Then, turning over on my side, I never
+moved again till dawn.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The first objects that caught my eye were the animals.&nbsp;
+They were huddled together within a couple of yards of where we
+lay.&nbsp; It was a horrible sight.&nbsp; Two out of the three
+mules, and Samson&rsquo;s horse, had been attacked by the
+wolves.&nbsp; The flanks of the horse were terribly torn, and the
+entrails of both the mules were partially hanging out.&nbsp;
+Though all three were still standing with their backs arched,
+they were rapidly dying from loss of blood.&nbsp; My dear little
+&lsquo;Strawberry&rsquo;&mdash;as we called him to match
+William&rsquo;s &lsquo;Cream&rsquo; and my mare were both
+intact.</p>
+<p>A few days after this, Samson&rsquo;s remaining horse gave
+out.&nbsp; I had to surrender what remained of my poor beast in
+order to get my companion through.&nbsp; The last fifty miles of
+the journey I performed on foot; sometimes carrying my rifle to
+relieve the staggering little mule of a few pounds extra
+weight.&nbsp; At long last the Dalles hove in sight.&nbsp; And
+our cry, &lsquo;The tents! the tents!&rsquo; echoed the joyous
+&lsquo;Thalassa! Thalassa!&rsquo; of the weary Greeks.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2>
+<p>&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Where</span> is the tent of the
+commanding officer?&rsquo; I asked of the first soldier I came
+across.</p>
+<p>He pointed to one on the hillside.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ags for Major
+Dooker,&rsquo; was the Dutch-accented answer.</p>
+<p>Bidding Samson stay where he was, I made my way as
+directed.&nbsp; A middle-aged officer in undress uniform was
+sitting on an empty packing-case in front of his tent, whittling
+a piece of its wood.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Pray sir,&rsquo; said I in my best Louis Quatorze
+manner, &lsquo;have I the pleasure of speaking to Major
+Dooker?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Tucker, sir.&nbsp; And who the devil are
+you?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Let me describe what the Major saw: A man wasted by starvation
+to skin and bone, blackened, almost, by months of exposure to
+scorching suns; clad in the shreds of what had once been a shirt,
+torn by every kind of convict labour, stained by mud and the
+sweat and sores of mules; the rags of a shooting coat to match;
+no head covering; hands festering with sores, and which for weeks
+had not touched water&mdash;if they could avoid it.&nbsp; Such an
+object, in short, as the genius of a Phil May could alone have
+depicted as the most repulsive object he could imagine.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Who the devil are you?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;An English gentleman, sir, travelling for
+pleasure.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>He smiled.&nbsp; &lsquo;You look more like a wild
+beast.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I am quite tame, sir, I assure you&mdash;could even eat
+out of your hand if I had a chance.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Is your name Coke?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; was my amazed reply.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Then come with me&mdash;I will show you something that
+may surprise you.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>I followed him to a neighbouring tent.&nbsp; He drew aside the
+flap of it, and there on his blanket lay Fred Calthorpe, snoring
+in perfect bliss.</p>
+<p>Our greetings were less restrained than our parting had
+been.&nbsp; We were truly glad to meet again.&nbsp; He had
+arrived just two days before me, although he had been at Salt
+Lake City.&nbsp; But he had been able there to refit, had
+obtained ample supplies and fresh animals.&nbsp; Curiously
+enough, his Nelson&mdash;the French-Canadian&mdash;had also been
+drowned in crossing the Snake River.&nbsp; His place, however,
+had been filled by another man, and Jacob had turned out a
+treasure.&nbsp; The good fellow greeted me warmly.&nbsp; And it
+was no slight compensation for bygone troubles to be assured by
+him that our separation had led to the final triumphal
+success.</p>
+<p>Fred and I now shared the same tent.&nbsp; To show what habit
+will do, it was many days before I could accustom myself to sleep
+under cover of a tent even, and in preference slept, as I had
+done for five months, under the stars.&nbsp; The officers
+liberally furnished us with clothing.&nbsp; But their excessive
+hospitality more nearly proved fatal to me than any peril I had
+met with.&nbsp; One&rsquo;s stomach had quite lost its
+discretion.&nbsp; And forgetting that</p>
+<blockquote><p>Famished people must be slowly nursed,<br />
+And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst,</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>one never knew when to leave off eating.&nbsp; For a few days
+I was seriously ill.</p>
+<p>An absurd incident occurred to me here which might have had an
+unpleasant ending.&nbsp; Every evening, after dinner in the mess
+tent, we played whist.&nbsp; One night, quite by accident, Fred
+and I happened to be partners.&nbsp; The Major and another
+officer made up the four.&nbsp; The stakes were rather
+high.&nbsp; We two had had an extraordinary run of luck.&nbsp;
+The Major&rsquo;s temper had been smouldering for some
+time.&nbsp; Presently the deal fell to me; and as bad luck would
+have it, I dealt myself a handful of trumps, and&mdash;all four
+honours.&nbsp; As the last of these was played, the now blazing
+Major dashed his cards on the table, and there and then called me
+out.&nbsp; The cooler heads of two or three of the others, with
+whom Fred had had time to make friends, to say nothing of the
+usual roar of laughter with which he himself heard the challenge,
+brought the matter to a peaceful issue.&nbsp; The following day
+one of the officers brought me a graceful apology.</p>
+<p>As may readily be supposed, we had no hankering for further
+travels such as we had gone through.&nbsp; San Francisco was our
+destination; but though as unknown to us as Charles Lamb&rsquo;s
+&lsquo;Stranger,&rsquo; we &lsquo;damned&rsquo; the overland
+route &lsquo;at a venture&rsquo;; and settled, as there was no
+alternative, to go in a trading ship to the Sandwich Islands
+thence, by the same means, to California.</p>
+<p>On October 20 we procured a canoe large enough for seven or
+eight persons; and embarking with our light baggage, Fred,
+Samson, and I, took leave of the Dalles.&nbsp; For some miles the
+great river, the Columbia, runs through the Cascade Mountains,
+and is confined, as heretofore, in a channel of basaltic
+rock.&nbsp; Further down it widens, and is ornamented by groups
+of small wooded islands.&nbsp; On one of these we landed to rest
+our Indians and feed.&nbsp; Towards evening we again put ashore,
+at an Indian village, where we camped for the night.&nbsp; The
+scenery here is magnificent.&nbsp; It reminded me a little of the
+Danube below Linz, or of the finest parts of the Elbe in Saxon
+Switzerland.&nbsp; But this is to compare the full-length
+portrait with the miniature.&nbsp; It is the grandeur of the
+scale of the best of the American scenery that so strikes the
+European.&nbsp; Variety, however, has its charms; and before one
+has travelled fifteen hundred miles on the same river&mdash;as
+one may easily do in America&mdash;one begins to sigh for the
+Rhine, or even for a trip from London to Greenwich, with a
+white-bait dinner at the end of it.</p>
+<p>The day after, we descended the Cascades.&nbsp; They are the
+beginning of an immense fall in the level, and form a succession
+of rapids nearly two miles long.&nbsp; The excitement of this
+passage is rather too great for pleasure.&nbsp; It is like being
+run away with by a &lsquo;motor&rsquo; down a steep hill.&nbsp;
+The bow of the canoe is often several feet below the stern, as if
+about to take a &lsquo;header.&rsquo;&nbsp; The water, in glassy
+ridges and dark furrows, rushes headlong, and dashes itself madly
+against the reefs which crop up everywhere.&nbsp; There is no
+time, one thinks, to choose a course, even if steerage, which
+seems absurd, were possible.&nbsp; One is hurled along at railway
+speed.&nbsp; The upreared rock, that a moment ago seemed a
+hundred yards off, is now under the very bow of the canoe.&nbsp;
+One clenches one&rsquo;s teeth, holds one&rsquo;s breath,
+one&rsquo;s hour is surely come.&nbsp; But no&mdash;a shout from
+the Indians, a magic stroke of the paddle in the bow, another in
+the stern, and the dreaded crag is far above out heads, far, far
+behind; and, for the moment, we are gliding
+on&mdash;undrowned.</p>
+<p>At the lower end of the rapids (our Indians refusing to go
+further), we had to debark.&nbsp; A settler here was putting up a
+zinc house for a store.&nbsp; Two others, with an officer of the
+Mounted Rifles&mdash;the regiment we had left at the
+Dalles&mdash;were staying with him.&nbsp; They welcomed our
+arrival, and insisted on our drinking half a dozen of poisonous
+stuff they called champagne.&nbsp; There were no chairs or table
+in the &lsquo;house,&rsquo; nor as yet any floor; and only the
+beginning of a roof.&nbsp; We sat on the ground, so that I was
+able surreptitiously to make libations with my share, to the
+earth.</p>
+<p>According to my journal: &lsquo;In a short time the party
+began to be a noisy one.&nbsp; Healths were drunk, toasts
+proposed, compliments to our respective nationalities paid in the
+most flattering terms.&nbsp; The Anglo-Saxon race were destined
+to conquer the globe.&nbsp; The English were the greatest nation
+under the sun&mdash;that is to say, they had been.&nbsp; America,
+of course, would take the lead in time to come.&nbsp; We disputed
+this.&nbsp; The Americans were certain of it, in fact this was
+already an accomplished fact.&nbsp; The big officer&mdash;a
+genuine &ldquo;heavy&rdquo;&mdash;wanted to know where the man
+was that would give him the lie!&nbsp; Wasn&rsquo;t the Mounted
+Rifles the crack regiment of the United States army?&nbsp; And
+wasn&rsquo;t the United States army the finest army in the
+universe?&nbsp; Who that knew anything of history would compare
+the Peninsular Campaign to the war in Mexico?&nbsp; Talk of
+Waterloo&mdash;Britishers were mighty fond of swaggering about
+Waterloo!&nbsp; Let &rsquo;em look at Chepultapec.&nbsp; As for
+Wellington, he couldn&rsquo;t shine nohow with General Scott, nor
+old Zack neither!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Then, <i>we</i> wished for a war, just to let them see what
+our crack cavalry regiments could do.&nbsp; Mounted Rifles
+forsooth!&nbsp; Mounted costermongers! whose trade it was to sell
+&lsquo;nutmegs made of wood, and clocks that wouldn&rsquo;t
+figure.&rsquo;&nbsp; Then some pretty forcible profanity was
+vented, fists were shaken, and the zinc walls were struck, till
+they resounded like the threatened thunder of artillery.</p>
+<p>But Fred&rsquo;s merry laughter diverted the tragic end.&nbsp;
+It was agreed that there had been too much tall talk.&nbsp;
+Britishers and Americans were not such fools as to quarrel.&nbsp;
+Let everybody drink everybody else&rsquo;s health.&nbsp; A
+gentleman in the corner (he needed the support of both walls)
+thought it wasn&rsquo;t good to &lsquo;liquor up&rsquo; too much
+on an empty stomach; he put it to the house that we should have
+supper.&nbsp; The motion was carried <i>nem. con.</i>, and a
+Dutch cheese was produced with much <i>&eacute;clat</i>.&nbsp;
+Samson coupled the ideas of Dutch cheeses and Yankee
+hospitality.&nbsp; This revived the flagging spirit of
+emulation.&nbsp; On one side, it was thought that British manners
+were susceptible of amendment.&nbsp; Confusion was then
+respectively drunk to Yankee hospitality, English manners,
+and&mdash;this was an addition of Fred&rsquo;s&mdash;to Dutch
+cheeses.&nbsp; After which, to change the subject, a song was
+called for, and a gentleman who shall be nameless, for there was
+a little mischief in the choice, sang &lsquo;Rule
+Britannia.&rsquo;&nbsp; Not being encored, the singer drank to
+the flag that had braved the battle and the breeze for nearly
+ninety years.&nbsp; &lsquo;Here&rsquo;s to Uncle Sam, and his
+stars and stripes.&rsquo;&nbsp; The mounted officer rose to his
+legs (with difficulty) and declared &lsquo;that he could not, and
+would not, hear his country insulted any longer.&nbsp; He begged
+to challenge the &ldquo;crowd.&rdquo;&nbsp; He regretted the
+necessity, but his feelings had been wounded, and he could
+not&mdash;no, he positively could not stand it.&rsquo;&nbsp; A
+slight push from Samson proved the fact&mdash;the speaker fell,
+to rise no more.&nbsp; The rest of the company soon followed his
+example, and shortly afterwards there was no sound but that of
+the adjacent rapids.</p>
+<p>Early next morning the settler&rsquo;s boat came up, and took
+us a mile down the river, where we found a larger one to convey
+us to Fort Vancouver.&nbsp; The crew were a Maltese sailor and a
+man who had been in the United States army.&nbsp; Each had his
+private opinions as to her management.&nbsp; Naturally, the
+Maltese should have been captain, but the soldier was both
+supercargo and part owner, and though it was blowing hard and the
+sails were fully large, the foreigner, who was but a poor little
+creature, had to obey orders.</p>
+<p>As the river widened and grew rougher, we were wetted from
+stem to stern at every plunge; and when it became evident that
+the soldier could not handle the sails if the Maltese was kept at
+the helm, the heavy rifleman who was on board, declaring that he
+knew the river, took upon himself to steer us.&nbsp; In a few
+minutes the boat was nearly swamped.&nbsp; The Maltese prayed and
+blasphemed in language which no one understood.&nbsp; The oaths
+of the soldier were intelligible enough.&nbsp; The
+&lsquo;heavy,&rsquo; now alarmed, nervously asked what had better
+be done.&nbsp; My advice was to grease the bowsprit, let go the
+mast, and splice the main brace.&nbsp; &lsquo;In another minute
+or two,&rsquo; I added, &lsquo;you&rsquo;ll steer us all to the
+bottom.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Fred, who thought it no time for joking, called the rifleman a
+&lsquo;damned fool,&rsquo; and authoritatively bade him give up
+the tiller; saying that I had been in Her Majesty&rsquo;s Navy,
+and perhaps knew a little more about boats than he did.&nbsp; To
+this the other replied that &lsquo;he didn&rsquo;t want anyone to
+learn him; he reckon&rsquo;d he&rsquo;d been raised to boating as
+well as the next man, and he&rsquo;d be derned if he was going to
+trust his life to anybody!&rsquo;&nbsp; Samson, thinking no doubt
+of his own, took his pipe out of his mouth, and towering over the
+steersman, flung him like a child on one side.&nbsp; In an
+instant I was in his place.</p>
+<p>It was a minute or two before the boat had way enough to
+answer the helm.&nbsp; By that time we were within a dozen yards
+of a reef.&nbsp; Having noticed, however, that the little craft
+was quick in her stays, I kept her full till the last, put the
+helm down, and round she spun in a moment.&nbsp; Before I could
+thank my stars, the pintle, or hook on which the rudder hangs,
+broke off.&nbsp; The tiller was knocked out of my hand, and the
+boat&rsquo;s head flew into the wind.&nbsp; &lsquo;Out with the
+sweeps,&rsquo; I shouted.&nbsp; But the sweeps were under the
+gear.&nbsp; All was confusion and panic.&nbsp; The two men cursed
+in the names of their respective saints.&nbsp; The
+&lsquo;heavy&rsquo; whined, &lsquo;I told you how it w&rsquo;d
+be.&rsquo;&nbsp; Samson struggled valiantly to get at an oar,
+while Fred, setting the example, begged all hands to be calm, and
+be ready to fend the stern off the rocks with a boathook.&nbsp;
+As we drifted into the surf I was wondering how many bumps she
+would stand before she went to pieces.&nbsp; Happily the water
+shallowed, and the men, by jumping overboard, managed to drag the
+boat through the breakers under the lee of the point.&nbsp; We
+afterwards drew her up on to the beach, kindled a fire, got out
+some provisions, and stayed till the storm was over.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">What</span> was then called Fort Vancouver
+was a station of the Hudson&rsquo;s Bay Company.&nbsp; We took up
+our quarters here till one of the company&rsquo;s
+vessels&mdash;the &lsquo;Mary Dare,&rsquo; a brig of 120 tons,
+was ready to sail for the Sandwich Islands.&nbsp; This was about
+the most uncomfortable trip I ever made.&nbsp; A sailing merchant
+brig of 120 tons, deeply laden, is not exactly a pleasure yacht;
+and 2,000 miles is a long voyage.&nbsp; For ten days we lay at
+anchor at the mouth of the Columbia, detained by westerly
+gales.&nbsp; A week after we put to sea, all our fresh provisions
+were consumed, and we had to live on our cargo&mdash;dried
+salmon.&nbsp; We three and the captain more than filled the
+little hole of a cabin.&nbsp; There wasn&rsquo;t even a hammock,
+and we had to sleep on the deck, or on the lockers.&nbsp; The
+fleas, the cockroaches, and the rats, romped over and under one
+all night.&nbsp; Not counting the time it took to go down the
+river, or the ten days we were kept at its mouth, we were just
+six weeks at sea before we reached Woahoo, on Christmas Day.</p>
+<p>How beautiful the islands looked as we passed between them,
+with a fair wind and studding sails set alow and aloft.&nbsp;
+Their tropical charms seemed more glowing, the water bluer, the
+palm trees statelier, the vegetation more libertine than
+ever.&nbsp; On the south the land rises gradually from the shore
+to a range of lofty mountains.&nbsp; Immediately behind
+Honolulu&mdash;the capital&mdash;a valley with a road winding up
+it leads to the north side of the island.&nbsp; This valley is,
+or was then, richly cultivated, principally with <i>taro</i>, a
+large root not unlike the yam.&nbsp; Here and there native huts
+were dotted about, with gardens full of flowers, and abundance of
+tropical fruit.&nbsp; Higher up, where it becomes too steep for
+cultivation, growth of all kind is rampant.&nbsp; Acacias,
+oranges, maples, bread-fruit, and sandal-wood trees, rear their
+heads above the tangled ever-greens.&nbsp; The high peaks,
+constantly in the clouds, arrest the moisture of the ocean
+atmosphere, and countless rills pour down the mountain sides,
+clothing everything in perpetual verdure.&nbsp; The climate is
+one of the least changeable in the world; the sea breeze blows
+day and night, and throughout the year the day temperature does
+not vary more than five or six degrees, the average being about
+eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit in the shade.&nbsp; In 1850 the
+town of Honolulu was little else than a native village of grass
+and mat huts.&nbsp; Two or three merchants had good houses.&nbsp;
+In one of these Fred and Samson were domiciled; there was no such
+thing as a hotel.&nbsp; I was the guest of General Miller, the
+Consul-General.&nbsp; What changes may have taken place since the
+above date I have no means of knowing.&nbsp; So far as the
+natives go, the change will assuredly have been for the worse;
+for the aborigines, in all parts of the world, lose their
+primitive simplicity and soon acquire the worst vices of
+civilisation.</p>
+<p>Even King Tamehameha III. was not innocent of one of
+them.&nbsp; General Miller offered to present us at court, but he
+had to give several days&rsquo; notice in order that his Majesty
+might be sufficiently sober to receive us.&nbsp; A negro tailor
+from the United States fitted us out with suits of black, and on
+the appointed day we put ourselves under the shade of the old
+General&rsquo;s cocked hat, and marched in a body to the
+palace.&nbsp; A native band, in which a big drum had the leading
+part, received us with &lsquo;God save the
+Queen&rsquo;&mdash;whether in honour of King Tamy, or of his
+visitors, was not divulged.&nbsp; We were first introduced to a
+number of chiefs in European uniforms&mdash;except as to their
+feet, which were mostly bootless.&nbsp; Their names sounded like
+those of the state officers in Mr. Gilbert&rsquo;s
+&lsquo;Mikado.&rsquo;&nbsp; I find in my journal one entered as
+Tovey-tovey, another as Kanakala.&nbsp; We were then conducted to
+the presence chamber by the Foreign Minister, Mr. Wiley, a very
+pronounced Scotch gentleman with a star of the first magnitude on
+his breast.&nbsp; The King was dressed as an English
+admiral.&nbsp; The Queen, whose ample undulations also reminded
+one of the high seas, was on his right; while in perfect
+gradation on her right again were four princesses in short frocks
+and long trousers, with plaited tails tied with blue ribbon, like
+the Miss Kenwigs.&nbsp; A little side dispute arose between the
+stiff old General and the Foreign Minister as to whose right it
+was to present us.&nbsp; The Consul carried the day; but the
+Scot, not to be beaten, informed Tamehameha, in a long prefatory
+oration, of the object of the ceremony.&nbsp; Taking one of us by
+the hand (I thought the peppery old General would have thrust him
+aside), Mr. Wiley told the King that it was seldom the Sandwich
+Islands were &lsquo;veesited&rsquo; by strangers of such
+&lsquo;desteenction&rsquo;&mdash;that the Duke of this (referring
+to Fred&rsquo;s relations), and Lord the other, were the greatest
+noblemen in the world; then, with much solemnity, quoted a long
+speech from Shakespeare, and handed us over to his rival.</p>
+<p>His Majesty, who did not understand a word of English, or
+Scotch, looked grave and held tight to the arm of the throne; for
+the truth is, that although he had relinquished his bottle for
+the hour, he had brought its contents with him.&nbsp; My salaam
+was soon made; but as I retired backwards I had the misfortune to
+set my heel on the toes of a black-and-tan terrier, a privileged
+pet of the General&rsquo;s.&nbsp; The shriek of the animal and
+the loss of my equilibrium nearly precipitated me into the arms
+of a trousered princess; but the amiable young lady only
+laughed.&nbsp; Thus ended my glimpse of the Hawaian Court.&nbsp;
+Mr. Wiley afterwards remarked to me: &lsquo;We do things in a
+humble way, ye&rsquo;ll obsairve; but royalty is royalty all over
+the world, and His Majesty Tamehameha is as much Keng of his ain
+domeenions as Victoria is Queen of Breetain.&rsquo;&nbsp; The
+relativity of greatness was not to be denied.</p>
+<p>The men&mdash;Kanakas, as they are called&mdash;are fine
+stalwart fellows above our average height.&nbsp; The only
+clothing they then wore was the <i>maro</i>, a cloth made by
+themselves of the acacia bark.&nbsp; This they pass between the
+legs, and once or twice round the loins.&nbsp; The
+<i>Wyheenes</i>&mdash;women&mdash;formerly wore nothing but a
+short petticoat or kilt of the same material.&nbsp; By persuasion
+of the missionaries they have exchanged this simple garment for a
+chemise of printed calico, with the waist immediately under the
+arms so as to conceal the contour of the figure.&nbsp; Other
+clothing have they none.</p>
+<p>Are they the more chaste?&nbsp; Are they the less
+seductive?&nbsp; Hear what M. Anatole France says in his
+apostrophe to the sex: &lsquo;Pour faire de vous la terrible
+merveille que vous &ecirc;tes aujourd&rsquo;hui, pour devenir la
+cause indiff&eacute;rente et souveraine des sacrifices et des
+crimes, il vous a fallu deux choses: la civilisation qui vous
+donna des voiles, et la religion qui vous donna des
+scrupules.&rsquo;&nbsp; The translation of which is (please take
+note of it, my dear young ladies with &lsquo;les &eacute;paules
+qui ne finissent pas&rsquo;):</p>
+<blockquote><p>&lsquo;Heard melodies are sweet, but those
+unheard<br />
+Are sweeter.&rsquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Be this as it may, these chocolate-skinned beauties, with
+their small and regular features, their rosy lips, their perfect
+teeth&mdash;of which they take great care&mdash;their luxurious
+silky tresses, their pretty little hands and naked feet, and
+their exquisite forms, would match the matchless Cleopatra.</p>
+<p>Through the kindness of Fred&rsquo;s host, the principal
+merchant in the island, we were offered an opportunity of
+becoming acquainted with the <i>&eacute;lite</i> of the Honolulu
+nymphs.&nbsp; Mr. S. invited us to what is called a <i>Loohou</i>
+feast got up by him for their entertainment.&nbsp; The head of
+one of the most picturesque valleys in Woahoo was selected for
+the celebration of this ancient festival.&nbsp; Mounted on horses
+with which Mr. S. had furnished us, we repaired in a party to the
+appointed spot.&nbsp; It was early in the afternoon when we
+reached it; none of the guests had arrived, excepting a few
+Kanakas, who were engaged in thatching an old shed as shelter
+from the sun, and strewing the ground with a thick carpet of
+palm-leaves.&nbsp; Ere long, a cavalcade of between thirty and
+forty amazons&mdash;they all rode astride&mdash;came racing up
+the valley at full speed, their merry shouts proclaiming their
+approach.&nbsp; Gaudy strips of <i>maro</i> were loosely folded
+around their legs for skirts.&nbsp; Their pretty little straw
+hats trimmed with ribbons, or their uncovered heads with their
+long hair streaming in the wind, confined only by a wreath of
+fresh orange flowers, added to their irresistible charm.&nbsp;
+Certainly, the bravest soldiers could not have withstood their
+charge.&nbsp; No men, however, were admitted, save those who had
+been expressly invited; but each lady of importance was given a
+<i>carte blanche</i> to bring as many of her own sex as she
+pleased, provided they were both pretty and respectable.</p>
+<p>As they rode up, we cavaliers, with becoming gallantry,
+offered our assistance while they dismounted.&nbsp; Smitten
+through and through by the bright eyes of one little houri who
+possessed far more than her share of the first requirement, and,
+taking the second for granted, I courteously prepared to aid her
+to alight; when, to my discomfiture, instead of a gracious
+acknowledgment of my services, she gave me a sharp cut with her
+whip.&nbsp; As, however, she laughed merrily at my wry faces, I
+accepted the act as a scratch of the kitten&rsquo;s claws; at
+least, it was no sign of indifference, and giving myself the
+benefit of the doubt, lifted her from her saddle without further
+chastisement, except a coquettish smile that wounded, alas! more
+than it healed.</p>
+<p>The feast was thus prepared: poultry, sucking-pigs, and
+puppies&mdash;the last, after being scalded and scraped, were
+stuffed with vegetables and spices, rolled in plantain leaves,
+and placed in the ground upon stones already heated.&nbsp; More
+stones were then laid over them, and fires lighted on the top of
+all.&nbsp; While the cooking was in progress, the Kanakas ground
+<i>taro</i> roots for the paste called &lsquo;poe&rsquo;; the
+girls danced and sang.&nbsp; The songs were devoid of melody,
+being musical recitations of imaginary love adventures,
+accompanied by swayings of the body and occasional choral
+interruptions, all becoming more and more excited as the story or
+song approached its natural climax.&nbsp; Sometimes this was
+varied by a solitary dancer starting from the circle, and
+performing the wildest bacchanalian antics, to the vocal
+incitement of the rest.&nbsp; This only ended with physical
+exhaustion, or collapse from feminine hysteria.</p>
+<p>The food was excellent; the stuffed puppy was a dish for an
+epicure.&nbsp; Though knives and forks were unknown, and each
+helped herself from the plantain leaf, one had not the least
+objection to do likewise, for the most scrupulous cleanliness is
+one of the many merits of these fascinating creatures.&nbsp;
+Before every dip into the leaf, the dainty little fingers were
+plunged into bowls of fresh water provided for the purpose.&nbsp;
+Delicious fruit followed the substantial fare; a small glass of
+<i>kava</i>&mdash;a juice extracted from a root of the pepper
+tribe&mdash;was then served to all alike.&nbsp; Having watched
+the process of preparing the beverage, I am unable to speak as to
+its flavour.&nbsp; The making of it is remarkable.&nbsp; A number
+of women sit on the ground, chew the root, and spit its juice
+into a bowl.&nbsp; The liquor is kept till it ferments, after
+which it becomes highly intoxicating.&nbsp; I regret to say that
+its potency was soon manifested on this occasion.&nbsp; No sooner
+did the poison set their wild blood tingling, than a free fight
+began for the remaining gourds.&nbsp; Such a scratching, pulling
+of hair, clawing, kicking, and crying, were never seen.&nbsp;
+Only by main force did we succeed in restoring peace.&nbsp; It is
+but fair to state that, except on the celebration of one or two
+solemn and sacred rites such as that of the <i>Loohou</i>, these
+island Thyades never touch fermented liquors.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was an easier task when all was
+over to set the little Amazons on their horses than to keep them
+there, for by the time we had perched one on her saddle, or pad
+rather, and adjusted her with the greatest nicety, another whom
+we had just left would lose her balance and fall with a scream to
+the ground.&nbsp; It was almost as difficult as packing mules on
+the prairie.&nbsp; For my part it must be confessed that I left
+the completion of the job to others.&nbsp; Curious and
+entertaining as the feast was, my whole attention was centred and
+absorbed in Arakeeta, which that artful little enchantress had
+the gift to know, and lashed me accordingly with her eyes more
+cruelly than she had done with her whip.&nbsp; I had got so far,
+you see, as to learn her name, the first instalment of an
+intimacy which my demolished heart was staked on
+perfecting.&nbsp; I noticed that she refused the <i>kava</i> with
+real or affected repugnance; and when the passage of arms, and
+legs, began, she slipped away, caught her animal, and with a
+parting laugh at me, started off for home.&nbsp; There was not
+the faintest shadow of encouragement in her saucy looks to follow
+her.&nbsp; Still, she was a year older than Juliet, who was
+nearly fourteen; so, who could say what those looks might
+veil?&nbsp; Besides:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Das
+Naturell der Frauen<br />
+Ist so nah mit Kunst verwandt,</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>that one might easily be mistaken.&nbsp; Anyhow, flight
+provoked pursuit; I jumped on to my horse, and raced along the
+plain like mad.&nbsp; She saw me coming, and flogged the more,
+but being the better mounted of the two, by degrees I overhauled
+her.&nbsp; As I ranged alongside, neither slackened speed; and
+reaching out to catch her bridle, my knee hooked under the hollow
+of hers, twisted her clean off her pad, and in a moment she lay
+senseless on the ground.&nbsp; I flung myself from my horse, and
+laid her head upon my lap.&nbsp; Good God! had I broken her
+neck!&nbsp; She did not stir; her eyes were closed, but she
+breathed, and her heart beat quickly.&nbsp; I was wild with
+terror and remorse.&nbsp; I looked back for aid, but the others
+had not started; we were still a mile or more from
+Honolulu.&nbsp; I knew not what to do.&nbsp; I kissed her
+forehead, I called her by her name.&nbsp; But she lay like a
+child asleep.&nbsp; Presently her dazed eyes opened and stared
+with wonderment, and then she smiled.&nbsp; The tears, I think,
+were on my cheeks, and seeing them, she put her arms around my
+neck and&mdash;forgave me.</p>
+<p>She had fallen on her head and had been stunned.&nbsp; I
+caught the horses while she sat still, and we walked them slowly
+home.&nbsp; When we got within sight of her hut on the outskirts
+of the town, she would not let me go further.&nbsp; There was
+sadness in her look when we parted.&nbsp; I made her understand
+(I had picked up two or three words) that I would return to see
+her.&nbsp; She at once shook her head with an expression of
+something akin to fear.&nbsp; I too felt sorrowful, and worse
+than sorrowful, jealous.</p>
+<p>When the night fell I sought her hut.&nbsp; It was one of the
+better kind, built like others mainly with matting; no doors or
+windows, but with an extensive verandah which protected the inner
+part from rain and sun.&nbsp; Now and again I caught glimpses of
+Arakeeta&rsquo;s fairy form flitting in, or obscuring, the
+lamplight.&nbsp; I could see two other women and two men.&nbsp;
+Who and what were they?&nbsp; Was one of those dark forms an
+Othello, ready to smother his Desdemona?&nbsp; Or were either of
+them a Valentine between my Marguerite and me?&nbsp; Though there
+was no moon, I dared not venture within the lamp&rsquo;s rays,
+for her sake; for my own, I was reckless now&mdash;I would have
+thanked either of them to brain me with his hoe.&nbsp; But
+Arakeeta came not.</p>
+<p>In the day-time I roamed about the district, about the
+<i>taro</i> fields, in case she might be working there.&nbsp;
+Every evening before sundown, many of the women and some of the
+well-to-do men, and a few whites, used to ride on the plain that
+stretches along the shore between the fringe of palm groves and
+the mountain spurs.&nbsp; I had seen Arakeeta amongst them before
+the <i>Loohou</i> feast.&nbsp; She had given this up now, and
+why?&nbsp; Night after night I hovered about the hut.&nbsp; When
+she was in the verandah I whispered her name.&nbsp; She started
+and peered into the dark, hesitated, then fled.&nbsp; Again the
+same thing happened.&nbsp; She had heard me, she knew that I was
+there, but she came not; no, wiser than I, she came not.&nbsp;
+And though I sighed:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;What
+is worth<br />
+The rest of Heaven, the rest of earth?</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>the shrewd little wench doubtless told herself: &lsquo;A quiet
+life, without the fear of the broomstick.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Fred was impatient to be off, I had already trespassed too
+long on the kind hospitality of General Miller, neither of us had
+heard from England for more than a year, and the opportunities of
+trading vessels to California seldom offered.&nbsp; A rare chance
+came&mdash;a fast-sailing brig, the &lsquo;Corsair,&rsquo; was to
+leave in a few days for San Francisco.&nbsp; The captain was an
+Englishman, and had the repute of being a boon companion and a
+good caterer.&nbsp; We&mdash;I, passively&mdash;settled to
+go.&nbsp; Samson decided to remain.&nbsp; He wanted to visit
+Owyhee.&nbsp; He came on board with us, however; and, with a
+parting bumper of champagne, we said
+&lsquo;Good-bye.&rsquo;&nbsp; That was the last I ever saw of
+him.&nbsp; The hardships had broken him down.&nbsp; He died not
+long after.</p>
+<p>The light breeze carried us slowly away&mdash;for the first
+time for many long months with our faces to the east.&nbsp; But
+it was not &lsquo;merry&rsquo; England that filled my juvenile
+fancies.&nbsp; I leaned upon the taffrail and watched this lovely
+land of the &lsquo;flowery food&rsquo; fade slowly from my
+sight.&nbsp; I had eaten of the Lotus, and knew no wish but to
+linger on, to roam no more, to return no more, to any home that
+was not Arakeeta&rsquo;s.</p>
+<p>This sort of feeling is not very uncommon in early life.&nbsp;
+And &lsquo;out of sight, out of mind,&rsquo; is also a known
+experience.&nbsp; Long before we reached San Fr&rsquo;isco I was
+again eager for adventure.</p>
+<p>How magnificent is the bay!&nbsp; One cannot see across
+it.&nbsp; How impatient we were to land!&nbsp; Everything
+new.&nbsp; Bearded dirty heterogeneous crowds busy in all
+directions,&mdash;some running up wooden and zinc houses, some
+paving the streets with planks, some housing over ships beached
+for temporary dwellings.&nbsp; The sandy hills behind the infant
+town are being levelled and the foreshore filled up.&nbsp; A
+&lsquo;water surface&rsquo; of forty feet square is worth 5,000
+dollars.&nbsp; So that here and there the shop-fronts are
+ships&rsquo; broadsides.&nbsp; Already there is a theatre.&nbsp;
+But the chief feature is the gambling saloons, open night and
+day.&nbsp; These large rooms are always filled with from 300 to
+400 people of every description&mdash;from &lsquo;judges&rsquo;
+and &lsquo;colonels&rsquo; (every man is one or the other, who is
+nothing else) to Parisian cocottes, and escaped convicts of all
+nationalities.&nbsp; At one end of the saloon is a bar, at the
+other a band.&nbsp; Dozens of tables are ranged around.&nbsp;
+Monte, faro, rouge-et-noir, are the games.&nbsp; A large
+proportion of the players are diggers in shirt-sleeves and
+butcher-boots, belts round their waists for bowie knife and
+&lsquo;five shooters,&rsquo; which have to be surrendered on
+admittance.&nbsp; They come with their bags of nuggets or
+&lsquo;dust,&rsquo; which is duly weighed, stamped, and sealed by
+officials for the purpose.</p>
+<p>I have still several specimens of the precious metal which I
+captured, varying in size from a grain of wheat to a mustard
+seed.</p>
+<p>The tables win enormously, and so do the ladies of pleasure;
+but the winnings of these go back again to the tables.&nbsp; Four
+times, while we were here, differences of opinion arose
+concerning points of &lsquo;honour,&rsquo; and were summarily
+decided by revolvers.&nbsp; Two of the four were subsequently
+referred to Judge &lsquo;Lynch.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Wishing to see the &lsquo;diggings,&rsquo; Fred and I went to
+Sacramento&mdash;about 150 miles up the river of that name.&nbsp;
+This was but a pocket edition of San Francisco, or scarcely
+that.&nbsp; We therefore moved to Marysville, which, from its
+vicinity to the various branches of the Sacramento river, was the
+chief depot for the miners of the &lsquo;wet
+diggin&rsquo;s&rsquo; in Northern California.&nbsp; Here we were
+received by a Mr. Massett&mdash;a curious specimen of the waifs
+and strays that turn up all over the world in odd places, and
+whom one would be sure to find in the moon if ever one went
+there.&nbsp; He owned a little one-roomed cabin, over the door of
+which was painted &lsquo;Offices of the Marysville
+Herald.&rsquo;&nbsp; He was his own contributor and
+&lsquo;correspondent,&rsquo; editor and printer, (the press was
+in a corner of the room).&nbsp; Amongst other avocations he was a
+concert-giver, a comic reader, a tragic actor, and an
+auctioneer.&nbsp; He had the good temper and sanguine disposition
+of a Mark Tapley.&nbsp; After the golden days of California he
+spent his life wandering about the globe; giving
+&lsquo;entertainments&rsquo; in China, Japan, India,
+Australia.&nbsp; Wherever the English language is spoken, Stephen
+Massett had many friends and no enemies.</p>
+<p>Fred slept on the table, I under it, and next morning we hired
+horses and started for the &lsquo;Forks of the Yuba.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+A few hours&rsquo; ride brought us to the gold-hunters.&nbsp; Two
+or three hundred men were at work upon what had formerly been the
+bed of the river.&nbsp; By unwritten law, each miner was entitled
+to a certain portion of the &lsquo;bar,&rsquo; as it was called,
+in which the gold is found.&nbsp; And, as the precious metal has
+to be obtained by washing, the allotments were measured by thirty
+feet on the banks of the river and into the dry bed as far as
+this extends; thus giving each man his allowance of water.&nbsp;
+Generally three or four combined to possess a
+&lsquo;claim.&rsquo;&nbsp; Each would then attend to his own
+department: one loosened the soil, another filled the barrow or
+cart, a third carried it to the river, and the fourth would wash
+it in the &lsquo;rocker.&rsquo;&nbsp; The average weight of gold
+got by each miner while we were at the &lsquo;wet
+diggin&rsquo;s,&rsquo; <i>i.e.</i> where water had to be used,
+was nearly half an ounce or seven dollars&rsquo; worth a
+day.&nbsp; We saw three Englishmen who had bought a claim 30 feet
+by 100 feet, for 1,400 dollars.&nbsp; It had been bought and sold
+twice before for considerable sums, each party supposing it to be
+nearly &lsquo;played out.&rsquo;&nbsp; In three weeks the
+Englishmen paid their 1,400 dollars and had cleared thirteen
+dollars a day apiece for their labour.</p>
+<p>Our presence here created both curiosity and suspicion, for
+each gang and each individual was very shy of his
+neighbour.&nbsp; They did not believe our story of crossing the
+plains; they themselves, for the most part, had come round the
+Horn; a few across the isthmus.&nbsp; Then, if we didn&rsquo;t
+want to dig, what did we want?&nbsp; Another peculiarity about
+us&mdash;a great one&mdash;was, that, so far as they could see,
+we were unarmed.&nbsp; At night the majority, all except the few
+who had huts, slept in a zinc house or sort of low-roofed barn,
+against the walls of which were three tiers of bunks.&nbsp; There
+was no room for us, even if we had wished it, but we managed to
+hire a trestle.&nbsp; Mattress or covering we had none.&nbsp; As
+Fred and I lay side by side, squeezed together in a trough
+scarcely big enough for one, we heard two fellows by the door of
+the shed talking us over.&nbsp; They thought no doubt that we
+were fast asleep, they themselves were slightly fuddled.&nbsp; We
+nudged each other and pricked up our ears, for we had already
+canvassed the question of security, surrounded as we were by
+ruffians who looked quite ready to dispose of babes in the
+wood.&nbsp; They discussed our &lsquo;portable property&rsquo;
+which was nil; one decided, while the other believed, that we
+must have money in our pockets.&nbsp; The first remarked that,
+whether or no, we were unarmed; the other wasn&rsquo;t so sure
+about that&mdash;it wasn&rsquo;t likely we&rsquo;d come there to
+be skinned for the asking.&nbsp; Then arose the question of
+consequences, and it transpired that neither of them had the
+courage of his rascality.&nbsp; After a bit, both agreed they had
+better turn in.&nbsp; Tired as we were, we fell asleep.&nbsp; How
+long we had slumbered I know not, but all of a sudden I was
+seized by the beard, and was conscious of a report which in my
+dreams I took for a pistol-shot.&nbsp; I found myself on the
+ground amid the wrecks of the trestle.&nbsp; Its joints had given
+way under the extra weight, and Fred&rsquo;s first impulse had
+been to clutch at my throat.</p>
+<p>On the way back to San Francisco we stayed for a couple of
+nights at Sacramento.&nbsp; It was a miserable place, with
+nothing but a few temporary buildings except those of the Spanish
+settlers.&nbsp; In the course of a walk round the town I noticed
+a crowd collected under a large elm-tree in the
+horse-market.&nbsp; On inquiry I was informed that a man had been
+lynched on one of its boughs the night before last.&nbsp; A piece
+of the rope was still hanging from the tree.&nbsp; When I got
+back to the &lsquo;hotel&rsquo;&mdash;a place not much better
+than the shed at Yuba Forks&mdash;I found a newspaper with an
+account of the affair.&nbsp; Drawing a chair up to the stove, I
+was deep in the story, when a huge rowdy-looking fellow in
+digger-costume interrupted me with:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Say, stranger, let&rsquo;s have a look at that paper,
+will ye?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;When I&rsquo;ve done with it,&rsquo; said I, and
+continued reading.&nbsp; He lent over the back of my chair, put
+one hand on my shoulder, and with the other raised the paper so
+that he could read.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Caint see rightly.&nbsp; Ah, reckon you&rsquo;re readen
+&rsquo;baout Jim, ain&rsquo;t yer?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Who&rsquo;s Jim?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Him as they sus-spended yesterday mornin&rsquo;.&nbsp;
+Jim was a purticler friend o&rsquo; mine, and I help&rsquo;d to
+hang him.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;A friendly act!&nbsp; What was he hanged
+for?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;When did you come to Sacramenty City?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Day before yesterday.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Wal, I&rsquo;ll tell yer haow&rsquo;t was then.&nbsp;
+Yer see, Jim was a Britisher, he come from a place they call
+Botany Bay, which belongs to Victoria, but ain&rsquo;t
+&rsquo;xactly in the Old Country.&nbsp; I judge, when he first
+come to Californy, &rsquo;baout six months back, he warn&rsquo;t
+acquainted none with any boys hereaway, so he took to
+diggin&rsquo; by hisself.&nbsp; It was up to Cigar Bar whar he
+dug, and I chanst to be around there too, that&rsquo;s haow we
+got to know one another.&nbsp; Jim hadn&rsquo;t been here not a
+fortnight &rsquo;fore one of the boys lost 300 dollars as
+he&rsquo;d made a cache of.&nbsp; Somehow suspicions fell on
+Jim.&nbsp; More&rsquo;n one of us thought he&rsquo;d been a
+diggin&rsquo; for bags instead of for dust; and the man as lost
+the money swore he&rsquo;d hev a turn with him; so Jim took my
+advice not to go foolin&rsquo; around, an&rsquo;
+sloped.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said I, as my friend stopped to adjust his
+tobacco plug, &lsquo;he wasn&rsquo;t hanged for that?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&rsquo;Tain&rsquo;t likely!&nbsp; Till last week nobody
+know&rsquo;d whar he&rsquo;d gone to.&nbsp; When he come to
+Sacramenty this time, he come with a pile, an&rsquo; no
+mistake.&nbsp; All day and all night he used to play at faro
+an&rsquo; a heap o&rsquo; other games.&nbsp; Nobody
+couldn&rsquo;t tell how he made his money hold out, nor whar he
+got it from; but sartin sure the crowd reckoned as haow Jim was
+considerable of a loafer.&nbsp; One day a blacksmith as lives up
+Broad Street, said he found out the way he done it, and ast me to
+come with him and show up Jim for cheatin&rsquo;.&nbsp; Naow,
+whether it was as Jim suspicioned the blacksmith I cain&rsquo;t
+say, but he didn&rsquo;t cheat, and lost his money in
+consequence.&nbsp; This riled him bad, so wantin&rsquo; to get
+quit of the blacksmith he began a quarrel.&nbsp; The blacksmith
+was a quick-tempered man, and after some language struck Jim in
+the mouth.&nbsp; Jim jumps up, and whippin&rsquo; out his
+revolver, shoots the t&rsquo;other man dead on the spot.&nbsp; I
+was the first to lay hold on him, but ef it hadn&rsquo;t
+&rsquo;a&rsquo; been for me they&rsquo;d &rsquo;a&rsquo; torn him
+to pieces.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Send for Judge Parker,&rdquo; says some.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s try him here,&rdquo; says
+others.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to be tried at all,&rdquo;
+says Jim.&nbsp; &ldquo;You all know bloody well as I shot the
+man.&nbsp; And I knows bloody well as I&rsquo;ll hev to swing for
+it.&nbsp; Gi&rsquo; me till daylight, and I&rsquo;ll die like a
+man.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But we wasn&rsquo;t going to hang him without a proper
+trial; and as the trial lasted two hours, it&mdash;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Two hours!&nbsp; What did you want two hours
+for?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;There was some as wanted to lynch him, and some as
+wanted him tried by the reg&rsquo;lar judges of the
+Crim&rsquo;nal Court.&nbsp; One of the best speakers said
+lynch-law was no law at all, and no innocent man&rsquo;s life was
+safe with it.&nbsp; So there was a lot of speakin&rsquo;, you
+bet.&nbsp; By the time it was over it was just daylight, and the
+majority voted as he should die at onc&rsquo;t.&nbsp; So they
+took him to the horse-market, and stood him on a table under the
+big elm.&nbsp; I kep&rsquo; by his side, and when he was getting
+on the table he ast me to lend him my revolver to shoot the
+foreman of the jury.&nbsp; When I wouldn&rsquo;t, he ast me to
+tie the knot so as it wouldn&rsquo;t slip.&nbsp; &ldquo;It
+ain&rsquo;t no account, Jim,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;to talk like
+that.&nbsp; You&rsquo;re bound to die; and ef they didn&rsquo;t
+hang yer I&rsquo;d shoot yer myself.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;Well then,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;gi&rsquo; me
+hold of the rope, and I&rsquo;ll show you how little I keer for
+death.&rdquo;&nbsp; He snatches the cord out o&rsquo; my hands,
+pulls hisself out o&rsquo; reach o&rsquo; the crowd, and sat
+cross-legged on the bough.&nbsp; Half a dozen shooters was raised
+to fetch him down, but he tied a noose in the rope, put it round
+his neck, slipped it puty tight, and stood up on the bough and
+made &rsquo;em a speech.&nbsp; What he mostly said was as he
+hated &rsquo;em all.&nbsp; He cussed the man he shot, then he
+cussed the world, then he cussed hisself, and with a
+terr&rsquo;ble oath he jumped off the bough, and swung
+back&rsquo;ards and for&rsquo;ards with his neck
+broke.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;An Englishman,&rsquo; I reflected aloud.</p>
+<p>He nodded.&nbsp; &lsquo;You&rsquo;re a Britisher, I reckon,
+ain&rsquo;t yer?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes; why?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Wal, you&rsquo;ve a puty strong accent.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Think so?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Wal, I could jest tie a knot in it.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>This is a vulgar and repulsive story.&nbsp; But it is not
+fiction; and any picture of Californian life in 1850, without
+some such faithful touch of its local colour, would be inadequate
+and misleading.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2>
+<p>A <span class="GutSmall">STEAMER</span> took us down to
+Acapulco.&nbsp; It is probably a thriving port now.&nbsp; When we
+were there, a few native huts and two or three stone buildings at
+the edge of the jungle constituted the &lsquo;town.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+We bought some horses, and hired two men&mdash;a Mexican and a
+Yankee&mdash;for our ride to the city of Mexico.&nbsp; There was
+at that time nothing but a mule-track, and no public conveyance
+of any kind.&nbsp; Nothing could exceed the beauty of the
+scenery.&nbsp; Within 160 miles, as the crow flies, one rises up
+to the city of Mexico some 12,000 feet, with Popocatepetl
+overhanging it 17,500 feet high.&nbsp; In this short space one
+passes from intense tropical heat and vegetation to pines and
+laurels and the proximity of perpetual snows.&nbsp; The path in
+places winds along the brink of precipitous declivities, from the
+top of which one sees the climatic gradations blending one into
+another.&nbsp; So narrow are some of the mountain paths that a
+mule laden with ore has often one panier overhanging the valley a
+thousand feet below it.&nbsp; Constantly in the long trains of
+animals descending to the coast, a slip of the foot or a charge
+from behind, for they all come down the steep track with a
+jolting shuffle, sends mule and its load over the ledge.&nbsp; We
+found it very difficult in places to get out of the way in time
+to let the trains pass.&nbsp; Flocks of parrots and great macaws
+screeching and flying about added to the novelty of the
+scene.</p>
+<p>The villages, inhabited by a cross between the original
+Indians and the Spaniards, are about twenty miles apart.&nbsp; At
+one of these we always stayed for the night, sleeping in grass
+hammocks suspended between the posts of the verandah.&nbsp; The
+only travellers we fell in with were a party of four Americans,
+returning to the Eastern States from California with the gold
+they had won there.&nbsp; They had come in our steamer to
+Acapulco, and had left it a few hours before we did.&nbsp; As the
+villages were so far apart we necessarily had to stop at night in
+the same one.&nbsp; The second time this happened they, having
+arrived first, had quartered themselves on the Alcalde or
+principal personage of the place.&nbsp; Our guide took us to the
+same house; and although His Worship, who had a better supply of
+maize for the horses, and a few more chickens to sell than the
+other natives, was anxious to accommodate us, the four Americans,
+a very rough-looking lot and armed to the teeth, wouldn&rsquo;t
+hear of it, but peremptorily bade us put up elsewhere.&nbsp; Our
+own American, who was much afraid of them, obeyed their commands
+without more ado.&nbsp; It made not the slightest difference to
+us, for one grass hammock is as soft as another, and the
+Alcalde&rsquo;s chickens were as tough as ours.</p>
+<p>Before the morning start, two of the diggers, rifles in hand,
+came over to us and plainly told us they objected to our
+company.&nbsp; Fred, with perfect good humour, assured them we
+had no thought of robbing them, and that as the villages were so
+far apart we had no choice in the matter.&nbsp; However, as they
+wished to travel separate from us, if there should be two
+villages at all within suitable distances, they could stop at one
+and we at the other.&nbsp; There the matter rested.&nbsp; But our
+guide was more frightened than ever.&nbsp; They were four to two,
+he argued, for neither he nor the Mexican were armed.&nbsp; And
+there was no saying, etc., etc. . . .&nbsp; In short we had
+better stay where we were till they got through.&nbsp; Fred
+laughed at the fellow&rsquo;s alarm, and told him he might stop
+if he liked, but we meant to go on.</p>
+<p>As usual, when we reached the next stage, the diggers were
+before us; and when our men began to unsaddle at a hut about
+fifty yards from where they were feeding their horses, one of
+them, the biggest blackguard to look at of the lot, and though
+the fiercest probably the greatest cur, shouted at us to put the
+saddles on again and &lsquo;get out of that.&rsquo;&nbsp; He had
+warned us in the morning that they&rsquo;d had enough of us, and,
+with a volley of oaths, advised us to be off.&nbsp; Fred, who was
+in his shirt-sleeves, listened at first with a look of surprise
+at such cantankerous unreasonableness; but when the ruffian fell
+to swear and threaten, he burst into one of his contemptuous
+guffaws, turned his back and began to feed his horse with a
+corncob.&nbsp; Thus insulted, the digger ran into the hut (as I
+could see) to get his rifle.&nbsp; I snatched up my own, which I
+had been using every day to practise at the large iguanas and
+macaws, and, well protected by my horse, called out as I covered
+him, &lsquo;This is a double-barrelled rifle.&nbsp; If you raise
+yours I&rsquo;ll drop you where you stand.&rsquo;&nbsp; He was
+forestalled and taken aback.&nbsp; Probably he meant nothing but
+bravado.&nbsp; Still, the situation was a critical one.&nbsp;
+Obviously I could not wait till he had shot my friend.&nbsp; But
+had it come to shooting there would have been three left, unless
+my second barrel had disposed of another.&nbsp; Fortunately the
+&lsquo;boss&rsquo; of the digging party gauged the gravity of the
+crisis at a glance; and instead of backing him up as expected,
+swore at him for a &lsquo;derned fool,&rsquo; and ordered him to
+have no more to do with us.</p>
+<p>After that, as we drew near to the city, the country being
+more thickly populated, we no longer clashed.</p>
+<p>This is not a guide-book, and I have nothing to tell of that
+readers would not find better described in their
+&lsquo;Murray.&rsquo;&nbsp; We put up in an excellent hotel kept
+by M. Arago, the brother of the great French astronomer.&nbsp;
+The only other travellers in it besides ourselves were the famous
+dancer Cerito, and her husband the violin virtuoso, St.
+Leon.&nbsp; Luckily for me our English Minister was Mr. Percy
+Doyle, whom I had known as <i>attach&eacute;</i> at Paris when I
+was at Larue, and who was a great friend of the De
+Cubriers.&nbsp; We were thus provided with many advantages for
+&lsquo;sight-seeing&rsquo; in and about the city, and also for
+more distant excursions through credentials from the Mexican
+authorities.&nbsp; Under these auspices we visited the silver
+mines at Guadalajara, Potosi, and Guanajuata.</p>
+<p>The life in Mexico city was delightful, after a year&rsquo;s
+tramp.&nbsp; The hotel, as I have said, was to us
+luxurious.&nbsp; My room under the verandah opened on to a large
+and beautiful garden partially enclosed on two sides.&nbsp; As I
+lay in bed of a morning reading Prescott&rsquo;s &lsquo;History
+of Mexico,&rsquo; or watching the brilliant humming birds as they
+darted from flower to flower, and listened to the gentle plash of
+the fountain, my cup of enjoyment and romance was brimming
+over.</p>
+<p>Just before I left, an old friend of mine arrived from
+England.&nbsp; This was Mr. Joseph Clissold.&nbsp; He was a
+schoolfellow of mine at Sheen.&nbsp; He had pulled in the
+Cambridge boat, and played in the Cambridge eleven.&nbsp; He
+afterwards became a magistrate either in Australia or New
+Zealand.&nbsp; He was the best type of the good-natured,
+level-headed, hard-hitting Englishman.&nbsp; Curiously enough, as
+it turned out, the greater part of the only conversation we had
+(I was leaving the day after he came) was about the brigandage on
+the road between Mexico and Vera Cruz.&nbsp; He told me the
+passengers in the diligence which had brought him up had been
+warned at Jalapa that the road was infested by robbers; and
+should the coach be stopped they were on no account to offer
+resistance, for the robbers would certainly shoot them if they
+did.</p>
+<p>Fred chose to ride down to the coast, I went by coach.&nbsp;
+This held six inside and two by the driver.&nbsp; Three of the
+inside passengers sat with backs to the horses, the others facing
+them.&nbsp; My coach was full, and stifling hot and stuffy it was
+before we had done with it.&nbsp; Of the five others two were fat
+priests, and for twenty hours my place was between them.&nbsp;
+But in one way I had my revenge: I carried my loaded rifle
+between my knees, and a pistol in my belt.&nbsp; The dismay, the
+terror, the panic, the protestations, the entreaties and
+execrations of all the five, kept us at least from <i>ennui</i>
+for many a weary mile.&nbsp; I doubt whether the two priests ever
+thumbed their breviaries so devoutly in their lives.&nbsp;
+Perhaps that brought us salvation.&nbsp; We reached Vera Cruz
+without adventure, and in the autumn of &rsquo;51 Fred and I
+landed safely at Southampton.</p>
+<p>Two months after I got back, I read an account in the
+&lsquo;Times&rsquo; of &lsquo;Joe&rsquo; Clissold&rsquo;s return
+trip from Mexico.&nbsp; The coach in which he was travelling was
+stopped by robbers.&nbsp; Friend Joseph was armed with a
+double-barrelled smooth-bore loaded with slugs.&nbsp; He
+considered this on the whole more suitable than a rifle.&nbsp;
+When the captain of the brigands opened the coach door and,
+pistol in hand, politely proffered his request, Mr. Joe was quite
+ready for him, and confided the contents of one barrel to the
+captain&rsquo;s bosom.&nbsp; Seeing the fate of their commander,
+and not knowing what else the dilly might contain, the rest of
+the band dug spurs into their horses and fled.&nbsp; But the
+sturdy oarsman and smart cricketer was too quick for one of
+them&mdash;the horse followed his friends, but the rider stayed
+with his chief.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> following winter, my friend,
+George Cayley, was ordered to the south for his health.&nbsp; He
+went to Seville.&nbsp; I joined him there; and we took lodgings
+and remained till the spring.&nbsp; As Cayley published an
+amusing account of our travels, &lsquo;Las Aforjas, or the Bridle
+Roads of Spain,&rsquo; as this is more than fifty years
+ago&mdash;before the days of railways and tourists&mdash;and as I
+kept no journal of my own, I will make free use of his.</p>
+<p>A few words will show the terms we were on.</p>
+<p>I had landed at Cadiz, and had gone up the Guadalquivir in a
+steamer, whose advent at Seville my friend was on the look-out
+for.&nbsp; He describes his impatience for her arrival.&nbsp; By
+some mistake he is misinformed as to the time; he is a quarter of
+an hour late.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;A remnant of passengers yet bustled around the luggage,
+arguing, struggling and bargaining with a contentious company of
+porters.&nbsp; Alas! H. was not to be seen among them.&nbsp;
+There was still a chance; he might be one of the passengers who
+had got ashore before my coming down, and I was preparing to rush
+back to the city to ransack the hotels.&nbsp; Just then an
+internal convulsion shook the swarm around the luggage pile; out
+burst a little Gallego staggering under a huge British
+portmanteau, and followed by its much desired, and now almost
+despaired of, proprietor.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I saw him come bowling up the slope with his familiar
+gait, evidently unconscious of my presence, and wearing that
+sturdy and almost hostile demeanour with which a true Briton
+marches into a strange city through the army of officious
+importunates who never fail to welcome the true Briton&rsquo;s
+arrival.&nbsp; As he passed the barrier he came close to me in
+the crowd, still without recognising me, for though straight
+before his nose I was dressed in the costume of the people.&nbsp;
+I touched his elbow and he turned upon me with a look of
+impatient defiance, thinking me one persecutor more.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;How quickly the expression changed, etc., etc.&nbsp; We
+rushed into each other&rsquo;s arms, as much as the many great
+coats slung over his shoulders, and the deep folds of cloak in
+which I was enveloped, would mutually permit.&nbsp; Then, saying
+more than a thousand things in a breath, or rather in no breath
+at all, we set off in great glee for my lodgings, forgetting in
+the excitement the poor little porter who was following at full
+trot, panting and puffing under the heavy portmanteau.&nbsp; We
+got home, but were no calmer.&nbsp; We dined, but could not
+eat.&nbsp; We talked, but the news could not be persuaded to come
+out quick enough.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Who has not known what is here described?&nbsp; Who does not
+envy the freshness, the enthusiasm, of such bubbling of warm
+young hearts?&nbsp; Oh, the pity of it! if these generous
+emotions should prove as transient as youth itself.&nbsp; And
+then, when one of those young hearts is turned to dust, and one
+is left to think of it&mdash;why then, &rsquo;tis not much
+comfort to reflect that&mdash;nothing in the world is
+commoner.</p>
+<p>We got a Spanish master and worked industriously, also picked
+up all the Andalusian we could, which is as much like pure
+Castilian as wold-Yorkshire is to English.&nbsp; I also took
+lessons on the guitar.&nbsp; Thus prepared, I imitated my friend
+and adopted the ordinary costume of the Andalusian peasant:
+breeches, ornamented with rows of silvered buttons, gaiters, a
+short jacket with a red flower-pot and blue lily on the back, and
+elbows with green and scarlet patterns, a red <i>faja</i> or
+sash, and the sombrero which I believe is worn nowhere except in
+the bull-ring.&nbsp; The whole of this picturesque dress is now,
+I think, given up.&nbsp; I have spent the last two winters in the
+south of Spain, but have not once seen it.</p>
+<p>It must not be supposed that we chose this
+&lsquo;get-up&rsquo; to gratify any &aelig;sthetic taste of our
+own or other people&rsquo;s; it was long before the days of the
+&lsquo;Too-toos,&rsquo; whom Mr. Gilbert brought to a timely
+end.&nbsp; We had settled to ride through Spain from Gibraltar to
+Bayonne, choosing always the bridle-roads so as to avoid anything
+approaching a beaten track.&nbsp; We were to visit the principal
+cities and keep more or less a northerly course, staying on the
+way at such places as Malaga, Cordova, Toledo, Madrid,
+Valladolid, and Burgos.&nbsp; The rest was to be left to
+chance.&nbsp; We were to take no map; and when in doubt as to
+diverging roads, the toss of a coin was to settle it.&nbsp; This
+programme was conscientiously adhered to.&nbsp; The object of the
+dress then was obscurity.&nbsp; For safety (brigands abounded)
+and for economy, it was desirable to pass unnoticed.&nbsp; We
+never knew in what dirty <i>posada</i> or road-side <i>venta</i>
+we should spend the night.&nbsp; For the most part it was at the
+resting-place of the muleteers, which would be nothing but a
+roughly paved dark chamber, one end occupied by mules and the
+other by their drivers.&nbsp; We made our own omelets and salad
+and chocolate; with the exception of the never failing
+<i>bacallao</i>, or salt fish, we rarely had anything else; and
+rolling ourselves into our cloaks, with saddles for pillows,
+slept amongst the muleteers on the stone flags.&nbsp; We had
+bought a couple of ponies in the Seville market for 7<i>l.</i>
+and 8<i>l.</i>&nbsp; Our <i>alforjas</i> or saddlebags contained
+all we needed.&nbsp; Our portmanteaus were sent on from town to
+town, wherever we had arranged to stop.&nbsp; Rough as the life
+was, we saw the people of Spain as no ordinary travellers could
+hope to see them.&nbsp; The carriers, the shepherds, the
+publicans, the travelling merchants, the priests, the barbers,
+the <i>molineras</i> of Antequera, the Maritornes&rsquo;, the
+Sancho Panzas&mdash;all just as they were seen by the immortal
+knight.</p>
+<p>From the <i>mozos de la cuadra</i> (ostlers) and
+<i>arrieros</i>, upwards and downwards, nowhere have I met, in
+the same class, with such natural politeness.&nbsp; This is much
+changed for the worse now; but before the invasion of tourists
+one never passed a man on the road who did not salute one with a
+&lsquo;Vaya usted con Dios.&rsquo;&nbsp; Nor would the most
+indigent vagabond touch the filthy <i>bacallao</i> which he drew
+from his wallet till he had courteously addressed the stranger
+with the formula &lsquo;Quiere usted comer?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+(&lsquo;Will your Lordship please to eat?&rsquo;)&nbsp; The
+contrast between the people and the nobles in this respect was
+very marked.&nbsp; We saw something of the latter in the club at
+Seville, where one met men whose high-sounding names and titles
+have come down to us from the greatest epochs of Spanish
+history.&nbsp; Their ignorance was surprising.&nbsp; Not one of
+them had been farther than Madrid.&nbsp; Not one of them knew a
+word of any language but his own, nor was he acquainted with the
+rudiments even of his country&rsquo;s history.&nbsp; Their
+conversation was restricted to the bull-ring and the cockpit, to
+cards and women.&nbsp; Their chief aim seemed to be to stagger us
+with the number of quarterings they bore upon their escutcheons;
+and they appraised others by a like estimate.</p>
+<p>Cayley, tickled with the humour of their childish vanity,
+painted an elaborate coat of arms, which he stuck in the crown of
+his hat, and by means of which he explained to them that he too
+was by rights a Spanish nobleman.&nbsp; With the utmost gravity
+he delivered some such medley as this: His Iberian origin dated
+back to the time of Hannibal, who, after his defeat of the Papal
+forces and capture of Rome, had, as they well knew, married
+Princess Peri Banou, youngest daughter of Ferdinand and
+Isabella.&nbsp; The issue of the marriage was the famous Cardinal
+Chicot, from whom he&mdash;George Cayley&mdash;was of direct male
+descent.&nbsp; When Chicot was slain by Oliver Cromwell at the
+battle of Hastings, his descendants, foiled in their attempt to
+capture England with the Spanish Armada, settled in the
+principality of Yorkshire, adopted the noble name of Cayley, and
+still governed that province as members of the British
+Parliament.</p>
+<p>From that day we were treated with every mark of
+distinction.</p>
+<p>Here is another of my friend&rsquo;s pranks.&nbsp; I will let
+Cayley speak; for though I kept no journal, we had agreed to
+write a joint account of our trip, and our notebooks were common
+property.</p>
+<p>After leaving Malaga we met some beggars on the road, to one
+of whom, &lsquo;an old hag with one eye and a grizzly
+beard,&rsquo; I threw the immense sum of a couple of 2-cuarto
+pieces.&nbsp; An old man riding behind us on an ass with empty
+panniers, seeing fortunes being scattered about the road with
+such reckless and unbounded profusion, came up alongside, and
+entered into a piteous detail of his poverty.&nbsp; When he wound
+up with plain begging, the originality and boldness of the idea
+of a mounted beggar struck us in so humorous a light that we
+could not help laughing.&nbsp; As we rode along talking his case
+over, Cayley said, &lsquo;Suppose we rob him.&nbsp; He has sold
+his market produce in Malaga, and depend upon it, has a pocketful
+of money.&rsquo;&nbsp; We waited for him to come up.&nbsp; When
+he got fairly between us, Cayley pulled out his revolver (we both
+carried pistols) and thus addressed him:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Impudent old scoundrel! stand still.&nbsp; If thou
+stirr&rsquo;st hand or foot, or openest thy mouth, I will slay
+thee like a dog.&nbsp; Thou greedy miscreant, who art evidently a
+man of property and hast an ass to ride upon, art not satisfied
+without trying to rob the truly poor of the alms we give
+them.&nbsp; Therefore hand over at once the two dollars for which
+thou hast sold thy cabbages for double what they were
+worth.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The old culprit fell on his knees, and trembling violently,
+prayed Cayley for the love of the Virgin to spare him.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;One moment, <i>caballeros</i>,&rsquo; he cried,
+&lsquo;I will give you all I possess.&nbsp; But I am poor, very
+poor, and I have a sick wife at the disposition of your
+worships.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Wherefore art thou fumbling at thy foot?&nbsp; Thou
+carriest not thy wife in thy shoe?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I cannot untie the string&mdash;my hand trembles; will
+your worships permit me to take out my knife?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>He did so, and cutting the carefully knotted thong of a
+leather bag which had been concealed in the leg of his stocking,
+poured out a handful of small coin and began to weep
+piteously.</p>
+<p>Said Cayley, &lsquo;Come, come, none of that, or we shall feel
+it our duty to shoot thy donkey that thou may&rsquo;st have
+something to whimper for.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The genuine tears of the poor old fellow at last touched the
+heart of the jester.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;We know now that thou art poor,&rsquo; said he,
+&lsquo;for we have taken all thou hadst.&nbsp; And as it is the
+religion of the Ingleses, founded on the practice of their
+celebrated saint, Robino Hoodo, to levy funds from the rich for
+the benefit of the needy, hold out thy sombero, and we will
+bestow a trifle upon thee.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>So saying he poured back the plunder; to which was added, to
+the astonishment of the receiver, some supplementary pieces that
+nearly equalled the original sum.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Before</span> setting out from Seville we
+had had our Foreign Office passports duly
+<i>vis&eacute;d</i>.&nbsp; Our profession was given as that of
+travelling artists, and the <i>vis&eacute;</i> included the
+permission to carry arms.&nbsp; More than once the sight of our
+pistols caused us to be stopped by the <i>carabineros</i>.&nbsp;
+On one occasion these road-guards disputed the wording of the
+<i>vis&eacute;</i>.&nbsp; They protested that &lsquo;armas&rsquo;
+meant &lsquo;escopetas,&rsquo; not pistols, which were
+forbidden.&nbsp; Cayley indignantly retorted, &lsquo;Nothing is
+forbidden to Englishmen.&nbsp; Besides, it is specified in our
+passports that we are &lsquo;personas de toda confianza,&rsquo;
+which checkmated them.</p>
+<p>We both sketched, and passed ourselves off as
+&lsquo;retratistas&rsquo; (portrait painters), and did a small
+business in this way&mdash;rather in the shape of caricatures, I
+fear, but which gave much satisfaction.&nbsp; We charged one
+peseta (seven-pence), or two, a head, according to the means of
+the sitter.&nbsp; The fiction that we were earning our bread
+wholesomely tended to moderate the charge for it.</p>
+<p>Passing through the land of Don Quixote&rsquo;s exploits, we
+reverentially visited any known spot which these had rendered
+famous.&nbsp; Amongst such was the <i>venta</i> of Quesada, from
+which, or from Quixada, as some conjecture, the knight derived
+his surname.&nbsp; It was here, attracted by its castellated
+style, and by two &lsquo;ladies of pleasure&rsquo; at its
+door&mdash;whose virginity he at once offered to defend, that he
+spent the night of his first sally.&nbsp; It was here that, in
+his shirt, he kept guard till morning over the armour he had laid
+by the well.&nbsp; It was here that, with his spear, he broke the
+head of the carrier whom he took for another knight bent on the
+rape of the virgin princesses committed to his charge.&nbsp;
+Here, too, it was that the host of the <i>venta</i> dubbed him
+with the coveted knighthood which qualified him for his noble
+deeds.</p>
+<p>To Quesada we wended our way.&nbsp; We asked the Se&ntilde;or
+Huesped whether he knew anything of the history of his
+<i>venta</i>.&nbsp; Was it not very ancient?</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Oh no, it was quite modern.&nbsp; But on the site of it
+had stood a fine <i>venta</i> which was burnt down at the time of
+the war.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;An old building?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes, indeed! <i>a cosa de siempre</i>&mdash;thing of
+always.&nbsp; Nothing, was left of it now but that well, and the
+stone trough.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>These bore marks of antiquity, and were doubtless as the
+gallant knight had left them.&nbsp; Curiously, too, there were
+remains of an outhouse with a crenellated parapet, suggestive
+enough of a castle.</p>
+<p>From Quesada we rode to Argamasilla del Alba, where Cervantes
+was imprisoned, and where the First Part of Don Quixote was
+written.</p>
+<p>In his Life of Cervantes, Don Gregorio Mayano throws some
+doubt upon this.&nbsp; Speaking of the attacks of his
+contemporary, the &lsquo;Aragonian,&rsquo; Don Gregorio writes (I
+give Ozell&rsquo;s translation): &lsquo;As for this scandalous
+fellow&rsquo;s saying that Cervantes wrote his First Part of
+&ldquo;Don Quixote&rdquo; in a prison, and that that might make
+it so dull and incorrect, Cervantes did not think fit to give any
+answer concerning his being imprisoned, perhaps to avoid giving
+offence to the ministers of justice; for certainly his
+imprisonment must not have been ignominious, since Cervantes
+himself voluntarily mentions it in his Preface to the First Part
+of &ldquo;Don Quixote.&rdquo;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>This reasoning, however, does not seem conclusive; for the
+only reference to the subject in the preface is as follows:
+&lsquo;What could my sterile and uncultivated genius produce but
+the history of a child, meagre, adust, and whimsical, full of
+various wild imaginations never thought of before; like one you
+may suppose born in a prison, where every inconvenience keeps its
+residence, and every dismal sound its habitation?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We took up our quarters in the little town at the
+&lsquo;Posada de la Mina.&rsquo;&nbsp; While our <i>olla</i> was
+being prepared; we asked the hostess whether she had ever heard
+of the celebrated Don Miguel de Cervantes, who had been
+imprisoned there?&nbsp; (I will quote Cayley).</p>
+<p>&lsquo;No, Se&ntilde;ores; I think I have heard of one
+Cervantes, but he does not live here at present.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Do you know anything of Don Quixote?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Oh, yes.&nbsp; He was a great <i>caballero</i>, who
+lived here some years ago.&nbsp; His house is over the way, on
+the other side of the <i>plaza</i>, with the arms over the
+door.&nbsp; The father of the Alcalde is the oldest man in the
+<i>pueblo</i>; perhaps he may remember him.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We were amused at his hero&rsquo;s fame outliving that of the
+author.&nbsp; But is it not so with others&mdash;the writers of
+the Book of Job, of the Pentateuch, and perhaps, too, of the
+&lsquo;Iliad,&rsquo; if not of the &lsquo;Odyssey&rsquo;?</p>
+<p>But, to let Cayley speak:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;While we were undressing to go to bed, three gentlemen
+were announced and shown in.&nbsp; We begged them to be seated. .
+. .&nbsp; We sat opposite on the ends of our respective beds to
+hear what they might have to communicate.&nbsp; A venerable old
+man opened the conference.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;We have understood, gentlemen, that you have
+come hither seeking for information respecting the famous Don
+Quixote, and we have come to give you such information as we may;
+but, perhaps you will understand me better if I speak in
+Latin.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;We have learnt the Latin at our schools, but are
+more accustomed to converse in Castilian; pray
+proceed.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&ldquo;I am the Medico of the place, an old man, as you
+see; and what little I know has reached me by tradition.&nbsp; It
+is reported that Cervantes was paying his addresses to a young
+lady, whose name was Quijana or Quijada.&nbsp; The Alcalde,
+disapproving of the suit, put him into a dungeon under his house,
+and kept him there a year.&nbsp; Once he escaped and fled, but he
+was taken in Toboso, and brought back.&nbsp; Cervantes wrote
+&lsquo;Don Quixote&rsquo; as a satire on the Alcalde, who was a
+very proud man, full of chivalresque ideas.&nbsp; You can see the
+dungeon to-morrow; but you should see the <i>batanes</i>
+(water-mills) of the Guadiana, whose &lsquo;golpear&rsquo; so
+terrified Sancho Panza.&nbsp; They are at about three leagues
+distance.&rdquo;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The old gentleman added that he was proud to receive strangers
+who came to do honour to the memory of his illustrious townsman;
+and hoped we would visit him next day, on our return from the
+fulling-mills, when he would have the pleasure of conducting us
+to the house of the Quijanas, in the cellars of which Cervantes
+was confined.</p>
+<p>To the <i>batanes</i> we went next morning.&nbsp; Their
+historical importance entitles them to an accurate
+description.&nbsp; None could be more lucid than that of my
+companion.&nbsp; &lsquo;These clumsy, ancient machines are
+composed of a couple of huge wooden mallets, slung in a timber
+framework, which, being pushed out of the perpendicular by knobs
+on a water-wheel, clash back again alternately in two troughs,
+pounding severely whatever may be put in between the face of the
+mallet and the end of the trough into which the water
+runs.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>It will be remembered that, after a copious meal, Sancho
+having neglected to replenish the gourd, both he and his master
+suffered greatly from thirst.&nbsp; It was now &lsquo;so
+dark,&rsquo; says the history, &lsquo;that they could see
+nothing; but they had not gone two hundred paces when a great
+noise of water reached their ears. . . .&nbsp; The sound rejoiced
+them exceedingly; and, stopping to listen from whence it came,
+they heard on a sudden another dreadful noise, which abated their
+pleasure occasioned by that of the water, especially
+Sancho&rsquo;s. . . .&nbsp; They heard a dreadful din of irons
+and chains rattling across one another, and giving mighty strokes
+in time and measure which, together with the furious noise of the
+water, would have struck terror into any other heart than that of
+Don Quixote.&rsquo;&nbsp; For him it was but an opportunity for
+some valorous achievement.&nbsp; So, having braced on his buckler
+and mounted Rosinante, he brandished his spear, and explained to
+his trembling squire that by the will of Heaven he was reserved
+for deeds which would obliterate the memory of the Platirs,
+Tablantes, the Olivantes, and Belianesas, with the whole tribe of
+the famous knights-errant of times past.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Wherefore, straighten Rosinante&rsquo;s girths a
+little,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;and God be with you.&nbsp; Stay
+for me here three days, and no more; if I do not return in that
+time you may go to Toboso, where you shall say to my incomparable
+Lady Dulcinea that her enthralled knight died in attempting
+things that might have made him worthy to be styled
+&ldquo;hers.&rdquo;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Sancho, more terrified than ever at the thoughts of being left
+alone, reminded his master that it was unwise to tempt God by
+undertaking exploits from which there was no escaping but by a
+miracle; and, in order to emphasize this very sensible remark,
+secretly tied Rosinante&rsquo;s hind legs together with his
+halter.&nbsp; Seeing the success of his contrivance, he said:
+&lsquo;Ah, sir! behold how Heaven, moved by my tears and prayers,
+has ordained that Rosinante cannot go,&rsquo; and then warned him
+not to set Providence at defiance.&nbsp; Still Sancho was much
+too frightened by the infernal clatter to relax his hold of the
+knight&rsquo;s saddle.&nbsp; For some time he strove to beguile
+his own fears with a very long story about the goatherd Lope
+Ruiz, who was in love with the shepherdess
+Torralva&mdash;&lsquo;a jolly, strapping wench, a little
+scornful, and somewhat masculine.&rsquo;&nbsp; Now, whether owing
+to the cold of the morning, which was at hand, or whether to some
+lenitive diet on which he had supped, it so befell that Sancho .
+. . what nobody could do for him.&nbsp; The truth is, the honest
+fellow was overcome by panic, and under no circumstances would,
+or did, he for one instant leave his master&rsquo;s side.&nbsp;
+Nay, when the knight spurred his steed and found it could not
+move, Sancho reminded him that the attempt was useless, since
+Rosinante was restrained by enchantment.&nbsp; This the knight
+readily admitted, but stoutly protested that he himself was
+anything but enchanted by the close proximity of his squire.</p>
+<p>We all remember the grave admonitions of Don Quixote, and the
+ingenious endeavours of Sancho to lay the blame upon the
+knight.&nbsp; But the final words of the Don contain a moral
+apposite to so many other important situations, that they must
+not be omitted here.&nbsp; &lsquo;Apostare, replic&oacute;
+Sancho, que pensa vuestra merced que yo he hecho de mi persona
+alguna cosa que no deba.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;I will lay a
+wager,&rsquo; replied Sancho, &lsquo;that your worship thinks
+that I have &amp;c.&rsquo;&nbsp; The brief, but memorable, answer
+was: &lsquo;Peor es meneallo, amigo Sancho,&rsquo; which, as no
+translation could do justice to it, must be left as it
+stands.&nbsp; <i>Quieta non movere</i>.</p>
+<p>We were nearly meeting with an adventure here.&nbsp; While I
+was busy making a careful drawing of the <i>batanes</i>,
+Cayley&rsquo;s pony was as much alarmed by the rushing waters as
+had been Sancho Panza.&nbsp; In his endeavours to picket the
+animal, my friend dropped a pistol which I had lent him to
+practise with, although he carried a revolver of his own.&nbsp;
+Not till he had tied up the pony at some little distance did he
+discover the loss.&nbsp; In vain he searched the spot where he
+knew the pistol must have escaped from his <i>faja</i>.&nbsp;
+Near it, three rough-looking knaves in shaggy goatskin garments,
+with guns over their shoulders, were watching the progress of my
+sketch.&nbsp; On his return Cayley asked two of these (the third
+moved away as he came up) whether they had seen the pistol.&nbsp;
+They declared they had not; upon which he said he must search
+them.&nbsp; He was not a man to be trifled with, and although
+they refused at first, they presently submitted.&nbsp; He then
+overtook the third, and at once accused him of the theft.&nbsp;
+The man swore he knew nothing of the lost weapon, and brought his
+gun to the charge.&nbsp; As he did so, Cayley caught sight of the
+pistol under the fellow&rsquo;s sheepskin jacket, and with
+characteristic promptitude seized it, while he presented a
+revolver at the thief&rsquo;s head.&nbsp; All this he told me
+with great glee a minute or two later.</p>
+<p>When we got back to Argamasilla the Medico was already
+awaiting us.&nbsp; He conducted us to the house of the Quijanas,
+where an old woman-servant, lamp in hand, showed the way down a
+flight of steps into the dungeon.&nbsp; It was a low vaulted
+chamber, eight feet high, ten broad, and twenty-four long, dimly
+lighted by a lancet window six feet from the ground.&nbsp; She
+confidently informed us that Cervantes was in the habit of
+writing at the farthest end, and that he was allowed a lamp for
+the purpose.&nbsp; We accepted the information with implicit
+faith; silently picturing on our mental retinas the image of him
+whose genius had brightened the dark hours of millions for over
+three hundred years.&nbsp; One could see the spare form of the
+man of action pacing up and down his cell, unconscious of prison
+walls, roaming in spirit through the boundless realms of Fancy,
+his piercing eyes intent upon the conjured visions of his
+brain.&nbsp; One noted his vast expanse of brow, his short,
+crisp, curly hair, his high cheek-bones and singularly
+high-bridged nose, his refined mouth, small projecting chin and
+pointed beard.&nbsp; One noticed, too, as he turned, the stump of
+the left wrist clasped by the remaining hand.&nbsp; Who could
+stand in such a presence and fail to bow with veneration before
+this insulted greatness!&nbsp; Potentates pass like Ozymandias,
+but not the men who, through the ages, help to save us from this
+tread-mill world, and from ourselves.</p>
+<p>We visited Cuenca, Segovia, and many an out-of-the-way
+spot.&nbsp; If it be true, as Don Quixote declares, that
+&lsquo;No hay libro tan malo que no tenga alguna cosa
+buena&rsquo; (&lsquo;there is no book so worthless that has not
+some good in it&rsquo;), still more true is this of a country
+like Spain.&nbsp; And the pleasantest places are just those which
+only by-roads lead to.&nbsp; In and near the towns every other
+man, if not by profession still by practice, is a beggar.&nbsp;
+From the seedy-looking rascal in the street, of whom you
+incautiously ask the way, and who piteously whines &lsquo;para
+zapatos&rsquo;&mdash;for the wear and tear of shoe leather, to
+the highest official, one and all hold out their hands for the
+copper <i>cuarto</i> or the eleemosynary sinecure.&nbsp; As it
+was then, so is it now; the Government wants support, and it is
+always to be had, at a price; deputies always want
+&lsquo;places.&rsquo;&nbsp; For every duty the functionary
+performs, or ought to perform, he receives his bribe.&nbsp; The
+Government is too poor to keep him honest, but his
+<i>pour-boires</i> are not measured by his scruples.&nbsp; All is
+winked at, if the Ministry secures a vote.</p>
+<p>Away in the pretty rural districts, in the little villages
+amid the woods and the mountains, with their score or so of
+houses and their little chapel with its tinkling old bell and its
+poverty-stricken curate, the hard-working, simple-minded men are
+too proud and too honest to ask for more than a pinch of tobacco
+for the <i>cigarillo</i>.&nbsp; The maidens are comely, and as
+chaste as&mdash;can reasonably be expected.</p>
+<p>Madrid is worth visiting&mdash;not for its bull-fights, which
+are disgusting proofs of man&rsquo;s natural brutality, but for
+its picture gallery.&nbsp; No one knows what Velasquez could do,
+or has done, till he has seen Madrid; and Charles V. was
+practically master of Europe when the collection was in his
+hands.&nbsp; The Escurial&rsquo;s chief interests are in its
+associations with Charles V. and Philip II.&nbsp; In the dark and
+gloomy little bedroom of the latter is a small window opening
+into the church, so that the King could attend the services in
+bed if necessary.</p>
+<p>It cannot be said of Philip that he was nothing if not
+religious, for Nero even was not a more indefatigable murderer,
+nor a more diabolical specimen of cruelty and superstition.&nbsp;
+The very thought of the wretch tempts one to revolt at human
+piety, at any rate where priestcraft and its fabrications are at
+the bottom of it.</p>
+<p>When at Madrid we met Mr. Arthur Birch.&nbsp; He had been with
+Cayley at Eton, as captain of the school.&nbsp; While we were
+together, he received and accepted the offer of an Eton
+mastership.&nbsp; We were going by diligence to Toledo, and Birch
+agreed to go with us.&nbsp; I mention the fact because the place
+reminds me of a clever play upon its name by the Eton
+scholar.&nbsp; Cayley bought a Toledo sword-blade, and asked
+Birch for a motto to engrave upon it.&nbsp; In a minute or two he
+hit off this: <span class="smcap">Timetoletum</span>, which reads
+Time Toletum=Honour Toledo, or Timeto Letum=Fear death.&nbsp;
+Cayley&rsquo;s attempts, though not so neat, were not bad.&nbsp;
+Here are a couple of them:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><p>Though slight I am, no slight I stand,<br />
+Saying my master&rsquo;s sleight of hand.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>or:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><p>Come to the point; unless you do,<br />
+The point will shortly come to you.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Birch got the Latin poem medal at Cambridge the same year that
+Cayley got the English one.</p>
+<p>Before we set forth again upon our gipsy tramp, I received a
+letter from Mr. Ellice bidding me hasten home to contest the
+Borough of Cricklade in the General Election of 1852.&nbsp; Under
+these circumstances we loitered but little on the Northern
+roads.&nbsp; At the end of May we reached Yrun.&nbsp; Here we
+sold our ponies&mdash;now quite worn out&mdash;for twenty-three
+dollars&mdash;about five guineas.&nbsp; So that a thousand miles
+of locomotion had cost us a little over five guineas
+apiece.&nbsp; Not counting hotels at Madrid and such smart
+places, our daily cost for selves and ponies rarely exceeded six
+pesetas, or three shillings each all told.&nbsp; The best of it
+was, the trip restored the health of my friend.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> February of this year, 1852,
+Lord Palmerston, aided by an incongruous force of Peelites and
+Protectionists, turned Lord John Russell out of office on his
+Militia Bill.&nbsp; Lord Derby, with Disraeli as Chancellor of
+the Exchequer and leader of the House of Commons, came into power
+on a cry for Protection.</p>
+<p>Not long after my return to England, I was packed off to
+canvas the borough of Cricklade.&nbsp; It was then a very
+extensive borough, including a large agricultural district, as
+well as Swindon, the headquarters of the Great Western
+Railway.&nbsp; For many years it had returned two Conservative
+members, Messrs. Nield and Goddard.&nbsp; It was looked upon as
+an impregnable Tory stronghold, and the fight was little better
+than a forlorn hope.</p>
+<p>My headquarters were at Coleshill, Lord Radnor&rsquo;s.&nbsp;
+The old lord had, in his Parliamentary days, been a Radical;
+hence, my advanced opinions found great favour in his eyes.&nbsp;
+My programme was&mdash;Free Trade, Vote by Ballot, and
+Disestablishment.&nbsp; Two of these have become common-places
+(one perhaps effete), and the third is nearer to accomplishment
+than it was then.</p>
+<p>My first acquaintance with a constituency, amongst whom I
+worked enthusiastically for six weeks, was comic enough.&nbsp; My
+instructions were to go to Swindon; there an agent, whom I had
+never seen, would join me.&nbsp; A meeting of my supporters had
+been arranged by him, and I was to make my maiden speech in the
+market-place.</p>
+<p>My address, it should be stated&mdash;ultra-Radical, of
+course&mdash;was mainly concocted for me by Mr. Cayley, an almost
+rabid Tory, and then member for the North Riding of Yorkshire,
+but an old Parliamentary hand; and, in consequence of my
+attachment to his son, at that time and until his death, like a
+father to me.</p>
+<p>When the train stopped at Swindon, there was a crowd of
+passengers, but not a face that I knew; and it was not till all
+but one or two had left, that a business-looking man came up and
+asked if I were the candidate for Cricklade.&nbsp; He told me
+that a carriage was in attendance to take us up to the town; and
+that a procession, headed by a band, was ready to accompany us
+thither.&nbsp; The procession was formed mainly of the Great
+Western boiler-makers and artisans.&nbsp; Their enthusiasm seemed
+slightly disproportioned to the occasion; and the vigour of the
+brass, and especially of the big drum, so filled my head with
+visions of Mr. Pickwick and his friend the Honourable Samuel
+Slumkey, that by the time I reached the market-place, I had
+forgotten every syllable of the speech which I had carefully
+learnt by heart.&nbsp; Nor was it the band alone that upset me;
+going up the hill the carriage was all but capsized by the
+frightened horses and the breaking of the pole.&nbsp; The gallant
+boiler-makers, however, at once removed the horses, and dragged
+the carriage with cheers of defiance into the crowd awaiting
+us.</p>
+<p>My agent had settled that I was to speak from a window of the
+hotel.&nbsp; The only available one was an upper window, the
+lower sash of which could not be persuaded to keep up without
+being held.&nbsp; The consequence was, just as I was getting over
+the embarrassment of extemporary oration, down came the sash and
+guillotined me.&nbsp; This put the crowd in the best of humours;
+they roared with laughter, and after that we got on capitally
+together.</p>
+<p>A still more inopportune accident happened to me later in the
+day, when speaking at Shrivenham.&nbsp; A large yard enclosed by
+buildings was chosen for the meeting.&nbsp; The difficulty was to
+elevate the speaker above the heads of the assembly.&nbsp; In one
+corner of the yard was a water-butt.&nbsp; An ingenious elector
+got a board, placed it on the top of the butt&mdash;which was
+full of water&mdash;and persuaded me to make this my
+rostrum.&nbsp; Here, again, in the midst of my
+harangue&mdash;perhaps I stamped to emphasize my horror of small
+loaves and other Tory abominations&mdash;the board gave way; and
+I narrowly escaped a ducking by leaping into the arms of a
+&lsquo;supporter.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The end of it all was that my agent at the last moment threw
+up the sponge.&nbsp; The farmers formed a serried phalanx against
+Free Trade; it was useless to incur the expense of a poll.&nbsp;
+Then came the bill.&nbsp; It was a heavy one; for in addition to
+my London agent&mdash;a professional electioneering
+functionary&mdash;were the local agents at towns like Malmesbury,
+Wootton Bassett, Shrivenham, &amp;c., &amp;c.&nbsp; My eldest
+brother, who was a soberer-minded politician than I, although
+very liberal to me in other ways, declined to support my
+political opinions.&nbsp; I myself was quite unable to pay the
+costs.&nbsp; Knowing this, Lord Radnor called me into his study
+as I was leaving Coleshill, and expressed himself warmly with
+respect to my labours; regretting the victory of the other side,
+he declared that, as the question of Protection would be disposed
+of, one of the two seats would be safe upon a future contest.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;And who,&rsquo; asked the old gentleman, with a
+benevolent grin on his face, &lsquo;who is going to pay your
+expenses?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Goodness knows, sir,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I hope they
+won&rsquo;t come down upon me.&nbsp; I haven&rsquo;t a thousand
+pounds in the world, unless I tap my fortune.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; said his Lordship, with a chuckle,
+&lsquo;I haven&rsquo;t paid my subscription to Brooks&rsquo;s
+yet, so I&rsquo;ll hand it over to you,&rsquo; and he gave me a
+cheque for &pound;500.</p>
+<p>The balance was obtained through Mr. Ellice from the patronage
+Secretary to the Treasury.&nbsp; At the next election, as Lord
+Radnor predicted, Lord Ashley, Lord Shaftesbury&rsquo;s eldest
+son, won one of the two seats for the Liberals with the greatest
+ease.</p>
+<p>As Coleshill was an open house to me from that time as long as
+Lord Radnor lived, I cannot take leave of the dear old man
+without an affectionate word at parting.&nbsp; Creevey has an
+ill-natured fling at him, as he has at everybody else, but a
+kinder-hearted and more perfect gentleman would be difficult to
+meet with.&nbsp; His personality was a marked one.&nbsp; He was a
+little man, with very plain features, a punch-like nose, an
+extensive mouth, and hardly a hair on his head.&nbsp; But in
+spite of these peculiarities, his face was pleasant to look at,
+for it was invariably animated by a sweet smile, a touch of
+humour, and a decided air of dignity.&nbsp; Born in 1779, he
+dressed after the orthodox Whig fashion of his youth, in buff and
+blue, his long-tailed coat reaching almost to his heels.&nbsp;
+His manner was a model of courtesy and simplicity.&nbsp; He used
+antiquated expressions: called London &lsquo;Lunnun,&rsquo; Rome
+&lsquo;Room,&rsquo; a balcony a &lsquo;balc&ouml;ny&rsquo;; he
+always spoke of the clergyman as the &lsquo;pearson,&rsquo; and
+called his daughter Lady Mary, &lsquo;Meary.&rsquo;&nbsp; Instead
+of saying &lsquo;this day week&rsquo; he would say this day
+sen&rsquo;nit&rsquo; (for sen&rsquo;night).</p>
+<p>The independence of his character was very noticeable.&nbsp;
+As an instance: A party of twenty people, say, would be invited
+for a given day.&nbsp; Abundance of carriages would be sent to
+meet the trains, so that all the guests would arrive in ample
+time for dinner.&nbsp; It generally happened that some of them,
+not knowing the habits of the house, or some duchess or great
+lady who might assume that clocks were made for her and not she
+for clocks, would not appear in the drawing-room till a quarter
+of an hour after the dinner gong had sounded.&nbsp; If anyone did
+so, he or she would find that everybody else had got through soup
+and fish.&nbsp; If no one but Lady Mary had been down when dinner
+was announced, his Lordship would have offered his arm to his
+daughter, and have taken his seat at the table alone.&nbsp; After
+the first night, no one was ever late.&nbsp; In the morning he
+read prayers to the household before breakfast with the same
+precise punctuality.</p>
+<p>Lady Mary Bouverie, his unmarried daughter, was the very best
+of hostesses.&nbsp; The house under her management was the
+perfection of comfort.&nbsp; She married an old and dear friend
+of mine, Sir James Wilde, afterwards the Judge, Lord
+Penzance.&nbsp; I was his &lsquo;best man.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>My &lsquo;Ride over the Rocky Mountains&rsquo; was now
+published; and, as the field was a new one, the writer was
+rewarded, for a few weeks, with invitations to dinner, and the
+usual tickets for &lsquo;drums&rsquo; and dances.&nbsp; To my
+astonishment, or rather to my alarm, I received a letter from the
+Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society (Charles Fox, or
+perhaps Sir George Simpson had, I think, proposed me&mdash;I
+never knew), to say that I had been elected a member.&nbsp;
+Nothing was further from my ambition.&nbsp; The very thought
+shrivelled me with a sense of ignorance and insignificance.&nbsp;
+I pictured to myself an assembly of old fogies crammed with all
+the &lsquo;ologies.&nbsp; I broke into a cold perspiration when I
+fancied myself called upon to deliver a lecture on the
+comparative sea-bottomy of the Oceanic globe, or give my theory
+of the simultaneous sighting by &lsquo;little Billee&rsquo; of
+&lsquo;Madagascar, and North, and South Amerikee.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Honestly, I had not the courage to accept; and, young Jackanapes
+as I was, left the Secretary&rsquo;s letter unanswered.</p>
+<p>But a still greater honour&mdash;perhaps the greatest
+compliment I ever had paid me&mdash;was to come.&nbsp; I had
+lodgings at this time in an old house, long since pulled down, in
+York Street.&nbsp; One day, when I was practising the fiddle, who
+should walk into my den but Rogers the poet!&nbsp; He had never
+seen me in his life.&nbsp; He was in his ninetieth year, and he
+had climbed the stairs to the first floor to ask me to one of his
+breakfast parties.&nbsp; To say nothing of Rogers&rsquo; fame,
+his wealth, his position in society, those who know what his
+cynicism and his worldliness were, will understand what such an
+effort, physical and moral, must have cost him.&nbsp; He always
+looked like a death&rsquo;s head, but his ghastly pallor, after
+that Alpine ascent, made me feel as if he had come&mdash;to
+stay.</p>
+<p>These breakfasts were entertainments of no ordinary
+distinction.&nbsp; The host himself was of greater interest than
+the most eminent of his guests.&nbsp; All but he, were more or
+less one&rsquo;s contemporaries: Rogers, if not quite as dead as
+he looked, was ancient history.&nbsp; He was old enough to have
+been the father of Byron, of Shelley, of Keats, and of
+Moore.&nbsp; He was several years older than Scott, or
+Wordsworth, or Coleridge, and only four years younger than
+Pitt.&nbsp; He had known all these men, and could, and did, talk
+as no other could talk, of all of them.&nbsp; Amongst those whom
+I met at these breakfasts were Cornewall Lewis, Delane, the
+Grotes, Macaulay, Mrs. Norton, Monckton Milnes, William Harcourt
+(the only one younger than myself), but just beginning to be
+known, and others of scarcely less note.</p>
+<p>During the breakfast itself, Rogers, though seated at table in
+an armchair, took no part either in the repast or in the
+conversation; he seemed to sleep until the meal was over.&nbsp;
+His servant would then place a cup of coffee before him, and,
+like a Laputian flapper, touch him gently on the shoulder.&nbsp;
+He would at once begin to talk, while others listened.&nbsp; The
+first time I witnessed this curious resurrection, I whispered
+something to my neighbour, at which he laughed.&nbsp; The old
+man&rsquo;s eye was too sharp for us.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You are laughing at me,&rsquo; said he; &lsquo;I dare
+say you young gentlemen think me an old fellow; but there are
+younger than I who are older.&nbsp; You should see Tommy
+Moore.&nbsp; I asked him to breakfast, but he&rsquo;s too
+weak&mdash;weak here, sir,&rsquo; and he tapped his
+forehead.&nbsp; &lsquo;I&rsquo;m not that.&rsquo;&nbsp; (This was
+the year that Moore died.)&nbsp; He certainly was not; but his
+whole discourse was of the past.&nbsp; It was as though he would
+not condescend to discuss events or men of the day.&nbsp; What
+were either to the days and men that he had known&mdash;French
+revolutions, battles of Trafalgar and Waterloo, a Nelson and a
+Buonaparte, a Pitt, a Burke, a Fox, a Johnson, a Gibbon, a
+Sheridan, and all the men of letters and all the poets of a
+century gone by?&nbsp; Even Macaulay had for once to hold his
+tongue; and could only smile impatiently at what perhaps he
+thought an old man&rsquo;s astonishing garrulity.&nbsp; But if a
+young and pretty woman talked to him, it was not his great age
+that he vaunted, nor yet the &lsquo;pleasures of
+memory&rsquo;&mdash;one envied the adroitness of his flattery,
+and the gracefulness of his repartee.</p>
+<p>My friend George Cayley had a couple of dingy little rooms
+between Parliament Street and the river.&nbsp; Much of my time
+was spent there with him.&nbsp; One night after dinner, quite
+late, we were building castles amidst tobacco clouds, when,
+following a &lsquo;May I come in?&rsquo; Tennyson made his
+appearance.&nbsp; This was the first time I had ever met
+him.&nbsp; We gave him the only armchair in the room; and pulling
+out his dudeen and placing afoot on each side of the hob of the
+old-fashioned little grate, he made himself comfortable before he
+said another word.&nbsp; He then began to talk of pipes and
+tobacco.&nbsp; And never, I should say, did this important topic
+afford so much ingenious conversation before.&nbsp; We discussed
+the relative merits of all the tobaccos in the world&mdash;of
+moist tobacco and dry tobacco, of old tobacco and new tobacco, of
+clay pipes and wooden pipes and meerschaum pipes.&nbsp; What was
+the best way to colour them, the advantages of colouring them,
+the beauty of the &lsquo;culotte,&rsquo; the coolness it gave to
+the smoke, &amp;c.&nbsp; We listened to the venerable
+sage&mdash;he was then forty-three and we only five or six and
+twenty&mdash;as we should have listened to a Homer or an
+Aristotle, and he thoroughly enjoyed our appreciation of his
+jokes.</p>
+<p>Some of them would have startled such of his admirers who knew
+him only by his poems; for his stories were anything but
+poetical&mdash;rather humorous one might say, on the whole.&nbsp;
+Here&rsquo;s one of them: he had called last week on the Duchess
+of Sutherland at Stafford House.&nbsp; Her two daughters were
+with her, the Duchess of Argyll and the beautiful Lady Constance
+Grosvenor, afterwards Duchess of Westminster.&nbsp; They happened
+to be in the garden.&nbsp; After strolling about for a while, the
+Mama Duchess begged him to recite some of his poetry.&nbsp; He
+chose &lsquo;Come into the garden, Maud&rsquo;&mdash;always a
+favourite of the poet&rsquo;s, and, as may be supposed, many were
+the fervid exclamations of &lsquo;How beautiful!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+When they came into the house, a princely groom of the chambers
+caught his eye and his ear, and, pointing to his own throat,
+courteously whispered: &lsquo;Your dress is not quite as you
+would wish it, sir.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I had come out without a necktie; and there I was,
+spouting my lines to the three Graces, as
+<i>d&eacute;collet&eacute;</i> as a strutting turkey
+cock.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The only other allusion to poetry or literature that night was
+a story I told him of a Mr. Thomas Wrightson, a Yorkshire banker,
+and a fanatical Swedenborgian.&nbsp; Tommy Wrightson, who was one
+of the most amiable and benevolent of men, spent his life in
+making a manuscript transcript of Swedenborg&rsquo;s works.&nbsp;
+His writing was a marvel of calligraphic art; he himself, a
+curiosity.&nbsp; Swedenborg was for him an avatar; but if he had
+doubted of Tennyson&rsquo;s ultimate apotheosis, I think he would
+have elected to seek him in &lsquo;the other place.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Anyhow, Mr. Wrightson avowed to me that he repeated
+&lsquo;Locksley Hall&rsquo; every morning of his life before
+breakfast.&nbsp; This I told Tennyson.&nbsp; His answer was a
+grunt; and in a voice from his boots, &lsquo;Ugh! enough to make
+a dog sick!&rsquo;&nbsp; I did my utmost to console him with the
+assurance that, to the best of my belief, Mr. Wrightson had once
+fallen through a skylight.</p>
+<p>As illustrating the characters of the admired and his admirer,
+it may be related that the latter, wishing for the poet&rsquo;s
+sign-manual, wrote and asked him for it.&nbsp; He addressed
+Tennyson, whom he had never seen, as &lsquo;My dear
+Alfred.&rsquo;&nbsp; The reply, which he showed to me, was
+addressed &lsquo;My dear Tom.&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">My</span> stepfather, Mr. Ellice, having
+been in two Ministries&mdash;Lord Grey&rsquo;s in 1830, and Lord
+Melbourne&rsquo;s in 1834&mdash;had necessarily a large
+parliamentary acquaintance; and as I could always dine at his
+house in Arlington Street when I pleased, I had constant
+opportunities of meeting most of the prominent Whig politicians,
+and many other eminent men of the day.&nbsp; One of the dinner
+parties remains fresh in my memory&mdash;not because of the
+distinguished men who happened to be there, but because of the
+statesman whose name has since become so familiar to the
+world.</p>
+<p>Some important question was before the House in which Mr.
+Ellice was interested, and upon which he intended to speak.&nbsp;
+This made him late for dinner, but he had sent word that his son
+was to take his place, and the guests were not to wait.&nbsp;
+When he came Lord John Russell greeted him with&mdash;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well, Ellice, who&rsquo;s up?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;A younger son of Salisbury&rsquo;s,&rsquo; was the
+reply; &lsquo;Robert Cecil, making his maiden speech.&nbsp; If I
+hadn&rsquo;t been in a hurry I should have stopped to listen to
+him.&nbsp; Unless I am very much mistaken, he&rsquo;ll make his
+mark, and we shall hear more of him.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>There were others dining there that night whom it is
+interesting to recall.&nbsp; The Grotes were there.&nbsp; Mrs.
+Grote, scarcely less remarkable than her husband; Lord Mahon,
+another historian (who married a niece of Mr. Ellice&rsquo;s),
+Lord Brougham, and two curious old men both remarkable, if for
+nothing else, for their great age.&nbsp; One was George Byng,
+father of the first Lord Strafford, and &lsquo;father&rsquo; of
+the House of Commons; the other Sir Robert Adair, who was
+Ambassador at Constantinople when Byron was there.&nbsp; Old Mr.
+Byng looked as aged as he was, and reminded one of Mr. Smallweed
+doubled up in his porter&rsquo;s chair.&nbsp; Quite different was
+his compeer.&nbsp; We were standing in the recess of the
+drawing-room window after dinner when Sir Robert said to me:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Very shaky, isn&rsquo;t he!&nbsp; Ah! he was my fag at
+Eton, and I&rsquo;ve got the best of it still.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Brougham having been twice in the same Government with Mr.
+Ellice, and being devoted to young Mrs. Edward Ellice, his
+charming daughter-in-law, was a constant visitor at 18 Arlington
+Street.&nbsp; Mrs. Ellice often told me of his peculiarities,
+which must evidently have been known to others.&nbsp; Walter
+Bagehot, speaking of him, says:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Singular stories of eccentricity and excitement, even
+of something more than either of these, darken these latter
+years.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>What Mrs. Ellice told me was, that she had to keep a sharp
+watch on Lord Brougham if he sat near her writing-table while he
+talked to her; for if there was any pretty little knick-knack
+within his reach he would, if her head were turned, slip it into
+his pocket.&nbsp; The truth is perhaps better than the dark hint,
+for certainly we all laughed at it as nothing but
+eccentricity.</p>
+<p>But the man who interested me most (for though when in the
+Navy I had heard a hundred legends of his exploits, I had never
+seen him before) was Lord Dundonald.&nbsp; Mr. Ellice presented
+me to him, and the old hero asked why I had left the Navy.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The finest service in the world; and likely, begad, to
+have something to do before long.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>This was only a year before the Crimean war.&nbsp; With his
+strong rough features and tousled mane, he looked like a grey
+lion.&nbsp; One expected to see him pick his teeth with a pocket
+boarding-pike.</p>
+<p>The thought of the old sailor always brings before me the
+often mooted question raised by the sentimentalists and
+humanitarians concerning the horrors of war.&nbsp; Not long after
+this time, the papers&mdash;the sentimentalist papers&mdash;were
+furious with Lord Dundonald for suggesting the adoption by the
+Navy of a torpedo which he himself, I think, had invented.&nbsp;
+The bare idea of such wholesale slaughter was revolting to a
+Christian world.&nbsp; He probably did not see much difference
+between sinking a ship with a torpedo, and firing a shell into
+her magazine; and likely enough had as much respect for the
+opinions of the woman-man as he had for the man-woman.</p>
+<p>There is always a large number of people in the world who
+suffer from emotional sensitiveness and susceptibility to nervous
+shocks of all kinds.&nbsp; It is curious to observe the different
+and apparently unallied forms in which these characteristics
+manifest themselves.&nbsp; With some, they exhibit extreme
+repugnance to the infliction of physical pain for whatever end;
+with others there seems to be a morbid dread of violated
+pudicity.&nbsp; Strangely enough the two phases are frequently
+associated in the same individual.&nbsp; Both tendencies are
+eminently feminine; the affinity lies in a hysterical
+nature.&nbsp; Thus, excessive pietism is a frequent concomitant
+of excessive sexual passion; this, though notably the case with
+women, is common enough with men of unduly neurotic
+temperaments.</p>
+<p>Only the other day some letters appeared in the
+&lsquo;Times&rsquo; about the flogging of boys in the Navy.&nbsp;
+And, as a sentimental argument against it, we were told by the
+Humanitarian Leaguers that it is &lsquo;obscene.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+This is just what might be expected, and bears out the foregoing
+remarks.&nbsp; But such saintly simplicity reminds us of the kind
+of squeamishness of which our old acquaintance Mephisto
+observes:</p>
+<blockquote><p>Man darf das nicht vor keuschen Ohren nennen,<br
+/>
+Was keusche Herzen nicht entbehren k&ouml;nnen.</p>
+<p>(Chaste ears find nothing but the devil in<br />
+What nicest fancies love to revel in.)</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>The same astute critic might have added:</p>
+<blockquote><p>And eyes demure that look away when seen,<br />
+Lose ne&rsquo;er a chance to peep behind the screen.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>It is all of a piece.&nbsp; We have heard of the parlour-maid
+who fainted because the dining-table had &lsquo;ceder
+legs,&rsquo; but never before that a &lsquo;switching&rsquo; was
+&lsquo;obscene.&rsquo;&nbsp; We do not envy the unwholesomeness
+of a mind so watchful for obscenity.</p>
+<p>Be that as it may, so far as humanity is concerned, this
+hypersensitive effeminacy has but a noxious influence; and all
+the more for the twofold reason that it is sometimes sincere,
+though more often mere cant and hypocrisy.&nbsp; At the best, it
+is a perversion of the truth; for emotion combined with
+ignorance, as it is in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of
+a thousand, is a serious obstacle in the path of rational
+judgment.</p>
+<p>Is sentimentalism on the increase?&nbsp; It seems to be so, if
+we are to judge by a certain portion of the Press, and by
+speeches in Parliament.&nbsp; But then, this may only mean that
+the propensity finds easier means of expression than it did in
+the days of dearer paper and fewer newspapers, and also that
+speakers find sentimental humanity an inexhaustible fund for
+political capital.&nbsp; The excess of emotional attributes in
+man over his reasoning powers must, one would think, have been at
+least as great in times past as it is now.&nbsp; Yet it is
+doubtful whether it showed itself then so conspicuously as it
+does at present.&nbsp; Compare the Elizabethan age with our
+own.&nbsp; What would be said now of the piratical deeds of such
+men as Frobisher, Raleigh, Gilbert, and Richard Greville?&nbsp;
+Suppose Lord Roberts had sent word to President Kruger that if
+four English soldiers, imprisoned at Pretoria, were molested, he
+would execute 2,000 Boers and send him their heads?&nbsp; The
+clap-trap cry of &lsquo;Barbaric Methods&rsquo; would have gone
+forth to some purpose; it would have carried every constituency
+in the country.&nbsp; Yet this is what Drake did when four
+English sailors were captured by the Spaniards, and imprisoned by
+the Spanish Viceroy in Mexico.</p>
+<p>Take the Elizabethan drama, and compare it with ours.&nbsp;
+What should we think of our best dramatist if, in one of his
+tragedies, a man&rsquo;s eyes were plucked out on the stage, and
+if he that did it exclaimed as he trampled on them, &lsquo;Out,
+vile jelly! where is thy lustre now?&rsquo; or of a Titus
+Andronicus cutting two throats, while his daughter
+&lsquo;&rsquo;tween her stumps doth hold a basin to receive their
+blood&rsquo;?</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Humanity,&rsquo; says Taine, speaking of these times,
+&lsquo;is as much lacking as decency.&nbsp; Blood, suffering,
+does not move them.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Heaven forbid that we should return to such brutality!&nbsp; I
+cite these passages merely to show how times are changed; and to
+suggest that with the change there is a decided loss of
+manliness.&nbsp; Are men more virtuous, do they love honour more,
+are they more chivalrous, than the Miltons, the Lovelaces, the
+Sidneys of the past?&nbsp; Are the women chaster or more
+gentle?&nbsp; No; there is more puritanism, but not more true
+piety.&nbsp; It is only the outside of the cup and the platter
+that are made clean, the inward part is just as full of
+wickedness, and all the worse for its hysterical
+fastidiousness.</p>
+<p>To what do we owe this tendency?&nbsp; Are we degenerating
+morally as well as physically?&nbsp; Consider the physical side
+of the question.&nbsp; Fifty years ago the standard height for
+admission to the army was five feet six inches.&nbsp; It is now
+lowered to five feet.&nbsp; Within the last ten years the
+increase in the urban population has been nearly three and a half
+millions.&nbsp; Within the same period the increase in the rural
+population is less than a quarter of one million.&nbsp; Three out
+of five recruits for the army are rejected; a large proportion of
+them because their teeth are gone or decayed.&nbsp; Do these
+figures need comment?&nbsp; Can you look for sound minds in such
+unsound bodies?&nbsp; Can you look for manliness, for
+self-respect, and self-control, or anything but animalistic
+sentimentality?</p>
+<p>It is not the character of our drama or of our works of
+fiction that promotes and fosters this propensity; but may it not
+be that the enormous increase in the number of theatres, and the
+prodigious supply of novels, may have a share in it, by their
+exorbitant appeal to the emotional, and hence neurotic, elements
+of our nature?&nbsp; If such considerations apply mainly to
+dwellers in overcrowded towns, there is yet another cause which
+may operate on those more favoured,&mdash;the vast increase in
+wealth and luxury.&nbsp; Wherever these have grown to excess,
+whether in Babylon, or Nineveh, or Thebes, or Alexandria, or
+Rome, they have been the symptoms of decadence, and forerunners
+of the nation&rsquo;s collapse.</p>
+<p>Let us be humane, let us abhor the horrors of war, and strain
+our utmost energies to avert them.&nbsp; But we might as well
+forbid the use of surgical instruments as the weapons that are
+most destructive in warfare.&nbsp; If a limb is rotting with
+gangrene, shall it not be cut away?&nbsp; So if the passions
+which occasion wars are inherent in human nature, we must face
+the evil stout-heartedly; and, for one, I humbly question whether
+any abolition of dum-dum bullets or other attempts to mitigate
+this disgrace to humanity, do, in the end, more good than
+harm.</p>
+<p>It is elsewhere that we must look for deliverance,&mdash;to
+the overwhelming power of better educated peoples; to closer
+intercourse between the nations; to the conviction that, from the
+most selfish point of view even, peace is the only path to
+prosperity; to the restraint of the baser Press which, for mere
+pelf, spurs the passions of the multitude instead of curbing
+them; and, finally, to deliverance from the &lsquo;all-potent
+wills of Little Fathers by Divine right,&rsquo; and from the
+ignoble ambition of bullet-headed uncles and brothers and
+cousins&mdash;a curse from which England, thank the Gods! is, and
+let us hope, ever will be, free.&nbsp; But there are more
+countries than one that are not so&mdash;just now; and the world
+may ere long have to pay the bitter penalty.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is curious if one lives long
+enough to watch the change of taste in books.&nbsp; I have no
+lending-library statistics at hand, but judging by the reading of
+young people, or of those who read merely for their amusement,
+the authors they patronise are nearly all living or very
+recent.&nbsp; What we old stagers esteemed as classical in
+fiction and <i>belles-lettres</i> are sealed books to the present
+generation.&nbsp; It is an exception, for instance, to meet with
+a young man or young woman who has read Walter Scott.&nbsp;
+Perhaps Balzac&rsquo;s reason is the true one.&nbsp; Scott, says
+he, &lsquo;est sans passion; il l&rsquo;ignore, ou
+peut-&ecirc;tre lui &eacute;tait-elle interdite par les
+m&oelig;urs hypocrites de son pays.&nbsp; Pour lui la femme est
+le devoir incarn&eacute;.&nbsp; A de rares exceptions
+pr&egrave;s, ses h&eacute;ro&iuml;nes sont absolument les
+m&ecirc;mes . . .&nbsp; La femme porte le d&eacute;sordre dans la
+soci&eacute;t&eacute; par la passion.&nbsp; La passion a des
+accidents infinis.&nbsp; Peignez donc les passions, vous aurez
+les sources immenses dont s&rsquo;est priv&eacute; ce grand
+g&eacute;nie pour &ecirc;tre lu dans toutes les familles de la
+prude Angleterre.&rsquo;&nbsp; Does not Thackeray lament that
+since Fielding no novelist has dared to face the national
+affectation of prudery?&nbsp; No English author who valued his
+reputation would venture to write as Anatole France writes, even
+if he could.&nbsp; Yet I pity the man who does not delight in the
+genius that created M. Bergeret.</p>
+<p>A well-known author said to me the other day, he did not
+believe that Thackeray himself would be popular were he writing
+now for the first time&mdash;not because of his freedom, but
+because the public taste has altered.&nbsp; No present age can
+predict immortality for the works of its day; yet to say that
+what is intrinsically good is good for all time is but a
+truism.&nbsp; The misfortune is that much of the best in
+literature shares the fate of the best of ancient monuments and
+noble cities; the cumulative rubbish of ages buries their
+splendours, till we know not where to find them.&nbsp; The day
+may come when the most valuable service of the man of letters
+will be to unearth the lost treasures and display them, rather
+than add his grain of dust to the ever-increasing middens.</p>
+<p>Is Carlyle forgotten yet, I wonder?&nbsp; How much did my
+contemporaries owe to him in their youth?&nbsp; How readily we
+followed a leader so sure of himself, so certain of his own
+evangel.&nbsp; What an aid to strength to be assured that the
+true hero is the morally strong man.&nbsp; One does not criticise
+what one loves; one didn&rsquo;t look too closely into the
+doctrine that, might is right, for somehow he managed to persuade
+us that right makes the might&mdash;that the strong man is the
+man who, for the most part, does act rightly.&nbsp; He is not
+over-patient with human frailty, to be sure, and is apt, as
+Herbert Spencer found, to fling about his scorn rather
+recklessly.&nbsp; One fancies sometimes that he has more respect
+for a genuine bad man than for a sham good one.&nbsp; In fact,
+his &lsquo;Eternal Verities&rsquo; come pretty much to the same
+as Darwin&rsquo;s &lsquo;Law of the advancement of all organic
+bodies&rsquo;; &lsquo;let the strong live, and the weakest
+die.&rsquo;&nbsp; He had no objection to seeing &lsquo;the young
+cuckoo ejecting its foster-brothers, or ants making
+slaves.&rsquo;&nbsp; But he atones for all this by his hatred of
+cant and hypocrisy.&nbsp; It is for his manliness that we love
+him, for his honesty, for his indifference to any mortal&rsquo;s
+approval save that of Thomas Carlyle.&nbsp; He convinces us that
+right thinking is good, but that right doing is much
+better.&nbsp; And so it is that he does honour to men of action
+like his beloved Oliver, and Fritz,&mdash;neither of them
+paragons of wisdom or of goodness, but men of doughty deeds.</p>
+<p>Just about this time I narrowly missed a longed-for chance of
+meeting this hero of my <i>penates</i>.&nbsp; Lady
+Ashburton&mdash;Carlyle&rsquo;s Lady Ashburton&mdash;knowing my
+admiration, kindly invited me to The Grange, while he was
+there.&nbsp; The house was full&mdash;mainly of ministers or
+ex-ministers,&mdash;Cornewall Lewis, Sir Charles Wood, Sir James
+Graham, Albany Fonblanque, Mr. Ellice, and Charles
+Buller&mdash;Carlyle&rsquo;s only pupil; but the great man
+himself had left an hour before I got there.&nbsp; I often met
+him afterwards, but never to make his acquaintance.&nbsp; Of
+course, I knew nothing of his special friendship for Lady
+Ashburton, which we are told was not altogether shared by Mrs.
+Carlyle; but I well remember the interest which Lady Ashburton
+seemed to take in his praise, how my enthusiasm seemed to please
+her, and how Carlyle and his works were topics she was never
+tired of discussing.</p>
+<p>The South Western line to Alresford was not then made, and I
+had to post part of the way from London to The Grange.&nbsp; My
+chaise companion was a man very well known in
+&lsquo;Society&rsquo;; and though not remarkably popular, was not
+altogether undistinguished, as the following little tale will
+attest.&nbsp; Frederick Byng, one of the Torrington branch of the
+Byngs, was chiefly famous for his sobriquet &lsquo;The
+Poodle&rsquo;; this he owed to no special merit of his own, but
+simply to the accident of his thick curly head of hair.&nbsp;
+Some, who spoke feelingly of the man, used to declare that he had
+fulfilled the promises of his youth.&nbsp; What happened to him
+then may perhaps justify the opinion.</p>
+<p>The young Poodle was addicted to practical jokes&mdash;as
+usual, more amusing to the player than to the playee.&nbsp; One
+of his victims happened to be Beau Brummell, who, except when he
+bade &lsquo;George ring the bell,&rsquo; was as perfect a model
+of deportment as the great Mr. Turveydrop himself.&nbsp; His
+studied decorum possibly provoked the playfulness of the young
+puppy; and amongst other attempts to disturb the Beau&rsquo;s
+complacency, Master Byng ran a pin into the calf of that
+gentleman&rsquo;s leg, and then he ran away.&nbsp; A few days
+later Mr. Brummell, who had carefully dissembled his wrath,
+invited the unwary youth to breakfast, telling him that he was
+leaving town, and had a present which his young friend might
+have, if he chose to fetch it.&nbsp; The boy kept the
+appointment, and the Beau his promise.&nbsp; After an excellent
+breakfast, Brummell took a whip from his cupboard, and gave it to
+the Poodle in a way the young dog was not likely to forget.</p>
+<p>The happiest of my days then, and perhaps of my life, were
+spent at Mr. Ellice&rsquo;s Highland Lodge, at Glenquoich.&nbsp;
+For sport of all kinds it was and is difficult to surpass.&nbsp;
+The hills of the deer forest are amongst the highest in Scotland;
+the scenery of its lake and glens, especially the descent to Loch
+Hourne, is unequalled.&nbsp; Here were to be met many of the most
+notable men and women of the time.&nbsp; And as the house was
+twenty miles from the nearest post-town, and that in turn two
+days from London, visitors ceased to be strangers before they
+left.&nbsp; In the eighteen years during which this was my autumn
+home, I had the good fortune to meet numbers of distinguished
+people of whom I could now record nothing interesting but their
+names.&nbsp; Still, it is a privilege to have known such men as
+John Lawrence, Guizot, Thiers, Landseer, M&eacute;rim&eacute;e,
+Comte de Flahault, Doyle, Lords Elgin and Dalhousie, Duc de
+Broglie, P&eacute;lissier, Panizzi, Motley, Delane, Dufferin; and
+of gifted women, the three Sheridans, Lady Seymour&mdash;the
+Queen of Beauty, afterwards Duchess of Somerset&mdash;Mrs.
+Norton, and Lady Dufferin.&nbsp; Amongst those who have a
+retrospective interest were Mr. and Lady Blanche Balfour, parents
+of Mr. Arthur Balfour, who came there on their wedding tour in
+1843.&nbsp; Mr. Arthur Balfour&rsquo;s father was Mrs.
+Ellice&rsquo;s first cousin.</p>
+<p>It would be easy to lengthen the list; but I mention only
+those who repeated their visits, and who fill up my mental
+picture of the place and of the life.&nbsp; Some amongst them
+impressed me quite as much for their amiability&mdash;their
+loveableness, I may say&mdash;as for their renown; and regard for
+them increased with coming years.&nbsp; Panizzi was one of
+these.&nbsp; Dufferin, who was just my age, would have fascinated
+anyone with the singular courtesy of his manner.&nbsp; Dicky
+Doyle was necessarily a favourite with all who knew him.&nbsp; He
+was a frequent inmate of my house after I married, and was
+engaged to dine with me, alas! only eight days before he
+died.&nbsp; Motley was a singularly pleasant fellow.&nbsp; My
+friendship with him began over a volume of Sir W.
+Hamilton&rsquo;s Lectures.&nbsp; He asked what I was
+reading&mdash;I handed him the book.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; said he, &lsquo;there&rsquo;s no mental
+gymnastic like metaphysics.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Many a battle we afterwards had over them.&nbsp; When I was at
+Cannes in 1877 I got a message from him one day saying he was
+ill, and asking me to come and see him.&nbsp; He did not say how
+ill, so I put off going.&nbsp; Two days after I heard he was
+dead.</p>
+<p>M&eacute;rim&eacute;e&rsquo;s cynicism rather alarmed
+one.&nbsp; He was a capital caricaturist, though, to our
+astonishment, he assured us he had never drawn, or used a
+colour-box, till late in life.&nbsp; He had now learnt to use it,
+in a way that did not invariably give satisfaction.&nbsp;
+Landseer always struck me as sensitive and proud, a
+Diogenes-tempered individual who had been spoilt by the toadyism
+of great people.&nbsp; He was agreeable if made much of, or
+almost equally so if others were made little of.</p>
+<p>But of all those named, surely John Lawrence was the
+greatest.&nbsp; I wish I had read his life before it ended.&nbsp;
+Yet, without knowing anything more of him than that he was Chief
+Commissioner of the Punjab, which did not convey much to my
+understanding, one felt the greatness of the man beneath his calm
+simplicity.&nbsp; One day the party went out for a deer-drive; I
+was instructed to place Sir John in the pass below mine.&nbsp; To
+my disquietude he wore a black overcoat.&nbsp; I assured him that
+not a stag would come within a mile of us, unless he covered
+himself with a grey plaid, or hid behind a large rock there was,
+where I assured him he would see nothing.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Have the deer to pass me before they go on to
+you?&rsquo; he asked.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Certainly they have,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;I shall be
+up there above you.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well then,&rsquo; was his answer, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ll get
+behind the rock&mdash;it will be more snug out of the
+wind.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>One might as well have asked the deer not to see him, as try
+to persuade John Lawrence not to sacrifice himself for
+others.&nbsp; That he did so here was certain, for the deer came
+within fifty yards of him, but he never fired a shot.</p>
+<p>Another of the Indian viceroys was the innocent occasion of
+great discomfort to me, or rather his wife was.&nbsp; Lady Elgin
+had left behind her a valuable diamond necklace.&nbsp; I was
+going back to my private tutor at Ely a few days after, and the
+necklace was entrusted to me to deliver to its owner on my way
+through London.&nbsp; There was no railway then further north
+than Darlington, except that between Edinburgh and Glasgow.&nbsp;
+When I reached Edinburgh by coach from Inverness, my portmanteau
+was not to be found.&nbsp; The necklace was in a despatch-box in
+my portmanteau; and by an unlucky oversight, I had put my purse
+into my despatch-box.&nbsp; What was to be done?&nbsp; I was a
+lad of seventeen, in a town where I did not know a soul, with
+seven or eight shillings at most in my pocket.&nbsp; I had to
+break my journey and to stop where I was till I could get news of
+the necklace; this alone was clear to me, for the necklace was
+the one thing I cared for.</p>
+<p>At the coach office all the comfort I could get was that the
+lost luggage might have gone on to Glasgow; or, what was more
+probable, might have gone astray at Burntisland.&nbsp; It might
+not have been put on board, or it might not have been taken off
+the ferry-steamer.&nbsp; This could not be known for twenty-four
+hours, as there was no boat to or from Burntisland till the
+morrow.&nbsp; I decided to try Glasgow.&nbsp; A return
+third-class ticket left me without a copper.&nbsp; I went, found
+nothing, got back to Edinburgh at 10 <span
+class="GutSmall">P.M.</span>, ravenously hungry, dead tired, and
+so frightened about the necklace that food, bed, means of
+continuing my journey, were as mere death compared with
+irreparable dishonour.&nbsp; What would they all think of
+me?&nbsp; How could I prove that I had not stolen the
+diamonds?&nbsp; Would Lord Elgin accuse me?&nbsp; How could I
+have been such an idiot as to leave them in my portmanteau!&nbsp;
+Some rascal might break it open, and then, goodbye to my chance
+for ever!&nbsp; Chance? what chance was there of seeing that
+luggage again?&nbsp; There were so many
+&lsquo;mights.&rsquo;&nbsp; I couldn&rsquo;t even swear that I
+had seen it on the coach at Inverness.&nbsp; Oh dear! oh
+dear!&nbsp; What was to be done?&nbsp; I walked about the
+streets; I glanced woefully at door-steps, whereon to pass the
+night; I gazed piteously through the windows of a cheap
+cook&rsquo;s shop, where solid wedges of baked pudding, that
+would have stopped digestion for a month, were advertised for a
+penny a block.&nbsp; How rich should I have been if I had had a
+penny in my pocket!&nbsp; But I had to turn away in despair.</p>
+<p>At last the inspiration came.&nbsp; I remembered hearing Mr.
+Ellice say that he always put up at Douglas&rsquo; Hotel when he
+stayed in Edinburgh.&nbsp; I had very little hope of success, but
+I was too miserable to hesitate.&nbsp; It was very late, and
+everybody might be gone to bed.&nbsp; I rang the bell.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;I want to see the landlord.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Any name?&rsquo; the porter asked.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;No.&rsquo;&nbsp; The landlord came, fat, amiable
+looking.&nbsp; &lsquo;May I speak to you in private?&rsquo;&nbsp;
+He showed the way to an unoccupied room.&nbsp; &lsquo;I think you
+know Mr. Ellice?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Glenquoich, do you mean?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Oh, very well&mdash;he always stays here on his way
+through.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I am his step-son; I left Glenquoich yesterday.&nbsp; I
+have lost my luggage, and am left without any money.&nbsp; Will
+you lend me five pounds?&rsquo;&nbsp; I believe if I were in the
+same strait now, and entered any strange hotel in the United
+Kingdom at half-past ten at night, and asked the landlord to give
+me five pounds upon a similar security, he would laugh in my
+face, or perhaps give me in charge of a policeman.</p>
+<p>My host of Douglas&rsquo; did neither; but opened both his
+heart and his pocket-book, and with the greatest good humour
+handed me the requested sum.&nbsp; What good people there are in
+this world, which that crusty old Sir Peter Teazle calls &lsquo;a
+d&mdash;d wicked one.&rsquo;&nbsp; I poured out all my trouble to
+the generous man.&nbsp; He ordered me an excellent supper, and a
+very nice room.&nbsp; And on the following day, after taking a
+great deal of trouble, he recovered my lost luggage and the
+priceless treasure it contained.&nbsp; It was a proud and happy
+moment when I returned his loan, and convinced him, of what he
+did not seem to doubt, that I was positively not a swindler.</p>
+<p>But the roofless night and the empty belly, consequent on an
+empty pocket, was a lesson which I trust was not thrown away upon
+me.&nbsp; It did not occur to me to do so, but I certainly might
+have picked a pocket, if&mdash;well, if I had been brought up to
+it.&nbsp; Honesty, as I have often thought since, is dirt cheap
+if only one can afford it.</p>
+<p>Before departing from my beloved Glenquoich, I must pay a
+passing tribute to the remarkable qualities of Mrs. Edward Ellice
+and of her youngest sister Mrs. Robert Ellice, the mother of the
+present member for St. Andrews.&nbsp; It was, in a great measure,
+the bright intelligence, the rare tact, and social gifts of these
+two ladies that made this beautiful Highland resort so attractive
+to all comers.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> winter of 1854&ndash;55 I spent
+in Rome.&nbsp; Here I made the acquaintance of Leighton, then
+six-and-twenty.&nbsp; I saw a good deal of him, as I lived almost
+entirely amongst the artists, taking lessons myself in water
+colours of Leitch.&nbsp; Music also brought us into
+contact.&nbsp; He had a beautiful voice, and used to sing a good
+deal with Mrs. Sartoris&mdash;Adelaide Kemble&mdash;whom he
+greatly admired, and whose portrait is painted under a
+monk&rsquo;s cowl, in the Cimabue procession.</p>
+<p>Calling on him one morning, I found him on his knees buttering
+and rolling up this great picture, preparatory to sending it to
+the Academy.&nbsp; I made some remark about its unusual size,
+saying with a sceptical smile, &lsquo;It will take up a lot of
+room.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;If they ever hang it,&rsquo; he replied; &lsquo;but
+there&rsquo;s not much chance of that.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Seeing that his reputation was yet to win, it certainly seemed
+a bold venture to make so large a demand for space to begin
+with.&nbsp; He did not appear the least sanguine.&nbsp; But it
+was accepted; and Prince Albert bought it before the Exhibition
+opened.</p>
+<p>Gibson also I saw much of.&nbsp; He had executed a large
+alto-rilievo monument of my mother, which is now in my parish
+church, and the model of which is on the landing of one of the
+staircases of the National Gallery.&nbsp; His studio was always
+an interesting lounge, for he was ever ready to lecture upon
+antique marbles.&nbsp; To listen to him was like reading the
+&lsquo;Laocoon,&rsquo; which he evidently had at his
+fingers&rsquo; ends.&nbsp; My companion through the winter was
+Mr. Reginald Cholmondeley, a Cambridge ally, who was studying
+painting.&nbsp; He was the uncle of Miss Cholmondeley the
+well-known authoress, whose mother, by the way, was a first
+cousin of George Cayley&rsquo;s, and also a great friend of
+mine.</p>
+<p>On my return to England I took up my abode in Dean&rsquo;s
+Yard, and shared a house there with Mr. Cayley, the Yorkshire
+member, and his two sons, the eldest a barrister, and my friend
+George.&nbsp; Here for several years we had exceedingly pleasant
+gatherings of men more or less distinguished in literature and
+art.&nbsp; Tennyson was a frequent visitor&mdash;coming late,
+after dinner hours, to smoke his pipe.&nbsp; He varied a good
+deal, sometimes not saying a word, but quietly listening to our
+chatter.&nbsp; Thackeray also used to drop in occasionally.</p>
+<p>George Cayley and I, with the assistance of his father and
+others, had started a weekly paper called &lsquo;The
+Realm.&rsquo;&nbsp; It was professedly a currency paper, and also
+supported a fiscal policy advocated by Mr. Cayley and some of his
+parliamentary clique.&nbsp; Coming in one day, and finding us
+hard at work, Thackeray asked for information.&nbsp; We handed
+him a copy of the paper.&nbsp; &lsquo;Ah,&rsquo; he exclaimed,
+with mock solemnity, &lsquo;&ldquo;The Rellum,&rdquo; should be
+printed on vellum.&rsquo;&nbsp; He too, like Tennyson, was
+variable.&nbsp; But this depended on whom he found.&nbsp; In the
+presence of a stranger he was grave and silent.&nbsp; He would
+never venture on puerile jokes like this of his
+&lsquo;Rellum&rsquo;&mdash;a frequent playfulness, when at his
+ease, which contrasted so unexpectedly with his impenetrable
+exterior.&nbsp; He was either gauging the unknown person, or
+feeling that he was being gauged.&nbsp; Monckton Milnes was
+another.&nbsp; Seeing me correcting some proof sheets, he said,
+&lsquo;Let me give you a piece of advice, my young friend.&nbsp;
+Write as much as you please, but the less you print the
+better.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;For me, or for others?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;For both.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>George Cayley had a natural gift for, and had acquired
+considerable skill, in the embossing and working of silver
+ware.&nbsp; Millais so admired his art that he commissioned him
+to make a large tea-tray; Millais provided the silver.&nbsp;
+Round the border of the tray were beautifully modelled
+sea-shells, cray-fish, crabs, and fish of quaint forms, in high
+relief.&nbsp; Millais was so pleased with the work that he
+afterwards painted, and presented to Cayley, a fine portrait in
+his best style of Cayley&rsquo;s son, a boy of six or seven years
+old.</p>
+<p>Laurence Oliphant was one of George Cayley&rsquo;s
+friends.&nbsp; Attractive as he was in many ways, I had little
+sympathy with his religious opinions, nor did I comprehend
+Oliphant&rsquo;s exalted inspirations; I failed to see their
+practical bearing, and, at that time I am sorry to say, looked
+upon him as an amiable faddist.&nbsp; A special favourite with
+both of us was William Stirling of Keir.&nbsp; His great work on
+the Spanish painters, and his &lsquo;Cloister Life of Charles the
+Fifth,&rsquo; excited our unbounded admiration, while his
+<i>bonhomie</i> and radiant humour were a delight we were always
+eager to welcome.</p>
+<p>George Cayley and I now entered at Lincoln&rsquo;s Inn.&nbsp;
+At the end of three years he was duly called to the Bar.&nbsp; I
+was not; for alas, as usual, something &lsquo;turned up,&rsquo;
+which drew me in another direction.&nbsp; For a couple of years,
+however, I &lsquo;ate&rsquo; my terms&mdash;not unfrequently with
+William Harcourt, with whom Cayley had a Yorkshire intimacy even
+before our Cambridge days.</p>
+<p>Old Mr. Cayley, though not the least strait-laced, was a
+religious man.&nbsp; A Unitarian by birth and conviction, he
+began and ended the day with family prayers.&nbsp; On Sundays he
+would always read to us, or make us read to him, a sermon of
+Channing&rsquo;s, or of Theodore Parker&rsquo;s, or what we all
+liked better, one of Frederick Robertson&rsquo;s.&nbsp; He was
+essentially a good man.&nbsp; He had been in Parliament all his
+life, and was a broad-minded, tolerant, philosophical
+man-of-the-world.&nbsp; He had a keen sense of humour, and was
+rather sarcastical; but, for all that, he was sensitively
+earnest, and conscientious.&nbsp; I had the warmest affection and
+respect for him.&nbsp; Such a character exercised no small
+influence upon our conduct and our opinions, especially as his
+approval or disapproval of these visibly affected his own
+happiness.</p>
+<p>He was never easy unless he was actively engaged in some
+benevolent scheme, the promotion of some charity, or in what he
+considered his parliamentary duties, which he contrived to make
+very burdensome to his conscience.&nbsp; As his health was bad,
+these self-imposed obligations were all the more onerous; but he
+never spared himself, or his somewhat scanty means.&nbsp; Amongst
+other minor tasks, he used to teach at the Sunday-school of St.
+John&rsquo;s, Westminster; in this he persuaded me to join
+him.&nbsp; The only other volunteer, not a clergyman, was Page
+Wood&mdash;a great friend of Mr. Cayley&rsquo;s&mdash;afterwards
+Lord Chancellor Hatherley.&nbsp; In spite of Mr. Cayley&rsquo;s
+Unitarianism, like Frederick the Great, he was all for letting
+people &lsquo;go to Heaven in their own way,&rsquo; and was
+moreover quite ready to help them in their own way.&nbsp; So that
+he had no difficulty in hearing the boys repeat the day&rsquo;s
+collect, or the Creed, even if Athanasian, in accordance with the
+prescribed routine of the clerical teachers.</p>
+<p>This was right, at all events for him, if he thought it
+right.&nbsp; My spirit of nonconformity did not permit me to
+follow his example.&nbsp; Instead thereof, my teaching was purely
+secular.&nbsp; I used to take a volume of Mrs. Marcet&rsquo;s
+&lsquo;Conversations&rsquo; in my pocket; and with the aid of the
+diagrams, explain the application of the mechanical
+forces,&mdash;the inclined plane, the screw, the pulley, the
+wedge, and the lever.&nbsp; After two or three Sundays my class
+was largely increased, for the children keenly enjoyed their
+competitive examinations.&nbsp; I would also give them bits of
+poetry to get by heart for the following Sunday&mdash;lines from
+Gray&rsquo;s &lsquo;Elegy,&rsquo; from Wordsworth, from
+Pope&rsquo;s &lsquo;Essay on Man&rsquo;&mdash;such in short as
+had a moral rather than a religious tendency.</p>
+<p>After some weeks of this, the boys becoming clamorous in their
+zeal to correct one another, one of the curates left his class to
+hear what was going on in mine.&nbsp; We happened at the moment
+to be dealing with geography.&nbsp; The curate, evidently
+shocked, went away and brought another curate.&nbsp; Then the two
+together departed, and brought back the rector&mdash;Dr.
+Jennings, one of the Westminster Canons&mdash;a most kind and
+excellent man.&nbsp; I went on as if unconscious of the
+censorship, the boys exerting themselves all the more eagerly for
+the sake of the &lsquo;gallery.&rsquo;&nbsp; When the hour was
+up, Canon Jennings took me aside, and in the most polite manner
+thanked me for my &lsquo;valuable assistance,&rsquo; but did not
+think that the &lsquo;Essay on Man,&rsquo; or especially
+geography, was suited for the teaching in a Sunday-school.&nbsp;
+I told him I knew it was useless to contend with so high a
+canonical authority; personally I did not see the impiety of
+geography, but then, as he already knew, I was a confirmed
+latitudinarian.&nbsp; He clearly did not see the joke, but
+intimated that my services would henceforth be dispensed
+with.</p>
+<p>Of course I was wrong, though I did not know it then, for it
+must be borne in mind that there were no Board Schools in those
+days, and general education, amongst the poor, was deplorably
+deficient.&nbsp; At first, my idea was to give the children (they
+were all boys) a taste for the &lsquo;humanities,&rsquo; which
+might afterwards lead to their further pursuit.&nbsp; I assumed
+that on the Sunday they would be thinking of the baked meats
+awaiting them when church was over, or of their week-day tops and
+tipcats; but I was equally sure that a time would come when these
+would be forgotten, and the other things remembered.&nbsp; The
+success was greater from the beginning than could be looked for;
+and some years afterwards I had reason to hope that the forecast
+was not altogether too sanguine.</p>
+<p>While the Victoria Tower was being built, I stopped one day to
+watch the masons chiselling the blocks of stone.&nbsp; Presently
+one of them, in a flannel jacket and a paper cap, came and held
+out his hand to me.&nbsp; He was a handsome young fellow with a
+big black beard and moustache, both powdered with his
+chippings.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You don&rsquo;t remember me, sir, do you?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Did I ever see you before?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;My name is Richards; don&rsquo;t you remember,
+sir?&nbsp; I was one of the boys you used to teach at the
+Sunday-school.&nbsp; It gave me a turn for mechanics, which I
+followed up; and that&rsquo;s how I took to this trade.&nbsp;
+I&rsquo;m a master mason now, sir; and the whole of this lot is
+under me.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I wonder what you would have been,&rsquo; said I,
+&lsquo;if we&rsquo;d stuck to the collects?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t think I should have had a hand in this
+little job,&rsquo; he answered, looking up with pride at the
+mighty tower, as though he had a creative share in its
+construction.</p>
+<p>All this while I was working hard at my own education, and
+trying to make up for the years I had wasted (so I thought of
+them), by knocking about the world.&nbsp; I spent laborious days
+and nights in reading, dabbling in geology, chemistry,
+physiology, metaphysics, and what not.&nbsp; On the score of
+dogmatic religion I was as restless as ever.&nbsp; I had an
+insatiable thirst for knowledge; but was without guidance.&nbsp;
+I wanted to learn everything; and, not knowing in what direction
+to concentrate my efforts, learnt next to nothing.&nbsp; All
+knowledge seemed to me equally important, for all bore alike upon
+the great problems of belief and of existence.&nbsp; But what to
+pursue, what to relinquish, appeared to me an unanswerable
+riddle.&nbsp; Difficult as this puzzle was, I did not know then
+that a long life&rsquo;s experience would hardly make it
+simpler.&nbsp; The man who has to earn his bread must fain
+resolve to adapt his studies to that end.&nbsp; His choice not
+often rests with him.&nbsp; But the unfortunate being cursed in
+youth with the means of idleness, yet without genius, without
+talents even, is terribly handicapped and perplexed.</p>
+<p>And now, with life behind me, how should I advise another in
+such a plight?&nbsp; When a young lady, thus embarrassed, wrote
+to Carlyle for counsel, he sympathetically bade her &lsquo;put
+her drawers in order.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Here is the truth to be faced at the outset: &lsquo;Man has
+but the choice to go a little way in many paths, or a great way
+in only one.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Tis thus John Mill puts
+it.&nbsp; Which will he, which should he, choose?&nbsp; Both
+courses lead alike to incompleteness.&nbsp; The universal man is
+no specialist, and has to generalise without his details.&nbsp;
+The specialist sees only through his microscope, and knows about
+as much of cosmology as does his microbe.&nbsp; Goethe, the most
+comprehensive of Seers, must needs expose his incompleteness by
+futile attempts to disprove Newton&rsquo;s theory of
+colour.&nbsp; Newton must needs expose his, by a still more
+lamentable attempt to prove the Apocalypse as true as his own
+discovery of the laws of gravitation.&nbsp; All science nowadays
+is necessarily confined to experts.&nbsp; Without illustrating
+the fact by invidious hints, I invite anyone to consider the
+intellectual cost to the world which such limitation entails; nor
+is the loss merely negative; the specialist is unfortunately too
+often a bigot, when beyond his contracted sphere.</p>
+<p>This, you will say, is arguing in a circle.&nbsp; The
+universal must be given up for the detail, the detail for the
+universal; we leave off where we began.&nbsp; Yes, that is the
+dilemma.&nbsp; Still, the gain to science through a devotion of a
+whole life to a mere group of facts, in a single branch of a
+single science, may be an incalculable acquisition to human
+knowledge, to the intellectual capital of the race&mdash;a gain
+that sometimes far outweighs the loss.&nbsp; Even if we narrow
+the question to the destiny of the individual, the sacrifice of
+each one for the good of the whole is doubtless the highest aim
+the one can have.</p>
+<p>But this conclusion scarcely helps us; for remember, the
+option is not given to all.&nbsp; Genius, or talent, or special
+aptitude, is a necessary equipment for such an undertaking.&nbsp;
+Great discoverers must be great observers, dexterous
+manipulators, ingenious contrivers, and patient thinkers.</p>
+<p>The difficulty we started with was, what you and I, my friend,
+who perhaps have to row in the same boat, and perhaps &lsquo;with
+the same sculls,&rsquo; without any of these provisions, what we
+should do?&nbsp; What point of the compass should we steer
+for?&nbsp; &lsquo;Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy
+might.&rsquo;&nbsp; Truly there could be no better advice.&nbsp;
+But the &lsquo;finding&rsquo; is the puzzle; and like the search
+for truth it must, I fear, be left to each one&rsquo;s power to
+do it.&nbsp; And then&mdash;and then the countless thousands who
+have the leisure without the means&mdash;who have hands at least,
+and yet no work to put them to&mdash;what is to be done for
+these?&nbsp; Not in your time or mine, dear friend, will that
+question be answered.&nbsp; For this, I fear we must wait till by
+the &lsquo;universal law of adaptation&rsquo; we reach &lsquo;the
+ultimate development of the ideal man.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Colossal optimism,&rsquo; exclaims the critic.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> February, 1855, Roebuck moved
+for a select committee to inquire into the condition of the Army
+before Sebastopol.&nbsp; Lord John Russell, who was leader of the
+House, treated this as a vote of censure, and resigned.&nbsp;
+Lord Palmerston resisted Roebuck&rsquo;s motion, and generously
+defended the Government he was otherwise opposed to.&nbsp; But
+the motion was carried by a majority of 157, and Lord Aberdeen
+was turned out of office.&nbsp; The Queen sent for Lord Derby,
+but without Lord Palmerston he was unable to form a
+Ministry.&nbsp; Lord John was then appealed to, with like
+results; and the premiership was practically forced upon
+Palmerston, in spite of his unpopularity at Court.&nbsp; Mr.
+Horsman was made Chief Secretary for Ireland; and through Mr.
+Ellice I became his private secretary.</p>
+<p>Before I went to the Irish Office I was all but a stranger to
+my chief.&nbsp; I had met him occasionally in the tennis court;
+but the net was always between us.&nbsp; He was a man with a
+great deal of manner, but with very little of what the French
+call &lsquo;conviction.&rsquo;&nbsp; Nothing keeps people at a
+distance more effectually than simulated sincerity; Horsman was a
+master of the art.&nbsp; I was profoundly ignorant of my
+duties.&nbsp; But though this was a great inconvenience to me at
+first, it led to a friendship which I greatly prized until its
+tragic end.&nbsp; For all information as to the writers of
+letters, as to Irish Members who applied for places for
+themselves, or for others, I had to consult the principal
+clerk.&nbsp; He was himself an Irishman of great ability; and
+though young, was either personally or officially acquainted, so
+it seemed to me, with every Irishman in the House of Commons, or
+out of it.&nbsp; His name is too well known&mdash;it was Thomas
+Bourke, afterwards Under Secretary, and one of the victims of the
+Fenian assassins in the Ph&oelig;nix Park.&nbsp; His patience and
+amiability were boundless; and under his guidance I soon learnt
+the tricks of my trade.</p>
+<p>During the session we remained in London; and for some time it
+was of great interest to listen to the debates.&nbsp; When Irish
+business was before the House, I had often to be in attendance on
+my chief in the reporters&rsquo; gallery.&nbsp; Sometimes I had
+to wait there for an hour or two before our questions came on,
+and thus had many opportunities of hearing Bright, Gladstone,
+Disraeli, and all the leading speakers.&nbsp; After a time the
+pleasure, when compulsory, began to pall; and I used to wonder
+what on earth could induce the ruck to waste their time in
+following, sheeplike, their bell-wethers, or waste their money in
+paying for that honour.&nbsp; When Parliament was up we moved to
+Dublin.&nbsp; I lived with Horsman in the Chief Secretary&rsquo;s
+lodge.&nbsp; And as I had often stayed at Castle Howard before
+Lord Carlisle became Viceroy, between the two lodges I saw a
+great deal of pleasant society.</p>
+<p>Amongst those who came to stay with Horsman was Sidney
+Herbert, then Colonial Secretary, a man of singular nobility of
+nature.&nbsp; Another celebrity for the day, but of a very
+different character, was Lord Cardigan.&nbsp; He had just
+returned from the Crimea, and was now in command of the forces in
+Ireland.&nbsp; This was about six months after the Balaklava
+charge.&nbsp; Horsman asked him one evening to give a description
+of it, with a plan of the battle.&nbsp; His Lordship did so; no
+words could be more suited to the deed.&nbsp; If this was
+&lsquo;pell-mell, havock, and confusion,&rsquo; the account of it
+was proportionately confounded.&nbsp; The noble leader scrawled
+and inked and blotted all the phases of the battle upon the same
+scrap of paper, till the batteries were at the starting-point of
+the charge, the Light Brigade on the far side of the guns, and
+all the points of the compass, attack and defence, had changed
+their original places; in fact, the gallant Earl brandished his
+pen as valiantly as he had his sword.&nbsp; When quite
+bewildered, like everybody else, I ventured mildly to ask,
+&lsquo;But where were you, Lord Cardigan, and where were our men
+when it came to this?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Where?&nbsp; Where?&nbsp; God bless my soul!&nbsp; How
+should I know where anybody was?&rsquo;&nbsp; And this, no doubt,
+described the situation to a nicety.</p>
+<p>My office was in the Castle, and the next room to mine was
+that of the Solicitor-General Keogh, afterwards Judge.&nbsp; We
+became the greatest of friends.&nbsp; It was one of
+Horsman&rsquo;s peculiarities to do business circuitously.&nbsp;
+He was fond of mysteries and of secrets, secrets that were to be
+kept from everyone, but which were generally known to the office
+messengers.&nbsp; When Keogh and I met in the morning he would
+say, with admirable imitation of Horsman&rsquo;s manner,
+&lsquo;Well, it is all settled; the Viceroy has considered the
+question, and has decided to act upon my advice.&nbsp; Mind you
+don&rsquo;t tell anyone&mdash;it is a profound secret,&rsquo;
+then, lowering his voice and looking round the room, &lsquo;His
+Excellency has consented to score at the next cricket match
+between the garrison and the Civil Service.&rsquo;&nbsp; If it
+were a constabulary appointment, or even a village post-office,
+the Attorney or the Solicitor-General would be strictly enjoined
+not to inform me, and I received similar injunctions respecting
+them.&nbsp; In spite of his apparent attention to details, Mr.
+Horsman hunted three days a week, and stated in the House of
+Commons that the office of Chief Secretary was a farce, meaning
+when excluded from the Cabinet.&nbsp; All I know is, that his
+private secretary was constantly at work an hour before breakfast
+by candle-light, and never got a single day&rsquo;s holiday
+throughout the winter.</p>
+<p>Horsman had hired a shooting&mdash;Balnaboth in Scotland;
+here, too, I had to attend upon him in the autumn, mainly for the
+purpose of copying voluminous private correspondence about a
+sugar estate he owned at Singapore, then producing a large
+income, but the subsequent failure of which was his ruin.&nbsp;
+One year Sir Alexander Cockburn, the Lord Chief Justice, came to
+stay with him; and excellent company he was.&nbsp; Horsman had
+sometimes rather an affected way of talking; and referring to
+some piece of political news, asked Cockburn whether he had seen
+it in the &lsquo;Courier.&rsquo;&nbsp; This he pronounced with an
+accent on the last syllable, like the French
+&lsquo;Courrier.&rsquo;&nbsp; Cockburn, with a slight twinkle in
+his eye, answered in his quiet way, &lsquo;No, I didn&rsquo;t see
+it in the &ldquo;Courrier,&rdquo; perhaps it is in the
+&ldquo;Morning Post,&rdquo;&rsquo; also giving the French
+pronunciation to the latter word.</p>
+<p>Sir Alexander told us an amusing story about Disraeli.&nbsp;
+He and Bernal Osborne were talking together about Mrs. Disraeli,
+when presently Osborne, with characteristic effrontery,
+exclaimed: &lsquo;My dear Dizzy, how could you marry such a
+woman?&rsquo;&nbsp; The answer was; &lsquo;My dear Bernal, you
+never knew what gratitude was, or you would not ask the
+question.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The answer was a gracious one, and doubtless sincere.&nbsp;
+But, despite his cynicism, no one could be more courteous or say
+prettier things than Disraeli.&nbsp; Here is a little story that
+was told me at the time by my sister-in-law, who was a woman of
+the bedchamber, and was present on the occasion.&nbsp; When her
+Majesty Queen Alexandra was suffering from an accident to her
+knee, and had to use crutches, Disraeli said to her: &lsquo;I
+have heard of a devil on two sticks, but never before knew an
+angel to use them.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Keogh, Bourke, and I, made several pleasant little excursions
+to such places as Bray, the Seven Churches, Powerscourt, &amp;c.,
+and, with a chosen car-driver, the wit and fun of the three
+clever Irishmen was no small treat.&nbsp; The last time I saw
+either of my two friends was at a dinner-party which Bourke gave
+at the &lsquo;Windham.&rsquo;&nbsp; We were only four, to make up
+a whist party; the fourth was Fred Clay, the composer.&nbsp; It
+is sad to reflect that two of the lot came to violent
+ends&mdash;Keogh, the cheeriest of men in society, by his own
+hands.&nbsp; Bourke I had often spoken to of the danger he ran in
+crossing the Ph&oelig;nix Park nightly on his way home, on foot
+and unarmed.&nbsp; He laughed at me, and rather
+indignantly&mdash;for he was a very vain man, though one of the
+most good-natured fellows in the world.&nbsp; In the first place,
+he prided himself on his physique&mdash;he was a tall,
+well-built, handsome man, and a good boxer and fencer to
+boot.&nbsp; In the next place, he prided himself above all things
+on being a thorough-bred Irishman, with a sneaking sympathy with
+even Fenian grievances.&nbsp; &lsquo;They all know
+<i>me</i>,&rsquo; he would say.&nbsp; &lsquo;The rascals know
+I&rsquo;m the best friend they have.&nbsp; I&rsquo;m the last man
+in the world they&rsquo;d harm, for political reasons.&nbsp;
+Anyway, I can take care of myself.&rsquo;&nbsp; And so it was he
+fell.</p>
+<p>The end of Horsman&rsquo;s secretaryship is soon told.&nbsp; A
+bishopric became vacant, and almost as much intrigue was set
+agoing as we read of in the wonderful story of
+&lsquo;L&rsquo;Anneau d&rsquo;Am&eacute;thyste.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+Horsman, at all times a profuse letter-writer, wrote folios to
+Lord Palmerston on the subject, each letter more exuberant, more
+urgent than the last.&nbsp; But no answer came.&nbsp; Finally,
+the whole Irish vote, according to the Chief Secretary, being at
+stake&mdash;not to mention the far more important matter of
+personal and official dignity&mdash;Horsman flew off to London,
+boiling over with impatience and indignation.&nbsp; He rushed to
+10 Downing Street.&nbsp; His Lordship was at the Foreign office,
+but was expected every minute; would Mr. Horsman wait?&nbsp; Mr.
+Horsman was shown into his Lordship&rsquo;s room.&nbsp; Piles of
+letters, opened and unopened, were lying upon the table.&nbsp;
+The Chief Secretary recognised his own signatures on the
+envelopes of a large bundle, all amongst the
+&lsquo;un&rsquo;s.&rsquo;&nbsp; The Premier came in, an
+explanation <i>extr&ecirc;mement vive</i> followed; on his return
+to Dublin Mr. Horsman resigned his post, and from that moment
+became one of Lord Palmerston&rsquo;s bitterest opponents.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XL</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> lectures at the Royal
+Institution were of some help to me.&nbsp; I attended courses by
+Owen, Tyndall, Huxley, and Bain.&nbsp; Of these, Huxley was
+<i>facile princeps</i>, though both Owen and Tyndall were second
+to no other.&nbsp; Bain was disappointing.&nbsp; I was a careful
+student of his books, and always admired the logical lucidity of
+his writing.&nbsp; But to the mixed audience he had to lecture
+to&mdash;fashionable young ladies in their teens, and drowsy
+matrons in charge of them, he discreetly kept clear of
+transcendentals.&nbsp; In illustration perhaps of some theory of
+the relation of the senses to the intellect, he would tell an
+amusing anecdote of a dog that had had an injured leg dressed at
+a certain house, after which the recovered dog brought a canine
+friend to the same house to have his leg&mdash;or
+tail&mdash;repaired.&nbsp; Out would come all the tablets and
+pretty pencil cases, and every young lady would be busy for the
+rest of the lecture in recording the marvellous history.&nbsp; If
+the dog&rsquo;s name had been &lsquo;Spot&rsquo; or
+&lsquo;Bob,&rsquo; the important psychological fact would have
+been faithfully registered.&nbsp; As to the theme of the
+discourse, that had nothing to do with&mdash;millinery.&nbsp; And
+Mr. Bain doubtless did not overlook the fact.</p>
+<p>Owen was an accomplished lecturer; but one&rsquo;s attention
+to him depended on two things&mdash;a primary interest in the
+subject, and some elementary acquaintance with it.&nbsp; If, for
+example, his subject were the comparative anatomy of the cycloid
+and ganoid fishes, the difference in their scales was scarcely of
+vital importance to one&rsquo;s general culture.&nbsp; But if he
+were lecturing on fish, he would stick to fish; it would be
+essentially a <i>jour maigre</i>.</p>
+<p>With Huxley, the suggestion was worth more than the thing
+said.&nbsp; One thought of it afterwards, and wondered whether
+his words implied all they seemed to imply.&nbsp; One knew that
+the scientist was also a philosopher; and one longed to get at
+him, at the man himself, and listen to the lessons which his work
+had taught him.&nbsp; At one of these lectures I had the honour
+of being introduced to him by a great friend of mine, John
+Marshall, then President of the College of Surgeons.&nbsp; In
+later years I used to meet him constantly at the
+Athen&aelig;um.</p>
+<p>Looking back to the days of one&rsquo;s plasticity, two men
+are pre-eminent among my Dii Majores.&nbsp; To John Stuart Mill
+and to Thomas Huxley I owe more, educationally, than to any other
+teachers.&nbsp; Mill&rsquo;s logic was simply a revelation to
+me.&nbsp; For what Kant calls &lsquo;discipline,&rsquo; I still
+know no book, unless it be the &lsquo;Critique&rsquo; itself,
+equal to it.&nbsp; But perhaps it is the men themselves, their
+earnestness, their splendid courage, their noble simplicity, that
+most inspired one with reverence.&nbsp; It was Huxley&rsquo;s aim
+to enlighten the many, and he enlightened them.&nbsp; It was
+Mill&rsquo;s lot to help thinkers, and he helped them.&nbsp;
+<i>Sapere aude</i> was the motto of both.&nbsp; How few there are
+who dare to adopt it!&nbsp; To love truth is valiantly professed
+by all; but to pursue it at all costs, to &lsquo;dare to be
+wise&rsquo; needs daring of the highest order.</p>
+<p>Mill had the enormous advantage, to start with, of an
+education unbiassed by any theological creed; and he brought
+exceptional powers of abstract reasoning to bear upon matters of
+permanent and supreme importance to all men.&nbsp; Yet, in spite
+of his ruthless impartiality, I should not hesitate to call him a
+religious man.&nbsp; This very tendency which no imaginative
+mind, no man or woman with any strain of poetical feeling, can be
+without, invests Mill&rsquo;s character with a clash of humanity
+which entitles him to a place in our affections.&nbsp; It is in
+this respect that he so widely differs from Mr. Herbert
+Spencer.&nbsp; Courageous Mr. Spencer was, but his courage seems
+to have been due almost as much to absence of sympathy or kinship
+with his fellow-creatures, and to his contempt of their opinions,
+as from his dispassionate love of truth, or his sometimes
+passionate defence of his own tenets.</p>
+<p>My friend Napier told me an amusing little story about John
+Mill when he was in the East India Company&rsquo;s
+administration.&nbsp; Mr. Macvey Napier, my friend&rsquo;s elder
+brother, was the senior clerk.&nbsp; On John Mill&rsquo;s
+retirement, his co-officials subscribed to present him with a
+silver standish.&nbsp; Such was the general sense of Mill&rsquo;s
+modest estimate of his own deserts, and of his aversion to all
+acknowledgment of them, that Mr. Napier, though it fell to his
+lot, begged others to join in the ceremony of presentation.&nbsp;
+All declined; the inkstand was left upon Mill&rsquo;s table when
+he himself was out of the room.</p>
+<p>Years after the time of which I am writing, when Mill stood
+for Westminster, I had the good fortune to be on the platform at
+St. James&rsquo;s Hall, next but one to him, when he made his
+first speech to the electors.&nbsp; He was completely unknown to
+the public, and, though I worshipped the man, I had never seen
+him, nor had an idea what he looked like.&nbsp; To satisfy my
+curiosity I tried to get a portrait of him at the photographic
+shop in Regent Street.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I want a photograph of Mr. Mill.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Mill?&nbsp; Mill?&rsquo; repeated the shopman,
+&lsquo;Oh yes, sir, I know&mdash;a great sporting gent,&rsquo;
+and he produced the portrait of a sportsman in top boots and a
+hunting cap.</p>
+<p>Very different from this was the figure I then saw.&nbsp; The
+hall and the platform were crowded.&nbsp; Where was the principal
+personage?&nbsp; Presently, quite alone, up the side steps, and
+unobserved, came a thin but tallish man in black, with a tail
+coat, and, almost unrecognised, took the vacant front seat.&nbsp;
+He might have been, so far as dress went, a clerk in a
+counting-house, or an undertaker.&nbsp; But the face was no
+ordinary one.&nbsp; The wide brow, the sharp nose of the Burke
+type, the compressed lips and strong chin, were suggestive of
+intellect and of suppressed emotion.&nbsp; There was no applause,
+for nothing was known to the crowd, even of his opinions, beyond
+the fact that he was the Liberal candidate for Westminster.&nbsp;
+He spoke with perfect ease to himself, never faltering for the
+right word, which seemed to be always at his command.&nbsp; If
+interrupted by questions, as he constantly was, his answers could
+not have been amended had he written them.&nbsp; His voice was
+not strong, and there were frequent calls from the far end to
+&lsquo;speak up, speak up; we can&rsquo;t hear you.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+He did not raise his pitch a note.&nbsp; They might as well have
+tried to bully an automaton.&nbsp; He was doing his best, and he
+could do no more.&nbsp; Then, when, instead of the usual
+adulations, instead of declamatory appeals to the passions of a
+large and a mixed assembly, he gave them to understand, in very
+plain language, that even socialists are not
+infallible,&mdash;that extreme and violent opinions, begotten of
+ignorance, do not constitute the highest political wisdom; then
+there were murmurs of dissent and disapproval.&nbsp; But if the
+ignorant and the violent could have stoned him, his calm manner
+would still have said, &lsquo;Strike, but hear me.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Mr. Robert Grosvenor&mdash;the present Lord Ebury&mdash;then
+the other Liberal member for Westminster, wrote to ask me to take
+the chair at Mill&rsquo;s first introduction to the Pimlico
+electors.&nbsp; Such, however, was my admiration of Mill, I did
+not feel sure that I might not say too much in his favour; and
+mindful of the standish incident, I knew, that if I did so, it
+would embarrass and annoy him.</p>
+<p>Under these circumstances I declined the honour.</p>
+<p>When Owen was delivering a course of lectures at Norwich, my
+brother invited him to Holkham.&nbsp; I was there, and we took
+several long walks together.&nbsp; Nothing seemed to escape his
+observation.&nbsp; My brother had just completed the recovery of
+many hundred acres of tidal marsh by embankments.&nbsp; Owen, who
+was greatly interested, explained what would be the effect upon
+the sandiest portion of this, in years to come; what the chemical
+action of the rain would be, how the sand would eventually become
+soil, how vegetation would cover it, and how manure render it
+cultivable.&nbsp; The splendid crops now grown there bear
+testimony to his foresight.&nbsp; He had always something
+instructive to impart, stopping to contemplate trifles which only
+a Zadig would have noticed.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I observe,&rsquo; said he one day, &lsquo;that your
+prevailing wind here is north-west.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;How do you know?&rsquo; I asked.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Look at the roots of all these trees; the large roots
+are invariably on the north-west side.&nbsp; This means that the
+strain comes on this side.&nbsp; The roots which have to bear it
+loosen the soil, and the loosened soil favours the extension and
+the growth of the roots.&nbsp; Nature is beautifully
+scientific.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Some years after this, I published a book called &lsquo;Creeds
+of the Day.&rsquo;&nbsp; My purpose was to show, in a popular
+form, the bearings of science and speculative thought upon the
+religious creeds of the time.&nbsp; I sent Owen a copy of the
+work.&nbsp; He wrote me one of the most interesting letters I
+ever received.&nbsp; He had bought the book, and had read
+it.&nbsp; But the important content of the letter was the
+confession of his own faith.&nbsp; I have purposely excluded all
+correspondence from these Memoirs, but had it not been that a
+forgotten collector of autographs had captured it, I should have
+been tempted to make an exception in its favour.&nbsp; The tone
+was agnostic; but timidly agnostic.&nbsp; He had never freed
+himself from the shackles of early prepossessions.&nbsp; He had
+not the necessary daring to clear up his doubts.&nbsp; Sometimes
+I fancy that it was this difference in the two men that lay at
+the bottom of the unfortunate antagonism between Owen and
+Huxley.&nbsp; There is in Owen&rsquo;s writing, where he is not
+purely scientific, a touch of the apologist.&nbsp; He cannot
+quite make up his mind to follow evolution to its logical
+conclusions.&nbsp; Where he is forced to do so, it is to him like
+signing the death warrant of his dearest friend.&nbsp; It must
+not be forgotten that Owen was born more than twenty years before
+Huxley; and great as was the offence of free-thinking in
+Huxley&rsquo;s youth, it was nothing short of anathema in
+Owen&rsquo;s.&nbsp; When I met him at Holkham, the &lsquo;Origin
+of Species&rsquo; had not been published; and Napier and I did
+all we could to get Owen to express some opinion on
+Lamarck&rsquo;s theory, for he and I used to talk confidentially
+on this fearful heresy even then.&nbsp; But Owen was ever on his
+guard.&nbsp; He evaded our questions and changed the subject.</p>
+<p>Whenever I pass near the South Kensington Museum I step aside
+to look at the noble statues of the two illustrious men.&nbsp; A
+mere glance at them, and we appreciate at once their respective
+characters.&nbsp; In the one we see passive wisdom, in the other
+militant force.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Before</span> I went to America, I made
+the acquaintance of Dr. George Bird; he continued to be one of my
+most intimate friends till his death, fifty years
+afterwards.&nbsp; When I first knew him, Bird was the medical
+adviser and friend of Leigh Hunt, whose family I used often to
+meet at his house.&nbsp; He had been dependent entirely upon his
+own exertions; had married young; and had had a pretty hard fight
+at starting to provide for his children and for himself.&nbsp;
+His energy, his abilities, his exceeding amiability, and
+remarkable social qualities, gradually procured him a large
+practice and hosts of devoted friends.&nbsp; He began looking for
+the season for sprats&mdash;the cheapest of fish&mdash;to come
+in; by middle life he was habitually and sumptuously entertaining
+the celebrities of art and literature.&nbsp; With his
+accomplished sister, Miss Alice Bird, to keep house for him,
+there were no pleasanter dinner parties or receptions in
+London.&nbsp; His <i>client&egrave;le</i> was mainly amongst the
+artistic world.&nbsp; He was a great friend of Miss Ellen
+Terry&rsquo;s, Mr. Marcus Stone and his sisters were frequenters
+of his house, so were Mr. Swinburne, Mr. Woolner the
+sculptor&mdash;of whom I was not particularly fond&mdash;Horace
+Wigan the actor, and his father, the Burtons, who were much
+attached to him&mdash;Burton dedicated one volume of his
+&lsquo;Arabian Nights&rsquo; to him&mdash;Sir William Crookes,
+Mr. Justin Macarthy and his talented son, and many others.</p>
+<p>The good doctor was a Radical and Home Ruler, and attended
+professionally the members of one or two labouring men&rsquo;s
+clubs for fees which, as far as I could learn, were rigorously
+nominal.&nbsp; His great delight was to get an order for the
+House of Commons, especially on nights when Mr. Gladstone spoke;
+and, being to the last day of his life as simple-minded as a
+child, had a profound belief in the statemanship and integrity of
+that renowned orator.</p>
+<p>As far as personality goes, the Burtons were, perhaps, the
+most notable of the above-named.&nbsp; There was a mystery about
+Burton which was in itself a fascination.&nbsp; No one knew what
+he had done; or consequently what he might not do.&nbsp; He never
+boasted, never hinted that he had done, or could do, anything
+different from other men; and, in spite of the mystery, one felt
+that he was transparently honest and sincere.&nbsp; He was always
+the same, always true to himself; but then, that
+&lsquo;self&rsquo; was a something <i>per se</i>, which could not
+be categorically classed&mdash;precedent for guidance was
+lacking.&nbsp; There is little doubt Burton had gipsy blood in
+his veins; there was something Oriental in his temperament, and
+even in his skin.</p>
+<p>One summer&rsquo;s day I found him reading the paper in the
+Athen&aelig;um.&nbsp; He was dressed in a complete suit of
+white&mdash;white trousers, a white linen coat, and a very shabby
+old white hat.&nbsp; People would have stared at him
+anywhere.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Hullo, Burton!&rsquo; I exclaimed, touching his linen
+coat, &lsquo;Do you find it so
+hot&mdash;<i>d&eacute;j&agrave;</i>?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Said he: &lsquo;I don&rsquo;t want to be mistaken for other
+people.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;There&rsquo;s not much fear of that, even without your
+clothes,&rsquo; I replied.</p>
+<p>Such an impromptu answer as his would, from any other, have
+implied vanity.&nbsp; Yet no man could have been less vain, or
+more free from affectation.&nbsp; It probably concealed regret at
+finding himself conspicuous.</p>
+<p>After dinner at the Birds&rsquo; one evening we fell to
+talking of garrotters.&nbsp; About this time the police reports
+were full of cases of garrotting.&nbsp; The victim was seized
+from behind, one man gagged or burked him, while another picked
+his pocket.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;What should you do, Burton?&rsquo; the Doctor asked,
+&lsquo;if they tried to garrotte you?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I&rsquo;m quite ready for &rsquo;em,&rsquo; was the
+answer; and turning up his sleeve he partially pulled out a
+dagger, and shoved it back again.</p>
+<p>We tried to make him tell us what became of the Arab boy who
+accompanied him to Mecca, and whose suspicions threatened
+Burton&rsquo;s betrayal, and, of consequence, his life.&nbsp; I
+don&rsquo;t think anyone was present except us two, both of whom
+he well knew to be quite shock-proof, but he held his tongue.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You would have been perfectly justified in saving your
+own life at any cost.&nbsp; You would hardly have broken the
+sixth commandment by doing so in this case,&rsquo; I
+suggested.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;No,&rsquo; said he gravely, &lsquo;and as I had broken
+all the ten before, it wouldn&rsquo;t have so much
+mattered.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The Doctor roared.&nbsp; It should, however, be stated that
+Burton took no less delight in his host&rsquo;s boyish
+simplicity, than the other in what he deemed his guest&rsquo;s
+superb candour.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Come, tell us,&rsquo; said Bird, &lsquo;how many men
+have you killed?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;How many have you, Doctor?&rsquo; was the answer.</p>
+<p>Richard Burton was probably the most extraordinary linguist of
+his day.&nbsp; Lady Burton mentions, I think, in his Life, the
+number of languages and dialects her husband knew.&nbsp; That
+Mahometans should seek instruction from him in the Koran, speaks
+of itself for his astonishing mastery of the greatest linguistic
+difficulties.&nbsp; With Indian languages and their variations,
+he was as completely at home as Miss Youghal&rsquo;s Sais; and,
+one may suppose, could have played the <i>r&ocirc;le</i> of a
+fakir as perfectly as he did that of a Mecca pilgrim.&nbsp; I
+asked him what his method was in learning a fresh language.&nbsp;
+He said he wrote down as many new words as he could learn and
+remember each day; and learnt the construction of the language
+colloquially, before he looked at a grammar.</p>
+<p>Lady Burton was hardly less abnormal in her way than Sir
+Richard.&nbsp; She had shared his wanderings, and was intimate,
+as no one else was, with the eccentricities of his thoughts and
+deeds.&nbsp; Whatever these might happen to be, she worshipped
+her husband notwithstanding.&nbsp; For her he was the standard of
+excellence; all other men were departures from it.&nbsp; And the
+singularity is, her religious faith was never for an instant
+shaken&mdash;she remained as strict a Roman Catholic as when he
+married her from a convent.&nbsp; Her enthusiasm and
+cosmopolitanism, her <i>na&iuml;vet&eacute;</i> and the sweetness
+of her disposition made her the best of company.&nbsp; She had
+lived so much the life of a Bedouin, that her dress and her
+habits had an Eastern glow.&nbsp; When staying with the Birds,
+she was attended by an Arab girl, one of whose duties it was to
+prepare her mistress&rsquo; chibouk, which was regularly brought
+in with the coffee.&nbsp; On one occasion, when several other
+ladies were dining there, some of them yielded to Lady
+Burton&rsquo;s persuasion to satisfy their curiosity.&nbsp; The
+Arab girl soon provided the means; and it was not long before
+there were four or five faces as white as Mrs. Alfred
+Wigan&rsquo;s, under similar circumstances, in the
+&lsquo;Nabob.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Alfred Wigan&rsquo;s father was an unforgettable man.&nbsp; To
+describe him in a word, he was Falstag <i>redivivus</i>.&nbsp; In
+bulk and stature, in age, in wit and humour, and morality, he was
+Falstaff.&nbsp; He knew it and gloried in it.&nbsp; He would
+complain with zest of &lsquo;larding the lean earth&rsquo; as he
+walked along.&nbsp; He was as partial to whisky as his prototype
+to sack.&nbsp; He would exhaust a Johnsonian vocabulary in
+describing his ailments; and would appeal pathetically to Miss
+Bird, as though at his last gasp, for &lsquo;just a
+tea-spoonful&rsquo; of the grateful stimulant.&nbsp; She served
+him with a liberal hand, till he cried &lsquo;Stop!&rsquo;&nbsp;
+But if she then stayed, he would softly insinuate &lsquo;I
+didn&rsquo;t mean it, my dear.&rsquo;&nbsp; Yet he was no
+Costigan.&nbsp; His brain was stronger than casks of
+whisky.&nbsp; And his powers of digestion were in keeping.&nbsp;
+Indeed, to borrow the well-known words applied to a great man
+whom we all love, &lsquo;He tore his dinner like a famished wolf,
+with the veins swelling in his forehead, and the perspiration
+running down his cheeks.&rsquo;&nbsp; The trend of his thoughts,
+though he was eminently a man of intellect, followed the dictates
+of his senses.&nbsp; Walk with him in the fields and, from the
+full stores of a prodigious memory, he would pour forth pages of
+the choicest poetry.&nbsp; But if you paused to watch the lambs
+play, or disturbed a young calf in your path, he would almost
+involuntarily exclaim: &lsquo;How deliciously you smell of mint,
+my pet!&rsquo; or &lsquo;Bless your innocent face!&nbsp; What
+sweetbreads you will provide!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>James Wigan had kept a school once.&nbsp; The late Serjeant
+Ballantine, who was one of his pupils, mentions him in his
+autobiography.&nbsp; He was a good scholar, and when I first knew
+him, used to teach elocution.&nbsp; Many actors went to him, and
+not a few members of both Houses of Parliament.&nbsp; He could
+recite nearly the whole of several of Shakespeare&rsquo;s plays;
+and, with a dramatic art I have never known equalled by any
+public reader.</p>
+<p>His later years were passed at Sevenoaks, where he kept an
+establishment for imbeciles, or weak-minded youths.&nbsp; I often
+stayed with him (not as a patient), and a very comfortable and
+pretty place it was.&nbsp; Now and then he would call on me in
+London; and, with a face full of theatrical woe, tell me, with
+elaborate circumlocution, how the Earl of This, or the Marquis of
+That, had implored him to take charge of young Lord So-and-So,
+his son; who, as all the world knew, had&mdash;well, had
+&lsquo;no guts in his brains.&rsquo;&nbsp; Was there ever such a
+chance?&nbsp; Just consider what it must lead to!&nbsp; Everybody
+knew&mdash;no, nobody knew&mdash;the enormous number of idiots
+there were in noble families.&nbsp; And, such a case as that of
+young Lord Dash&mdash;though of course his residence at Sevenoaks
+would be a profound secret, would be patent to the whole peerage;
+and, my dear sir, a fortune to your humble servant, if&mdash;ah!
+if he could only secure it!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But I thought you said you had been implored to take
+him?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I did say so.&nbsp; I repeat it.&nbsp; His
+Lordship&rsquo;s father came to me with tears in his eyes.&nbsp;
+&ldquo;My dear Wigan,&rdquo; were that nobleman&rsquo;s words,
+&ldquo;do me this one favour and trust me, you will never regret
+it!&rdquo;&nbsp; But&mdash;&rsquo; he paused to remove the
+dramatic tear, &lsquo;but, I hardly dare go on.&nbsp;
+Yes&mdash;yes, I know your kindness&rsquo; (seizing my hand)
+&lsquo;I know how ready you are to help me&rsquo;&mdash;(I
+hadn&rsquo;t said a word)&mdash;&lsquo;but&mdash;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;How much is it this time? and what is it
+for?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;For?&nbsp; I have told you what it is for.&nbsp; The
+merest trifle will suffice.&nbsp; I have the room&mdash;a
+beautiful room, the best aspect in the house.&nbsp; It is now
+occupied by young Rumagee Bumagee the great Bombay
+millionaire&rsquo;s son.&nbsp; Of course he can be moved.&nbsp;
+But a bed&mdash;there positively is not a spare bed in the
+house.&nbsp; This is all I want&mdash;a bed, and perhaps a
+tuppenny ha&rsquo;penny strip of carpet, a couple of chairs,
+a&mdash;let me see; if you give me a slip of paper I can make out
+in a minute what it will come to.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Never mind that.&nbsp; Will a ten-pound note serve your
+purposes?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Dear boy!&nbsp; Dear boy!&nbsp; But on one condition,
+on one condition only, can I accept it&mdash;this is a loan, a
+loan mind! and not a gift.&nbsp; No, no&mdash;it is useless to
+protest; my pride, my sense of honour, forbids my acceptance upon
+any other terms.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>A day or two afterwards I would learn from George Bird that he
+and Miss Alice had accepted an invitation to meet me at
+Sevenoaks.&nbsp; Mr. Donovan, the famous phrenologist, was to be
+of the party; the Rector of Sevenoaks, and one or two local
+magnates, had also been invited to dine.&nbsp; We Londoners were
+to occupy the spare rooms, for this was in the coaching days.</p>
+<p>We all knew what we had to expect&mdash;a most enjoyable
+banquet of conviviality.&nbsp; Young Mrs. Wigan, his second wife,
+was an admirable housekeeper, and nothing could have been better
+done.&nbsp; The turbot and the haunch of venison were the pick of
+Grove&rsquo;s shop, the champagne was iced to perfection, and
+there was enough of it, as Mr. Donovan whispered to me, casting
+his eyes to the ceiling, &lsquo;to wash an omnibus,
+bedad.&rsquo;&nbsp; Mr. Donovan, though he never refused Mr.
+Wigan&rsquo;s hospitality, balanced the account by vilipending
+his friend&rsquo;s extravagant habits.&nbsp; While Mr. Wigan,
+probably giving him full credit for his gratitude, always spoke
+of him as &lsquo;Poor old Paddy Donovan.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>With Alfred Wigan, the eldest son, I was on very friendly
+terms.&nbsp; Nothing could be more unlike his father.&nbsp; His
+manner in his own house was exactly what it was on the
+stage.&nbsp; Albany Fonblanque, whose experiences began nearly
+forty years before mine, and who was not given to waste his
+praise, told me he considered Alfred Wigan the best
+&lsquo;gentleman&rsquo; he had ever seen on the stage.&nbsp; I
+think this impression was due in a great measure to Wigan&rsquo;s
+entire absence of affectation, and to his persistent appeal to
+the &lsquo;judicious&rsquo; but never to the
+&lsquo;groundlings.&rsquo;&nbsp; Mrs. Alfred Wigan was also a
+consummate artiste.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Through</span> George Bird I made the
+acquaintance of the leading surgeons and physicians of the North
+London Hospital, where I frequently attended the operations of
+Erichsen, John Marshall, and Sir Henry Thompson, following them
+afterwards in their clinical rounds.&nbsp; Amongst the
+physicians, Professor Sydney Ringer remains one of my oldest
+friends.&nbsp; Both surgery and therapeutics interested me
+deeply.&nbsp; With regard to the first, curiosity was
+supplemented by the incidental desire to overcome the natural
+repugnance we all feel to the mere sight of blood.</p>
+<p>Chemistry I studied in the laboratory of a professional friend
+of Dr. Bird&rsquo;s.&nbsp; After a while my teacher would leave
+me to carry out small commissions of a simple character which had
+been put into his hands, such as the analysis of water, bread, or
+other food-stuffs.&nbsp; He himself often had engagements
+elsewhere, and would leave me in possession of the laboratory,
+with a small urchin whom he had taught to be useful.&nbsp; This
+boy was of the meekest and mildest disposition.&nbsp; Whether his
+master had frightened him or not I do not know.&nbsp; He always
+spoke in a whisper, and with downcast eyes.&nbsp; He handled
+everything as if it was about to annihilate him, or he it, and
+looked as if he wouldn&rsquo;t bite&mdash;even a tartlet.</p>
+<p>One day when I had finished my task, and we were alone, I
+bethought me of making some laughing gas, and trying the effect
+of it on the gentle youth.&nbsp; I offered him a shilling for the
+experiment, which, however, proved more expensive than I had
+bargained for.&nbsp; I filled a bladder with the gas, and putting
+a bit of broken pipe-stem in its neck for a mouthpiece, gave it
+to the boy to suck&mdash;and suck he did.&nbsp; In a few seconds
+his eyes dilated, his face became lividly white, and I had some
+trouble to tear the intoxicating bladder from his clutches.&nbsp;
+The moment I had done so, the true nature of the gutter-snipe
+exhibited itself.&nbsp; He began by cutting flip-flaps and
+turning windmills all round the room; then, before I could stop
+him, swept an armful of valuable apparatus from the tables, till
+the whole floor was strewn with wreck and poisonous
+solutions.&nbsp; The dismay of the chemist when he returned may
+be more easily imagined than described.</p>
+<p>Some years ago, there was a well-known band of amateur
+musicians called the &lsquo;Wandering Minstrels.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+This band originated in my rooms in Dean&rsquo;s Yard.&nbsp; Its
+nucleus was composed of the following members: Seymour Egerton,
+afterwards Lord Wilton, Sir Archibald Macdonald my
+brother-in-law, Fred Clay, Bertie Mitford (the present Lord
+Redesdale&mdash;perhaps the finest amateur cornet and trumpet
+player of the day), and Lord Gerald Fitzgerald.&nbsp; Our
+concerts were given in the Hanover Square Rooms, and we played
+for charities all over the country.</p>
+<p>To turn from the musical art to the art&mdash;or science is it
+called?&mdash;of self-defence, once so patronised by the highest
+fashion, there was at this time a famous pugilistic
+battle&mdash;the last of the old kind&mdash;fought between the
+English champion, Tom Sayers, and the American champion,
+Heenan.&nbsp; Bertie Mitford and I agreed to go and see it.</p>
+<p>The Wandering Minstrels had given a concert in the Hanover
+Square Rooms.&nbsp; The fight was to take place on the following
+morning.&nbsp; When the concert was over, Mitford and I went to
+some public-house where the &lsquo;Ring&rsquo; had assembled, and
+where tickets were to be bought, and instructions received.&nbsp;
+Fights when gloves were not used, and which, especially in this
+case, might end fatally, were of course illegal; and every
+precaution had been taken by the police to prevent it.&nbsp; A
+special train was to leave London Bridge Station about 6 <span
+class="GutSmall">A.M.</span>&nbsp; We sat up all night in my
+room, and had to wait an hour in the train before the men with
+their backers arrived.&nbsp; As soon as it was daylight, we saw
+mounted police galloping on the roads adjacent to the line.&nbsp;
+No one knew where the train would pull up.&nbsp; Ten minutes
+after it did so, a ring was formed in a meadow close at
+hand.&nbsp; The men stripped, and tossed for places.&nbsp; Heenan
+won the toss, and with it a considerable advantage.&nbsp; He was
+nearly a head taller than Sayers, and the ground not being quite
+level, he chose the higher side of the ring.&nbsp; But this was
+by no means his only &lsquo;pull.&rsquo;&nbsp; Just as the men
+took their places the sun began to rise.&nbsp; It was in
+Heenan&rsquo;s back, and right in the other&rsquo;s face.</p>
+<p>Heenan began the attack at once with scornful confidence; and
+in a few minutes Sayers received a blow on the forehead above his
+guard which sent him slithering under the ropes; his head and
+neck, in fact, were outside the ring.&nbsp; He lay perfectly
+still, and in my ignorance, I thought he was done for.&nbsp; Not
+a bit of it.&nbsp; He was merely reposing quietly till his
+seconds put him on his legs.&nbsp; He came up smiling, but not a
+jot the worse.&nbsp; But in the course of another round or two,
+down he went again.&nbsp; The fight was going all one way.&nbsp;
+The Englishman seemed to be completely at the mercy of the
+giant.&nbsp; I was so disgusted that I said to my companion:
+&lsquo;Come along, Bertie, the game&rsquo;s up.&nbsp; Sayers is
+good for nothing.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>But now the luck changed.&nbsp; The bull-dog tenacity and
+splendid condition of Sayers were proof against these violent
+shocks.&nbsp; The sun was out of his eyes, and there was not a
+mark of a blow either on his face or his body.&nbsp; His temper,
+his presence of mind, his defence, and the rapidity of his
+movements, were perfect.&nbsp; The opening he had watched for
+came at last.&nbsp; He sprang off his legs, and with his whole
+weight at close quarters, struck Heenan&rsquo;s cheek just under
+the eye.&nbsp; It was like the kick of a cart-horse.&nbsp; The
+shouts might have been heard half-a-mile off.&nbsp; Up till now,
+the betting called after each round had come to &lsquo;ten to one
+on Heenan&rsquo;; it fell at once to evens.</p>
+<p>Heenan was completely staggered.&nbsp; He stood for a minute
+as if he did not know where he was or what had happened.&nbsp;
+And then, an unprecedented thing occurred.&nbsp; While he thus
+stood, Sayers put both hands behind his back, and coolly walked
+up to his foe to inspect the damage he had inflicted.&nbsp; I had
+hold of the ropes in Heenan&rsquo;s corner, consequently could
+not see his face without leaning over them.&nbsp; When I did so,
+and before time was called, one eye was completely closed.&nbsp;
+What kind of generosity prevented Sayers from closing the other
+during the pause, is difficult to conjecture.&nbsp; But his
+forbearance did not make much difference.&nbsp; Heenan became
+more fierce, Sayers more daring.&nbsp; The same tactics were
+repeated; and now, no longer to the astonishment of the crowd,
+the same success rewarded them.&nbsp; Another sledge-hammer blow
+from the Englishman closed the remaining eye.&nbsp; The
+difference in the condition of the two men must have been
+enormous, for in five minutes Heenan was completely
+sightless.</p>
+<p>Sayers, however, had not escaped scot-free.&nbsp; In
+countering the last attack, Heenan had broken one of the bones of
+Sayers&rsquo; right arm.&nbsp; Still the fight went on.&nbsp; It
+was now a brutal scene.&nbsp; The blind man could not defend
+himself from the other&rsquo;s terrible punishment.&nbsp; His
+whole face was so swollen and distorted, that not a feature was
+recognisable.&nbsp; But he evidently had his design.&nbsp; Each
+time Sayers struck him and ducked, Heenan made a swoop with his
+long arms, and at last he caught his enemy.&nbsp; With gigantic
+force he got Sayers&rsquo; head down, and heedless of his
+captive&rsquo;s pounding, backed step by step to the ring.&nbsp;
+When there, he forced Sayers&rsquo; neck on to the rope, and,
+with all his weight, leant upon the Englishman&rsquo;s
+shoulders.&nbsp; In a few moments the face of the strangled man
+was black, his tongue was forced out of his mouth, and his eyes
+from their sockets.&nbsp; His arms fell powerless, and in a
+second or two more he would have been a corpse.&nbsp; With a wild
+yell the crowd rushed to the rescue.&nbsp; Warning cries of
+&lsquo;The police!&nbsp; The police!&rsquo; mingled with the
+shouts.&nbsp; The ropes were cut, and a general scamper for the
+waiting train ended this last of the greatest prize-fights.</p>
+<p>We two took it easily, and as the mob were scuttling away from
+the police, we saw Sayers with his backers, who were helping him
+to dress.&nbsp; His arm seemed to hurt him a little, but
+otherwise, for all the damage he had received, he might have been
+playing at football or lawn tennis.</p>
+<p>We were quietly getting into a first-class carriage, when I
+was seized by the shoulder and roughly spun out of the way.&nbsp;
+Turning to resent the rudeness, I found myself face to face with
+Heenan.&nbsp; One of his seconds had pushed me on one side to let
+the gladiator get in.&nbsp; So completely blind was he, that the
+friend had to place his foot upon the step.&nbsp; And yet neither
+man had won the fight.</p>
+<p>We still think&mdash;profess to think&mdash;the barbarism of
+the &lsquo;Iliad&rsquo; the highest flight of epic poetry; if
+Homer had sung this great battle, how glorious we should have
+thought it!&nbsp; Beyond a doubt, man &lsquo;yet partially
+retains the characteristics that adapted him to an antecedent
+state.&rsquo;</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Through</span> the Cayley family, I became
+very intimate with their near relatives the Worsleys of
+Hovingham, near York.&nbsp; Hovingham has now become known to the
+musical world through its festivals, annually held at the Hall
+under the patronage of its late owner, Sir William Worsley.&nbsp;
+It was in his father&rsquo;s time that this fine place, with its
+delightful family, was for many years a home to me.&nbsp; Here I
+met the Alisons, and at the kind invitation of Sir Archibald,
+paid the great historian a visit at Possil, his seat in
+Scotland.&nbsp; As men who had achieved scientific or literary
+distinction inspired me with far greater awe than those of the
+highest rank&mdash;of whom from my childhood I had seen
+abundance&mdash;Alison&rsquo;s celebrity, his courteous manner,
+his oracular speech, his voluminous works, and his voluminous
+dimensions, filled me with too much diffidence and respect to
+admit of any freedom of approach.&nbsp; One listened to him, as
+he held forth of an evening when surrounded by his family, with
+reverential silence.&nbsp; He had a strong Scotch accent; and, if
+a wee bit prosy at times, it was sententious and polished prose
+that he talked; he talked invariably like a book.&nbsp; His
+family were devoted to him; and I felt that no one who knew him
+could help liking him.</p>
+<p>When Thackeray was giving readings from &lsquo;The Four
+Georges,&rsquo; I dined with Lady Grey and Landseer, and we three
+went to hear him.&nbsp; I had heard Dickens read &lsquo;The Trial
+of Bardell against Pickwick,&rsquo; and it was curious to compare
+the style of the two great novelists.&nbsp; With Thackeray, there
+was an entire absence of either tone or colour.&nbsp; Of course
+the historical nature of his subject precluded the dramatic
+suggestion to be looked for in the Pickwick trial, thus rendering
+comparison inapposite.&nbsp; Nevertheless one was bound to
+contrast them.&nbsp; Thackeray&rsquo;s features were impassive,
+and his voice knew no inflection.&nbsp; But his elocution in
+other respects was perfect, admirably distinct and impressive
+from its complete obliteration of the reader.</p>
+<p>The selection was from the reign of George the Third; and no
+part of it was more attentively listened to than his passing
+allusion to himself.&nbsp; &lsquo;I came,&rsquo; he says,
+&lsquo;from India as a child, and our ship touched at an island
+on the way home, where my black servant took me a long walk over
+rocks and hills until we reached a garden, where we saw a man
+walking.&nbsp; &ldquo;That is he,&rdquo; said the black man,
+&ldquo;that is Bonaparte!&nbsp; He eats three sheep every day,
+and all the little children he can lay hands
+on!&rdquo;&rsquo;&nbsp; One went to hear Thackeray, to see
+Thackeray; and the child and the black man and the ogre were
+there on the stage before one.&nbsp; But so well did the lecturer
+perform his part, that ten minutes later one had forgotten him,
+and saw only George Selwyn and his friend Horace Walpole, and
+Horace&rsquo;s friend, Miss Berry&mdash;whom by the way I too
+knew and remember.&nbsp; One saw the &lsquo;poor society ghastly
+in its pleasures, its loves, its revelries,&rsquo; and the
+redeeming vision of &lsquo;her father&rsquo;s darling, the
+Princess Amelia, pathetic for her beauty, her sweetness, her
+early death, and for the extreme passionate tenderness with which
+her father loved her.&rsquo;&nbsp; The story told, as Thackeray
+told it, was as delightful to listen to as to read.</p>
+<p>Not so with Dickens.&nbsp; He disappointed me.&nbsp; He made
+no attempt to represent the different characters by varied
+utterance; but whenever something unusually comic was said, or
+about to be said, he had a habit of turning his eyes up to the
+ceiling; so that, knowing what was coming, one nervously
+anticipated the upcast look, and for the moment lost the
+illusion.&nbsp; In both entertainments, the reader was naturally
+the central point of interest.&nbsp; But in the case of Dickens,
+when curiosity was satisfied, he alone possessed one; Pickwick
+and Mrs. Bardell were put out of court.</p>
+<p>Was it not Charles Lamb, or was it Hazlitt, that could not
+bear to see Shakespeare upon the stage?&nbsp; I agree with
+him.&nbsp; I have never seen a Falstaff that did not make me
+miserable.&nbsp; He is even more impossible to impersonate than
+Hamlet.&nbsp; A player will spoil you the character of Hamlet,
+but he cannot spoil his thoughts.&nbsp; Depend upon it, we are
+fortunate not to have seen Shakespeare in his ghost of Royal
+Denmark.</p>
+<p>In 1861 I married Lady Katharine Egerton, second daughter of
+Lord Wilton, and we took up our abode in Warwick Square, which,
+by the way, I had seen a few years before as a turnip
+field.&nbsp; My wife was an accomplished pianiste, so we had a
+great deal of music, and saw much of the artist world.&nbsp; I
+may mention one artistic dinner amongst our early efforts at
+housekeeping, which nearly ended with a catastrophe.</p>
+<p>Millais and Dicky Doyle were of the party; music was
+represented by Joachim, Piatti, and Hall&eacute;.&nbsp; The late
+Lord and Lady de Ros were also of the number.&nbsp; Lady de Ros,
+who was a daughter of the Duke of Richmond, had danced at the
+ball given by her father at Brussels the night before
+Waterloo.&nbsp; As Lord de Ros was then Governor of the Tower, it
+will be understood that he was a veteran of some standing.&nbsp;
+The great musical trio were enchanting all ears with their
+faultless performance, when the sweet and soul-stirring notes of
+the Adagio were suddenly interrupted by a loud crash and a
+shriek.&nbsp; Old Lord de Ros was listening to the music on a
+sofa at the further end of the room.&nbsp; Over his head was a
+large picture in a heavy frame.&nbsp; What vibrations, what
+careless hanging, what mischievous Ate or Discord was at the
+bottom of it, who knows?&nbsp; Down came the picture on the top
+of the poor old General&rsquo;s head, and knocked him senseless
+on the floor.&nbsp; He had to be carried upstairs and laid upon a
+bed.&nbsp; Happily he recovered without serious injury.&nbsp;
+There were many exclamations of regret, but the only one I
+remember was Millais&rsquo;.&nbsp; All he said was: &lsquo;And it
+is a good picture too.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Sir Arthur Sullivan was one of our musical favourites.&nbsp;
+My wife had known him as a chorister boy in the Chapel Royal; and
+to the end of his days we were on terms of the closest intimacy
+and friendship.&nbsp; Through him we made the acquaintance of the
+Scott Russells.&nbsp; Mr. Scott Russell was the builder of the
+Crystal Palace.&nbsp; He had a delightful residence at Sydenham,
+the grounds of which adjoined those of the Crystal Palace, and
+were beautifully laid out by his friend Sir Joseph Paxton.&nbsp;
+One of the daughters, Miss Rachel Russell, was a pupil of Arthur
+Sullivan&rsquo;s.&nbsp; She had great musical talent, she was
+remarkably handsome, exceedingly clever and well-informed, and
+altogether exceptionally fascinating.&nbsp; Quite apart from
+Sullivan&rsquo;s genius, he was in every way a charming
+fellow.&nbsp; The teacher fell in love with the pupil; and, as
+naturally, his love was returned.&nbsp; Sullivan was but a youth,
+a poor and struggling music-master.&nbsp; And, very naturally
+again, Mrs. Scott Russell, who could not be expected to know what
+magic b&acirc;ton the young maestro carried in his knapsack,
+thought her brilliant daughter might do better.&nbsp; The music
+lessons were put a stop to, and correspondence between the lovers
+was prohibited.</p>
+<p>Once a week or so, either the young lady or the young
+gentleman would, quite unexpectedly, pay us a visit about tea or
+luncheon time.&nbsp; And, by the strangest coincidence, the other
+would be sure to drop in while the one was there.&nbsp; This went
+on for a year or two.&nbsp; But destiny forbade the banns.&nbsp;
+In spite of the large fortune acquired by Mr. Scott
+Russell&mdash;he was the builder of the &lsquo;Great
+Eastern&rsquo; as well as the Crystal Palace&mdash;ill-advised or
+unsuccessful ventures robbed him of his well-earned wealth.&nbsp;
+His beautiful place at Sydenham had to be sold; and the marriage
+of Miss Rachel with young Arthur Sullivan was abandoned.&nbsp;
+She ultimately married an Indian official.</p>
+<p>Her story may here be told to the end.&nbsp; Some years later
+she returned to England to bring her two children home for their
+education, going back to India without them, as Indian mothers
+have to do.&nbsp; The day before she sailed, she called to take
+leave of us in London.&nbsp; She was terribly depressed, but
+fought bravely with her trial.&nbsp; She never broke down, but
+shunted the subject, talking and laughing with flashes of her old
+vivacity, about music, books, friends, and &lsquo;dear old dirty
+London,&rsquo; as she called it.&nbsp; When she left, I opened
+the street-door for her, and with both her hands in mine, bade
+her &lsquo;Farewell.&rsquo;&nbsp; Then the tears fell, and her
+parting words were: &lsquo;I am leaving England never to see it
+again.&rsquo;&nbsp; She was seized with cholera the night she
+reached Bombay, and died the following day.</p>
+<p>To return to her father, the eminent engineer.&nbsp; He was
+distinctly a man of genius, and what is called &lsquo;a
+character.&rsquo;&nbsp; He was always in the clouds&mdash;not in
+the vapour of his engine-rooms, nor busy inventing machines for
+extracting sunbeams from cucumbers, but musing on metaphysical
+problems and abstract speculations about the universe
+generally.&nbsp; In other respects a perfectly simple-minded
+man.</p>
+<p>It was in his palmy days that he invited me to run down to
+Sheerness with him, and go over the &lsquo;Great Eastern&rsquo;
+before she left with the Atlantic cable.&nbsp; This was in
+1865.&nbsp; The largest ship in the world, and the first Atlantic
+cable, were both objects of the greatest interest.&nbsp; The
+builder did not know the captain&mdash;Anderson&mdash;nor did the
+captain know the builder.&nbsp; But clearly, each would be glad
+to meet the other.</p>
+<p>As the leviathan was to leave in a couple of days, everything
+on board her was in the wildest confusion.&nbsp; Russell could
+not find anyone who could find the Captain; so he began poking
+about with me, till we accidentally stumbled on the
+Commander.&nbsp; He merely said that he was come to take a
+parting glance at his &lsquo;child,&rsquo; which did not seem of
+much concern to the over-busy captain.&nbsp; He never mentioned
+his own name, but introduced me as &lsquo;my friend Captain
+Cole.&rsquo;&nbsp; Now, in those days, Captain Cole was well
+known as a distinguished naval officer.&nbsp; To Russell&rsquo;s
+absent and engineering mind, &lsquo;Coke&rsquo; had suggested
+&lsquo;Cole,&rsquo; and &lsquo;Captain&rsquo; was inseparable
+from the latter.&nbsp; It was a name to conjure with.&nbsp;
+Captain Anderson took off his cap, shook me warmly by the hand,
+expressed his pleasure at making my acquaintance, and hoped I,
+and my friend Mr.&mdash;ahem&mdash;would come into his cabin and
+have luncheon, and then allow him to show me over his ship.&nbsp;
+Scott Russell was far too deeply absorbed in his surroundings to
+note any peculiarity in this neglect of himself and marked
+respect for &lsquo;Captain Cole.&rsquo;&nbsp; We made the round
+of the decks, then explored the engine room.&nbsp; Here the
+designer found himself in an earthly paradise.&nbsp; He
+button-holed the engineer and inquired into every crank, and
+piston, and valve, and every bolt, as it seemed to me, till the
+officer in charge unconsciously began to ask opinions instead of
+offering explanations.&nbsp; By degrees the captain was equally
+astonished at the visitor&rsquo;s knowledge, and when at last my
+friend asked what had become of some fixture or other which he
+missed, Captain Anderson turned to him and exclaimed, &lsquo;Why,
+you seem to know more about the ship than I do.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well, so I ought,&rsquo; says my friend, never for a
+moment supposing that Anderson was in ignorance of his
+identity.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Indeed!&nbsp; Who then are you, pray?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Who?&nbsp; Why, Scott Russell of course, the
+builder!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>There was a hearty laugh over it all.&nbsp; I managed to spare
+the captain&rsquo;s feelings by preserving my incognito, and so
+ended a pleasant day.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLIV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> November, 1862, my wife and I
+received an invitation to spend a week at Compi&egrave;gne with
+their Majesties the Emperor and Empress of the French.&nbsp; This
+was due to the circumstance that my wife&rsquo;s father, Lord
+Wilton, as Commodore of the Royal Yacht Squadron, had entertained
+the Emperor during his visit to Cowes.</p>
+<p>We found an express train with the imperial carriages awaiting
+the arrival of the English guests at the station du Nord.&nbsp;
+The only other English besides ourselves were Lord and Lady
+Winchilsea with Lady Florence Paget, and Lord and Lady
+Castlerosse, now Lord and Lady Kenmare.&nbsp; These, however, had
+preceded us, so that with the exception of M. Drouyn de Lhuys, we
+had the saloon carriage to ourselves.</p>
+<p>The party was a very large one, including the Walewskis, the
+Persignys, the Metternichs&mdash;he, the Austrian
+Ambassador&mdash;Prince Henri VII. of Reuss, Prussian Ambassador,
+the Prince de la Moskowa, son of Marshal Ney, and the
+Labedoy&egrave;res, amongst the historical names.&nbsp; Amongst
+those of art and literature, of whom there were many, the only
+one whom I made the acquaintance of was Octave Feuillet.&nbsp; I
+happened to have brought his &lsquo;Com&eacute;dies et
+Proverbes&rsquo; and another of his books with me, never
+expecting to meet him; this so pleased him that we became
+allies.&nbsp; I was surprised to find that he could not even read
+English, which I begged him to learn for the sake of Shakespeare
+alone.</p>
+<p>We did not see their Majesties till dinner-time.&nbsp; When
+the guests were assembled, the women and the men were arranged
+separately on opposite sides of the room.&nbsp; The Emperor and
+Empress then entered, each respectively welcoming those of their
+own sex, shaking hands and saying some conventional word in
+passing.&nbsp; Me, he asked whether I had brought my guns, and
+hoped we should have a good week&rsquo;s sport.&nbsp; To each one
+a word.&nbsp; Every night during the week we sat down over a
+hundred to dinner.&nbsp; The Army was largely represented.&nbsp;
+For the first time I tasted here the national frog, which is
+neither fish nor flesh.&nbsp; The wine was, of course, supreme;
+but after every dish a different wine was handed round.&nbsp; The
+evening entertainments were varied.&nbsp; There was the theatre
+in the Palace, and some of the best of the Paris artistes were
+requisitioned for the occasion.&nbsp; With them came
+D&egrave;jazet, then nearly seventy, who had played before
+Buonaparte.</p>
+<p>Almost every night there was dancing.&nbsp; Sometimes the
+Emperor would walk through a quadrille, but as a rule he would
+retire with one of his ministers, though only to a smaller
+boudoir at the end of the suite, where a couple of whist-tables
+were ready for the more sedate of the party.&nbsp; Here one
+evening I found Prince Metternich showing his Majesty a chess
+problem, of which he was the proud inventor.&nbsp; The Emperor
+asked whether I was fond of chess.&nbsp; I was very fond of
+chess, was one of the regular <i>habitu&eacute;s</i> of St.
+George&rsquo;s Chess Club, and had made a study of the game for
+years.&nbsp; The Prince challenged me to solve his problem in
+four moves.&nbsp; It was not a very profound one.&nbsp; I had the
+hardihood to discover that three, rather obvious moves, were
+sufficient.&nbsp; But as I was not Gil Blas, and the Prince was
+not the Archbishop of Grenada, it did not much matter.&nbsp; Like
+the famous prelate, his Excellency proffered his felicitations,
+and doubtless also wished me &lsquo;un peu plus de
+go&ucirc;t&rsquo; with the addition of &lsquo;un peu moins de
+perspicacit&eacute;.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>One of the evening performances was an exhibition of
+<i>poses-plastiques</i>, the subjects being chosen from
+celebrated pictures in the Louvre.&nbsp; Theatrical costumiers,
+under the command of a noted painter, were brought from
+Paris.&nbsp; The ladies of the court were carefully rehearsed,
+and the whole thing was very perfectly and very beautifully
+done.&nbsp; All the English ladies were assigned parts.&nbsp;
+But, as nearly all these depended less upon the beauties of
+drapery than upon those of nature, the English ladies were more
+than a little staggered by the demands of the painter and of
+the&mdash;<i>un</i>dressers.&nbsp; To the young and handsome Lady
+Castlerosse, then just married, was allotted the figure of
+Diana.&nbsp; But when informed that, in accordance with the
+original, the drapery of one leg would have to be looped up above
+the knee, her ladyship used very firm language; and, though of
+course perfectly ladylike, would, rendered into masculine terms,
+have signified that she would &lsquo;see the painter d&mdash;d
+first.&rsquo;&nbsp; The celebrated &lsquo;Cruche
+cass&eacute;e&rsquo; of Greuze, was represented by the reigning
+beauty, the Marquise de Gallifet, with complete fidelity and
+success.</p>
+<p>There was one stage of the performance which neither I nor
+Lord Castlerosse, both of us newly married, at all
+appreciated.&nbsp; This was the privileges of the Green-room, or
+rather of the dressing-rooms.&nbsp; The exhibition was given in
+the ball-room.&nbsp; On one side of this, until the night of the
+performances, an enclosure was boarded off.&nbsp; Within it, were
+compartments in which the ladies dressed
+and&mdash;undressed.&nbsp; At this operation, as we young
+husbands discovered, certain young gentlemen of the court were
+permitted to assist&mdash;I think I am not mistaken in saying
+that his Majesty was of the number.&nbsp; What kind of assistance
+was offered or accepted, Castlerosse and I, being on the wrong
+side of the boarding, were not in a position to know.</p>
+<p>There was a door in the boarding, over which one expected to
+see, &lsquo;No admittance except on business,&rsquo; or perhaps,
+&lsquo;on pleasure.&rsquo;&nbsp; At this door I rapped, and
+rapped again impatiently.&nbsp; It was opened, only as wide as
+her face, by the empress.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;What do you want, sir?&rsquo; was the angry demand.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;To see my wife, madame,&rsquo; was the submissive
+reply.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;You can&rsquo;t see her; she is rehearsing.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;But, madame, other gentlemen&mdash;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Ah!&nbsp; Mais, c&rsquo;est un enfantillage!&nbsp;
+Allez-vous-en.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>And the door was slammed in my face.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Well,&rsquo; thought I, &lsquo;the right woman is in
+the right place there, at all events.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Another little incident at the performance itself also
+recalled the days and manners of the court of Louis XV.&nbsp;
+Between each tableau, which was lighted solely from the raised
+stage, the lights were put out, and the whole room left in
+complete darkness.&nbsp; Whenever this happened, the sounds of
+immoderate kissing broke out in all directions, accompanied by
+little cries of resistance and protestation.&nbsp; Until then, I
+had always been under the impression that humour of this kind was
+confined to the servants&rsquo; hall.&nbsp; One could not help
+thinking of another court, where things were managed
+differently.</p>
+<p>But the truth is, these trivial episodes were symptomatic of a
+pervading tone.&nbsp; A no inconsiderable portion of the ladies
+seemed to an outsider to have been invited for the sake of their
+personal charms.&nbsp; After what has just been related, one
+could not help fancying that there were some amongst them who had
+availed themselves of the privilege which, according to Tacitus,
+was claimed by Vistilia before the &AElig;diles.&nbsp; So far,
+however, from any of these noble ladies being banished to the
+Isle of Seriphos, they seemed as much attached to the court as
+the court to them; and whatever the Roman Emperor might have
+done, the Emperor of the French was all that was most
+indulgent.</p>
+<p>There were two days&rsquo; shooting, one day&rsquo;s stag
+hunting, an expedition to Pierrefonds, and a couple of days spent
+in riding and skating.&nbsp; The shooting was very much after the
+fashion of that already described at Prince Esterhazy&rsquo;s,
+though of a much more Imperial character.&nbsp; As in Hungary,
+the game had been driven into coverts cut down to the height of
+the waist, with paths thirty to forty yards apart, for the
+guns.</p>
+<p>The weather was cold, with snow on the ground, but it was a
+beautifully sunny day.&nbsp; This was the party: the two
+ambassadors, the Prince de la Moskowa, Persigny,
+Walewski&mdash;Bonaparte&rsquo;s natural son, and the image of
+his father&mdash;the Marquis de Toulongeon, Master of the Horse,
+and we three Englishmen.&nbsp; We met punctually at eleven in the
+grand saloon.&nbsp; Here the Emperor joined us, with his
+cigarette in his mouth, shook hands with each, and bade us take
+our places in the char-a-bancs.&nbsp; Four splendid Normandy
+greys, with postilions in the picturesque old costume, glazed
+hats and huge jack-boots, took us through the forest at full
+gallop, and in half an hour we were at the covert side.&nbsp; The
+Emperor was very cheery all the way.&nbsp; He cautioned me not to
+shoot back for the beaters&rsquo; sakes, and asked me how many
+guns I had brought.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Two only? that&rsquo;s not enough, I will lend you some
+of mine.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Arrived at our beat&mdash;&lsquo;Tire de Royallieu,&rsquo; we
+found a squadron of dismounted cavalry drawn up in line, ready to
+commence operations.&nbsp; They were in stable dress, with canvas
+trousers and spurs to their boots.&nbsp; Several officers were
+galloping about giving orders, the whole being under the command
+of a mounted chief in green uniform and cocked hat!&nbsp; The
+place of each shooter had been settled by M. de Toulongeon.&nbsp;
+I, being the only Nobody of the lot, was put on the extreme
+outside.&nbsp; The Emperor was in the middle; and although, as I
+noticed, he made some beautiful shots at rocketers, he was
+engaged much of the time in talking to ministers who walked
+behind, or beside, him.</p>
+<p>Our servants were already in the places allotted to their
+masters, and each of us had two keepers to carry spare guns (the
+Emperor had not forgotten to send me two of his, which I could
+not shoot with, and never used), and a sergeant with a large card
+to prick off each head of game, not as it fell to the gun, but
+only after it was picked up.&nbsp; This conscientious scoring
+amused me greatly; for, as it chanced, my bag was a heavy one,
+and the Emperor&rsquo;s marker sent constant messages to mine to
+compare notes, and so arrange, as it transpired, to keep His
+Majesty at the top of the score.</p>
+<p>About half-past one we reached a clearing where
+<i>d&eacute;jeuner</i> was awaiting us.&nbsp; The scene presented
+was striking.&nbsp; Around a tent in which every delicacy was
+spread out were numbers of little charcoal fires, where a still
+greater number of cooks in white caps and jackets were preparing
+dainty dishes; while the Imperial footmen bustling about
+brightened the picture with colour.&nbsp; After coffee all the
+cards were brought to his Majesty.&nbsp; When he had scanned
+them, he said to me across the table:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I congratulate you, Mr. Coke, upon having killed the
+most.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>My answer was, &lsquo;After you, Sir.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Yes,&rsquo; said he, giving his moustache an upward
+twist, but with perfect gravity, &lsquo;I always kill the
+most.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Just then the Empress and the whole court drove up.&nbsp;
+Presently she came into the tent and, addressing her husband,
+exclaimed:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Avez-vous bient&ocirc;t fini, vous autres?&nbsp; Ah!
+que vous &ecirc;tes des gourmands!&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Till the finish, she and the rest walked with the
+shooters.&nbsp; By four it was over.&nbsp; The total score was
+1,387 head.&nbsp; Mine was 182, which included thirty-six
+partridges, two woodcocks, and four roedeer.&nbsp; This, in three
+and a half hours&rsquo; shooting, with two muzzle-loaders
+(breech-loaders were not then in use), was an unusually good
+bag.</p>
+<p>Fashion is capricious.&nbsp; When lunch was over I went to one
+of the charcoal fires, quite in the background, to light a
+cigarette.&nbsp; An aide-de-camp immediately pounced upon me,
+with the information that this was not permitted in company with
+the Empress.&nbsp; It reminded one at once of the ejaculation at
+Oliver Twist&rsquo;s bedside, &lsquo;Ladies is present, Mr.
+Giles.&rsquo;&nbsp; After the shooting, I was told to go to tea
+with the Empress&mdash;a terrible ordeal, for one had to face the
+entire feminine force of the palace, nearly every one of whom,
+from the highest to the lowest, was provided with her own
+<i>cavaliere servente</i>.</p>
+<p>The following night, when we assembled for dinner, I received
+orders to sit next to the Empress.&nbsp; This was still more
+embarrassing.&nbsp; It is true, one does not speak to a sovereign
+unless one is spoken to; but still one is permitted to make the
+initiative easy.&nbsp; I found that I was expected to take my
+share of the task; and by a happy inspiration, introduced the
+subject of the Prince Imperial, then a child of eight years
+old.&nbsp; The <i>mondaine</i> Empress was at once merged in the
+adoring mother; her whole soul was wrapped up in the boy.&nbsp;
+It was easy enough then to speculate on his career, at least so
+far as the building of castles in the air for fantasies to roam
+in.&nbsp; What a future he had before him!&mdash;to consolidate
+the Empire! to perfect the great achievement of his father, and
+render permanent the foundation of the Napoleonic dynasty! to
+build a superstructure as transcendent for the glories of Peace,
+as those of his immortal ancestor had been for War!</p>
+<p>It was not difficult to play the game with such court cards in
+one&rsquo;s hand.&nbsp; Nor was it easy to coin these <i>phrases
+de sucrecandi</i> without sober and earnest reflections on the
+import of their contents.&nbsp; What, indeed, might or might not
+be the consequences to millions, of the wise or unwise or evil
+development of the life of that bright and handsome little
+fellow, now trotting around the dessert table, with the long
+curls tumbling over his velvet jacket, and the flowers in his
+hand for some pretty lady who was privileged to kiss him?&nbsp;
+Who could foretell the cruel doom&mdash;heedless of such favours
+and such splendid promises&mdash;that awaited the pretty
+child?&nbsp; Who could hear the brave young soldier&rsquo;s last
+shrieks of solitary agony?&nbsp; Who could see the forsaken body
+slashed with knives and assegais?&nbsp; Ah! who could dream of
+that fond mother&rsquo;s heart, when the end came, which eclipsed
+even the disasters of a nation!</p>
+<p>One by-day, when my wife and I were riding with the Emperor
+through the forest of Compi&egrave;gne, a rough-looking man in a
+blouse, with a red comforter round his neck, sprang out from
+behind a tree; and before he could be stopped, seized the
+Emperor&rsquo;s bridle.&nbsp; In an instant the Emperor struck
+his hand with a heavy hunting stock; and being free, touched his
+horse with the spur and cantered on.&nbsp; I took particular
+notice of his features and his demeanour, from the very first
+moment of the surprise.&nbsp; Nothing happened but what I have
+described.&nbsp; The man seemed fierce and reckless.&nbsp; The
+Emperor showed not the faintest signs of discomposure.&nbsp; All
+he said was, turning to my wife, &lsquo;Comme il avait
+l&rsquo;air sournois, cet homme!&rsquo; and resumed the
+conversation at the point where it was interrupted.</p>
+<p>Before we had gone a hundred yards I looked back to see what
+had become of the offender.&nbsp; He was in the hands of two
+<i>gens d&rsquo;armes</i>, who had been invisible till then.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Poor devil,&rsquo; thought I, &lsquo;this spells
+dungeon for you.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Now, with Kinglake&rsquo;s acrimonious charge of the
+Emperor&rsquo;s personal cowardice running in my head, I felt
+that this exhibition of <i>sang froid</i>, when taken completely
+unawares, went far to refute the imputation.&nbsp; What happened
+later in the day strongly confirmed this opinion.</p>
+<p>After dark, about six o&rsquo;clock, I took a stroll by myself
+through the town of Compi&egrave;gne.&nbsp; Coming home, when
+crossing the bridge below the Palace, I met the Emperor
+arm-in-arm with Walewski.&nbsp; Not ten minutes afterwards, whom
+should I stumble upon but the ruffian who had seized the
+Emperor&rsquo;s bridle?&nbsp; The same red comforter was round
+his neck, the same wild look was in his face.&nbsp; I turned
+after he had passed, and at the same moment he turned to look at
+me.</p>
+<p>Would this man have been at large but for the Emperor&rsquo;s
+orders?&nbsp; Assuredly not.&nbsp; For, supposing he were crazy,
+who could have answered for his deeds?&nbsp; Most likely he was
+shadowed; and to a certainty the Emperor would be so.&nbsp;
+Still, what could save the latter from a pistol-shot?&nbsp; Yet,
+here he was, sauntering about the badly lighted streets of a town
+where his kenspeckle figure was familiar to every
+inhabitant.&nbsp; Call this fatalism if you will; but these were
+not the acts of a coward.&nbsp; I told this story to a friend who
+was well &lsquo;posted&rsquo; in the club gossip of the
+day.&nbsp; He laughed.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Don&rsquo;t you know the meaning of Kinglake&rsquo;s
+spite against the Emperor?&rsquo; said he.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;<i>Cherchez la femme</i>.&nbsp; Both of them were in love
+with Mrs. &mdash;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>This is the way we write our histories.</p>
+<p>Wishing to explore the grounds about the palace before anyone
+was astir, I went out one morning about half-past eight.&nbsp;
+Seeing what I took to be a mausoleum, I walked up to it, found
+the door opened, and peeped in.&nbsp; It turned out to be a
+museum of Roman antiquities, and the Emperor was inside,
+arranging them.&nbsp; I immediately withdrew, but he called to me
+to come in.</p>
+<p>He was at this time busy with his Life of C&aelig;sar; and, in
+his enthusiasm, seemed pleased to have a listener to his
+instructive explanations; he even encouraged the curiosity which
+the valuable collection and his own remarks could not fail to
+awaken.</p>
+<p>Not long ago, I saw some correspondence in the Times&rsquo;
+and other papers about what Heine calls &lsquo;Das kleine
+welthistorische H&ucirc;tchen,&rsquo; which the whole of Europe
+knew so well, to its cost.&nbsp; Some six or seven of the
+Buonaparte hats, so it appears, are still in existence.&nbsp; But
+I noticed, that though all were located, no mention was made of
+the one in the Luxembourg.</p>
+<p>When we left Compi&egrave;gne for Paris we were magnificently
+furnished with orders for royal boxes at theatres, and for
+admission to places of interest not open to the public.&nbsp;
+Thus provided, we had access to many objects of historical
+interest and of art&mdash;amongst the former, the relics of the
+great conqueror.&nbsp; In one glass case, under lock and key, was
+the &lsquo;world-historical little hat.&rsquo;&nbsp; The official
+who accompanied us, having stated that we were the
+Emperor&rsquo;s guests, requested the keeper to take it out and
+show it to us.&nbsp; I hope no Frenchman will know it, but, I put
+the hat upon my head.&nbsp; In one sense it was a
+&lsquo;little&rsquo; hat&mdash;that is to say, it fitted a man
+with a moderate sized skull&mdash;but the flaps were much larger
+than pictures would lead one to think, and such was the weight
+that I am sure it would give any ordinary man accustomed to our
+head-gear a still neck to wear it for an hour.&nbsp; What has
+become of this hat if it is not still in the Luxembourg?</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLV</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> few years later, while
+travelling with my family in Switzerland, we happened to be
+staying at Baveno on Lago Maggiore at the same time, and in the
+same hotel, as the Crown Prince and Princess of Germany.&nbsp;
+Their Imperial Highnesses occupied a suite of apartments on the
+first floor.&nbsp; Our rooms were immediately above them.&nbsp;
+As my wife was known to the Princess, occasional greetings passed
+from balcony to balcony.</p>
+<p>One evening while watching two lads rowing from the shore in
+the direction of Isola Bella, I was aroused from my contemplation
+of a gathering storm by angry vociferations beneath me.&nbsp;
+These were addressed to the youths in the boat.&nbsp; The anxious
+father had noted the coming tempest; and, with hands to his
+mouth, was shouting orders to the young gentlemen to
+return.&nbsp; Loud and angry as cracked the thunder, the imperial
+voice o&rsquo;ertopped it.&nbsp; Commands succeeded admonitions,
+and as the only effect on the rowers was obvious recalcitrancy,
+oaths succeeded both: all in those throat-clearing tones to which
+the German language so consonantly lends itself.&nbsp; In a few
+minutes the boat was immersed in the down-pour which concealed
+it.</p>
+<p>The elder of the two oarsmen was no other than the future
+firebrand peacemaker, Miching Mallecho, our fierce little
+Tartarin de Berlin.&nbsp; One wondered how he, who would not be
+ruled, would come in turn to rule?&nbsp; That question is a
+burning one; and may yet set the world in flames to solve it.</p>
+<p>A comic little incident happened here to my own
+children.&nbsp; There was but one bathing-machine.&nbsp; This,
+the two&mdash;a schoolboy and his sister&mdash;used in the early
+morning.&nbsp; Being rather late one day, they found it engaged;
+and growing impatient the boy banged at the door of the machine,
+with a shout in schoolboy&rsquo;s vernacular: &lsquo;Come, hurry
+up; we want to dip.&rsquo;&nbsp; Much to the surprise of the
+guilty pair, an answer, also in the best of English, came from
+the inside: &lsquo;Go away, you naughty boy.&rsquo;&nbsp; The
+occupant was the Imperial Princess.&nbsp; Needless to say the
+children bolted with a mingled sense of mischief and alarm.</p>
+<p>About this time I joined a society for the relief of distress,
+of which Bromley Davenport was the nominal leader.&nbsp; The
+&lsquo;managing director,&rsquo; so to speak, was Dr. Gilbert,
+father of Mr. W. S. Gilbert.&nbsp; To him I went for
+instructions.&nbsp; I told him I wanted to see the worst.&nbsp;
+He accordingly sent me to Bethnal Green.&nbsp; For two winters
+and part of a third I visited this district twice a week
+regularly.&nbsp; What I saw in the course of those two years was
+matter for a thoughtful&mdash;ay, or a thoughtless&mdash;man to
+think of for the rest of his days.</p>
+<p>My system was to call first upon the clergyman of the parish,
+and obtain from him a guide to the severest cases of
+destitution.&nbsp; The guide would be a Scripture reader, and, as
+far as I remember, always a woman.&nbsp; I do not know whether
+the labours of these good creatures were gratuitous&mdash;they
+themselves were certainly poor, yet singularly earnest and
+sympathetic.&nbsp; The society supplied tickets for coal,
+blankets, and food.&nbsp; Needless to say, had these supplies
+been a thousand-fold as great, they would have done as little
+permanent good as those at my command.</p>
+<p>In Bethnal Green the principal industry is, or was,
+silk-weaving by hand looms.&nbsp; Nearly all the houses were
+ancient and dilapidated.&nbsp; A weaver and his family would
+occupy part of a flat, consisting of two rooms perhaps, one of
+which would contain his loom.&nbsp; The room might be about seven
+feet high, nearly dark, lighted only by a lattice window, half of
+the panes of which would be replaced by dirty rags or old
+newspaper.&nbsp; As the loom was placed against the window the
+light was practically excluded.&nbsp; The foulness of the air and
+filth which this entailed may be too easily imagined.&nbsp; A
+couple of cases, taken almost at random, will sample scores as
+bad.</p>
+<p>It is one of the darkest days of December.&nbsp; The Thames is
+nearly frozen at Waterloo Bridge.&nbsp; On the second floor of an
+old house in &mdash; Lane, in an unusually spacious room (or does
+it only look spacious because there is nothing in it save four
+human beings?) are a father, a mother, and a grown-up son and
+daughter.&nbsp; They scowl at the visitor as the Scripture reader
+opens the door.&nbsp; What is the meaning of the intrusion?&nbsp;
+Is he too come with a Bible instead of bread?&nbsp; The four are
+seated side by side on the floor, leaning against the wall,
+waiting for&mdash;death.&nbsp; Bedsteads, chairs, table, and
+looms have been burnt this week or more for fuel.&nbsp; The grate
+is empty now, and lets the freezing draught blow down the
+chimney.&nbsp; The temporary relief is accepted, but not with
+thanks.&nbsp; These four stubbornly prefer death to the
+work-house.</p>
+<p>One other case.&nbsp; It is the same hard winter.&nbsp; The
+scene: a small garret in the roof, a low slanting little
+skylight, now covered six inches deep in snow.&nbsp; No fireplace
+here, no ventilation, so put your scented cambric to your nose,
+my noble Dives.&nbsp; The only furniture a scanty armful
+of&mdash;what shall we call it?&nbsp; It was straw once.&nbsp; A
+starving woman and a baby are lying on it, notwithstanding.&nbsp;
+The baby surely will not be there to-morrow.&nbsp; It has a very
+bad cold&mdash;and the mucus, and the&mdash;pah!&nbsp; The woman
+in a few rags&mdash;just a few&mdash;is gnawing a raw
+carrot.&nbsp; The picture is complete.&nbsp; There&rsquo;s
+nothing more to paint.&nbsp; The rest&mdash;the whole indeed,
+that is the consciousness of it&mdash;was, and remains, with the
+Unseen.</p>
+<p>You will say, &lsquo;Such things cannot be&rsquo;; you will
+say, &lsquo;There are relieving officers, whose duty, etc.,
+etc.&rsquo;&nbsp; May be.&nbsp; I am only telling you what I
+myself have seen.&nbsp; There is more goes on in big cities than
+even relieving officers can cope with.&nbsp; And who shall
+grapple with the causes?&nbsp; That&rsquo;s the point.</p>
+<p>Here is something else that I have seen.&nbsp; I have seen a
+family of six in one room.&nbsp; Of these, four were brothers and
+sisters, all within, none over, their teens.&nbsp; There were
+three beds between the six.&nbsp; When I came upon them they were
+out of work,&mdash;the young ones in bed to keep warm.&nbsp; I
+took them for very young married couples.&nbsp; It was the
+Scripture reader who undeceived me.&nbsp; This is not the
+exception to the rule, look you, but the rule itself.&nbsp; How
+will you deal with it?&nbsp; It is with Nature, immoral Nature
+and her heedless instincts that you have to deal.&nbsp; With what
+kind of fork will you expel her?&nbsp; It is with Nature&rsquo;s
+wretched children, the <i>b&ecirc;tes humaines</i>,</p>
+<blockquote><p>Quos venerem incertam rapientes more ferarum,</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>that your account lies.&nbsp; Will they cease to listen to her
+maddening whispers: &lsquo;Unissez-vous, multipliez, il
+n&rsquo;est d&rsquo;autre loi, d&rsquo;autre but, que
+l&rsquo;amour?&rsquo;&nbsp; What care they for her
+aside&mdash;&lsquo;Et durez apr&egrave;s, si vous le pouvez; cela
+ne me regarde plus&rsquo;?&nbsp; It doesn&rsquo;t regard them
+either.</p>
+<p>The infallible panacea, so the &lsquo;Progressive&rsquo; tell
+us, is education&mdash;lessons on the piano, perhaps?&nbsp;
+Doctor Malthus would be more to the purpose; but how shall we
+administer his prescriptions?&nbsp; One thing we might try to
+teach to advantage, and that is the elementary principles of
+hygiene.&nbsp; I am heart and soul with the Progressive as to the
+ultimate remedial powers of education.&nbsp; Moral advancement
+depends absolutely on the humanising influences of intellectual
+advancement.&nbsp; The foreseeing of consequences is a question
+of intelligence.&nbsp; And the appreciation of consequences which
+follow is the basis of morality.&nbsp; But we must not begin at
+the wrong end.&nbsp; The true foundation and condition of
+intellectual and moral progress postulates material and physical
+improvement.&nbsp; The growth of artificial wants is as much the
+cause as the effect of civilisation: they proceed <i>pari
+passu</i>.&nbsp; A taste of comfort begets a love of
+comfort.&nbsp; And this kind of love militates, not impotently,
+against the other; for self-interest is a persuasive counsellor,
+and gets a hearing when the blood is cool.&nbsp; Life must be
+more than possible, it must be endurable; man must have some
+leisure, some repose, before his brain-needs have a chance with
+those of his belly.&nbsp; He must have a coat to his back before
+he can stick a rose in its button-hole.&nbsp; The worst of it is,
+he begins&mdash;in Bethnal Green at least&mdash;with the
+rose-bud; and indulges, poor devil! in a luxury which is just the
+most expensive, and&mdash;in our Bethnal Greens&mdash;the most
+suicidal he could resort to.</p>
+<p>There was one method I adopted with a show of temporary
+success now and then.&nbsp; It frequently happens that a man
+succumbs to difficulties for which he is not responsible, and
+which timely aid may enable him to overcome.&nbsp; An artisan may
+have to pawn or sell the tools by which he earns his
+living.&nbsp; The redemption of these, if the man is good for
+anything, will often set him on his legs.&nbsp; Thus, for
+example, I found a cobbler one day surrounded by a starving
+family.&nbsp; His story was common enough, severe illness being
+the burden of it.&nbsp; He was an intelligent little fellow, and,
+as far as one could judge, full of good intentions.&nbsp; His
+wife seemed devoted to him, and this was the best of
+vouchers.&nbsp; &lsquo;If he had but a shilling or two to redeem
+his tools, and buy two or three old cast-off shoes in the
+rag-market which he could patch up and sell, he wouldn&rsquo;t
+ask anyone for a copper.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We went together to the pawnbroker&rsquo;s, then to the
+rag-market, and the little man trotted home with an armful of old
+boots and shoes, some without soles, some without uppers; all, as
+I should have thought, picked out of dust-bins and rubbish heaps,
+his sunken eyes sparkling with eagerness and renovated
+hope.&nbsp; I looked in upon him about three weeks later.&nbsp;
+The family were sitting round a well provided tea-table, close to
+a glowing fire, the cheeks of the children smeared with jam, and
+the little cobbler hammering away at his last, too busy to
+partake of the bowl of hot tea which his wife had placed beside
+him.</p>
+<p>The same sort of treatment was sometimes very successful with
+a skilful workman&mdash;like a carpenter, for instance.&nbsp;
+Here a double purpose might be served.&nbsp; Nothing more common
+in Bethnal Green than broken looms, and consequent
+disaster.&nbsp; There you had the ready-made job for the
+reinstated carpenter; and good could be done in a small way, at
+very little cost.&nbsp; Of coarse much discretion is needed;
+still, the Scripture readers or the relieving officers would know
+the characters of the destitute, and the visitor himself would
+soon learn to discriminate.</p>
+<p>A system similar to this was the basis of the aid rendered by
+the Royal Society for the Assistance of Discharged Prisoners,
+which was started by my friend, Mr. Whitbread, the present owner
+of Southill, and which I joined in its early days at his
+instigation.&nbsp; The earnings of the prisoner were handed over
+by the gaols to the Society, and the Society employed them for
+his advantage&mdash;always, in the case of an artisan, by
+supplying him with the needful implements of his trade.&nbsp; But
+relief in which the pauper has no productive share, of which he
+is but a mere consumer, is of no avail.</p>
+<p>One cannot but think that if instead of the selfish principles
+which govern our trades-unions, and which are driving their
+industries out of the country, trade-schools could be
+provided&mdash;such, for instance, as the cheap carving schools
+to be met with in many parts of Germany and the Tyrol&mdash;much
+might be done to help the bread-earners.&nbsp; Why could not
+schools be organised for the instruction of shoemakers, tailors,
+carpenters, smiths of all kinds, and the scores of other trades
+which in former days were learnt by compulsory
+apprenticeship?&nbsp; Under our present system of education the
+greater part of what the poor man&rsquo;s children learn is clean
+forgotten in a few years; and if not, serves mainly to create and
+foster discontent, which vents itself in a passion for
+mass-meetings and the fuliginous oratory of our Hyde Parks.</p>
+<p>The emigration scheme for poor-law children as advocated by
+Mrs. Close is the most promising, in its way, yet brought before
+the public, and is deserving of every support.</p>
+<p>In the absence of any such projects as these, the hopelessness
+of the task, and the depressing effect of the contact with much
+wretchedness, wore me out.&nbsp; I had a nursery of my own, and
+was not justified in risking infectious diseases.&nbsp; A saint
+would have been more heroic, and could besides have promised that
+sweetest of consolations to suffering millions&mdash;the
+compensation of Eternal Happiness.&nbsp; I could not give them
+even hope, for I had none to spare.&nbsp; The root-evil I felt to
+be the overcrowding due to the reckless intercourse of the sexes;
+and what had Providence to do with a law of Nature, obedience to
+which entailed unspeakable misery?</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVI</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">In</span> the autumn following the end of
+the Franco-German war, Dr. Bird and I visited all the principal
+battlefields.&nbsp; In England the impression was that the
+bloodiest battle was fought at Gravelotte.&nbsp; The error was
+due, I believe, to our having no war correspondent on the
+spot.&nbsp; Compared with that on the plains between St. Marie
+and St. Privat, Gravelotte was but a cavalry skirmish.&nbsp; We
+were fortunate enough to meet a German artillery officer at St.
+Marie who had been in the action, and who kindly explained the
+distribution of the forces.&nbsp; Large square mounds were
+scattered about the plain where the German dead were buried,
+little wooden crosses being stuck into them to denote the
+regiment they had belonged to.&nbsp; At Gravelotte we saw the
+dogs unearthing the bodies from the shallow graves.&nbsp; The
+officer told us he did not think there was a family in Germany
+unrepresented in the plains of St. Privat.</p>
+<p>It was interesting so soon after the event, to sit quietly in
+the little summer-house of the Ch&acirc;teau de Bellevue,
+commanding a view of Sedan, where Bismarck and Moltke and General
+de Wimpfen held their memorable Council.&nbsp; &lsquo;Un terrible
+homme,&rsquo; says the story of the
+&lsquo;D&eacute;b&acirc;cle,&rsquo; &lsquo;ce
+g&eacute;n&eacute;ral de Moltke, qui gagnait des batailles du
+fond de son cabinet &agrave; coups
+d&rsquo;alg&egrave;bre.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>We afterwards made a walking tour through the Tyrol, and down
+to Venice.&nbsp; On our way home, while staying at Lucerne, we
+went up the Rigi.&nbsp; Soon after leaving the Kulm, on our
+descent to the railway, which was then uncompleted, we lost each
+other in the mist.&nbsp; I did not get to Vitznau till late at
+night, but luckily found a steamer just starting for
+Lucerne.&nbsp; The cabin was crammed with German students, each
+one smoking his pipe and roaring choruses to alternate
+singers.&nbsp; All of a sudden, those who were on their legs were
+knocked off them.&nbsp; The panic was instantaneous, for every
+one of us knew it was a collision.&nbsp; But the immediate peril
+was in the rush for the deck.&nbsp; Violent with terror, rough by
+nature, and full of beer, these wild young savages were
+formidable to themselves and others.&nbsp; Having arrived late, I
+had not got further than the cabin door, and was up the companion
+ladder at a bound.&nbsp; It was pitch dark, and piteous screams
+came up from the surrounding waters.&nbsp; At first it was
+impossible to guess what had happened.&nbsp; Were we rammed, or
+were we rammers?&nbsp; I pulled off my coats ready for a
+swim.&nbsp; But it soon became apparent that we had run into and
+sunk another boat.</p>
+<p>The next morning the doctor and I went on to England.&nbsp; A
+week after I took up the &lsquo;Illustrated News.&rsquo;&nbsp;
+There was an account of the accident, with an illustration of the
+cabin of the sunken boat.&nbsp; The bodies of passengers were
+depicted as the divers had found them.</p>
+<p>On the very day the peace was signed I chanced to call on Sir
+Anthony Rothschild in New Court.&nbsp; He took me across the
+court to see his brother Lionel, the head of the firm.&nbsp; Sir
+Anthony bowed before him as though the great man were Plutus
+himself.&nbsp;&nbsp; He sat at a table alone, not in his own
+room, but in the immense counting-room, surrounded by a brigade
+of clerks.&nbsp; This was my first introduction to him.&nbsp; He
+took no notice of his brother, but received me as Napoleon
+received the emperors and kings at Erfurt&mdash;in other words,
+as he would have received his slippers from his valet, or as he
+did receive the telegrams which were handed to him at the rate of
+about one a minute.</p>
+<p>The King of Kings was in difficulties with a little slip of
+black sticking-plaster.&nbsp; The thought of Gumpelino&rsquo;s
+Hyacinthos, <i>alias</i> Hirsch, flashed upon me.&nbsp; Behold!
+the mighty Baron Nathan come to life again; but instead of
+Hyacinthos paring his mightiness&rsquo;s <i>H&uuml;hneraugen</i>,
+he himself, in paring his own nails, had contrived to cut his
+finger.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Come to buy Spanish?&rsquo; he asked, with eyes intent
+upon the sticking-plaster.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Oh no,&rsquo; said I, &lsquo;I&rsquo;ve no money to
+gamble with.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Hasn&rsquo;t Lord Leicester bought
+Spanish?&rsquo;&mdash;never looking off the sticking-plaster, nor
+taking the smallest notice of the telegrams.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Not that I know of.&nbsp; Are they good
+things?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;I don&rsquo;t know; some people think so.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Here a message was handed in, and something was whispered in
+his ear.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Very well, put it down.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;From Paris,&rsquo; said Sir Anthony, guessing perhaps
+at its contents.</p>
+<p>But not until the plaster was comfortably adjusted did Plutus
+read the message.&nbsp; He smiled and pushed it over to me.&nbsp;
+It was the terms of peace, and the German bill of costs.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;&pound;200,000,000!&rsquo; I exclaimed.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;That&rsquo;s a heavy reckoning.&nbsp; Will France ever be
+able to pay it?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Pay it?&nbsp; Yes.&nbsp; If it had been twice as
+much!&rsquo;&nbsp; And Plutus returned to his
+sticking-plaster.&nbsp; That was of real importance.</p>
+<p>Last autumn&mdash;1904, the literary world was not a little
+gratified by an announcement in the &lsquo;Times&rsquo; that the
+British Museum had obtained possession of the original manuscript
+of Keats&rsquo;s &lsquo;Hyperion.&rsquo;&nbsp; Let me tell the
+story of its discovery.&nbsp; During the summer of last year, my
+friend Miss Alice Bird, who was paying me a visit at Longford,
+gave me this account of it.</p>
+<p>When Leigh Hunt&rsquo;s memoirs were being edited by his son
+Thornton in 1861, he engaged the services of three intimate
+friends of the family to read and collate the enormous mass of
+his father&rsquo;s correspondence.&nbsp; Miss Alice Bird was one
+of the chosen three.&nbsp; The arduous task completed, Thornton
+Hunt presented each of his three friends with a number of
+autographic letters, which, according to Miss Bird&rsquo;s
+description, he took almost at random from the eliminated
+pile.&nbsp; Amongst the lot that fell to Miss Bird&rsquo;s share
+was a roll of stained paper tied up with tape.&nbsp; This she was
+led to suppose&mdash;she never carefully examined it&mdash;might
+be either a copy or a draft of some friend&rsquo;s unpublished
+poem.</p>
+<p>The unknown treasure was put away in a drawer with the
+rest.&nbsp; Here it remained undisturbed for forty-three
+years.&nbsp; Having now occasion to remove these papers, she
+opened the forgotten scroll, and was at once struck both with the
+words of the &lsquo;Hyperion,&rsquo; and with the resemblance of
+the writing to Keats&rsquo;s.</p>
+<p>She forthwith consulted the Keepers of the Manuscripts in the
+British Museum, with the result that her <i>trouvaille</i> was
+immediately identified as the poet&rsquo;s own draft of the
+&lsquo;Hyperion.&rsquo;&nbsp; The responsible authorities soon
+after, offered the fortunate possessor five hundred guineas for
+the manuscript, but courteously and honestly informed her that,
+were it put up to auction, some American collector would be
+almost sure to give a much larger sum for it.</p>
+<p>Miss Bird&rsquo;s patriotism prevailed over every other
+consideration.&nbsp; She expressed her wish that the poem should
+be retained in England; and generously accepted what was
+indubitably less than its market value.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVII</h2>
+<p>A <span class="GutSmall">MAN</span> whom I had known from my
+school-days, Frederick Thistlethwayte, coming into a huge fortune
+when a subaltern in a marching regiment, had impulsively married
+a certain Miss Laura Bell.&nbsp; In her early days, when she made
+her first appearance in London and in Paris, Laura Bell&rsquo;s
+extraordinary beauty was as much admired by painters as by men of
+the world.&nbsp; Amongst her reputed lovers were Dhuleep Singh,
+the famous Marquis of Hertford, and Prince Louis Napoleon.&nbsp;
+She was the daughter of an Irish constable, and began life on the
+stage at Dublin.&nbsp; Her Irish wit and sparkling merriment, her
+cajolery, her good nature and her feminine artifice, were
+attractions which, in the eyes of the male sex, fully atoned for
+her youthful indiscretions.</p>
+<p>My intimacy with both Mr. and Mrs. Thistlethwayte extended
+over many years; and it is but justice to her memory to aver
+that, to the best of my belief, no wife was ever more faithful to
+her husband.&nbsp; I speak of the Thistlethwaytes here for two
+reasons&mdash;absolutely unconnected in themselves, yet both
+interesting in their own way.&nbsp; The first is, that at my
+friend&rsquo;s house in Grosvenor Square I used frequently to
+meet Mr. Gladstone, sometimes alone, sometimes at dinner.&nbsp;
+As may be supposed, the dinner parties were of men, but mostly of
+men eminent in public life.&nbsp; The last time I met Mr.
+Gladstone there the Duke of Devonshire and Sir W. Harcourt were
+both present.&nbsp; I once dined with Mrs. Thistlethwayte in the
+absence of her husband, when the only others were Munro of
+Novar&mdash;the friend of Turner, and the envied possessor of a
+splendid gallery of his pictures&mdash;and the Duke of
+Newcastle&mdash;then a Cabinet Minister.&nbsp; Such were the
+notabilities whom the famous beauty gathered about her.</p>
+<p>But it is of Mr. Gladstone that I would say a word.&nbsp; The
+fascination which he exercised over most of those who came into
+contact with him is incontestable; and everyone is entitled to
+his own opinion, even though unable to account for it.&nbsp;
+This, at least, must be my plea, for to me, Mr. Gladstone was
+more or less a Dr. Fell.&nbsp; Neither in his public nor in his
+private capacity had I any liking for him.&nbsp; Nobody cares a
+button for what a &lsquo;man in the street&rsquo; like me says or
+thinks on subject matters upon which they have made up their
+minds.&nbsp; I should not venture, even as one of the crowd, to
+deprecate a popularity which I believe to be fast passing away,
+were it not that better judges and wiser men think as I do, and
+have represented opinions which I sincerely share.&nbsp;
+&lsquo;He was born,&rsquo; says Huxley, &lsquo;to be a leader of
+men, and he has debased himself to be a follower of the
+masses.&nbsp; If working men were to-day to vote by a majority
+that two and two made five, to-morrow Gladstone would believe it,
+and find them reasons for it which they had never dreamt
+of.&rsquo;&nbsp; Could any words be truer?&nbsp; Yes; he was not
+born to be a leader of men.&nbsp; He was born to be, what he
+was&mdash;a misleader of men.&nbsp; Huxley says he could be made
+to believe that two and two made five.&nbsp; He would try to make
+others believe it; but would he himself believe it?&nbsp; His
+friends will plead, &lsquo;he might deceive himself by the
+excessive subtlety of his mind.&rsquo;&nbsp; This is the
+charitable view to take.&nbsp; But some who knew him long and
+well put another construction upon this facile
+self-deception.&nbsp; There were, and are, honourable men of the
+highest standing who failed to ascribe disinterested motives to
+the man who suddenly and secretly betrayed his colleagues, his
+party, and his closest friends, and tried to break up the Empire
+to satisfy an inordinate ambition, and an insatiable craving for
+power.&nbsp; &lsquo;He might have been mistaken, but he acted for
+the best&rsquo;?&nbsp;&nbsp; Was he acting conscientiously for
+the best in persuading the &lsquo;masses&rsquo; to look upon the
+&lsquo;classes&rsquo;&mdash;the war cries are of his
+coining&mdash;as their natural enemies, and worthy only of their
+envy and hatred?&nbsp; Is this the part of a statesman, of a
+patriot?</p>
+<p>And for what else shall we admire Mr. Gladstone?&nbsp; Walter
+Bagehot, alluding to his egotism, wrote of him in his lifetime,
+&lsquo;He longs to pour forth his own belief; he cannot rest till
+he has contradicted everyone else.&rsquo;&nbsp; And what was that
+belief worth?&nbsp; &lsquo;He has scarcely,&rsquo; says the same
+writer, &lsquo;given us a sentence that lives in the
+memory.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Even his eloquent advocate, Mr. Morley, confesses surprise at
+his indifference to the teaching of evolution; in other words,
+his ignorance of, and disbelief in, a scientific theory of nature
+which has modified the theological and moral creeds of the
+civilised world more profoundly than did the Copernican system of
+the Universe.</p>
+<p>The truth is, Mr. Gladstone was half a century behind the age
+in everything that most deeply concerned the destiny of
+man.&nbsp; He was a politician, and nothing but a politician; and
+had it not been for his extraordinary gift of speech, we should
+never have heard of him save as a writer of scholia, or as a
+college don, perhaps.&nbsp; Not for such is the temple of
+Fame.</p>
+<blockquote><p>Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>Whatever may be thought now, Mr. Gladstone is not the man whom
+posterity will ennoble with the title of either
+&lsquo;great&rsquo; or &lsquo;good.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>My second reason for mentioning Frederick Thistlethwayte was
+one which at first sight may seem trivial, and yet, when we look
+into it, is of more importance than the renown of an ex-Prime
+Minister.&nbsp; If these pages are ever read, what follows will
+be as distasteful to some of my own friends as the above remarks
+to Mr. Gladstone&rsquo;s.</p>
+<p>Pardon a word about the writer himself&mdash;it is needed to
+emphasise and justify these <i>obiter dicta</i>.&nbsp; I was
+brought up as a sportsman: I cannot remember the days when I
+began to shoot.&nbsp; I had a passion for all kinds of sport, and
+have had opportunities of gratifying it such as fall to the lot
+of few.&nbsp; After the shootings of Glenquoich and Invergarry
+were lost to me through the death of Mr. Ellice, I became almost
+the sole guest of Mr. Thistlethwayte for twelve years at his
+Highland shooting of Kinlochmohr, not very far from Fort
+William.&nbsp; He rented the splendid deer forest of Mamore,
+extensive grouse moors, and a salmon river within ten
+minutes&rsquo; walk of the lodge.&nbsp; His marriage and his
+eccentricities of mind and temper led him to shun all
+society.&nbsp; We often lived in bothies at opposite ends of the
+forest, returning to the lodge on Saturday till Monday
+morning.&nbsp; For a sportsman, no life could be more
+enjoyable.&nbsp; I was my own stalker, taking a couple of gillies
+for the ponies, but finding the deer for myself&mdash;always the
+most difficult part of the sport&mdash;and stalking them for
+myself.</p>
+<p>I may here observe that, not very long after I married, qualms
+of conscience smote me as to the justifiability of killing,
+<i>and wounding</i>, animals for amusement&rsquo;s sake.&nbsp;
+The more I thought of it, the less it bore thinking about.&nbsp;
+Finally I gave it up altogether.&nbsp; But I went on several
+years after this with the deer-stalking; the true explanation of
+this inconsistency would, I fear, be that I had had enough of the
+one, but would never have enough of the other&mdash;one&rsquo;s
+conscience adapts itself without much difficulty to one&rsquo;s
+inclinations.</p>
+<p>Between my host and myself, there was a certain amount of
+rivalry; and as the head forester was his stalker, the rivalry
+between our men aroused rancorous jealousy.&nbsp; I think the
+gillies on either side would have spoilt the others&rsquo; sport,
+could they have done so with impunity.&nbsp; For two seasons, a
+very big stag used occasionally to find its way into our forest
+from the Black Mount, where it was also known.&nbsp;
+Thistlethwayte had had a chance, and missed it; then my turn
+came.&nbsp; I got a long snap-shot end on at the galloping
+stag.&nbsp; It was an unsportsmanlike thing to do, but
+considering the rivalry and other temptations I fired, and hit
+the beast in the haunch.&nbsp; It was late in the day, and the
+wounded animal escaped.</p>
+<p>Nine days later I spied the &lsquo;big stag&rsquo;
+again.&nbsp; He was nearly in the middle of a herd of about
+twenty, mostly hinds, on the look-out.&nbsp; They were on a large
+open moss at the bottom of a corrie, whence they could see a
+moving object on every side of them.&nbsp; A stalk where they
+were was out of the question.&nbsp; I made up my mind to wait and
+watch.</p>
+<p>Now comes the moral of my story.&nbsp; For hours I watched
+that stag.&nbsp; Though three hundred yards or so away from me, I
+could through my glass see almost the expression of his
+face.&nbsp; Not once did he rise or attempt to feed, but lay
+restlessly beating his head upon the ground for hour after
+hour.&nbsp; I knew well enough what that meant.&nbsp; I could not
+hear his groans.&nbsp; His plaints could not reach my ears, but
+they reached my heart.&nbsp; The refrain varied little:
+&lsquo;How long shall I cry and Thou wilt not
+hear?&rsquo;&mdash;that was the monotonous burden of the moans,
+though sometimes I fancied it changed to: &lsquo;Lord how long
+shall the wicked, how long shall the wicked triumph?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>The evening came, and then, as is their habit, the deer began
+to feed up wind.&nbsp; The wounded stag seemed loth to
+stir.&nbsp; By degrees the last watchful hind fed quietly out of
+sight.&nbsp; With throbbing pulse and with the instincts of a
+fox&mdash;or prehistoric man, &rsquo;tis all the same&mdash;I
+crawled and dragged myself through the peat bog and the pools of
+water.&nbsp; But nearer than two hundred yards it was impossible
+to get; even to raise my head or find a tussock whereon to rest
+the rifle would have started any deer but this one.&nbsp; From
+the hollow I was in, the most I could see of him was the outline
+of his back and his head and neck.&nbsp; I put up the 200 yards
+sight and killed him.</p>
+<p>A vivid description of the body is not desirable.&nbsp; It was
+almost fleshless, wasted away, except his wounded haunch.&nbsp;
+That was nearly twice its normal size; about one half of it was
+maggots.&nbsp; The stench drove us all away.&nbsp; This I had
+done, and I had done it for my pleasure!</p>
+<p>After that year I went no more to Scotland.&nbsp; I blame no
+one for his pursuit of sport.&nbsp; But I submit that he must
+follow it, if at all, with Reason&rsquo;s eyes shut.&nbsp;
+Happily, your true sportsman does not violate his
+conscience.&nbsp; As a friend of mine said to me the other day,
+&lsquo;Unless you give a man of that kind something to kill, his
+own life is not worth having.&rsquo;&nbsp; This, to be sure, is
+all he has to think about.</p>
+<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII</h2>
+<p><span class="smcap">For</span> eight or nine years, while my
+sons were at school, I lived at Rickmansworth.&nbsp;
+Unfortunately the Leweses had just left it.&nbsp; Moor Park
+belonged to Lord Ebury, my wife&rsquo;s uncle, and the beauties
+of its magnificent park and the amenities of its charming house
+were at all times open to us, and freely taken advantage
+of.&nbsp; During those nine years I lived the life of a student,
+and wrote and published the book I have elsewhere spoken of, the
+&lsquo;Creeds of the Day.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Of the visitors of note whose acquaintance I made while I was
+staying at Moor Park, by far the most illustrious was
+Froude.&nbsp; He was too reserved a man to lavish his intimacy
+when taken unawares; and if he suspected, as he might have done
+by my probing, that one wanted to draw him out, he was much too
+shrewd to commit himself to definite expressions of any kind
+until he knew something of his interviewer.&nbsp; Reticence of
+this kind, on the part of such a man, is both prudent and
+commendable.&nbsp; But is not this habit of cautiousness
+sometimes carried to the extent of ambiguity in his &lsquo;Short
+Studies on Great Subjects&rsquo;?&nbsp; The careful reader is
+left in no sort of doubt as to Froude&rsquo;s own views upon
+Biblical criticism, as to his theological dogmas, or his
+speculative opinions.&nbsp; But the conviction is only reached by
+comparing him with himself in different moods, by collating essay
+with essay, and one part of an essay with another part of the
+same essay.&nbsp; Sometimes we have an astute defence of
+doctrines worthy at least of a temperate apologist, and a few
+pages further on we wonder whether the writer was not masking his
+disdain for the credulity which he now exposes and laughs
+at.&nbsp; Neither excessive caution nor timidity are implied by
+his editing of the Carlyle papers; and he may have
+failed&mdash;who that has done so much has not?&mdash;in keeping
+his balance on the swaying slack-rope between the judicious and
+the injudicious.&nbsp; In his own line, however, he is, to my
+taste, the most scholarly, the most refined, and the most
+suggestive, of our recent essayists.&nbsp; The man himself in
+manner and in appearance was in perfect keeping with these
+attractive qualities.</p>
+<p>While speaking of Moor Park and its kind owner I may avail
+myself of this opportunity to mention an early reminiscence of
+Lord Ebury&rsquo;s concerning the Grosvenor estate in London.</p>
+<p>Mr. Gladstone was wont to amuse himself with speculations as
+to the future dimensions of London; what had been its growth
+within his memory; what causes might arise to cheek its
+increase.&nbsp; After listening to his remarks on the subject one
+day at dinner, I observed that I had heard Lord Ebury talk of
+shooting over ground which is now Eaton Square.&nbsp; Mr.
+Gladstone of course did not doubt it; but some of the young men
+smiled incredulously.&nbsp; I afterwards wrote to Lord Ebury to
+make sure that I had not erred.&nbsp; Here is his reply:</p>
+<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">&lsquo;Moor Park,
+Rickmansworth: January 9, 1883.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;My dear Henry,&mdash;What you said I had told you about
+snipe-shooting is quite true, though I think I ought to have
+mentioned a space rather nearer the river than Eaton
+Square.&nbsp; In the year 1815, when the battle of Waterloo was
+fought, there was nothing behind Grosvenor Place but the
+(&mdash;?) fields&mdash;so called, a place something like the
+Scrubbs, where the household troops drilled.&nbsp; That part of
+Grosvenor Place where the Grosvenor Place houses now stand was
+occupied by the Lock Hospital and Chapel, and it ended where the
+small houses are now to be found.&nbsp; A little farther, a
+somewhat tortuous lane called the King&rsquo;s Road led to
+Chelsea, and, I think, where now St. Peter&rsquo;s, Pimlico, was
+afterwards built.&nbsp; I remember going to a breakfast at a
+villa belonging to Lady Buckinghamshire.&nbsp; The Chelsea
+Waterworks Company had a sort of marshy place with canals and
+osier beds, now, I suppose, Ebury Street, and here it was that I
+was permitted to go and try my hand at snipe-shooting, a special
+privilege given to the son of the freeholder.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;The successful fox-hunt terminating in either Bedford
+or Russell Square is very strange, but quite appropriate,
+commemorated, I suppose, by the statue <a
+name="citation342"></a><a href="#footnote342"
+class="citation">[342]</a> there erected.</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">Yours affectionately,<br />
+&lsquo;E.&rsquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>The successful &lsquo;fox-hunt&rsquo; was an event of which I
+told Lord Ebury as even more remarkable than his snipe-shooting
+in Belgravia.&nbsp; As it is still more indicative of the growth
+of London in recent times it may be here recorded.</p>
+<p>In connection with Mr. Gladstone&rsquo;s forecasts, I had
+written to the last Lord Digby, who was a grandson of my
+father&rsquo;s, stating that I had heard&mdash;whether from my
+father or not I could not say&mdash;that he had killed a fox
+where now is Bedford Square, with his own hounds.</p>
+<p>Lord Digby replied:</p>
+<blockquote><p style="text-align: right">&lsquo;Minterne, Dorset:
+January 7, 1883.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;My dear Henry,&mdash;My grandfather killed a fox with
+his hounds either in Bedford or Russell Square.&nbsp; Old Jones,
+the huntsman, who died at Holkham when you were a child, was my
+informant.&nbsp; I asked my grandfather if it was correct.&nbsp;
+He said &ldquo;Yes&rdquo;&mdash;he had kennels at Epping Place,
+and hunted the roodings of Essex, which, he said, was the best
+scenting-ground in England.</p>
+<p style="text-align: right">&lsquo;Yours affectionately,<br />
+&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Digby</span>.&rsquo;</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>(My father was born in 1754.)</p>
+<div class="gapspace">&nbsp;</div>
+<p>Mr. W. S. Gilbert had been a much valued friend of ours before
+we lived at Rickmansworth.&nbsp; We had been his guests for the
+&lsquo;first night&rsquo; of almost every one of his
+plays&mdash;plays that may have a thousand imitators, but the
+speciality of whose excellence will remain unrivalled and
+inimitable.&nbsp; His visits to us introduced him, I think, to
+the picturesque country which he has now made his home.&nbsp;
+When Mr. Gilbert built his house in Harrington Gardens he easily
+persuaded us to build next door to him.&nbsp; This led to my
+acquaintance with his neighbour on the other side, Mr. Walter
+Cassels, now well known as the author of &lsquo;Supernatural
+Religion.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>When first published in 1874, this learned work, summarising
+and elaborately examining the higher criticism of the four
+Gospels up to date, created a sensation throughout the
+theological world, which was not a little intensified by the
+anonymity of its author.&nbsp; The virulence with which it was
+attacked by Dr. Lightfoot, the most erudite bishop on the bench,
+at once demonstrated its weighty significance and its destructive
+force; while Mr. Morley&rsquo;s high commendation of its literary
+merits and the scrupulous equity of its tone, placed it far above
+the level of controversial diatribes.</p>
+<p>In my &lsquo;Creeds of the Day&rsquo; I had made frequent
+references to the anonymous book; and soon after my introduction
+to Mr. Cassels spoke to him of its importance, and asked him
+whether he had read it.&nbsp; He hesitated for a moment, then
+said:</p>
+<p>&lsquo;We are very much of the same way of thinking on these
+subjects.&nbsp; I will tell you a secret which I kept for some
+time even from my publishers&mdash;I am the author of
+&ldquo;Supernatural Religion.&rdquo;&rsquo;</p>
+<p>From that time forth, we became the closest of allies.&nbsp; I
+know no man whose tastes and opinions and interests are more
+completely in accord with my own than those of Mr. Walter
+Cassels.&nbsp; It is one of my greatest pleasures to meet him
+every summer at the beautiful place of our mutual and sympathetic
+friend, Mrs. Robertson, on the skirts of the Ashtead forest, in
+Surrey.</p>
+<p>The winter of 1888 I spent at Cairo under the roof of General
+Sir Frederick Stephenson, then commanding the English forces in
+Egypt.&nbsp; I had known Sir Frederick as an ensign in the
+Guards.&nbsp; He was adjutant of his regiment at the Alma, and at
+Inkerman.&nbsp; He is now Colonel of the Coldstreams and Governor
+of the Tower.&nbsp; He has often been given a still higher title,
+that of &lsquo;the most popular man in the army.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>Everybody in these days has seen the Pyramids, and has been up
+the Nile.&nbsp; There is only one name I have to mention here,
+and that is one of the best-known in the world.&nbsp; Mr. Thomas
+Cook was the son of the original inventor of the
+&lsquo;Globe-trotter.&rsquo;&nbsp; But it was the extraordinary
+energy and powers of organisation of the son that enabled him to
+develop to its present efficiency the initial scheme of the
+father.</p>
+<p>Shortly before the General&rsquo;s term expired, he invited
+Mr. Cook to dinner.&nbsp; The Nile share of the Gordon Relief
+Expedition had been handed over to Cook.&nbsp; The boats, the
+provisioning of them, and the river transport service up to Wady
+Halfa, were contracted for and undertaken by Cook.</p>
+<p>A most entertaining account he gave of the whole affair.&nbsp;
+He told us how the Mudir of Dongola, who was by way of rendering
+every possible assistance, had offered him an enormous bribe to
+wreck the most valuable cargoes on their passage through the
+Cataracts.</p>
+<p>Before Mr. Cook took leave of the General, he expressed the
+regret felt by the British residents in Cairo at the termination
+of Sir Frederick&rsquo;s command; and wound up a pretty little
+speech by a sincere request that he might be allowed to furnish
+Sir Frederick <i>gratis</i> with all the means at his disposal
+for a tour through the Holy Land.&nbsp; The liberal and highly
+complimentary offer was gratefully acknowledged, but at once
+emphatically declined.&nbsp; The old soldier, (at least, this was
+my guess,) brave in all else, had not the courage to face the
+tourists&rsquo; profanation of such sacred scenes.</p>
+<p>Dr. Bird told me a nice story, a pendant to this, of Mr.
+Thomas Cook&rsquo;s liberality.&nbsp; One day, before the Gordon
+Expedition, which was then in the air, Dr. Bird was smoking his
+cigarette on the terrace in front of Shepherd&rsquo;s Hotel, in
+company with four or five other men, strangers to him and to one
+another.&nbsp; A discussion arose as to the best means of
+relieving Gordon.&nbsp; Each had his own favourite general.&nbsp;
+Presently the doctor exclaimed: &lsquo;Why don&rsquo;t they put
+the thing into the hands of Cook?&nbsp; I&rsquo;ll be bound to
+say he would undertake it, and do the job better than anyone
+else.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Do you know Cook, sir?&rsquo; asked one of the smokers
+who had hitherto been silent.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;No, I never saw him, but everybody knows he has a
+genius for organisation; and I don&rsquo;t believe there is a
+general in the British Army to match him.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>When the company broke up, the silent stranger asked the
+doctor his name and address, and introduced himself as Thomas
+Cook.&nbsp; The following winter Dr. Bird received a letter
+enclosing tickets for himself and Miss Bird for a trip to Egypt
+and back, free of expense, &lsquo;in return for his good opinion
+and good wishes.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>After my General&rsquo;s departure, and a month up the Nile,
+I&mdash;already disillusioned, alas!&mdash;rode through Syria,
+following the beaten track from Jerusalem to Damascus.&nbsp; On
+my way from Alexandria to Jaffa I had the good fortune to make
+the acquaintance of an agreeable fellow-traveller, Mr. Henry
+Lopes, afterwards member for Northampton, also bound for
+Palestine.&nbsp; We went to Constantinople and to the Crimea
+together, then through Greece, and only parted at Charing
+Cross.</p>
+<p>It was easy to understand Sir Frederick Stephenson&rsquo;s
+(supposed) unwillingness to visit Jerusalem.&nbsp; It was
+probably far from being what it is now, or even what it was when
+Pierre Loti saw it, for there was no railway from Jaffa in our
+time.&nbsp; Still, what Loti pathetically describes as &lsquo;une
+banalit&eacute; de banlieue parisienne,&rsquo; was even then too
+painfully casting its vulgar shadows before it.&nbsp; And it was
+rather with the forlorn eyes of the sentimental Frenchman than
+with the veneration of Dean Stanley, that we wandered about the
+ever-sacred Aceldama of mortally wounded and dying
+Christianity.</p>
+<p>One dares not, one could never, speak irreverently of
+Jerusalem.&nbsp; One cannot think heartlessly of a disappointed
+love.&nbsp; One cannot tear out creeds interwoven with the
+tenderest fibres of one&rsquo;s heart.&nbsp; It is better to be
+silent.&nbsp; Yet is it a place for unwept tears, for the deep
+sadness and hard resignation borne in upon us by the eternal loss
+of something dearer once than life.&nbsp; All we who are weary
+and heavy laden, in whom now shall we seek the rest which is not
+nothingness?</p>
+<p>My story is told, but I fain would take my leave with words
+less sorrowful.&nbsp; If a man has no better legacy to bequeath
+than bid his fellow-beings despair, he had better take it with
+him to his grave.</p>
+<blockquote><p>We know all this, we know!</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>But it is in what we do not know that our hope and our
+religion lies.&nbsp; Thrice blessed are we in the certainty that
+here our range is infinite.&nbsp; This infinite that makes our
+brains reel, that begets the feeling that makes us
+&lsquo;shrink,&rsquo; is perhaps the most portentous argument in
+the logic of the sceptic.&nbsp; Since the days of Laplace, we
+have been haunted in some form or other with the ghost of the
+<i>M&eacute;canique C&eacute;leste</i>.&nbsp; Take one or two
+commonplaces from the text-books of astronomy:</p>
+<p>Every half-hour we are about ten thousand miles nearer to the
+constellation of Lyra.&nbsp; &lsquo;The sun and his system must
+travel at his present rate for far more than a million years
+(divide this into half-hours) before we have crossed the abyss
+between our present position and the frontiers of Lyra&rsquo;
+(Ball&rsquo;s &lsquo;Story of the Heavens&rsquo;).</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Sirius is about one million times as far from us as the
+sun.&nbsp; If we take the distance of Sirius from the earth and
+subdivide it into one million equal parts, each of these parts
+would be long enough to span the great distance of 92,700,000
+miles from the earth to the sun,&rsquo; yet Sirius is one of the
+<i>nearest</i> of the stars to us.</p>
+<p>The velocity with which light traverses space is 186,300 miles
+a second, at which rate it has taken the rays from Sirius which
+we may see to-night, nine years to reach us.&nbsp; The proper
+motion of Sirius through space is about one thousand miles a
+minute.&nbsp; Yet &lsquo;careful alignment of the eye would
+hardly detect that Sirius was moving, in . . . even three or four
+centuries.&rsquo;</p>
+<p>&lsquo;There may be, and probably are, stars from which Noah
+might be seen stepping into the Ark, Eve listening to the
+temptation of the serpent, or that older race, eating the oysters
+and leaving the shell-heaps behind them, when the Baltic was an
+open sea&rsquo; (Froude&rsquo;s &lsquo;Science of
+History&rsquo;).</p>
+<p>Facts and figures such as these simply stupefy us.&nbsp; They
+vaguely convey the idea of something immeasurably great, but
+nothing further.&nbsp; They have no more effect upon us than
+words addressed to some poor &lsquo;bewildered creature, stunned
+and paralysed by awe; no more than the sentence of death to the
+terror-stricken wretch at the bar.&nbsp; Indeed, it is in this
+sense that the sceptic uses them for our warning.</p>
+<p>&lsquo;Seit Kopernikus,&rsquo; says Schopenhauer,
+&lsquo;kommen die Theologen mit dem lieben Gott in
+Verlegenheit.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;No one,&rsquo; he adds,
+&lsquo;has so damaged Theism as Copernicus.&rsquo;&nbsp; As if
+limitation and imperfection in the celestial mechanism would make
+for the belief in God; or, as if immortality were incompatible
+with dependence.&nbsp; Des Cartes, for one, (and he counts for
+many,) held just the opposite opinion.</p>
+<p>Our sun and all the millions upon millions of suns whose light
+will never reach us are but the aggregation of atoms drawn
+together by the same force that governs their orbit, and which
+makes the apple fall.&nbsp; When their heat, however generated,
+is expended, they die to frozen cinders; possibly to be again
+diffused as nebul&aelig;, to begin again the eternal round of
+change.</p>
+<p>What is life amidst this change?&nbsp; &lsquo;When I consider
+the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast
+ordained, what is man that Thou art mindful of him?&rsquo;</p>
+<p>But is He mindful of us?&nbsp; That is what the sceptic
+asks.&nbsp; Is He mindful of life here or anywhere in all this
+boundless space?&nbsp; We have no ground for supposing (so we are
+told) that life, if it exists at all elsewhere, in the solar
+system at least, is any better than it is here?&nbsp;
+&lsquo;Analogy compels us to think,&rsquo; says M. France, one of
+the most thoughtful of living writers, &lsquo;that our entire
+solar system is a gehenna where the animal is born for suffering.
+. . .&nbsp; This alone would suffice to disgust me with the
+universe.&rsquo;&nbsp; But M. France is too deep a thinker to
+abide by such a verdict.&nbsp; There must be something
+&lsquo;behind the veil.&rsquo;&nbsp; &lsquo;Je sens que ces
+immensit&eacute;s ne sont rien, et qu&rsquo;enfin, s&rsquo;il y a
+quelque chose, ce quelque chose n&rsquo;est pas ce que nous
+voyons.&rsquo;&nbsp; That is it.&nbsp; All these immensities are
+not &lsquo;rien,&rsquo; but they are assuredly not what we take
+them to be.&nbsp; They are the veil of the Infinite, behind which
+we are not permitted to see.</p>
+<blockquote><p>It were the seeing Him, no flesh shall dare.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>The very greatness proves our impotence to grasp it, proves
+the futility of our speculations, and should help us best of all
+though outwardly so appalling, to stand calm while the snake of
+unbelief writhes beneath our feet.&nbsp; The unutterable
+insignificance of man and his little world connotes the infinity
+which leaves his possibilities as limitless as itself.</p>
+<p>Spectrology informs us that the chemical elements of matter
+are everywhere the same; and in a boundless universe where such
+unity is manifested there must be conditions similar to those
+which support life here.&nbsp; It is impossible to doubt, on
+these grounds alone, that life does exist elsewhere.&nbsp; Were
+we rashly to assume from scientific data that no form of animal
+life could obtain except under conditions similar to our own,
+would not reason rebel at such an inference, on the mere ground
+that to assume that there is no conscious being in the universe
+save man, is incomparably more unwarrantable, and in itself
+incredible?</p>
+<p>Admitting, then, the hypothesis of the universal distribution
+of life, has anyone the hardihood to believe that this is either
+the best or worst of worlds?&nbsp; Must we not suppose that life
+exists in every stage of progress, in every state of
+imperfection, and, conversely, of advancement?&nbsp; Have we
+still the audacity to believe with the ancient Israelites, or as
+the Church of Rome believed only three centuries ago, that the
+universe was made for us, and we its centre?&nbsp; Or must we not
+believe that&mdash;infinity given&mdash;the stages and degrees of
+life are infinite as their conditions?&nbsp; And where is this to
+stop?&nbsp; There is no halting place for imagination till we
+reach the <i>Anima Mundi</i>, the infinite and eternal Spirit
+from which all Being emanates.</p>
+<p>The materialist and the sceptic have forcible arguments on
+their side.&nbsp; They appeal to experience and to common sense,
+and ask pathetically, yet triumphantly, whether aspiration,
+however fervid, is a pledge for its validity, &lsquo;or does
+being weary prove that he hath where to rest?&rsquo;&nbsp; They
+smile at the flights of poetry and imagination, and love to
+repeat:</p>
+<blockquote><p>Fools! that so often here<br />
+Happiness mocked our prayer,<br />
+I think might make us fear<br />
+A like event elsewhere;<br />
+Make us not fly to dreams, but moderate desire.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>But then, if the other view is true, the Elsewhere is not the
+Here, nor is there any conceivable likeness between the
+two.&nbsp; It is not mere repugnance to truths, or speculations
+rather, which we dread, that makes us shrink from a creed so
+shallow, so palpably inept, as atheism.&nbsp; There are many
+sides to our nature, and I see not that reason, doubtless our
+trustiest guide, has one syllable to utter against our loftiest
+hopes.&nbsp; Our higher instincts are just as much a part of us
+as any that we listen to; and reason, to the end, can never
+dogmatise with what it is not conversant.</p>
+<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2>
+<p><a name="footnote342"></a><a href="#citation342"
+class="footnote">[342]</a>&nbsp; Alluding to the statue of
+Fox.</p>
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRACKS OF A ROLLING STONE***</p>
+<pre>
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+Project Gutenberg's Etext of Tracks of a Rolling Stone, by Coke
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+
+
+
+
+Tracks of a Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke
+Scanned and proofed by David Price 
+ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
+Second proofing by Margaret Price 
+
+
+
+
+
+Tracks of a Rolling Stone
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.
+
+
+THE First Edition of this book was written, from beginning to 
+end, in the short space of five months, without the aid of 
+diary or notes, beyond those cited as such from a former 
+work.
+
+The Author, having no expectation that his reminiscences 
+would be received with the kind indulgence of which this 
+Second Edition is the proof, with diffidence ventured to tell 
+so many tales connected with his own unimportant life as he 
+has done.  Emboldened by the reception his 'Tracks' have met 
+with, he now adds a few stories which he trusts may further 
+amuse its readers.
+
+June 1905.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+WE know more of the early days of the Pyramids or of ancient 
+Babylon than we do of our own.  The Stone age, the dragons of 
+the prime, are not more remote from us than is our earliest 
+childhood.  It is not so long ago for any of us; and yet, our 
+memories of it are but veiled spectres wandering in the mazes 
+of some foregone existence.
+
+Are we really trailing clouds of glory from afar?  Or are our 
+'forgettings' of the outer Eden only?  Or, setting poetry 
+aside, are they perhaps the quickening germs of all past 
+heredity - an epitome of our race and its descent?  At any 
+rate THEN, if ever, our lives are such stuff as dreams are 
+made of.  There is no connected story of events, thoughts, 
+acts, or feelings.  We try in vain to re-collect; but the 
+secrets of the grave are not more inviolable, - for the 
+beginnings, like the endings, of life are lost in darkness.
+
+It is very difficult to affix a date to any relic of that dim 
+past.  We may have a distinct remembrance of some pleasure, 
+some pain, some fright, some accident, but the vivid does not 
+help us to chronicle with accuracy.  A year or two makes a 
+vast difference in our ability.  We can remember well enough 
+when we donned the 'CAUDA VIRILIS,' but not when we left off 
+petticoats.
+
+The first remembrance to which I can correctly tack a date is 
+the death of George IV.  I was between three and four years 
+old.  My recollection of the fact is perfectly distinct - 
+distinct by its association with other facts, then far more 
+weighty to me than the death of a king.
+
+I was watching with rapture, for the first time, the spinning 
+of a peg-top by one of the grooms in the stable yard, when 
+the coachman, who had just driven my mother home, announced 
+the historic news.  In a few minutes four or five servants - 
+maids and men - came running to the stables to learn 
+particulars, and the peg-top, to my sorrow, had to be 
+abandoned for gossip and flirtation.  We were a long way from 
+street criers - indeed, quite out of town.  My father's house 
+was in Kensington, a little further west than the present 
+museum.  It was completely surrounded by fields and hedges.  
+I mention the fact merely to show to what age definite memory 
+can be authentically assigned.  Doubtless we have much 
+earlier remembrances, though we must reckon these by days, or 
+by months at the outside.  The relativity of the reckoning 
+would seem to make Time indeed a 'Form of Thought.'
+
+Two or three reminiscences of my childhood have stuck to me; 
+some of them on account of their comicality.  I was taken to 
+a children's ball at St. James's Palace.  In my mind's eye I 
+have but one distinct vision of it.  I cannot see the crowd - 
+there was nothing to distinguish that from what I have so 
+often seen since; nor the court dresses, nor the soldiers 
+even, who always attract a child's attention in the streets; 
+but I see a raised dais on which were two thrones.  William 
+IV. sat on one, Queen Adelaide on the other.  I cannot say 
+whether we were marched past in turn, or how I came there.  
+But I remember the look of the king in his naval uniform.  I 
+remember his white kerseymere breeches, and pink silk 
+stockings, and buckled shoes.  He took me between his knees, 
+and asked, 'Well, what are you going to be, my little man?'
+
+'A sailor,' said I, with brazen simplicity.
+
+'Going to avenge the death of Nelson - eh?  Fond o' sugar-
+plums?'
+
+'Ye-es,' said I, taking a mental inventory of stars and 
+anchor buttons.
+
+Upon this, he fetched from the depths of his waistcoat pocket 
+a capacious gold box, and opened it with a tap, as though he 
+were about to offer me a pinch of snuff.  'There's for you,' 
+said he.
+
+I helped myself, unawed by the situation, and with my small 
+fist clutching the bonbons, was passed on to Queen Adelaide.  
+She gave me a kiss, for form's sake, I thought; and I 
+scuttled back to my mother.
+
+But here followed the shocking part of the ENFANT TERRIBLE'S 
+adventure.  Not quite sure of Her Majesty's identity - I had 
+never heard there was a Queen - I naively asked my mother, in 
+a very audible stage-whisper, 'Who is the old lady with - ?'  
+My mother dragged me off the instant she had made her 
+curtsey.  She had a quick sense of humour; and, judging from 
+her laughter, when she told her story to another lady in the 
+supper room, I fancied I had said or done something very 
+funny.  I was rather disconcerted at being seriously 
+admonished, and told I must never again comment upon the 
+breath of ladies who condescended to kiss, or to speak to, 
+me.
+
+While we lived at Kensington, Lord Anglesey used often to pay 
+my mother a visit.  She had told me the story of the battle 
+of Waterloo, in which my Uncle George - 6th Lord Albemarle - 
+had taken part; and related how Lord Anglesey had lost a leg 
+there, and how one of his legs was made of cork.  Lord 
+Anglesey was a great dandy.  The cut of the Paget hat was an 
+heirloom for the next generation or two, and the gallant 
+Marquis' boots and tightly-strapped trousers were patterns of 
+polish and precision.  The limp was perceptible; but of which 
+leg, was, in spite of careful investigation, beyond my 
+diagnosis.  His presence provoked my curiosity, till one fine 
+day it became too strong for resistance.  While he was busily 
+engaged in conversation with my mother, I, watching for the 
+chance, sidled up to his chair, and as soon as he looked 
+away, rammed my heel on to his toes.  They were his toes.  
+And considering the jump and the oath which instantly 
+responded to my test, I am persuaded they were abnormally 
+tender ones.  They might have been made of corns, certainly 
+not of cork.
+
+Another discovery I made about this period was, for me at 
+least, a 'record':  it happened at Quidenham - my grandfather 
+the 4th Lord Albemarle's place.
+
+Some excursion was afoot, which needed an early breakfast.  
+When this was half over, one married couple were missing.  My 
+grandfather called me to him (I was playing with another 
+small boy in one of the window bays).  'Go and tell Lady 
+Maria, with my love,' said he, 'that we shall start in half 
+an hour.  Stop, stop a minute.  Be sure you knock at the 
+door.'  I obeyed orders - I knocked at the door, but failed 
+to wait for an answer.  I entered without it.  And what did I 
+behold?  Lady Maria was still in bed; and by the side of Lady 
+M. was, very naturally, Lady M.'s husband, also in bed and 
+fast asleep.  At first I could hardly believe my senses.  It 
+was within the range of my experience that boys of my age 
+occasionally slept in the same bed.  But that a grown up man 
+should sleep in the same bed with his wife was quite beyond 
+my notion of the fitness of things.  I was so staggered, so 
+long in taking in this astounding novelty, that I could not 
+at first deliver my grandfathers message.  The moment I had 
+done so, I rushed back to the breakfast room, and in a loud 
+voice proclaimed to the company what I had seen.  My tale 
+produced all the effect I had anticipated, but mainly in the 
+shape of amusement.  One wag - my uncle Henry Keppel - asked 
+for details, gravely declaring he could hardly credit my 
+statement.  Every one, however, seemed convinced by the 
+circumstantial nature of my evidence when I positively 
+asserted that their heads were not even at opposite ends of 
+the bed, but side by side upon the same pillow.
+
+A still greater soldier than Lord Anglesey used to come to 
+Holkham every year, a great favourite of my father's; this 
+was Lord Lynedoch.  My earliest recollections of him owe 
+their vividness to three accidents - in the logical sense of 
+the term:  his silky milk-white locks, his Spanish servant 
+who wore earrings - and whom, by the way, I used to confound 
+with Courvoisier, often there at the same time with his 
+master Lord William Russell, for the murder of whom he was 
+hanged, as all the world knows - and his fox terrier Nettle, 
+which, as a special favour, I was allowed to feed with 
+Abernethy biscuits.
+
+He was at Longford, my present home, on a visit to my father 
+in 1835, when, one evening after dinner, the two old 
+gentlemen - no one else being present but myself - sitting in 
+armchairs over the fire, finishing their bottle of port, Lord 
+Lynedoch told the wonderful story of his adventures during 
+the siege of Mantua by the French, in 1796.  For brevity's 
+sake, it were better perhaps to give the outline in the words 
+of Alison.  'It was high time the Imperialists should advance 
+to the relief of this fortress, which was now reduced to the 
+last extremity from want of provisions.  At a council of war 
+held in the end of December, it was decided that it was 
+indispensable that instant intelligence should be sent to 
+Alvinzi of their desperate situation.  An English officer, 
+attached to the garrison, volunteered to perform the perilous 
+mission, which he executed with equal courage and success.  
+He set out, disguised as a peasant, from Mantua on December 
+29, at nightfall in the midst of a deep fall of snow, eluded 
+the vigilance of the French patrols, and, after surmounting a 
+thousand hardships and dangers, arrived at the headquarters 
+of Alvinzi, at Bassano, on January 4, the day after the 
+conferences at Vicenza were broken up.
+
+'Great destinies awaited this enterprising officer.  He was 
+Colonel Graham, afterwards victor at Barrosa, and the first 
+British general who planted the English standard on the soil 
+of France.'
+
+This bare skeleton of the event was endued 'with sense and 
+soul' by the narrator.  The 'hardships and dangers' thrilled 
+one's young nerves.  Their two salient features were ice 
+perils, and the no less imminent one of being captured and 
+shot as a spy.  The crossing of the rivers stands out 
+prominently in my recollection.  All the bridges were of 
+course guarded, and he had two at least within the enemy's 
+lines to get over - those of the Mincio and of the Adige.  
+Probably the lagunes surrounding the invested fortress would 
+be his worst difficulty.  The Adige he described as beset 
+with a two-fold risk - the avoidance of the bridges, which 
+courted suspicion, and the thin ice and only partially frozen 
+river, which had to be traversed in the dark.  The vigour, 
+the zest with which the wiry veteran 'shoulder'd his crutch 
+and show'd how fields were won' was not a thing to be 
+forgotten.
+
+Lord Lynedoch lived to a great age, and it was from his house 
+at Cardington, in Bedfordshire, that my brother Leicester 
+married his first wife, Miss Whitbread, in 1843.  That was 
+the last time I saw him.
+
+Perhaps the following is not out of place here, although it 
+is connected with more serious thoughts:
+
+Though neither my father nor my mother were more pious than 
+their neighbours, we children were brought up religiously.  
+From infancy we were taught to repeat night and morning the 
+Lord's Prayer, and invoke blessings on our parents.  It was 
+instilled into us by constant repetition that God did not 
+love naughty children - our naughtiness being for the most 
+part the original sin of disobedience, rooted in the love of 
+forbidden fruit in all its forms of allurement.  Moses 
+himself could not have believed more faithfully in the direct 
+and immediate intervention of an avenging God.  The pain in 
+one's stomach incident to unripe gooseberries, no less than 
+the consequent black dose, or the personal chastisement of a 
+responsible and apprehensive nurse, were but the just 
+visitations of an offended Deity.
+
+Whether my religious proclivities were more pronounced than 
+those of other children I cannot say, but certainly, as a 
+child, I was in the habit of appealing to Omnipotence to 
+gratify every ardent desire.
+
+There were peacocks in the pleasure grounds at Holkham, and I 
+had an aesthetic love for their gorgeous plumes.  As I hunted 
+under and amongst the shrubs, I secretly prayed that my 
+search might be rewarded.  Nor had I a doubt, when 
+successful, that my prayer had been granted by a beneficent 
+Providence.
+
+Let no one smile at this infantine credulity, for is it not 
+the basis of that religious trust which helps so many of us 
+to support the sorrows to which our stoicism is unequal?  Who 
+that might be tempted thoughtlessly to laugh at the child 
+does not sometimes sustain the hope of finding his 'plumes' 
+by appeals akin to those of his childhood?  Which of us could 
+not quote a hundred instances of such a soothing delusion - 
+if delusion it be?  I speak not of saints, but of sinners:  
+of the countless hosts who aspire to this world's happiness; 
+of the dying who would live, of the suffering who would die, 
+of the poor who would be rich, of the aggrieved who seek 
+vengeance, of the ugly who would be beautiful, of the old who 
+would appear young, of the guilty who would not be found out, 
+and of the lover who would possess.  Ah! the lover.  Here 
+possibility is a negligible element.  Consequences are of no 
+consequence.  Passion must be served.  When could a miracle 
+be more pertinent?
+
+It is just fifty years ago now; it was during the Indian 
+Mutiny.  A lady friend of mine did me the honour to make me 
+her confidant.  She paid the same compliment to many - most 
+of her friends; and the friends (as is their wont) confided 
+in one another.  Poor thing! her case was a sad one.  Whose 
+case is not?  She was, by her own account, in the forty-
+second year of her virginity; and it may be added, 
+parenthetically, an honest fourteen stone in weight.
+
+She was in love with a hero of Lucknow.  It cannot be said 
+that she knew him only by his well-earned fame.  She had seen 
+him, had even sat by him at dinner.  He was young, he was 
+handsome.  It was love at sight, accentuated by much 
+meditation - 'obsessions [peradventure] des images 
+genetiques.'  She told me (and her other confidants, of 
+course) that she prayed day and night that this distinguished 
+officer, this handsome officer, might return her passion.  
+And her letters to me (and to other confidants) invariably 
+ended with the entreaty that I (and her other, &c.) would 
+offer up a similar prayer on her behalf.  Alas! poor soul, 
+poor body!  I should say, the distinguished officer, together 
+with the invoked Providence, remained equally insensible to 
+her supplications.  The lady rests in peace.  The soldier, 
+though a veteran, still exults in war.
+
+But why do I cite this single instance?  Are there not 
+millions of such entreaties addressed to Heaven on this, and 
+on every day?  What difference is there, in spirit, between 
+them and the child's prayer for his feather?  Is there 
+anything great or small in the eye of Omniscience?  Or is it 
+not our thinking only that makes it so?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+SOON after I was seven years old, I went to what was then, 
+and is still, one of the most favoured of preparatory schools 
+- Temple Grove - at East Sheen, then kept by Dr. Pinkney.  I 
+was taken thither from Holkham by a great friend of my 
+father's, General Sir Ronald Ferguson, whose statue now 
+adorns one of the niches in the facade of Wellington College.  
+The school contained about 120 boys; but I cannot name any 
+one of the lot who afterwards achieved distinction.  There 
+were three Macaulays there, nephews of the historian - Aulay, 
+Kenneth, and Hector.  But I have lost sight of all.
+
+Temple Grove was a typical private school of that period.  
+The type is familiar to everyone in its photograph as 
+Dotheboys Hall.  The progress of the last century in many 
+directions is great indeed; but in few is it greater than in 
+the comfort and the cleanliness of our modern schools.  The 
+luxury enjoyed by the present boy is a constant source of 
+astonishment to us grandfathers.  We were half starved, we 
+were exceedingly dirty, we were systematically bullied, and 
+we were flogged and caned as though the master's pleasure was 
+in inverse ratio to ours.  The inscription on the threshold 
+should have been 'Cave canem.'
+
+We began our day as at Dotheboys Hall with two large 
+spoonfuls of sulphur and treacle.  After an hour's lessons we 
+breakfasted on one bowl of milk - 'Skyblue' we called it - 
+and one hunch of buttered bread, unbuttered at discretion.  
+Our dinner began with pudding - generally rice - to save the 
+butcher's bill.  Then mutton - which was quite capable of 
+taking care of itself.  Our only other meal was a basin of 
+'Skyblue' and bread as before.
+
+As to cleanliness, I never had a bath, never bathed (at the 
+school) during the two years I was there.  On Saturday 
+nights, before bed, our feet were washed by the housemaids, 
+in tubs round which half a dozen of us sat at a time.  Woe to 
+the last comers! for the water was never changed.  How we 
+survived the food, or rather the want of it, is a marvel.  
+Fortunately for me, I used to discover, when I got into bed, 
+a thickly buttered crust under my pillow.  I believed, I 
+never quite made sure, (for the act was not admissible), that 
+my good fairy was a fiery-haired lassie (we called her 
+'Carrots,' though I had my doubts as to this being her 
+Christian name) who hailed from Norfolk.  I see her now:  her 
+jolly, round, shining face, her extensive mouth, her ample 
+person.  I recall, with more pleasure than I then endured, 
+the cordial hugs she surreptitiously bestowed upon me when we 
+met by accident in the passages.  Kind, affectionate 
+'Carrots'!  Thy heart was as bounteous as thy bosom.  May the 
+tenderness of both have met with their earthly deserts; and 
+mayest thou have shared to the full the pleasures thou wast 
+ever ready to impart!
+
+There were no railways in those times.  It amuses me to see 
+people nowadays travelling by coach, for pleasure.  How many 
+lives must have been shortened by long winter journeys in 
+those horrible coaches.  The inside passengers were hardly 
+better off than the outside.  The corpulent and heavy 
+occupied the scanty space allotted to the weak and small - 
+crushed them, slept on them, snored over them, and 
+monopolised the straw which was supposed to keep their feet 
+warm.
+
+A pachydermatous old lady would insist upon an open window.  
+A wheezy consumptive invalid would insist on a closed one.  
+Everybody's legs were in their own, and in every other 
+body's, way.  So that when the distance was great and time 
+precious, people avoided coaching, and remained where they 
+were.
+
+For this reason, if a short holiday was given - less than a 
+week say - Norfolk was too far off; and I was not permitted 
+to spend it at Holkham.  I generally went to Charles Fox's at 
+Addison Road, or to Holland House.  Lord Holland was a great 
+friend of my father's; but, if Creevey is to be trusted - 
+which, as a rule, my recollection of him would permit me to 
+doubt, though perhaps not in this instance - Lord Holland did 
+not go to Holkham because of my father's dislike to Lady 
+Holland.
+
+I speak here of my introduction to Holland House, for 
+although Lady Holland was then in the zenith of her 
+ascendency, (it was she who was the Cabinet Minister, not her 
+too amiable husband,) although Holland House was then the 
+resort of all the potentates of Whig statecraft, and Whig 
+literature, and Whig wit, in the persons of Lord Grey, 
+Brougham, Jeffrey, Macaulay, Sydney Smith, and others, it was 
+not till eight or ten years later that I knew, when I met 
+them there, who and what her Ladyship's brilliant satellites 
+were.  I shall not return to Lady Holland, so I will say a 
+parting word of her forthwith.
+
+The woman who corresponded with Buonaparte, and consoled the 
+prisoner of St. Helena with black currant jam, was no 
+ordinary personage.  Most people, I fancy, were afraid of 
+her.  Her stature, her voice, her beard, were obtrusive marks 
+of her masculine attributes.  It is questionable whether her 
+amity or her enmity was most to be dreaded.  She liked those 
+best whom she could most easily tyrannise over.  Those in the 
+other category might possibly keep aloof.  For my part I 
+feared her patronage.  I remember when I was about seventeen 
+- a self-conscious hobbledehoy - Mr. Ellice took me to one of 
+her large receptions.  She received her guests from a sort of 
+elevated dais.  When I came up - very shy - to make my 
+salute, she asked me how old I was.  'Seventeen,' was the 
+answer.  'That means next birthday,' she grunted.  'Come and 
+give me a kiss, my dear.'  I, a man! - a man whose voice was 
+(sometimes) as gruff as hers! - a man who was beginning to 
+shave for a moustache!  Oh! the indignity of it!
+
+But it was not Lady Holland, or her court, that concerned me 
+in my school days, it was Holland Park, or the extensive 
+grounds about Charles Fox's house (there were no other houses 
+at Addison Road then), that I loved to roam in.  It was the 
+birds'-nesting; it was the golden carp I used to fish for on 
+the sly with a pin; the shying at the swans, the hunt for 
+cockchafers, the freedom of mischief generally, and the 
+excellent food - which I was so much in need of - that made 
+the holiday delightful.
+
+Some years later, when dining at Holland House, I happened to 
+sit near the hostess.  It was a large dinner party.  Lord 
+Holland, in his bath-chair (he nearly always had the gout), 
+sat at the far end of the table a long way off.  But my lady 
+kept an eye on him, for she had caught him drinking 
+champagne.  She beckoned to the groom of the chambers, who 
+stood behind her; and in a gruff and angry voice shouted:  
+'Go to my Lord.  Take away his wine, and tell him if he 
+drinks any more you have my orders to wheel him into the next 
+room.'  If this was a joke it was certainly a practical one.  
+And yet affection was behind it.  There's a tender place in 
+every heart.
+
+Like all despots, she was subject to fits of cowardice - 
+especially, it was said, with regard to a future state, which 
+she professed to disbelieve in.  Mr. Ellice told me that 
+once, in some country house, while a fearful storm was 
+raging, and the claps of thunder made the windows rattle, 
+Lady Holland was so terrified that she changed dresses with 
+her maid, and hid herself in the cellar.  Whether the story 
+be a calumny or not, it is at least characteristic.
+
+After all, it was mainly due to her that Holland House became 
+the focus of all that was brilliant in Europe.  In the 
+memoirs of her father - Sydney Smith - Mrs. Austin writes:  
+'The world has rarely seen, and will rarely, if ever, see 
+again all that was to be found within the walls of Holland 
+House.  Genius and merit, in whatever rank of life, became a 
+passport there; and all that was choicest and rarest in 
+Europe seemed attracted to that spot as their natural soil.'
+
+Did we learn much at Temple Grove?  Let others answer for 
+themselves.  Acquaintance with the classics was the staple of 
+a liberal education in those times.  Temple Grove was the 
+ATRIUM to Eton, and gerund-grinding was its RAISON D'ETRE.  
+Before I was nine years old I daresay I could repeat - 
+parrot, that is - several hundreds of lines of the AEneid.  
+This, and some elementary arithmetic, geography, and drawing, 
+which last I took to kindly, were dearly paid for by many 
+tears, and by temporarily impaired health.  It was due to my 
+pallid cheeks that I was removed.  It was due to the 
+following six months - summer months - of a happy life that 
+my health was completely restored.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+MR. EDWARD ELLICE, who constantly figures in the memoirs of 
+the last century as 'Bear Ellice' (an outrageous misnomer, by 
+the way), and who later on married my mother, was the chief 
+controller of my youthful destiny.  His first wife was a 
+sister of the Lord Grey of Reform Bill fame, in whose 
+Government he filled the office of War Minister.  In many 
+respects Mr. Ellice was a notable man.  He possessed shrewd 
+intelligence, much force of character, and an autocratic 
+spirit - to which he owed his sobriquet.  His kindness of 
+heart, his powers of conversation, with striking personality 
+and ample wealth, combined to make him popular.  His house in 
+Arlington Street, and his shooting lodge at Glen Quoich, were 
+famous for the number of eminent men who were his frequent 
+guests.
+
+Mr. Ellice's position as a minister, and his habitual 
+residence in Paris, had brought him in touch with the leading 
+statesmen of France.  He was intimately acquainted with Louis 
+Philippe, with Talleyrand, with Guizot, with Thiers, and most 
+of the French men and French women whose names were bruited 
+in the early part of the nineteenth century.
+
+When I was taken from Temple Grove, I was placed, by the 
+advice and arrangement of Mr. Ellice, under the charge of a 
+French family, which had fallen into decay - through the 
+change of dynasty.  The Marquis de Coubrier had been Master 
+of the Horse to Charles X.  His widow - an old lady between 
+seventy and eighty - with three maiden daughters, all 
+advanced in years, lived upon the remnant of their estates in 
+a small village called Larue, close to Bourg-la-Reine, which, 
+it may be remembered, was occupied by the Prussians during 
+the siege of Paris.  There was a chateau, the former seat of 
+the family; and, adjoining it, in the same grounds, a pretty 
+and commodious cottage.  The first was let as a country house 
+to some wealthy Parisians; the cottage was occupied by the 
+Marquise and her three daughters.
+
+The personal appearances of each of these four elderly 
+ladies, their distinct idiosyncrasies, and their former high 
+position as members of a now moribund nobility, left a 
+lasting impression on my memory.  One might expect, perhaps, 
+from such a prelude, to find in the old Marquise traces of 
+stately demeanour, or a regretted superiority.  Nothing of 
+the kind.  She herself was a short, square-built woman, with 
+large head and strong features, framed in a mob cap, with a 
+broad frill which flopped over her tortoise-shell spectacles.  
+She wore a black bombazine gown, and list slippers.  When in 
+the garden, where she was always busy in the summer-time, she 
+put on wooden sabots over her slippers.
+
+Despite this homely exterior, she herself was a 'lady' in 
+every sense of the word.  Her manner was dignified and 
+courteous to everyone.  To her daughters and to myself she 
+was gentle and affectionate.  Her voice was sympathetic, 
+almost musical.  I never saw her temper ruffled.  I never 
+heard her allude to her antecedents.
+
+The daughters were as unlike their mother as they were to one 
+another.  Adele, the eldest, was very stout, with a profusion 
+of grey ringlets.  She spoke English fluently.  I gathered, 
+from her mysterious nods and tosses of the head, (to be sure, 
+her head wagged a little of its own accord, the ringlets too, 
+like lambs' tails,) that she had had an AFFAIRE DE COEUR with 
+an Englishman, and that the perfidious islander had removed 
+from the Continent with her misplaced affections.  She was a 
+trifle bitter, I thought - for I applied her insinuations to 
+myself - against Englishmen generally.  But, though cynical 
+in theory, she was perfectly amiable in practice.  She 
+superintended the menage and spent the rest of her life in 
+making paper flowers.  I should hardly have known they were 
+flowers, never having seen their prototypes in nature.  She 
+assured me, however, that they were beautiful copies - 
+undoubtedly she believed them to be so.
+
+Henriette, the youngest, had been the beauty of the family.  
+This I had to take her own word for, since here again there 
+was much room for imagination and faith.  She was a confirmed 
+invalid, and, poor thing! showed every symptom of it.  She 
+rarely left her room except for meals; and although it was 
+summer when I was there, she never moved without her 
+chauffrette.  She seemed to live for the sake of patent 
+medicines and her chauffrette; she was always swallowing the 
+one, and feeding the other.
+
+The middle daughter was Aglae.  Mademoiselle Aglae took 
+charge - I may say, possession - of me.  She was tall, gaunt, 
+and bony, with a sharp aquiline nose, pomegranate cheek-
+bones, and large saffron teeth ever much in evidence.  Her 
+speciality, as I soon discovered, was sentiment.  Like her 
+sisters, she had had her 'affaires' in the plural.  A Greek 
+prince, so far as I could make out, was the last of her 
+adorers.  But I sometimes got into scrapes by mixing up the 
+Greek prince with a Polish count, and then confounding either 
+one or both with a Hungarian pianoforte player.
+
+Without formulating my deductions, I came instinctively to 
+the conclusion that 'En fait d'amour,' as Figaro puts it, 
+'trop n'est pas meme assez.'  From Miss Aglae's point of view 
+a lover was a lover.  As to the superiority of one over 
+another, this was - nay, is - purely subjective.  'We receive 
+but what we give.'  And, from what Mademoiselle then told me, 
+I cannot but infer that she had given without stint.
+
+Be that as it may, nothing could be more kind than her care 
+of me.  She tucked me up at night, and used to send for me in 
+the morning before she rose, to partake of her CAFE-AU-LAIT.  
+In return for her indulgences, I would 'make eyes' such as I 
+had seen Auguste, the young man-servant, cast at Rose the 
+cook.  I would present her with little scraps which I copied 
+in roundhand from a volume of French poems.  Once I drew, and 
+coloured with red ink, two hearts pierced with an arrow, a 
+copious pool of red ink beneath, emblematic of both the 
+quality and quantity of my passion.  This work of art 
+produced so deep a sigh that I abstained thenceforth from 
+repeating such sanguinary endearments.
+
+Not the least interesting part of the family was the 
+servants.  I say 'family,' for a French family, unlike an 
+English one, includes its domestics; wherein our neighbours 
+have the advantage over us.  In the British establishment the 
+household is but too often thought of and treated as 
+furniture.  I was as fond of Rose the cook and maid-of-all-
+work as I was of anyone in the house.  She showed me how to 
+peel potatoes, break eggs, and make POT-AU-FEU.  She made me 
+little delicacies in pastry - swans with split almonds for 
+wings, comic little pigs with cloves in their eyes - for all 
+of which my affection and my liver duly acknowledged receipt 
+in full.  She taught me more provincial pronunciation and bad 
+grammar than ever I could unlearn.  She was very intelligent, 
+and radiant with good humour.  One peculiarity especially 
+took my fancy - the yellow bandana in which she enveloped her 
+head.  I was always wondering whether she was born without 
+hair - there was none to be seen.  This puzzled me so that 
+one day I consulted Auguste, who was my chief companion.  He 
+was quite indignant, and declared with warmth that Mam'selle 
+Rose had the most beautiful hair he had ever beheld.  He 
+flushed even with enthusiasm.  If it hadn't been for his 
+manner, I should have asked him how he knew.  But somehow I 
+felt the subject was a delicate one.
+
+How incessantly they worked, Auguste and Rose, and how 
+cheerfully they worked!  One could hear her singing, and him 
+whistling, at it all day.  Yet they seemed to have abundant 
+leisure to exchange a deal of pleasantry and harmless banter.  
+Auguste was a Swiss, and a bigoted Protestant, and never lost 
+an opportunity of holding forth on the superiority of the 
+reformed religion.  If he thought the family were out of 
+hearing, he would grow very animated and declamatory.  But 
+Rose, who also had hopes, though perhaps faint, for my 
+salvation, would suddenly rush into the room with the carpet 
+broom, and drive him out, with threats of Miss Aglae, and the 
+broomstick.
+
+The gardener, Monsieur Benoit, was also a great favourite of 
+mine, and I of his, for I was never tired of listening to his 
+wonderful adventures.  He had, so he informed me, been a 
+soldier in the GRANDE ARMEE.  He enthralled me with hair-
+raising accounts of his exploits:  how, when leading a 
+storming party - he was always the leader - one dark and 
+terrible night, the vivid and incessant lightning betrayed 
+them by the flashing of their bayonets; and how in a few 
+minutes they were mowed down by MITRAILLE.  He had led 
+forlorn hopes, and performed deeds of astounding prowess.  
+How many Life-guardsmen he had annihilated:  'Ah! ben oui!' 
+he was afraid to say.  He had been personally noticed by 'Le 
+p'tit caporal.'  There were many, whose deeds were not to 
+compare with his, who had been made princes and mareschals.  
+PARBLEU! but his luck was bad.  'Pas d'chance! pas d'chance!  
+Mo'sieu Henri.'  As Monsieur Benoit recorded his feats, and 
+witnessed my unbounded admiration, his voice would grow more 
+and more sepulchral, till it dropped to a hoarse and scarcely 
+audible whisper.
+
+I was a little bewildered one day when, having breathlessly 
+repeated some of his heroic deeds to the Marquise, she with a 
+quiet smile assured me that 'ce petit bon-homme,' as she 
+called him, had for a short time been a drummer in the 
+National Guard, but had never been a soldier.  This was a 
+blow to me; moreover, I was troubled by the composure of the 
+Marquise.  Monsieur Benoit had actually been telling me what 
+was not true.  Was it, then, possible that grown-up people 
+acquired the privilege of fibbing with impunity?  I wondered 
+whether this right would eventually become mine!
+
+At Bourg-la-Reine there is, or was, a large school.  Three 
+days in the week I had to join one of the classes there; on 
+the other three one of the ushers came up to Larue for a 
+couple of hours of private tuition.  At the school itself I 
+did not learn very much, except that boys everywhere are 
+pretty similar, especially in the badness of their manners.  
+I also learnt that shrugging the shoulders while exhibiting 
+the palms of the hands, and smiting oneself vehemently on the 
+chest, are indispensable elements of the French idiom.  The 
+indiscriminate use of the word 'parfaitement' I also noticed 
+to be essential when at a loss for either language or ideas, 
+and have made valuable use of it ever since.
+
+Monsieur Vincent, my tutor, was a most good-natured and 
+patient teacher.  I incline, however, to think that I taught 
+him more English than he taught me French.  He certainly 
+worked hard at his lessons.  He read English aloud to me, and 
+made me correct his pronunciation.  The mental agony this 
+caused me makes me hot to think of still.  I had never heard 
+his kind of Franco-English before.  To my ignorance it was 
+the most comic language in the world.  There were some words 
+which, in spite of my endeavours, he persisted in pronouncing 
+in his own way.  I have since got quite used to the most of 
+them, and their only effect is to remind me of my own rash 
+ventures in a foreign tongue.  There are one or two words 
+which recall the pain it gave me to control my emotions.  He 
+would produce his penknife, for instance; and, contemplating 
+it with a despondent air, would declare it to be the most 
+difficult word in the English language to pronounce.  'Ow you 
+say 'im?'  'Penknife,' I explained.  He would bid me write it 
+down; then having spelt it, he would, with much effort, and a 
+sound like sneezing - oh! the pain I endured! - slowly repeat 
+'Penkneef.'  I gave it up at last; and he was gratified with 
+his success.  As my explosion generally occurred about five 
+minutes afterwards, Monsieur Vincent failed to connect cause 
+and effect.  When we parted he gave me a neatly bound copy of 
+La Bruyere as a prize - for his own proficiency, I presume.  
+Many a pleasant half-hour have I since spent with the witty 
+classic.
+
+Except the controversial harangues of the zealot Auguste, my 
+religious teaching was neglected on week days.  On Sundays, 
+if fine, I was taken to a Protestant church in Paris; not 
+infrequently to the Embassy.  I did not enjoy this at all.  I 
+could have done very well without it.  I liked the drive, 
+which took about an hour each way.  Occasionally Aglae and I 
+went in the Bourg-la-Reine coucou.  But Mr. Ellice had 
+arranged that a carriage should be hired for me.  Probably he 
+was not unmindful of the convenience of the old ladies.  They 
+were not.  The carriage was always filled.  Even Mademoiselle 
+Henriette managed to go sometimes - aided by a little patent 
+medicine, and when it was too hot for the chauffrette.  If 
+she was unable, a friend in the neighbourhood was offered a 
+seat; and I had to sit bodkin, or on Mademoiselle Aglae's 
+lap.  I hated the 'friend'; for, secretly, I felt the 
+carriage was mine, though of course I never had the bad taste 
+to say so.
+
+They went to Mass, and I was allowed to go with them, in 
+addition to my church, as a special favour.  I liked the 
+music, the display of candles, the smell of the incense, and 
+the dresses of the priests; and wondered whether when 
+undressed - unrobed, that is - they were funny old gentlemen 
+like Monsieur le Cure at Larue, and took such a prodigious 
+quantity of snuff up their noses and under their finger-
+nails.  The ladies did a good deal of shopping, and we 
+finished off at the Flower Market by the Madeleine, where I, 
+through the agency of Mademoiselle Aglae, bought plants for 
+'Maman.'  This gave 'Maman' UN PLAISIR INOUI, and me too; for 
+the dear old lady always presented me with a stick of barley-
+sugar in return.  As I never possessed a sou (Miss Aglae kept 
+account of all my expenses and disbursements) I was strongly 
+in favour of buying plants for 'Maman.'
+
+I loved the garden.  It was such a beautiful garden; so 
+beautifully kept by Monsieur Benoit, and withered old Mere 
+Michele, who did the weeding and helped Rose once a week in 
+the laundry.  There were such pretty trellises, covered with 
+roses and clematis; such masses of bright flowers and sweet 
+mignonette; such tidy gravel walks and clipped box edges; 
+such floods of sunshine; so many butterflies and lizards 
+basking in it; the birds singing with excess of joy.  I used 
+to fancy they sang in gratitude to the dear old Marquise, who 
+never forgot them in the winter snows.
+
+What a quaint but charming picture she was amidst this 
+quietude, - she who had lived through the Reign of Terror:  
+her mob cap, garden apron, and big gloves; a trowel in one 
+hand, a watering-pot in the other; potting and unpotting; so 
+busy, seemingly so happy.  She loved to have me with her, and 
+let me do the watering.  What a pleasure that was!  The 
+scores of little jets from the perforated rose, the gushing 
+sound, the freshness and the sparkle, the gratitude of the 
+plants, to say nothing of one's own wet legs.  'Maman' did 
+not approve of my watering my own legs.  But if the watering-
+pot was too big for me how could I help it?  By and by a 
+small one painted red within and green outside was discovered 
+in Bourg-la-Reine, and I was happy ever afterwards.
+
+Much of my time was spent with the children and nurses of the 
+family which occupied the chateau.  The costume of the head 
+nurse with her high Normandy cap (would that I had a female 
+pen for details) invariably suggested to me that she would 
+make any English showman's fortune, if he could only exhibit 
+her stuffed.  At the cottage they called her 'La Grosse 
+Normande.'  Not knowing her by any other name, I always so 
+addressed her.  She was not very quick-witted, but I think 
+she a little resented my familiarity, and retaliated by 
+comparisons between her compatriots and mine, always in a 
+tone derogatory to the latter.  She informed me as a matter 
+of history, patent to all nurses, that the English race were 
+notoriously bow-legged; and that this was due to the vicious 
+practice of allowing children to use their legs before the 
+gristle had become bone.  Being of an inquiring turn of mind, 
+I listened with awe to this physiological revelation, and 
+with chastened and depressed spirits made a mental note of 
+our national calamity.  Privately I fancied that the mottled 
+and spasmodic legs of Achille - whom she carried in her arms 
+- or at least so much of the infant Pelides' legs as were not 
+enveloped in a napkin, gave every promise of refuting her 
+generalisation.
+
+One of my amusements was to set brick traps for small birds.  
+At Holkham in the winter time, by baiting with a few grains 
+of corn, I and my brothers used, in this way, to capture 
+robins, hedge-sparrows, and tits.  Not far from the chateau 
+was a large osier bed, resorted to by flocks of the common 
+sparrow.  Here I set my traps.  But it being summer time, and 
+(as I complained when twitted with want of success) French 
+birds being too stupid to know what the traps were for, I 
+never caught a feather.  Now this osier bed was a favourite 
+game covert for the sportsmen of the chateau; and what was my 
+delight and astonishment when one morning I found a dead hare 
+with its head under the fallen brick of my trap.  How 
+triumphantly I dragged it home, and showed it to Rose and 
+Auguste, - who more than the rest had 'mocked themselves' of 
+my traps, and then carried it in my arms, all bloody as it 
+was (I could not make out how both its hind legs were broken) 
+into the salon to show it to the old Marquise.  Mademoiselle 
+Henriette, who was there, gave a little scream (for effect) 
+at sight of the blood.  Everybody was pleased.  But when I 
+overheard Rose's SOTTO VOCE to the Marquise:  'Comme ils sont 
+gentils!' I indignantly retorted that 'it wasn't kind of the 
+hare at all:  it was entirely due to my skill in setting the 
+traps.  They would catch anything that put its head into 
+them.  Just you try.'
+
+How severe are the shocks of early disillusionment!  It was 
+not until long after the hare was skinned, roasted, served as 
+CIVET and as PUREE that I discovered the truth.  I was not at 
+all grateful to the gentlemen of the chateau whose dupe I had 
+been; was even wrath with my dear old 'Maman' for treating 
+them with extra courtesy for their kindness to her PETIT 
+CHERI.
+
+That was a happy summer.  After it was ended, and it was time 
+for me to return to England and begin my education for the 
+Navy I never again set eyes on Larue, or that charming nest 
+of old ladies who had done their utmost to spoil me.  Many 
+and many a time have I been to Paris, but nothing could tempt 
+me to visit Larue.  So it is with me.  Often have I 
+questioned the truth of the NESSUN MAGGIOR DOLORE than the 
+memory of happy times in the midst of sorry ones.  The 
+thought of happiness, it would seem, should surely make us 
+happier, and yet - not of happiness for ever lost.  And are 
+not the deepening shades of our declining sun deepened by 
+youth's contrast?  Whatever our sweetest songs may tell us 
+of, we are the sadder for our sweetest memories.  The grass 
+can never be as green again to eyes grown watery.  The lambs 
+that skipped when we did were long since served as mutton.  
+And if
+
+
+Die Fusse tragen mich so muthig nicht empor
+Die hohen Stufen die ich kindisch ubersprang,
+
+
+why, I will take the fact for granted.  My youth is fled, my 
+friends are dead.  The daisies and the snows whiten by turns 
+the grave of him or her - the dearest I have loved.  Shall I 
+make a pilgrimage to that sepulchre?  Drop futile tears upon 
+it?  Will they warm what is no more?  I for one have not the 
+heart for that.  Happily life has something else for us to 
+do.  Happily 'tis best to do it.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+THE passage from the romantic to the realistic, from the 
+chimerical to the actual, from the child's poetic 
+interpretation of life to life's practical version of itself, 
+is too gradual to be noticed while the process is going on.  
+It is only in the retrospect we see the change.  There is 
+still, for yet another stage, the same and even greater 
+receptivity, - delight in new experiences, in gratified 
+curiosity, in sensuous enjoyment, in the exercise of growing 
+faculties.  But the belief in the impossible and the bliss of 
+ignorance are seen, when looking back, to have assumed almost 
+abruptly a cruder state of maturer dulness.  Between the 
+public schoolboy and the child there is an essential 
+difference; and this in a boy's case is largely due, I fancy, 
+to the diminished influence of woman, and the increased 
+influence of men.
+
+With me, certainly, the rough usage I was ere long to undergo 
+materially modified my view of things in general.  In 1838, 
+when I was eleven years old, my uncle, Henry Keppel, the 
+future Admiral of the Fleet, but then a dashing young 
+commander, took me (as he mentions in his Autobiography) to 
+the Naval Academy at Gosport.  The very afternoon of my 
+admittance - as an illustration of the above remarks - I had 
+three fights with three different boys.  After that the 'new 
+boy' was left to his own devices, - QUA 'new boy,' that is; 
+as an ordinary small boy, I had my share.  I have spoken of 
+the starvation at Dr. Pinkney's; here it was the terrible 
+bullying that left its impress on me - literally its mark, 
+for I still bear the scar upon my hand.
+
+Most boys, I presume, know the toy called a whirligig, made 
+by stringing a button on a loop of thread, the twisting and 
+untwisting of which by approaching and separating the hands 
+causes the button to revolve.  Upon this design, and by 
+substituting a jagged disk of slate for the button, the 
+senior 'Bull-dogs' (we were all called 'Burney's bull-dogs') 
+constructed a very simple instrument of torture.  One big boy 
+spun the whirligig, while another held the small boy's palm 
+till the sharp slate-edge gashed it.  The wound was severe.  
+For many years a long white cicatrice recorded the fact in my 
+right hand.  The ordeal was, I fancy, unique - a prerogative 
+of the naval 'bull-dogs.'  The other torture was, in those 
+days, not unknown to public schools.  It was to hold a boy's 
+back and breech as near to a hot fire as his clothes would 
+bear without burning.  I have an indistinct recollection of a 
+boy at one of our largest public schools being thus exposed, 
+and left tied to chairs while his companions were at church.  
+When church was over the boy was found - roasted.
+
+By the advice of a chum I submitted to the scorching without 
+a howl, and thus obtained immunity, and admission to the 
+roasting guild for the future.  What, however, served me 
+best, in all matters of this kind, was that as soon as I was 
+twelve years old my name was entered on the books of the 
+'Britannia,' then flag-ship in Portsmouth Harbour, and though 
+I remained at the Academy, I always wore the uniform of a 
+volunteer of the first class, now called a naval cadet.  The 
+uniform was respected, and the wearer shared the benefit.
+
+During the winter of 1839-40 I joined H.M.S. 'Blonde,' a 46-
+gun frigate commanded by Captain Bouchier, afterwards Sir 
+Thomas, whose portrait is now in the National Portrait 
+Gallery.  He had seen much service, and had been flag-captain 
+to Nelson's Hardy.  In the middle of that winter we sailed 
+for China, where troubles had arisen anent the opium trade.
+
+What would the cadet of the present day think of the 
+treatment we small boys had to put up with sixty or seventy 
+years ago?  Promotion depended almost entirely on interest.  
+The service was entered at twelve or thirteen.  After two 
+years at sea, if the boy passed his examination, he mounted 
+the white patch, and became a midshipman.  At the end of four 
+years more he had to pass a double examination, - one for 
+seamanship before a board of captains, and another for 
+navigation at the Naval College.  He then became a master's 
+mate, and had to serve for three years as such before he was 
+eligible for promotion to a lieutenancy.  Unless an officer 
+had family interest he often stuck there, and as often had to 
+serve under one more favoured, who was not born when he 
+himself was getting stale.
+
+Naturally enough these old hands were jealous of the 
+fortunate youngsters, and, unless exceptionally amiable, 
+would show them little mercy.
+
+We left Portsmouth in December 1839.  It was bitter winter.  
+The day we sailed, such was the severity of the gale and 
+snowstorm, that we had to put back and anchor at St. Helens 
+in the Isle of Wight.  The next night we were at sea.  It 
+happened to be my middle watch.  I had to turn out of my 
+hammock at twelve to walk the deck till four in the morning.  
+Walk! I could not stand.  Blinded with snow, drenched by the 
+seas, frozen with cold, home sick and sea sick beyond 
+description, my opinion of the Royal Navy - as a profession - 
+was, in the course of these four hours, seriously subverted.  
+Long before the watch ended.  I was reeling about more asleep 
+than awake; every now and then brought to my senses by 
+breaking my shins against the carronade slides; or, if I sat 
+down upon one of them to rest, by a playful whack with a 
+rope's end from one of the crusty old mates aforesaid, who 
+perhaps anticipated in my poor little personality the 
+arrogance of a possible commanding officer.  Oh! those cruel 
+night watches!  But the hard training must have been a useful 
+tonic too.  One got accustomed to it by degrees; and hence, 
+indifferent to exposure, to bad food, to kicks and cuffs, to 
+calls of duty, to subordination, and to all that constitutes 
+discipline.
+
+Luckily for me, the midshipman of my watch, Jack Johnson, was 
+a trump, and a smart officer to boot.  He was six years older 
+than I, and, though thoroughly good-natured, was formidable 
+enough from his strength and determination to have his will 
+respected.  He became my patron and protector.  Rightly, or 
+wrongly I am afraid, he always took my part, made excuses for 
+me to the officer of our watch if I were caught napping under 
+the half-deck, or otherwise neglecting my duty.  Sometimes he 
+would even take the blame for this upon himself, and give me 
+a 'wigging' in private, which was my severest punishment.  He 
+taught me the ropes, and explained the elements of 
+seamanship.  If it was very cold at night he would make me 
+wear his own comforter, and, in short, took care of me in 
+every possible way.  Poor Jack! I never had a better friend; 
+and I loved him then, God knows.  He was one of those whose 
+advancement depended on himself.  I doubt whether he would 
+ever have been promoted but for an accident which I shall 
+speak of presently.
+
+When we got into warm latitudes we were taught not only to 
+knot and splice, but to take in and set the mizzen royal.  
+There were four of us boys, and in all weathers at last we 
+were practised aloft until we were as active and as smart as 
+any of the ship's lads, even in dirty weather or in sudden 
+squalls.
+
+We had a capital naval instructor for lessons in navigation, 
+and the quartermaster of the watch taught us how to handle 
+the wheel and con.
+
+These quartermasters - there was one to each of the three 
+watches - were picked men who had been captains of tops or 
+boatswains' mates.  They were much older than any of the 
+crew.  Our three in the 'Blonde' had all seen service in the 
+French and Spanish wars.  One, a tall, handsome old fellow, 
+had been a smuggler; and many a fight with, or narrow escape 
+from, the coast-guard he had to tell of.  The other two had 
+been badly wounded.  Old Jimmy Bartlett of my watch had a 
+hole in his chest half an inch deep from a boarding pike.  He 
+had also lost a finger, and a bullet had passed through his 
+cheek.  One of his fights was in the 'Amethyst' frigate when, 
+under Sir Michael Seymour, she captured the 'Niemen' in 1809.  
+Often in the calm tropical nights, when the helm could take 
+care of itself almost, he would spin me a yarn about hot 
+actions, cutting-outs, press-gangings, and perils which he 
+had gone through, or - what was all one to me - had invented.
+
+From England to China round the Cape was a long voyage before 
+there was a steamer in the Navy.  It is impossible to 
+describe the charm of one's first acquaintance with tropical 
+vegetation after the tedious monotony unbroken by any event 
+but an occasional flogging or a man overboard.  The islands 
+seemed afloat in an atmosphere of blue; their jungles rooting 
+in the water's edge.  The strange birds in the daytime, the 
+flocks of parrots, the din of every kind of life, the flying 
+foxes at night, the fragrant and spicy odours, captivate the 
+senses.  How delicious, too, the fresh fruits brought off by 
+the Malays in their scooped-out logs, one's first taste of 
+bananas, juicy shaddocks, mangoes, and custard apples - after 
+months of salt junk, disgusting salt pork, and biscuit all 
+dust and weevils.  The water is so crystal-clear it seems as 
+though one could lay one's hands on strange coloured fish and 
+coral beds at any depth.  This, indeed, was 'kissing the lips 
+of unexpected change.'  It was a first kiss moreover.  The 
+tropics now have ceased to remind me even of this spell of 
+novelty and wonder.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+
+THE first time I 'smelt powder' was at Amoy.  The 'Blonde' 
+carried out Lord Palmerston's letter to the Chinese 
+Government.  Never was there a more iniquitous war than 
+England then provoked with China to force upon her the opium 
+trade with India in spite of the harm which the Chinese 
+authorities believed that opium did to their people.
+
+Even Macaulay advocated this shameful imposition.  China had 
+to submit, and pay into the bargain four and a half millions 
+sterling to prove themselves in the wrong.  Part of this went 
+as prize money.  My share of it - the DOUCEUR for a middy's 
+participation in the crime - was exactly 100L.
+
+To return to Amoy.  When off the mouth of the Canton river we 
+had taken on board an interpreter named Thom.  What our 
+instructions were I know not; I can only tell what happened.  
+Our entry into Amoy harbour caused an immediate commotion on 
+land.  As soon as we dropped anchor, about half a mile from 
+the shore, a number of troops, with eight or ten field-
+pieces, took up their position on the beach, evidently 
+resolved to prevent our landing.  We hoisted a flag of truce, 
+at the same time cleared the decks for action, and dropped a 
+kedge astern so as to moor the ship broadside to the forts 
+and invested shore.  The officer of my watch, the late Sir 
+Frederick Nicholson, together with the interpreter, were 
+ordered to land and communicate with the chief mandarin.  To 
+carry out this as inoffensively as possible, Nicholson took 
+the jolly-boat, manned by four lads only.  As it was my 
+watch, I had charge of the boat.  A napkin or towel served 
+for a flag of truce.  But long before we reached the shore, 
+several mandarins came down to the water's edge waving their 
+swords and shouting angrily to warn us off.  Mr. Thom, who 
+understood what they said, was frightened out of his wits, 
+assuring us we should all be sawed in half if we attempted to 
+land.  Sir Frederick was not the man to disobey orders even 
+on such a penalty; he, however, took the precaution - a very 
+wise one as it happened - to reverse the boat, and back her 
+in stern foremost.
+
+No sooner did the keel grate on the shingle than a score of 
+soldiers rushed down to seize us.  Before they could do so we 
+had shoved off.  The shore was very steep.  In a moment we 
+were in deep water, and our lads pulling for dear life.  Then 
+came a storm of bullets from matchlocks and jingals and the 
+bigger guns, fortunately just too high to hit us.  One bullet 
+only struck the back-board, but did no harm.  What, however, 
+seemed a greater danger was the fire from the ship.  Ere we 
+were halfway back broadside after broadside was fired over 
+our heads into the poor devils massed along the beach.  This 
+was kept up until not a living Chinaman was to be seen.
+
+I may mention here a curious instance of cowardice.  One of 
+our men, a ship's painter, soon after the firing began and 
+was returned by the fort's guns, which in truth were quite 
+harmless, jumped overboard and drowned himself.  I have seen 
+men's courage tried under fire, and in many other ways since; 
+yet I have never known but one case similar to this, when a 
+friend of my own, a rich and prosperous man, shot himself to 
+avoid death!  So that there are men like 'Monsieur 
+Grenouille, qui se cachait dans l'eau pour eviter la pluie.'  
+Often have I seen timid and nervous men, who were thought to 
+be cowards, get so excited in action that their timidity has 
+turned to rashness.  In truth 'on est souvent ferme par 
+faiblesse, et audacieux par timidite.'
+
+Partly for this reason, and partly because I look upon it as 
+a remnant of our predatory antecedents and of animal 
+pugnacity, I have no extravagant admiration for mere 
+combativeness or physical courage.  Honoured and rewarded as 
+one of the noblest of manly attributes, it is one of the 
+commonest of qualities, - one which there is not a mammal, a 
+bird, a fish, or an insect even, that does not share with us.  
+Such is the esteem in which it is held, such the ignominy 
+which punishes the want of it, that the most cautious and the 
+most timid by nature will rather face the uncertain risks of 
+a fight than the certain infamy of imputed cowardice.
+
+Is it likely that courage should be rare under such 
+circumstances, especially amongst professional fighters, who 
+in England at least have chosen their trade?  That there are 
+poltroons, and plenty of them, amongst our soldiers and 
+sailors, I do not dispute.  But with the fear of shame on one 
+hand, the hope of reward on the other, the merest dastard 
+will fight like a wild beast, when his blood is up.  The 
+extraordinary merit of his conduct is not so obvious to the 
+peaceful thinker.  I speak not of such heroism as that of the 
+Japanese, - their deeds will henceforth be bracketed with 
+those of Leonidas and his three hundred, who died for a like 
+cause.  With the Japanese, as it was with the Spartans, every 
+man is a patriot; nor is the proportionate force of their 
+barbaric invaders altogether dissimilar.
+
+Is then the Victoria Cross an error?  To say so would be an 
+outrage in this age of militarism.  And what would all the 
+Queens of Beauty think, from Sir Wilfred Ivanhoe's days to 
+ours, if mighty warriors ceased to poke each other in the 
+ribs, and send one another's souls untimely to the 'viewless 
+shades,' for the sake of their 'doux yeux?'  Ah! who knows 
+how many a mutilation, how many a life, has been the price of 
+that requital?  Ye gentle creatures who swoon at the sight of 
+blood, is it not the hero who lets most of it that finds most 
+favour in your eyes?  Possibly it may be to the heroes of 
+moral courage that some distant age will award its choicest 
+decorations.  As it is, the courage that seeks the rewards of 
+Fame seems to me about on a par with the virtue that invests 
+in Heaven.
+
+Though an anachronism as regards this stage of my career, I 
+cannot resist a little episode which pleasantly illustrates 
+moral courage, or chivalry at least, combined with physical 
+bravery.
+
+In December, 1899, I was a passenger on board a Norddeutscher 
+Lloyd on my way to Ceylon.  The steamer was crowded with 
+Germans; there were comparatively few English.  Things had 
+been going very badly with us in the Transvaal, and the 
+telegrams both at Port Said and at Suez supplemented the 
+previous ill-news.  At the latter place we heard of the 
+catastrophe at Magersfontein, of poor Wauchope's death, and 
+of the disaster to the Highland Light Infantry.  The moment 
+it became known the Germans threw their caps into the air, 
+and yelled as if it were they who had defeated us.
+
+Amongst the steerage passengers was a Major - in the English 
+army - returning from leave to rejoin his regiment at 
+Colombo.  If one might judge by his choice of a second-class 
+fare, and by his much worn apparel, he was what one would 
+call a professional soldier.  He was a tall, powerfully-
+built, handsome man, with a weather-beaten determined face, 
+and keen eye.  I was so taken with his looks that I often 
+went to the fore part of the ship on the chance of getting a 
+word with him.  But he was either shy or proud, certainly 
+reserved; and always addressed me as 'Sir,' which was not 
+encouraging.
+
+That same evening, after dinner in the steerage cabin, a 
+German got up and, beginning with some offensive allusions to 
+the British army, proposed the health of General Cronje and 
+the heroic Boers.  This was received with deafening 'Hochs.'  
+To cap the enthusiasm up jumped another German, and proposed 
+'ungluck - bad luck to all Englanders and to their Queen.'  
+This also was cordially toasted.  When the ceremony was ended 
+and silence restored, my reserved friend calmly rose, tapped 
+the table with the handle of his knife (another steerage 
+passenger - an Australian - told me what happened), took his 
+watch from his pocket, and slowly said:  'It is just six 
+minutes to eight.  If the person who proposed the last toast 
+has not made a satisfactory apology to me before the hand of 
+my watch points to the hour, I will thrash him till he does.  
+I am an officer in the English army, and always keep my 
+word.'  A small band of Australians was in the cabin.  One 
+and all of them applauded this laconic speech.  It was 
+probably due in part to these that the offender did not wait 
+till the six minutes had expired.
+
+Next day I congratulated my reserved friend.  He was reticent 
+as usual.  All I could get out of him was, 'I never allow a 
+lady to be insulted in my presence, sir.'  It was his Queen, 
+not his cloth, that had roused the virility in this quiet 
+man.
+
+Let us turn to another aspect of the deeds of war.  About 
+daylight on the morning following our bombardment, it being 
+my morning watch, I was ordered to take the surgeon and 
+assistant surgeon ashore.  There were many corpses, but no 
+living or wounded to be seen.  One object only dwells 
+visually in my memory.
+
+At least a quarter of a mile from the dead soldiers, a stray 
+shell had killed a grey-bearded old man and a young woman.  
+They were side by side.  The woman was still in her teens and 
+pretty.  She lay upon her back.  Blood was oozing from her 
+side.  A swarm of flies were buzzing in and out of her open 
+mouth.  Her little deformed feet, cased in the high-heeled 
+and embroidered tiny shoes, extended far beyond her 
+petticoats.  It was these feet that interested the men of 
+science.  They are now, I believe, in a jar of spirits at 
+Haslar hospital.  At least, my friend the assistant surgeon 
+told me, as we returned to the ship, that that was their 
+ultimate destination.  The mutilated body, as I turned from 
+it with sickening horror, left a picture on my youthful mind 
+not easily to be effaced.
+
+After this we joined the rest of the squadron:  the 
+'Melville' (a three-decker, Sir W. Parker's flagship), the 
+'Blenheim,' the 'Druid,' the 'Calliope,' and several 18-gun 
+brigs.  We took Hong Kong, Chusan, Ningpo, Canton, and 
+returned to take Amoy.  One or two incidents only in the 
+several engagements seem worth recording.
+
+We have all of us supped full with horrors this last year or 
+so, and I have no thought of adding to the surfeit.  But 
+sometimes common accidents appear exceptional, if they befall 
+ourselves, or those with whom we are intimate.  If the 
+sufferer has any special identity, we speculate on his 
+peculiar way of bearing his misfortune; and are thus led on 
+to place ourselves in his position, and imagine ourselves the 
+sufferers.
+
+Major Daniel, the senior marine officer of the 'Blonde,' was 
+a reserved and taciturn man.  He was quiet and gentlemanlike, 
+always very neat in his dress; rather severe, still kind to 
+his men.  His aloofness was in no wise due to lack of ideas, 
+nor, I should say, to pride - unless, perhaps, it were the 
+pride which some men feel in suppressing all emotion by 
+habitual restraint of manner.  Whether his SANGFROID was 
+constitutional, or that nobler kind of courage which feels 
+and masters timidity and the sense of danger, none could 
+tell.  Certain it is he was as calm and self-possessed in 
+action as in repose.  He was so courteous one fancied he 
+would almost have apologised to his foe before he 
+remorselessly ran him through.
+
+On our second visit to Amoy, a year or more after the first, 
+we met with a warmer reception.  The place was much more 
+strongly fortified, and the ship was several-times hulled.  
+We were at very close quarters, as it is necessary to pass 
+under high ground as the harbour is entered.  Those who had 
+the option, excepting our gallant old captain, naturally kept 
+under shelter of the bulwarks and hammock nettings.  Not so 
+Major Daniel.  He stood in the open gangway watching the 
+effect of the shells, as though he were looking at a game of 
+billiards.  While thus occupied a round shot struck him full 
+in the face, and simply left him headless.
+
+Another accident, partly due to an ignorance of dynamics, 
+happened at the taking of Canton.  The whole of the naval 
+brigade was commanded by Sir Thomas Bouchier.  Our men were 
+lying under the ridge of a hill protected from the guns on 
+the city walls.  Fully exposed to the fire, which was pretty 
+hot, 'old Tommy' as we called him, paced to and fro with 
+contemptuous indifference, stopping occasionally to spy the 
+enemy with his long ship's telescope.  A number of 
+bluejackets, in reserve, were stationed about half a mile 
+further off at the bottom of the protecting hill.  They were 
+completely screened from the fire by some buildings of the 
+suburbs abutting upon the slope.  Those in front were 
+watching the cannon-balls which had struck the crest and were 
+rolling as it were by mere force of gravitation down the 
+hillside.  Some jokes were made about football, when suddenly 
+a smart and popular young officer - Fox, first lieutenant of 
+one of the brigs - jumped out at one of these spent balls, 
+which looked as though it might have been picked up by the 
+hands, and gave it a kick.  It took his foot off just above 
+the ankle.  There was no surgeon at hand, and he was bleeding 
+to death before one could be found.  Sir Thomas had come down 
+the hill, and seeing the wounded officer on the ground with a 
+group around him, said in passing, 'Well, Fox, this is a bad 
+job, but it will make up the pair of epaulets, which is 
+something.'
+
+'Yes sir,' said the dying man feebly, 'but without a pair of 
+legs.'  Half an hour later he was dead.
+
+I have spoken lightly of courage, as if, by implication, I 
+myself possessed it.  Let me make a confession.  From my soul 
+I pity the man who is or has been such a miserable coward as 
+I was in my infancy, and up to this youthful period of my 
+life.  No fear of bullets or bayonets could ever equal mine.  
+It was the fear of ghosts.  As a child, I think that at times 
+when shut up for punishment, in a dark cellar for instance, I 
+must have nearly gone out of my mind with this appalling 
+terror.
+
+Once when we were lying just below Whampo, the captain took 
+nearly every officer and nearly the whole ship's crew on a 
+punitive expedition up the Canton river.  They were away 
+about a week.  I was left behind, dangerously ill with fever 
+and ague.  In his absence, Sir Thomas had had me put into his 
+cabin, where I lay quite alone day and night, seeing hardly 
+anyone save the surgeon and the captain's steward, who was 
+himself a shadow, pretty nigh.  Never shall I forget my 
+mental sufferings at night.  In vain may one attempt to 
+describe what one then goes through; only the victims know 
+what that is.  My ghost - the ghost of the Whampo Reach - the 
+ghost of those sultry and miasmal nights, had no shape, no 
+vaporous form; it was nothing but a presence, a vague 
+amorphous dread.  It may have floated with the swollen and 
+putrid corpses which hourly came bobbing down the stream, but 
+it never appeared; for there was nothing to appear.  Still it 
+might appear.  I expected every instant through the night to 
+see it in some inconceivable form.  I expected it to touch 
+me.  It neither stalked upon the deck, nor hovered in the 
+dark, nor moved, nor rested anywhere.  And yet it was there 
+about me, - where, I knew not.  On every side I was 
+threatened.  I feared it most behind the head of my cot, 
+because I could not see it if it were so.
+
+This, it will be said, is the description of a nightmare.  
+Exactly so.  My agony of fright was a nightmare; but a 
+nightmare when every sense was strained with wakefulness, 
+when all the powers of imagination were concentrated to 
+paralyse my shattered reason.
+
+The experience here spoken of is so common in some form or 
+other that we may well pause to consider it.  What is the 
+meaning of this fear of ghosts? - how do we come by it?  It 
+may be thought that its cradle is our own, that we are 
+purposely frightened in early childhood to keep us calm and 
+quiet.  But I do not believe that nurses' stories would 
+excite dread of the unknown if the unknown were not already 
+known.  The susceptibility to this particular terror is there 
+before the terror is created.  A little reflection will 
+convince us that we must look far deeper for the solution of 
+a mystery inseparable from another, which is of the last 
+importance to all of us.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+THE belief in phantoms, ghosts, or spirits, has frequently 
+been discussed in connection with speculations on the origin 
+of religion.  According to Mr. Spencer ('Principles of 
+Sociology') 'the first traceable conception of a supernatural 
+being is the conception of a ghost.'  Even Fetichism is 'an 
+extension of the ghost theory.'  The soul of the Fetich 'in 
+common with supernatural agents at large, is originally the 
+double of a dead man.'  How do we get this notion - 'the 
+double of a dead man?'  Through dreams.  In the Old Testament 
+we are told:  'God came to' Abimelech, Laban, Solomon, and 
+others 'in a dream'; also that 'the angel of the Lord' 
+appeared to Joseph 'in a dream.'  That is to say, these men 
+dreamed that God came to them.  So the savage, who dreams of 
+his dead acquaintance, believes he has been visited by the 
+dead man's spirit.  This belief in ghosts is confirmed, Mr. 
+Spencer argues, by other phenomena.  The savage who faints 
+from the effect of a wound sustained in fight looks just like 
+the dead man beside him.  The spirit of the wounded man 
+returns after a long or short period of absence:  why should 
+the spirit of the other not do likewise?  If reanimation 
+follows comatose states, why should it not follow death?  
+Insensibility is but an affair of time.  All the modes of 
+preserving the dead, in the remotest ages, evince the belief 
+in casual separation of body and soul, and of their possible 
+reunion.
+
+Take another theory.  Comte tells us there is a primary 
+tendency in man 'to transfer the sense of his own nature, in 
+the radical explanation of all phenomena whatever.'  Writing 
+in the same key, Schopenhauer calls man 'a metaphysical 
+animal.'  He is speaking of the need man feels of a theory, 
+in regard to the riddle of existence, which forces itself 
+upon his notice; 'a need arising from the consciousness that 
+behind the physical in the world, there is a metaphysical 
+something permanent as the foundation of constant change.'  
+Though not here alluding to the ghost theory, this bears 
+indirectly on the conception, as I shall proceed to show.
+
+We need not entangle ourselves in the vexed question of 
+innate ideas, nor inquire whether the principle of casuality 
+is, as Kant supposed, like space and time, a form of 
+intuition given A PRIORI.  That every change has a cause must 
+necessarily (without being thus formulated) be one of the 
+initial beliefs of conscious beings far lower in the scale 
+than man, whether derived solely from experience or 
+otherwise.  The reed that shakes is obviously shaken by the 
+wind.  But the riddle of the wind also forces itself into 
+notice; and man explains this by transferring to the wind 
+'the sense of his own nature.'  Thunderstorms, volcanic 
+disturbances, ocean waves, running streams, the motions of 
+the heavenly bodies, had to be accounted for as involving 
+change.  And the natural - the primitive - explanation was by 
+reference to life, analogous, if not similar, to our own.  
+Here then, it seems to me, we have the true origin of the 
+belief in ghosts.
+
+Take an illustration which supports this view.  While sitting 
+in my garden the other day a puff of wind blew a lady's 
+parasol across the lawn.  It rolled away close to a dog lying 
+quietly in the sun.  The dog looked at it for a moment, but 
+seeing nothing to account for its movements, barked 
+nervously, put its tail between its legs, and ran away, 
+turning occasionally to watch and again bark, with every sign 
+of fear.
+
+This was animism.  The dog must have accounted for the 
+eccentric behaviour of the parasol by endowing it with an 
+uncanny spirit.  The horse that shies at inanimate objects by 
+the roadside, and will sometimes dash itself against a tree 
+or a wall, is actuated by a similar superstition.  Is there 
+any essential difference between this belief of the dog or 
+horse and the belief of primitive man?  I maintain that an 
+intuitive animistic tendency (which Mr. Spencer repudiates), 
+and not dreams, lies at the root of all spiritualism.  Would 
+Mr. Spencer have had us believe that the dog's fear of the 
+rolling parasol was a logical deduction from its canine 
+dreams?  This would scarcely elucidate the problem.  The dog 
+and the horse share apparently Schopenhauer's metaphysical 
+propensity with man.
+
+The familiar aphorism of Statius:  PRIMUS IN ORBE DEOS FECIT 
+TIMOR, points to the relation of animism first to the belief 
+in ghosts, thence to Polytheism, and ultimately to 
+Monotheism.  I must apologise to those of the transcendental 
+school who, like Max Muller for instance (Introduction to the 
+'Science of Religion'), hold that we have 'a primitive 
+intuition of God'; which, after all, the professor derives, 
+like many others, from the 'yearning for something that 
+neither sense nor reason can supply'; and from the assumption 
+that 'there was in the heart of man from the very first a 
+feeling of incompleteness, of weakness, of dependency, &c.'  
+All this, I take it, is due to the aspirations of a much 
+later creature than the 'Pithecanthropus erectus,' to whom we 
+here refer.
+
+Probably spirits and ghosts were originally of an evil kind.  
+Sir John Lubbock ('The Origin of Civilisation') says:  'The 
+baying of the dog to the moon is as much an act of worship as 
+some ceremonies which have been so described by travellers.'  
+I think he would admit that fear is the origin of the 
+worship.  In his essay on 'Superstition,' Hume writes:  
+'Weakness, fear, melancholy, together with ignorance, are the 
+true sources of superstition.'  Also 'in such a state of 
+mind, infinite unknown evils are dreaded from unknown 
+agents.'
+
+Man's impotence to resist the forces of nature, and their 
+terrible ability to injure him, would inspire a sense of 
+terror; which in turn would give rise to the twofold notion 
+of omnipotence and malignity.  The savage of the present day 
+lives in perpetual fear of evil spirits; and the 
+superstitious dread, which I and most others have suffered, 
+is inherited from our savage ancestry.  How much further back 
+we must seek it may be left to the sage philosophers of the 
+future.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+THE next winter we lay for a couple of months off Chinhai, 
+which we had stormed, blockading the mouth of the Ningpo 
+river.  Here, I regret to think, I committed an act which has 
+often haunted my conscience as a crime; although I had 
+frequently promised the captain of a gun a glass of grog to 
+let me have a shot, and was mightily pleased if death and 
+destruction rewarded my aim.
+
+Off Chinhai, lorchers and fast sailing junks laden with 
+merchandise would try to run the blockade before daylight.  
+And it sometimes happened that we youngsters had a long chase 
+in a cutter to overhaul them.  This meant getting back to a 
+nine or ten o'clock breakfast at the end of the morning's 
+watch; equivalent to five or six hours' duty on an empty 
+stomach.
+
+One cold morning I had a hard job to stop a small junk.  The 
+men were sweating at their oars like galley slaves, and 
+muttering curses at the apparent futility of their labour.  I 
+had fired a couple of shots from a 'brown Bess' - the musket 
+of the day - through the fugitive's sails; and fearing 
+punishment if I let her escape, I next aimed at the boat 
+herself.  Down came the mainsail in a crack.  When I boarded 
+our capture, I found I had put a bullet through the thigh of 
+the man at the tiller.  Boys are not much troubled with 
+scruples about bloodguiltiness, and not unfrequently are very 
+cruel, for cruelty as a rule (with exceptions) mostly 
+proceeds from thoughtlessness.  But when I realised what I 
+had done, and heard the wretched man groan, I was seized with 
+remorse for what, at a more hardened stage, I should have 
+excused on the score of duty.
+
+It was during this blockade that the accident, which I have 
+already alluded to, befell my dear protector, Jack Johnson.
+
+One night, during his and my middle watch, the forecastle 
+sentries hailed a large sampan, like a Thames barge, drifting 
+down stream and threatening to foul us.  Sir Frederick 
+Nicholson, the officer of the watch, ordered Johnson to take 
+the cutter and tow her clear.
+
+I begged leave to go with him.  Sir Frederick refused, for he 
+at once suspected mischief.  The sampan was reached and 
+diverted just before she swung athwart our bows.  But 
+scarcely was this achieved, when an explosion took place.  My 
+friend was knocked over, and one or two of the men fell back 
+into the cutter.  This is what had happened:  Johnson finding 
+no one in the sampan, cautiously raised one of the deck 
+hatches with a boat-hook before he left the cutter.  The mine 
+(for such it proved) was so arranged that examination of this 
+kind drew a lighted match on to the magazine, which instantly 
+exploded.
+
+Poor Jack! what was my horror when we got him on board!  
+Every trace of his handsome features was gone.  He was alive, 
+and that seemed to be all.  In a few minutes his head and 
+face swelled so that all was a round black charred ball.  One 
+could hardly see where the eyes were, buried beneath the 
+powder-ingrained and incrusted flesh.
+
+For weeks, at night, I used to sit on a chest near his 
+hammock, listening for his slightest movement, too happy if 
+he called me for something I could get him.  In time he 
+recovered, and was invalided home, and I lost my dear 
+companion and protector.  A couple of years afterwards I had 
+the happiness to dine with him on board another ship in 
+Portsmouth, no longer in the midshipman's berth, but in the 
+wardroom.
+
+Twice during this war, the 'Blonde' was caught in a typhoon.  
+The first time was in waters now famous, but then unknown, 
+the Gulf of Liau-tung, in full sight of China's great wall.  
+We were twenty-four hours battened down, and under storm 
+staysails.  The 'Blenheim,' with Captain Elliott our 
+plenipotentiary on board, was with us, and the one 
+circumstance left in my memory is the sight of a line-of-
+battle ship rolling and pitching so that one caught sight of 
+the whole of her keel from stem to stern as if she had been a 
+fishing smack.  We had been wintering in the Yellow Sea, and 
+at the time I speak of were on a foraging expedition round 
+the Liau-tung peninsula.  Those who have followed the events 
+of the Japanese war will have noticed on the map, not far 
+north of Ta-lien-wan in the Korean Bay, three groups of 
+islands.  So little was the geography of these parts then 
+known, that they had no place on our charts.  On this very 
+occasion, one group was named after Captain Elliott, one was 
+called the Bouchier Islands, and the other the Blonde 
+Islands.  The first surveying of the two latter groups, and 
+the placing of them upon the map, was done by our naval 
+instructor, and he always took me with him as his assistant.
+
+Our second typhoon was while we were at anchor in Hong Kong 
+harbour.  Those who have knowledge only of the gales, however 
+violent, of our latitudes, have no conception of what wind-
+force can mount to.  To be the toy of it is enough to fill 
+the stoutest heart with awe.  The harbour was full of 
+transports, merchant ships, opium clippers, besides four or 
+five men-of-war, and a steamer belonging to the East India 
+Company - the first steamship I had ever seen.
+
+The coming of a typhoon is well known to the natives at least 
+twenty-four hours beforehand, and every preparation is made 
+for it.  Boats are dragged far up the beach; buildings even 
+are fortified for resistance.  Every ship had laid out its 
+anchors, lowered its yards, and housed its topmasts.  We had 
+both bowers down, with cables paid out to extreme length.  
+The danger was either in drifting on shore or, what was more 
+imminent, collision.  When once the tornado struck us there 
+was nothing more to be done; no men could have worked on 
+deck.  The seas broke by tons over all; boats beached as 
+described were lifted from the ground, and hurled, in some 
+instances, over the houses.  The air was darkened by the 
+spray.
+
+But terrible as was the raging of wind and water, far more 
+awful was the vain struggle for life of the human beings who 
+succumbed to it.  In a short time almost all the ships except 
+the men-of-war, which were better provided with anchors, 
+began to drift from their moorings.  Then wreck followed 
+wreck.  I do not think the 'Blonde' moved; but from first to 
+last we were threatened with the additional weight and strain 
+of a drifting vessel.  Had we been so hampered our anchorage 
+must have given way.  As a single example of the force of a 
+typhoon, the 'Phlegethon' with three anchors down, and 
+engines working at full speed, was blown past us out of the 
+harbour.
+
+One tragic incident I witnessed, which happened within a few 
+fathoms of the 'Blonde.'  An opium clipper had drifted 
+athwart the bow of a large merchantman, which in turn was 
+almost foul of us.  In less than five minutes the clipper 
+sank.  One man alone reappeared on the surface.  He was so 
+close, that from where I was holding on and crouching under 
+the lee of the mainmast I could see the expression of his 
+face.  He was a splendidly built man, and his strength and 
+activity must have been prodigious.  He clung to the cable of 
+the merchantman, which he had managed to clasp.  As the 
+vessel reared between the seas he gained a few feet before he 
+was again submerged.  At last he reached the hawse-hole.  Had 
+he hoped, in spite of his knowledge, to find it large enough 
+to admit his body?  He must have known the truth; and yet he 
+struggled on.  Did he hope that, when thus within arms' 
+length of men in safety, some pitying hand would be stretched 
+out to rescue him, - a rope's end perhaps flung out to haul 
+him inboard?  Vain desperate hope!  He looked upwards:  an 
+imploring look.  Would Heaven be more compassionate than man?  
+A mountain of sea towered above his head; and when again the 
+bow was visible, the man was gone for ever.
+
+Before taking leave of my seafaring days, I must say one word 
+about corporal punishment.  Sir Thomas Bouchier was a good 
+sailor, a gallant officer, and a kind-hearted man; but he was 
+one of the old school.  Discipline was his watchword, and he 
+endeavoured to maintain it by severity.  I dare say that, on 
+an average, there was a man flogged as often as once a month 
+during the first two years the 'Blonde' was in commission.  A 
+flogging on board a man-of-war with a 'cat,' the nine tails 
+of which were knotted, and the lashes of which were slowly 
+delivered, up to the four dozen, at the full swing of the 
+arm, and at the extremity of lash and handle, was very severe 
+punishment.  Each knot brought blood, and the shock of the 
+blow knocked the breath out of a man with an involuntary 
+'Ugh!' however stoically he bore the pain.
+
+I have seen many a bad man flogged for unpardonable conduct, 
+and many a good man for a glass of grog too much.  My firm 
+conviction is that the bad man was very little the better; 
+the good man very much the worse.  The good man felt the 
+disgrace, and was branded for life.  His self-esteem was 
+permanently maimed, and he rarely held up his head or did his 
+best again.  Besides which, - and this is true of all 
+punishment - any sense of injustice destroys respect for the 
+punisher.  Still I am no sentimentalist; I have a contempt 
+for, and even a dread of, sentimentalism.  For boy 
+housebreakers, and for ruffians who commit criminal assaults, 
+the rod or the lash is the only treatment.
+
+A comic piece of insubordination on my part recurs to me in 
+connection with flogging.  About the year 1840 or 1841, a 
+midshipman on the Pacific station was flogged.  I think the 
+ship was the 'Peak.'  The event created some sensation, and 
+was brought before Parliament.  Two frigates were sent out to 
+furnish a quorum of post-captains to try the responsible 
+commander.  The verdict of the court-martial was a severe 
+reprimand.  This was, of course, nuts to every midshipman in 
+the service.
+
+Shortly after it became known I got into a scrape for 
+laughing at, and disobeying the orders of, our first-
+lieutenant, - the head of the executive on board a frigate.  
+As a matter of fact, the orders were ridiculous, for the said 
+officer was tipsy.  Nevertheless, I was reported, and had up 
+before the captain.  'Old Tommy' was, or affected to be, very 
+angry.  I am afraid I was very 'cheeky.'  Whereupon Sir 
+Thomas did lose his temper, and threatened to send for the 
+boatswain to tie me up and give me a dozen, - not on the 
+back, but where the back leaves off.  Undismayed by the 
+threat, and mindful of the episode of the 'Peak' (?) I looked 
+the old gentleman in the face, and shrilly piped out, 'It's 
+as much as your commission is worth, sir.'  In spite of his 
+previous wrath, he was so taken aback by my impudence that he 
+burst out laughing, and, to hide it, kicked me out of the 
+cabin.
+
+After another severe attack of fever, and during a long 
+convalescence, I was laid up at Macao, where I enjoyed the 
+hospitality of Messrs. Dent and of Messrs. Jardine and 
+Matheson.  Thence I was invalided home, and took my passage 
+to Bombay in one of the big East India tea-ships.  As I was 
+being carried up the side in the arms of one of the boatmen, 
+I overheard another exclaim:  'Poor little beggar.  He'll 
+never see land again!'
+
+The only other passenger was Colonel Frederick Cotton, of the 
+Madras Engineers, one of a distinguished family.  He, too, 
+had been through the China campaign, and had also broken 
+down.  We touched at Manila, Batavia, Singapore, and several 
+other ports in the Malay Archipelago, to take in cargo.  
+While that was going on, Cotton, the captain, and I made 
+excursions inland.  Altogether I had a most pleasant time of 
+it till we reached Bombay.
+
+My health was now re-established; and after a couple of weeks 
+at Bombay, where I lived in a merchant's house, Cotton took 
+me to Poonah and Ahmadnagar; in both of which places I stayed 
+with his friends, and messed with the regiments.  Here a copy 
+of the 'Times' was put into my hands; and I saw a notice of 
+the death of my father.
+
+After a fortnight's quarantine at La Valetta, where two young 
+Englishmen - one an Oxford man - shared the same rooms in the 
+fort with me, we three returned to England; and (I suppose 
+few living people can say the same) travelled from Naples to 
+Calais before there was a single railway on the Continent.
+
+At the end of two months' leave in England I was appointed to 
+the 'Caledonia,' flagship at Plymouth.  Sir Thomas Bouchier 
+had written to the Admiral, Sir Edward Codrington, of 
+Navarino fame (whose daughter Sir Thomas afterwards married), 
+giving me 'a character.'  Sir Edward sent for me, and was 
+most kind.  He told me I was to go to the Pacific in the 
+first ship that left for South America, which would probably 
+be in a week or two; and he gave me a letter to his friend, 
+Admiral Thomas, who commanded on that station.
+
+About this time, and for a year or two later, the relations 
+between England and America were severely strained by what 
+was called 'the Oregon question.'  The dispute was concerning 
+the right of ownership of the mouth of the Columbia river, 
+and of Vancouver's Island.  The President as well as the 
+American people took the matter up very warmly; and much 
+discretion was needed to avert the outbreak of hostilities.
+
+In Sir Edward's letter, which he read out and gave to me 
+open, he requested Admiral Thomas to put me into any ship 
+'that was likely to see service'; and quoted a word or two 
+from my dear old captain Sir Thomas, which would probably 
+have given me a lift.
+
+The prospect before me was brilliant.  What could be more 
+delectable than the chance of a war?  My fancy pictured all 
+sorts of opportunities, turned to the best account, - my 
+seniors disposed of, and myself, with a pair of epaulets, 
+commanding the smartest brig in the service.
+
+Alack-a-day! what a climb down from such high flights my life 
+has been.  The ship in which I was to have sailed to the west 
+was suddenly countermanded to the east.  She was to leave for 
+China the following week, and I was already appointed to her, 
+not even as a 'super.'
+
+My courage and my ambition were wrecked at a blow.  The 
+notion of returning for another three years to China, where 
+all was now peaceful and stale to me, the excitement of the 
+war at an end, every port reminding me of my old comrades, 
+visions of renewed fevers and horrible food, - were more than 
+I could stand.
+
+I instantly made up my mind to leave the Navy.  It was a 
+wilful, and perhaps a too hasty, impulse.  But I am impulsive 
+by nature; and now that my father was dead, I fancied myself 
+to a certain extent my own master.  I knew moreover, by my 
+father's will, that I should not be dependent upon a 
+profession.  Knowledge of such a fact has been the ruin of 
+many a better man than I.  I have no virtuous superstitions 
+in favour of poverty - quite the reverse - but I am convinced 
+that the rich man, who has never had to earn his position or 
+his living, is more to be pitied and less respected than the 
+poor man whose comforts certainly, if not his bread, have 
+depended on his own exertions.
+
+My mother had a strong will of her own, and I could not guess 
+what line she might take.  I also apprehended the opposition 
+of my guardians.  On the whole, I opined a woman's heart 
+would be the most suitable for an appeal AD MISERICORDIAM.  
+So I pulled out the agony stop, and worked the pedals of 
+despair with all the anguish at my command.
+
+'It was easy enough for her to REVEL IN LUXURY and consign me 
+to a life worse than a CONVICT'S.  But how would SHE like to 
+live on SALT JUNK, to keep NIGHT WATCHES, to have to cut up 
+her blankets for PONCHOS (I knew she had never heard the 
+word, and that it would tell accordingly), to save her from 
+being FROZEN TO DEATH?  How would SHE like to be mast-headed 
+when a ship was rolling gunwale under?  As to the wishes of 
+my guardians, were THEIR FEELINGS to be considered before 
+mine?  I should like to see Lord Rosebery or Lord Spencer in 
+my place!  They'd very soon wish they had a mother who &c. 
+&c.'
+
+When my letter was finished I got leave to go ashore to post 
+it.  Feeling utterly miserable, I had my hair cut; and, 
+rendered perfectly reckless by my appearance, I consented to 
+have what was left of it tightly curled with a pair of tongs.  
+I cannot say that I shared in any sensible degree the 
+pleasure which this operation seemed to give to the artist.  
+But when I got back to the ship the sight of my adornment 
+kept my messmates in an uproar for the rest of the afternoon.
+
+Whether the touching appeal to my mother produced tears, or 
+of what kind, matters little; it effectually determined my 
+career.  Before my new ship sailed for China, I was home 
+again, and in full possession of my coveted freedom as a 
+civilian.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+IT was settled that after a course of three years at a 
+private tutor's I was to go to Cambridge.  The life I had led 
+for the past three years was not the best training for the 
+fellow-pupil of lads of fifteen or sixteen who had just left 
+school.  They were much more ready to follow my lead than I 
+theirs, especially as mine was always in the pursuit of 
+pleasure.
+
+I was first sent to Mr. B.'s, about a couple of miles from 
+Alnwick.  Before my time, Alnwick itself was considered out 
+of bounds.  But as nearly half the sin in this world consists 
+in being found out, my companions and I managed never to 
+commit any in this direction.
+
+We generally returned from the town with a bottle of some 
+noxious compound called 'port' in our pockets, which was 
+served out in our 'study' at night, while I read aloud the 
+instructive adventures of Mr. Thomas Jones.  We were, of 
+course, supposed to employ these late hours in preparing our 
+work for the morrow.  One boy only protested that, under the 
+combined seductions of the port and Miss Molly Seagrim, he 
+could never make his verses scan.
+
+Another of our recreations was poaching.  From my earliest 
+days I was taught to shoot, myself and my brothers being each 
+provided with his little single-barrelled flint and steel 
+'Joe Manton.'  At - we were surrounded by grouse moors on one 
+side, and by well-preserved coverts on the other.  The grouse 
+I used to shoot in the evening while they fed amongst the 
+corn stooks; for pheasants and hares, I used to get the other 
+pupils to walk through the woods, while I with a gun walked 
+outside.  Scouts were posted to look out for keepers.
+
+Did our tutor know?  Of course he knew.  But think of the 
+saving in the butcher's bill!  Besides which, Mr. B. was 
+otherwise preoccupied; he was in love with Mrs. B.  I say 'in 
+love,' for although I could not be sure of it then, (having 
+no direct experience of the AMANTIUM IRAE,) subsequent 
+observation has persuaded me that their perpetual quarrels 
+could mean nothing else.  This was exceedingly favourable to 
+the independence of Mr. B.'s pupils.  But when asked by Mr. 
+Ellice how I was getting on, I was forced in candour to admit 
+that I was in a fair way to forget all I ever knew.
+
+By the advice of Lord Spencer I was next placed under the 
+tuition of one of the minor canons of Ely.  The Bishop of Ely 
+- Dr. Allen - had been Lord Spencer's tutor, hence his 
+elevation to the see.  The Dean - Dr. Peacock, of algebraic 
+and Trinity College fame - was good enough to promise 'to 
+keep an eye' on me.  Lord Spencer himself took me to Ely; and 
+there I remained for two years.  They were two very important 
+years of my life.  Having no fellow pupil to beguile me, I 
+was the more industrious.  But it was not from the better 
+acquaintance with ancient literature that I mainly benefited, 
+- it was from my initiation to modern thought.  I was a 
+constant guest at the Deanery; where I frequently met such 
+men as Sedgwick, Airey the Astronomer-Royal, Selwyn, Phelps 
+the Master of Sydney, Canon Heaviside the master of 
+Haileybury, and many other friends of the Dean's, 
+distinguished in science, literature, and art.  Here I heard 
+discussed opinions on these subjects by some of their leading 
+representatives.  Naturally, as many of them were Churchmen, 
+conversation often turned on the bearing of modern science, 
+of geology especially if Sedgwick were of the party, upon 
+Mosaic cosmogony, or Biblical exegesis generally.
+
+The knowledge of these learned men, the lucidity with which 
+they expressed their views, and the earnestness with which 
+they defended them, captivated my attention, and opened to me 
+a new world of surpassing interest and gravity.
+
+What startled me most was the spirit in which a man of 
+Sedgwick's intellectual power protested against the possible 
+encroachments of his own branch of science upon the orthodox 
+tenets of the Church.  Just about this time an anonymous book 
+appeared, which, though long since forgotten, caused no 
+slight disturbance amongst dogmatic theologians.  The 
+tendency of this book, 'Vestiges of the Creation,' was, or 
+was then held to be, antagonistic to the arguments from 
+design.  Familiar as we now are with the theory of evolution, 
+such a work as the 'Vestiges' would no more stir the ODIUM 
+THEOLOGICUM than Franklin's kite.  Sedgwick, however, 
+attacked it with a vehemence and a rancour that would 
+certainly have roasted its author had the professor held the 
+office of Grand Inquisitor.
+
+Though incapable of forming any opinion as to the scientific 
+merits of such a book, or of Hugh Miller's writings, which he 
+also attacked upon purely religious grounds, I was staggered 
+by the fact that the Bible could possibly be impeached, or 
+that it was not profanity to defend it even.  Was it not the 
+'Word of God'?  And if so, how could any theories of 
+creation, any historical, any philological researches, shake 
+its eternal truth?
+
+Day and night I pondered over this new revelation.  I bought 
+the books - the wicked books - which nobody ought to read.  
+The INDEX EXPURGATORIUS became my guide for books to be 
+digested.  I laid hands on every heretical work I could hear 
+of.  By chance I made the acquaintance of a young man who, 
+together with his family, were Unitarians.  I got, and 
+devoured, Channing's works.  I found a splendid copy of 
+Voltaire in the Holkham library, and hunted through the 
+endless volumes, till I came to the 'Dialogues 
+Philosophiques.'  The world is too busy, fortunately, to 
+disturb its peace with such profane satire, such withering 
+sarcasm as flashes through an 'entretien' like that between 
+'Frere Rigolet' and 'L'Empereur de la Chine.'  Every French 
+man of letters knows it by heart; but it would wound our 
+English susceptibilities were I to cite it here.  Then, too, 
+the impious paraphrase of the Athanasian Creed, with its 
+terrible climax, from the converting Jesuit:  'Or vous voyez 
+bien . . . qu'un homme qui ne croit pas cette histoire doit 
+etre brule dans ce monde ci, et dans l'autre.'  To which 
+'L'Empereur' replies:  'Ca c'est clair comme le jour.'
+
+Could an ignorant youth, fevered with curiosity and the first 
+goadings of the questioning spirit, resist such logic, such 
+scorn, such scathing wit, as he met with here?
+
+Then followed Rousseau; 'Emile' became my favourite.  
+Froude's 'Nemesis of Faith' I read, and many other books of a 
+like tendency.  Passive obedience, blind submission to 
+authority, was never one of my virtues, and once my faith was 
+shattered, I knew not where to stop - what to doubt, what to 
+believe.  If the injunction to 'prove all things' was 
+anything more than an empty apophthegm, inquiry, in St. 
+Paul's eyes at any rate, could not be sacrilege.
+
+It was not happiness I sought, - not peace of mind at least; 
+for assuredly my thirst for knowledge, for truth, brought me 
+anything but peace.  I never was more restless, or, at times, 
+more unhappy.  Shallow, indeed, must be the soul that can 
+lightly sever itself from beliefs which lie at the roots of 
+our moral, intellectual, and emotional being, sanctified too 
+by associations of our earliest love and reverence.  I used 
+to wander about the fields, and sit for hours in sequestered 
+spots, longing for some friend, some confidant to take 
+counsel with.  I knew no such friend.  I did not dare to 
+speak of my misgivings to others.  In spite of my earnest 
+desire for guidance, for more light, the strong grip of 
+childhood's influences was impossible to shake off.  I could 
+not rid my conscience of the sin of doubt.
+
+It is this difficulty, this primary dependence on others, 
+which develops into the child's first religion, that 
+perpetuates the infantile character of human creeds; and, 
+what is worse, generates the hideous bigotry which justifies 
+that sad reflection of Lucretius:  'Tantum Religio potuit 
+suadere malorum!'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+TO turn again to narrative, and to far less serious thoughts.  
+The last eighteen months before I went to Cambridge, I was 
+placed, or rather placed myself, under the tuition of Mr. 
+Robert Collyer, rector of Warham, a living close to Holkham 
+in the gift of my brother Leicester.  Between my Ely tutor 
+and myself there was but little sympathy.  He was a man of 
+much refinement, but with not much indulgence for such 
+aberrant proclivities as mine.  Without my knowledge, he 
+wrote to Mr. Ellice lamenting my secret recusancy, and its 
+moral dangers.  Mr. Ellice came expressly from London, and 
+stayed a night at Ely.  He dined with us in the cloisters, 
+and had a long private conversation with my tutor, and, 
+before he left, with me.  I indignantly resented the 
+clandestine representations of Mr. S., and, without a word to 
+Mr. Ellice or to anyone else, wrote next day to Mr. Collyer 
+to beg him to take me in at Warham, and make what he could of 
+me, before I went to Cambridge.  It may here be said that Mr. 
+Collyer had been my father's chaplain, and had lived at 
+Holkham for several years as family tutor to my brothers and 
+myself, as we in turn left the nursery.  Mr. Collyer, upon 
+receipt of my letter, referred the matter to Mr. Ellice; with 
+his approval I was duly installed at Warham.  Before 
+describing my time there, I must tell of an incident which 
+came near to affecting me in a rather important way.
+
+My mother lived at Longford in Derbyshire, an old place, now 
+my home, which had come into the Coke family in James I.'s 
+reign, through the marriage of a son of Chief Justice Coke's 
+with the heiress of the De Langfords, an ancient family from 
+that time extinct.  While staying there during my summer 
+holidays, my mother confided to me that she had had an offer 
+of marriage from Mr. Motteux, the owner of considerable 
+estates in Norfolk, including two houses - Beachamwell and 
+Sandringham.  Mr. Motteux - 'Johnny Motteux,' as he was 
+called - was, like Tristram Shandy's father, the son of a 
+wealthy 'Turkey merchant,' which, until better informed, I 
+always took to mean a dealer in poultry.  'Johnny,' like 
+another man of some notoriety, whom I well remember in my 
+younger days - Mr. Creevey - had access to many large houses 
+such as Holkham; not, like Creevey, for the sake of his 
+scandalous tongue, but for the sake of his wealth.  He had no 
+(known) relatives; and big people, who had younger sons to 
+provide for, were quite willing that one of them should be 
+his heir.  Johnny Motteux was an epicure with the best of 
+CHEFS.  His capons came from Paris, his salmon from 
+Christchurch, and his Strasburg pies were made to order.  One 
+of these he always brought with him as a present to my 
+mother, who used to say, 'Mr. Motteux evidently thinks the 
+nearest way to my heart is down my throat.'
+
+A couple of years after my father's death, Motteux wrote to 
+my mother proposing marriage, and, to enhance his personal 
+attractions, (in figure and dress he was a duplicate of the 
+immortal Pickwick,) stated that he had made his will and had 
+bequeathed Sandringham to me, adding that, should he die 
+without issue, I was to inherit the remainder of his estates.
+
+Rather to my surprise, my mother handed the letter to me with 
+evident signs of embarrassment and distress.  My first 
+exclamation was:  'How jolly!  The shooting's first rate, and 
+the old boy is over seventy, if he's a day.'
+
+My mother apparently did not see it in this light.  She 
+clearly, to my disappointments did not care for the shooting; 
+and my exultation only brought tears into her eyes.
+
+'Why, mother,' I exclaimed, 'what's up?  Don't you - don't 
+you care for Johnny Motteux?'
+
+She confessed that she did not.
+
+'Then why don't you tell him so, and not bother about his 
+beastly letter?'
+
+'If I refuse him you will lose Sandringham.'
+
+'But he says here he has already left it to me.'
+
+'He will alter his will.'
+
+'Let him!' cried I, flying out at such prospective meanness.  
+'Just you tell him you don't care a rap for him or for 
+Sandringham either.'
+
+In more lady-like terms she acted in accordance with my 
+advice; and, it may be added, not long afterwards married Mr. 
+Ellice.
+
+Mr. Motteux's first love, or one of them, had been Lady 
+Cowper, then Lady Palmerston.  Lady Palmerston's youngest son 
+was Mr. Spencer Cowper.  Mr. Motteux died a year or two after 
+the above event.  He made a codicil to his will, and left 
+Sandringham and all his property to Mr. Spencer Cowper.  Mr. 
+Spencer Cowper was a young gentleman of costly habits.  
+Indeed, he bore the slightly modified name of 'Expensive 
+Cowper.'  As an attache at Paris he was famous for his 
+patronage of dramatic art - or artistes rather; the votaries 
+of Terpsichore were especially indebted to his liberality.  
+At the time of Mr. Motteux's demise, he was attached to the 
+Embassy at St. Petersburg.  Mr. Motteux's solicitors wrote 
+immediately to inform him of his accession to their late 
+client's wealth.  It being one of Mr. Cowper's maxims never 
+to read lawyers' letters, (he was in daily receipt of more 
+than he could attend to,) he flung this one unread into the 
+fire; and only learnt his mistake through the congratulations 
+of his family.
+
+The Prince Consort happened about this time to be in quest of 
+a suitable country seat for his present Majesty; and 
+Sandringham, through the adroit negotiations of Lord 
+Palmerston, became the property of the Prince of Wales.  The 
+soul of the 'Turkey merchant,' we cannot doubt, will repose 
+in peace.
+
+The worthy rector of Warham St. Mary's was an oddity 
+deserving of passing notice.  Outwardly he was no Adonis.  
+His plain features and shock head of foxy hair, his 
+antiquated and neglected garb, his copious jabot - much 
+affected by the clergy of those days - were becoming 
+investitures of the inward man.  His temper was inflammatory, 
+sometimes leading to excesses, which I am sure he rued in 
+mental sackcloth and ashes.  But visitors at Holkham (unaware 
+of the excellent motives and moral courage which inspired his 
+conduct) were not a little amazed at the austerity with which 
+he obeyed the dictates of his conscience.
+
+For example, one Sunday evening after dinner, when the 
+drawing-room was filled with guests, who more or less 
+preserved the decorum which etiquette demands in the presence 
+of royalty, (the Duke of Sussex was of the party,) Charles 
+Fox and Lady Anson, great-grandmother of the present Lord 
+Lichfield, happened to be playing at chess.  When the 
+irascible dominie beheld them he pushed his way through the 
+bystanders, swept the pieces from the board, and, with 
+rigorous impartiality, denounced these impious desecrators of 
+the Sabbath eve.
+
+As an example of his fidelity as a librarian, Mr. Panizzi 
+used to relate with much glee how, whenever he was at 
+Holkham, Mr. Collyer dogged him like a detective.  One day, 
+not wishing to detain the reverend gentleman while he himself 
+spent the forenoon in the manuscript library, (where not only 
+the ancient manuscripts, but the most valuable of the printed 
+books, are kept under lock and key,) he considerately begged 
+Mr. Collyer to leave him to his researches.  The dominie 
+replied 'that he knew his duty, and did not mean to neglect 
+it.'  He did not lose sight of Mr. Panizzi.
+
+The notion that he - the great custodian of the nation's 
+literary treasures - would snip out and pocket the title-page 
+of the folio edition of Shakespeare, or of the Coverdale 
+Bible, tickled Mr. Panizzi's fancy vastly.
+
+In spite, however, of our rector's fiery temperament, or 
+perhaps in consequence of it, he was remarkably susceptible 
+to the charms of beauty.  We were constantly invited to 
+dinner and garden parties in the neighbourhood; nor was the 
+good rector slow to return the compliment.  It must be 
+confessed that the pupil shared to the full the 
+impressibility of the tutor; and, as it happened, unknown to 
+both, the two were in one case rivals.
+
+As the young lady afterwards occupied a very distinguished 
+position in Oxford society, it can only be said that she was 
+celebrated for her many attractions.  She was then sixteen, 
+and the younger of her suitors but two years older.  As far 
+as age was concerned, nothing could be more compatible.  Nor 
+in the matter of mutual inclination was there any disparity 
+whatever.  What, then, was the pupil's dismay when, after a 
+dinner party at the rectory, and the company had left, the 
+tutor, in a frantic state of excitement, seized the pupil by 
+both hands, and exclaimed:  'She has accepted me!'
+
+'Accepted you?' I asked.  'Who has accepted you?'
+
+'Who?  Why, Miss -, of course!  Who else do you suppose would 
+accept me?'
+
+'No one,' said I, with doleful sincerity.  'But did you 
+propose to her?  Did she understand what you said to her?  
+Did she deliberately and seriously say "Yes?"'
+
+'Yes, yes, yes,' and his disordered jabot and touzled hair 
+echoed the fatal word.
+
+'O Smintheus of the silver bow!' I groaned.  'It is the 
+woman's part to create delusions, and - destroy them!  To 
+think of it! after all that has passed between us these  - 
+these three weeks, next Monday!  "Once and for ever."  Did 
+ever woman use such words before?  And I - believed them!'  
+'Did you speak to the mother?' I asked in a fit of 
+desperation.
+
+'There was no time for that.  Mrs. - was in the carriage, and 
+I didn't pop [the odious word!] till I was helping her on 
+with her cloak.  The cloak, you see, made it less awkward.  
+My offer was a sort of OBITER DICTUM - a by-the-way, as it 
+were.'
+
+'To the carriage, yes.  But wasn't she taken by surprise?'
+
+'Not a bit of it.  Bless you! they always know.  She 
+pretended not to understand, but that's a way they have.'
+
+'And when you explained?'
+
+'There wasn't time for more.  She laughed, and sprang into 
+the carriage.'
+
+'And that was all?'
+
+'All! would you have had her spring into my arms?'
+
+'God forbid!  You will have to face the mother to-morrow,' 
+said I, recovering rapidly from my despondency.
+
+'Face?  Well, I shall have to call upon Mrs. -, if that's 
+what you mean.  A mere matter of form.  I shall go over after 
+lunch.  But it needn't interfere with your work.  You can go 
+on with the "Anabasis" till I come back.  And remember - 
+NEANISKOS is not a proper name, ha! ha! ha!  The quadratics 
+will keep till the evening.'  He was merry over his 
+prospects, and I was not altogether otherwise.
+
+But there was no Xenophon, no algebra, that day!  Dire was 
+the distress of my poor dominie when he found the mother as 
+much bewildered as the daughter was frightened, by the 
+mistake.  'She,' the daughter, 'had never for a moment 
+imagined, &c., &c.'
+
+My tutor was not long disheartened by such caprices - so he 
+deemed them, as Miss Jemima's (she had a prettier name, you 
+may be sure), and I did my best (it cost me little now) to 
+encourage his fondest hopes.  I proposed that we should drink 
+the health of the future mistress of Warham in tea, which he 
+cheerfully acceded to, all the more readily, that it gave him 
+an opportunity to vent one of his old college jokes.  'Yes, 
+yes,' said he, with a laugh, 'there's nothing like tea.  TE 
+VENIENTE DIE, TE DECEDENTE CANEBAM.'  Such sallies of 
+innocent playfulness often smoothed his path in life.  He 
+took a genuine pleasure in his own jokes.  Some men do.  One 
+day I dropped a pot of marmalade on a new carpet, and should 
+certainly have been reprimanded for carelessness, had it not 
+occurred to him to exclaim:  'JAM SATIS TERRIS!' and then 
+laugh immoderately at his wit.
+
+That there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of 
+it, was a maxim he acted upon, if he never heard it. Within a 
+month of the above incident he proposed to another lady upon 
+the sole grounds that, when playing a game of chess, an 
+exchange of pieces being contemplated, she innocently, but 
+incautiously, observed, 'If you take me, I will take you.'  
+He referred the matter next day to my ripe judgment.  As I 
+had no partiality for the lady in question, I strongly 
+advised him to accept so obvious a challenge, and go down on 
+his knees to her at once.  I laid stress on the knees, as the 
+accepted form of declaration, both in novels and on the 
+stage.
+
+In this case the beloved object, who was not embarrassed by 
+excess of amiability, promptly desired him, when he urged his 
+suit, 'not to make a fool of himself.'
+
+My tutor's peculiarities, however, were not confined to his 
+endeavours to meet with a lady rectoress.  He sometimes 
+surprised his hearers with the originality of his abstruse 
+theories.  One morning he called me into the stable yard to 
+join in consultation with his gardener as to the advisability 
+of killing a pig.  There were two, and it was not easy to 
+decide which was the fitter for the butcher.  The rector 
+selected one, I the other, and the gardener, who had nurtured 
+both from their tenderest age, pleaded that they should be 
+allowed to 'put on another score.'  The point was warmly 
+argued all round.
+
+'The black sow,' said I (they were both sows, you must know) 
+- 'The black sow had a litter of ten last time, and the white 
+one only six.  Ergo, if history repeats itself, as I have 
+heard you say, you should keep the black, and sacrifice the 
+white.'
+
+'But,' objected the rector, 'that was the white's first 
+litter, and the black's second.  Why shouldn't the white do 
+as well as the black next time?'
+
+'And better, your reverence,' chimed in the gardener.  'The 
+number don't allays depend on the sow, do it?'
+
+'That is neither here nor there,' returned the rector.
+
+'Well,' said the gardener, who stood to his guns, 'if your 
+reverence is right, as no doubt you will be, that'll make 
+just twenty little pigs for the butcher, come Michaelmas.'
+
+'We can't kill 'em before they are born,' said the rector.
+
+'That's true, your reverence.  But it comes to the same 
+thing.'
+
+'Not to the pigs,' retorted the rector.
+
+'To your reverence, I means.'
+
+'A pig at the butcher's,' I suggested, 'is worth a dozen 
+unborn.'
+
+'No one can deny it,' said the rector, as he fingered the 
+small change in his breeches pocket; and pointing with the 
+other hand to the broad back of the black sow, exclaimed, 
+'This is the one, DUPLEX AGITUR PER LUMBOS SPINA!  She's got 
+a back like an alderman's chin.'
+
+'EPICURI DE GREGE PORCUS,' I assented, and the fate of the 
+black sow was sealed.
+
+Next day an express came from Holkham, to say that Lady 
+Leicester had given birth to a daughter.  My tutor jumped out 
+of his chair to hand me the note.  'Did I not anticipate the 
+event'? he cried.  'What a wonderful world we live in!  
+Unconsciously I made room for the infant by sacrificing the 
+life of that pig.'  As I never heard him allude to the 
+doctrine of Pythagoras, as he had no leaning to Buddhism, 
+and, as I am sure he knew nothing of the correlation of 
+forces, it must be admitted that the conception was an 
+original one.
+
+Be this as it may, Mr. Collyer was an upright and 
+conscientious man.  I owe him much, and respect his memory.  
+He died at an advanced age, an honorary canon, and - a 
+bachelor.
+
+Another portrait hangs amongst the many in my memory's 
+picture gallery.  It is that of his successor to the 
+vicarage, the chaplaincy, and the librarianship, at Holkham - 
+Mr. Alexander Napier - at this time, and until his death 
+fifty years later, one of my closest and most cherished 
+friends.  Alexander Napier was the son of Macvey Napier, 
+first editor of the 'Edinburgh Review.'  Thus, associated 
+with many eminent men of letters, he also did some good 
+literary work of his own.  He edited Isaac Barrow's works for 
+the University of Cambridge, also Boswell's 'Johnson,' and 
+gave various other proofs of his talents and his scholarship.  
+He was the most delightful of companions; liberal-minded in 
+the highest degree; full of quaint humour and quick sympathy; 
+an excellent parish priest, - looking upon Christianity as a 
+life and not a dogma; beloved by all, for he had a kind 
+thought and a kind word for every needy or sick being in his 
+parish.
+
+With such qualities, the man always predominated over the 
+priest.  Hence his large-hearted charity and indulgence for 
+the faults - nay, crimes - of others.  Yet, if taken aback by 
+an outrage, or an act of gross stupidity, which even the 
+perpetrator himself had to suffer for, he would momentarily 
+lose his patience, and rap out an objurgation that would 
+stagger the straiter-laced gentlemen of his own cloth, or an 
+outsider who knew less of him than - the recording angel.
+
+A fellow undergraduate of Napier's told me a characteristic 
+anecdote of his impetuosity.  Both were Trinity men, and had 
+been keeping high jinks at a supper party at Caius.  The 
+friend suddenly pointed to the clock, reminding Napier they 
+had but five minutes to get into college before Trinity gates 
+were closed.  'D-n the clock!' shouted Napier, and snatching 
+up the sugar basin (it was not EAU SUCREE they were 
+drinking), incontinently flung it at the face of the 
+offending timepiece.
+
+This youthful vivacity did not desert him in later years.  An 
+old college friend - also a Scotchman - had become Bishop of 
+Edinburgh.  Napier paid him a visit (he described it to me 
+himself).  They talked of books, they talked of politics, 
+they talked of English Bards and Scotch Reviewers, of 
+Brougham, Horner, Wilson, Macaulay, Jeffrey, of Carlyle's 
+dealings with Napier's father - 'Nosey,' as Carlyle calls 
+him.  They chatted into the small hours of the night, as boon 
+companions, and as what Bacon calls 'full' men, are wont.  
+The claret, once so famous in the 'land of cakes,' had given 
+place to toddy; its flow was in due measure to the flow of 
+soul.  But all that ends is short - the old friends had spent 
+their last evening together.  Yes, their last, perhaps.  It 
+was bed-time, and quoth Napier to his lordship, 'I tell you 
+what it is, Bishop, I am na fou', but I'll be hanged if I 
+haven't got two left legs.'
+
+'I see something odd about them,' says his lordship.  'We'd 
+better go to bed.'
+
+Who the bishop was I do not know, but I'll answer for it he 
+was one of the right sort.
+
+In 1846 I became an undergraduate of Trinity College, 
+Cambridge.  I do not envy the man (though, of course, one 
+ought) whose college days are not the happiest to look back 
+upon.  One should hope that however profitably a young man 
+spends his time at the University, it is but the preparation 
+for something better.  But happiness and utility are not 
+necessarily concomitant; and even when an undergraduate's 
+course is least employed for its intended purpose (as, alas! 
+mine was) - for happiness, certainly not pure, but simple, 
+give me life at a University,
+
+Heaven forbid that any youth should be corrupted by my 
+confession!  But surely there are some pleasures pertaining 
+to this unique epoch that are harmless in themselves, and are 
+certainly not to be met with at any other.  These are the 
+first years of comparative freedom, of manhood, of 
+responsibility.  The novelty, the freshness of every 
+pleasure, the unsatiated appetite for enjoyment, the animal 
+vigour, the ignorance of care, the heedlessness of, or 
+rather, the implicit faith in, the morrow, the absence of 
+mistrust or suspicion, the frank surrender to generous 
+impulses, the readiness to accept appearances for realities - 
+to believe in every profession or exhibition of good will, to 
+rush into the arms of every friendship, to lay bare one's 
+tenderest secrets, to listen eagerly to the revelations which 
+make us all akin, to offer one's time, one's energies, one's 
+purse, one's heart, without a selfish afterthought - these, I 
+say, are the priceless pleasures, never to be repeated, of 
+healthful average youth.
+
+What has after-success, honour, wealth, fame, or, power - 
+burdened, as they always are, with ambitions, blunders, 
+jealousies, cares, regrets, and failing health - to match 
+with this enjoyment of the young, the bright, the bygone, 
+hour?  The wisdom of the worldly teacher - at least, the 
+CARPE DIEM - was practised here before the injunction was 
+ever thought of.  DU BIST SO SCHON was the unuttered 
+invocation, while the VERWEILE DOCH was deemed unneedful.
+
+Little, I am ashamed to own, did I add either to my small 
+classical or mathematical attainments.  But I made 
+friendships - lifelong friendships, that I would not barter 
+for the best of academical prizes.
+
+Amongst my associates or acquaintances, two or three of whom 
+have since become known - were the last Lord Derby, Sir 
+William Harcourt, the late Lord Stanley of Alderley, Latimer 
+Neville, late Master of Magdalen, Lord Calthorpe, of racing 
+fame, with whom I afterwards crossed the Rocky Mountains, the 
+last Lord Durham, my cousin, Sir Augustus Stephenson, ex-
+solicitor to the Treasury, Julian Fane, whose lyrics were 
+edited by Lord Lytton, and my life-long friend Charles 
+Barrington, private secretary to Lord Palmerston and to Lord 
+John Russell.
+
+But the most intimate of them was George Cayley, son of the 
+member for the East Riding of Yorkshire.  Cayley was a young 
+man of much promise.  In his second year he won the 
+University prize poem with his 'Balder,' and soon after 
+published some other poems, and a novel, which met with 
+merited oblivion.  But it was as a talker that he shone.  His 
+quick intelligence, his ready wit, his command of language, 
+made his conversation always lively, and sometimes brilliant.  
+For several years after I left Cambridge I lived with him in 
+his father's house in Dean's Yard, and thus made the 
+acquaintance of some celebrities whom his fascinating and 
+versatile talents attracted thither.  As I shall return to 
+this later on, I will merely mention here the names of such 
+men as Thackeray, Tennyson, Frederick Locker, Stirling of 
+Keir, Tom Taylor the dramatist, Millais, Leighton, and others 
+of lesser note.  Cayley was a member of, and regular 
+attendant at, the Cosmopolitan Club; where he met Dickens, 
+Foster, Shirley Brooks, John Leech, Dicky Doyle, and the wits 
+of the day; many of whom occasionally formed part of our 
+charming coterie in the house I shared with his father.
+
+Speaking of Tom Taylor reminds me of a good turn he once did 
+me in my college examination at Cambridge.  Whewell was then 
+Master of Trinity.  One of the subjects I had to take up was 
+either the 'Amicitia' or the 'Senectute' (I forget which).  
+Whewell, more formidable and alarming than ever, opened the 
+book at hazard, and set me on to construe.  I broke down.  He 
+turned over the page; again I stuck fast.  The truth is, I 
+had hardly looked at my lesson, - trusting to my recollection 
+of parts of it to carry me through, if lucky, with the whole.
+
+'What's your name, sir?' was the Master's gruff inquiry.  He 
+did not catch it.  But Tom Taylor - also an examiner - 
+sitting next to him, repeated my reply, with the addition, 
+'Just returned from China, where he served as a midshipman in 
+the late war.'  He then took the book out of Whewell's hands, 
+and giving it to me closed, said good-naturedly:  'Let us 
+have another try, Mr. Coke.'  The chance was not thrown away; 
+I turned to a part I knew, and rattled off as if my first 
+examiner had been to blame, not I.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+BEFORE dropping the curtain on my college days I must relate 
+a little adventure which is amusing as an illustration of my 
+reverend friend Napier's enthusiastic spontaneity.  My own 
+share in the farce is a subordinate matter.
+
+During the Christmas party at Holkham I had 'fallen in love,' 
+as the phrase goes, with a young lady whose uncle (she had 
+neither father nor mother) had rented a place in the 
+neighbourhood.  At the end of his visit he invited me to 
+shoot there the following week.  For what else had I paid him 
+assiduous attention, and listened like an angel to the 
+interminable history of his gout?  I went; and before I left, 
+proposed to, and was accepted by, the young lady.  I was 
+still at Cambridge, not of age, and had but moderate means.  
+As for the maiden, 'my face is my fortune' she might have 
+said.  The aunt, therefore, very properly pooh-poohed the 
+whole affair, and declined to entertain the possibility of an 
+engagement; the elderly gentleman got a bad attack of gout; 
+and every wire of communication being cut, not an obstacle 
+was wanting to render persistence the sweetest of miseries.
+
+Napier was my confessor, and became as keen to circumvent the 
+'old she-dragon,' so he called her, as I was.  Frequent and 
+long were our consultations, but they generally ended in 
+suggestions and schemes so preposterous, that the only result 
+was an immoderate fit of laughter on both sides.  At length 
+it came to this (the proposition was not mine):  we were to 
+hire a post chaise and drive to the inn at G-.  I was to 
+write a note to the young lady requesting her to meet me at 
+some trysting place.  The note was to state that a clergyman 
+would accompany me, who was ready and willing to unite us 
+there and then in holy matrimony; that I would bring the 
+licence in my pocket; that after the marriage we could confer 
+as to ways and means; and that - she could leave the REST to 
+me.
+
+No enterprise was ever more merrily conceived, or more 
+seriously undertaken.  (Please to remember that my friend was 
+not so very much older than I; and, in other respects, was 
+quite as juvenile.)
+
+Whatever was to come of it, the drive was worth the venture.  
+The number of possible and impossible contingencies provided 
+for kept us occupied by the hour.  Furnished with a well-
+filled luncheon basket, we regaled ourselves and fortified 
+our courage; while our hilarity increased as we neared, or 
+imagined that we neared, the climax.  Unanimously we repeated 
+Dr. Johnson's exclamation in a post chaise:  'Life has not 
+many things better than this.'
+
+But where were we?  Our watches told us that we had been two 
+hours covering a distance of eleven miles.
+
+'Hi!  Hullo!  Stop!' shouted Napier.  In those days post 
+horses were ridden, not driven; and about all we could see of 
+the post boy was what Mistress Tabitha Bramble saw of 
+Humphrey Clinker.  'Where the dickens have we got to now?'
+
+'Don't know, I'm sure, sir,' says the boy; 'never was in 
+these 'ere parts afore.'
+
+'Why,' shouts the vicar, after a survey of the landscape, 'if 
+I can see a church by daylight, that's Blakeney steeple; and 
+we are only three miles from where we started.'
+
+Sure enough it was so.  There was nothing for it but to stop 
+at the nearest house, give the horses a rest and a feed, and 
+make a fresh start, - better informed as to our topography.
+
+It was past four on that summer afternoon when we reached our 
+destination.  The plan of campaign was cut and dried.  I 
+called for writing materials, and indicted my epistle as 
+agreed upon.
+
+'To whom are you telling her to address the answer?' asked my 
+accomplice.  'We're INCOG. you know.  It won't do for either 
+of us to be known.'
+
+'Certainly not,' said I.  'What shall it be?  White? Black? 
+Brown? or Green?'
+
+'Try Browne with an E,' said he.  'The E gives an 
+aristocratic flavour.  We can't afford to risk our 
+respectability.'
+
+The note sealed, I rang the bell for the landlord, desired 
+him to send it up to the hall and tell the messenger to wait 
+for an answer.
+
+As our host was leaving the room he turned round, with his 
+hand on the door, and said:
+
+'Beggin' your pardon, Mr. Cook, would you and Mr. Napeer 
+please to take dinner here?  I've soom beatiful lamb chops, 
+and you could have a ducklin' and some nice young peas to 
+your second course.  The post-boy says the 'osses is pretty 
+nigh done up; but by the time - '
+
+'How did you know our names?' asked my companion.
+
+'Law sir!  The post-boy, he told me.  But, beggin' your 
+pardon, Mr. Napeer, my daughter, she lives in Holkham 
+willage; and I've heard you preach afore now.'
+
+'Let's have the dinner by all means,' said I.
+
+'If the Bishop sequesters my living,' cried Napier, with 
+solemnity, 'I'll summon the landlord for defamation of 
+character.  But time's up.  You must make for the boat-house, 
+which is on the other side of the park.  I'll go with you to 
+the head of the lake.'
+
+We had not gone far, when we heard the sound of an 
+approaching vehicle.  What did we see but an open carriage, 
+with two ladies in it, not a hundred yards behind us.
+
+'The aunt! by all that's - !'
+
+What -  I never heard; for, before the sentence was 
+completed, the speaker's long legs were scampering out of 
+sight in the direction of a clump of trees, I following as 
+hard as I could go.
+
+As the carriage drove past, my Friar Lawrence was lying in a 
+ditch, while I was behind an oak.  We were near enough to 
+discern the niece, and consequently we feared to be 
+recognised.  The situation was neither dignified nor 
+romantic.  My friend was sanguine, though big ardour was 
+slightly damped by the ditch water.  I doubted the expediency 
+of trying the boat-house, but he urged the risk of her 
+disappointment, which made the attempt imperative.
+
+The padre returned to the inn to dry himself, and, in due 
+course, I rejoined him.  He met me with the answer to my 
+note.  'The boat-house,' it declared, 'was out of the 
+question.  But so, of course, was the POSSIBILITY of CHANGE.  
+We must put our trust in PROVIDENCE.  Time could make NO 
+difference in OUR case, whatever it might do with OTHERS.  
+SHE, at any rate, could wait for YEARS.'  Upon the whole the 
+result was comforting - especially as the 'years' dispensed 
+with the necessity of any immediate step more desperate than 
+dinner.  This we enjoyed like men who had earned it; and long 
+before I deposited my dear friar in his cell both of us were 
+snoring in our respective corners of the chaise.
+
+A word or two will complete this romantic episode.  The next 
+long vacation I spent in London, bent, needless to say, on a 
+happy issue to my engagement.  How simple, in the retrospect, 
+is the frustration of our hopes!  I had not been a week in 
+town, had only danced once with my FIANCEE, when, one day, 
+taking a tennis lesson from the great Barre, a forced ball 
+grazed the frame of my racket, and broke a blood vessel in my 
+eye.
+
+For five weeks I was shut up in a dark room.  It was two more 
+before I again met my charmer.  She did not tell me, but her 
+man did, that their wedding day was fixed for the 10th of the 
+following month; and he 'hoped they would have the pleasure 
+of seeing me at the breakfast!'  [I made the following note 
+of the fact:  N.B. - A woman's tears may cost her nothing; 
+but her smiles may be expensive.]
+
+I must, however, do the young lady the justice to state that, 
+though her future husband was no great things as a 'man,' as 
+she afterwards discovered, he was the heir to a peerage and 
+great wealth.  Both he and she, like most of my collaborators 
+in this world, have long since passed into the other.
+
+The fashions of bygone days have always an interest for the 
+living:  the greater perhaps the less remote.  We like to 
+think of our ancestors of two or three generations off - the 
+heroes and heroines of Jane Austen, in their pantaloons and 
+high-waisted, short-skirted frocks, their pigtails and 
+powdered hair, their sandalled shoes, and Hessian boots.  Our 
+near connection with them entrances our self-esteem.  Their 
+prim manners, their affected bows and courtesies, the 'dear 
+Mr. So-and-So' of the wife to her husband, the 'Sir' and 
+'Madam' of the children to their parents, make us wonder 
+whether their flesh and blood were ever as warm as ours; or 
+whether they were a race of prigs and puppets?
+
+My memory carries me back to the remnants of these lost 
+externals - that which is lost was nothing more; the men and 
+women were every whit as human as ourselves.  My half-sisters 
+wore turbans with birds-of-paradise in them.  My mother wore 
+gigot sleeves; but objected to my father's pigtail, so cut it 
+off.  But my father powdered his head, and kept to his knee-
+breeches to the last; so did all elderly gentlemen, when I 
+was a boy.  For the matter of that, I saw an old fellow with 
+a pigtail walking in the Park as late as 1845.  He, no doubt, 
+was an ultra-conservative.
+
+Fashions change so imperceptibly that it is difficult for the 
+historian to assign their initiatory date.  Does the young 
+dandy of to-day want to know when white ties came into vogue? 
+- he knows that his great-grandfather wore a white neckcloth, 
+and takes it for granted, may be, that his grandfather did so 
+too.  Not a bit of it.  The young Englander of the Coningsby 
+type - the Count d'Orsays of my youth, scorned the white tie 
+alike of their fathers and their sons.  At dinner-parties or 
+at balls, they adorned themselves in satin scarfs, with a 
+jewelled pin or chained pair of pins stuck in them.  I well 
+remember the rebellion - the protest against effeminacy - 
+which the white tie called forth amongst some of us upon its 
+first invasion on evening dress.  The women were in favour of 
+it, and, of course, carried the day; but not without a 
+struggle.  One night at Holkham - we were a large party, I 
+daresay at least fifty at dinner - the men came down in black 
+scarfs, the women in white 'chokers.'  To make the contest 
+complete, these all sat on one side of the table, and we men 
+on the other.  The battle was not renewed; both factions 
+surrendered.  But the women, as usual, got their way, and - 
+their men.
+
+For my part I could never endure the original white 
+neckcloth.  It was stiffly starched, and wound twice round 
+the neck; so I abjured it for the rest of my days; now and 
+then I got the credit of being a coxcomb - not for my pains, 
+but for my comfort.  Once, when dining at the Viceregal Lodge 
+at Dublin, I was 'pulled up' by an aide-de-camp for my 
+unbecoming attire; but I stuck to my colours, and was none 
+the worse.  Another time my offence called forth a touch of 
+good nature on the part of a great man, which I hardly know 
+how to speak of without writing me down an ass.  It was at a 
+crowded party at Cambridge House.  (Let me plead my youth; I 
+was but two-and-twenty.)  Stars and garters were scarcely a 
+distinction.  White ties were then as imperative as shoes and 
+stockings; I was there in a black one.  My candid friends 
+suggested withdrawal, my relations cut me assiduously, 
+strangers by my side whispered at me aloud, women turned 
+their shoulders to me; and my only prayer was that my 
+accursed tie would strangle me on the spot.  One pair of 
+sharp eyes, however, noticed my ignominy, and their owner was 
+moved by compassion for my sufferings.  As I was slinking 
+away, Lord Palmerston, with a BONHOMIE peculiarly his own, 
+came up to me; and with a shake of the hand and hearty 
+manner, asked after my brother Leicester, and when he was 
+going to bring me into Parliament? - ending with a smile:  
+'Where are you off to in such a hurry?'  That is the sort of 
+tact that makes a party leader.  I went to bed a proud, 
+instead of a humiliated, man; ready, if ever I had the 
+chance, to vote that black was white, should he but state it 
+was so.
+
+Beards and moustache came into fashion after the Crimean war.  
+It would have been an outrage to wear them before that time.  
+When I came home from my travels across the Rocky Mountains 
+in 1851, I was still unshaven.  Meeting my younger brother - 
+a fashionable guardsman - in St. James's Street, he 
+exclaimed, with horror and disgust at my barbarity, 'I 
+suppose you mean to cut off that thing!'
+
+Smoking, as indulged in now, was quite out of the question 
+half a century ago.  A man would as soon have thought of 
+making a call in his dressing-gown as of strolling about the 
+West End with a cigar in his mouth.  The first whom I ever 
+saw smoke a cigarette at a dining-table after dinner was the 
+King; some forty years ago, or more perhaps.  One of the many 
+social benefits we owe to his present Majesty.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+
+DURING my blindness I was hospitably housed in Eaten Place by 
+Mr. Whitbread, the head of the renowned firm.  After my 
+recovery I had the good fortune to meet there Lady Morgan, 
+the once famous authoress of the 'Wild Irish Girl.'  She 
+still bore traces of her former comeliness, and had probably 
+lost little of her sparkling vivacity.  She was known to like 
+the company of young people, as she said they made her feel 
+young; so, being the youngest of the party, I had the honour 
+of sitting next her at dinner.  When I recall her 
+conversation and her pleasing manners, I can well understand 
+the homage paid both abroad and at home to the bright genius 
+of the Irish actor's daughter.
+
+We talked a good deal about Byron and Lady Caroline Lamb.  
+This arose out of my saying I had been reading 'Glenarvon,' 
+in which Lady Caroline gives Byron's letters to herself as 
+Glenarvon's letters to the heroine.  Lady Morgan had been the 
+confidante of Lady Caroline, had seen many of Byron's 
+letters, and possessed many of her friend's - full of details 
+of the extraordinary intercourse which had existed between 
+the two.
+
+Lady Morgan evidently did not believe (in spite of Lady 
+Caroline's mad passion for the poet) that the liaison ever 
+reached the ultimate stage contemplated by her lover.  This 
+opinion was strengthened by Lady Caroline's undoubted 
+attachment to her husband - William Lamb, afterwards Lord 
+Melbourne - who seems to have submitted to his wife's 
+vagaries with his habitual stoicism and good humour.
+
+Both Byron and Lady Caroline had violent tempers, and were 
+always quarrelling.  This led to the final rupture, when, 
+according to my informant, the poet's conduct was outrageous.  
+He sent her some insulting lines, which Lady Morgan quoted.  
+The only one I remember is:
+
+
+Thou false to him, thou fiend to me!
+
+
+Among other amusing anecdotes she told was one of Disraeli.  
+She had met him (I forget where), soon after his first 
+success as the youthful author of 'Vivian Grey.'  He was 
+naturally made much of, but rather in the Bohemian world than 
+by such queens of society as Lady Holland or Lady Jersey.  
+'And faith!' she added, with the piquante accent which 
+excitement evoked, 'he took the full shine out of his janius.  
+And how do ye think he was dressed?  In a black velvet jacket 
+and suit to match, with a red sash round his waist, in which 
+was stuck a dagger with a richly jew'lled sheath and handle.'
+
+The only analogous instance of self-confidence that I can 
+call to mind was Garibaldi's costume at a huge reception at 
+Stafford House.  The ELITE of society was there, in diamonds, 
+ribbons, and stars, to meet him.  Garibaldi's uppermost and 
+outermost garment was a red flannel shirt, nothing more nor 
+less.
+
+The crowd jostled and swayed around him.  To get out of the 
+way of it, I retreated to the deserted picture gallery.  The 
+only person there was one who interested me more than the 
+scarlet patriot, Bulwer-Lytton the First.  He was sauntering 
+to and fro with his hands behind his back, looking dingy in 
+his black satin scarf, and dejected.  Was he envying the 
+Italian hero the obsequious reverence paid to his miner's 
+shirt?  (Nine tenths of the men, and still more of the women 
+there, knew nothing of the wearer, or his cause, beyond 
+that.)  Was he thinking of similar honours which had been 
+lavished upon himself when HIS star was in the zenith?  Was 
+he muttering to himself the usual consolation of the 'have-
+beens' - VANITAS VANITATUM?  Or what new fiction, what old 
+love, was flitting through that versatile and fantastic 
+brain?  Poor Bulwer!  He had written the best novel, the best 
+play, and had made the most eloquent parliamentary oration of 
+any man of his day.  But, like another celebrated statesman 
+who has lately passed away, he strutted his hour and will 
+soon be forgotten - 'Quand on broute sa gloire en herbe de 
+son vivant, on ne la recolte pas en epis apres sa mort.'  The 
+'Masses,' so courted by the one, however blatant, are not the 
+arbiters of immortal fame.
+
+To go back a few years before I met Lady Morgan:  when my 
+mother was living at 18 Arlington Street, Sydney Smith used 
+to be a constant visitor there.  One day he called just as we 
+were going to lunch.  He had been very ill, and would not eat 
+anything.  My mother suggested the wing of a chicken.
+
+'My dear lady,' said he, 'it was only yesterday that my 
+doctor positively refused my request for the wing of a 
+butterfly.'
+
+Another time when he was making a call I came to the door 
+before it was opened.  When the footman answered the bell, 
+'Is Lady Leicester at home?' he asked.
+
+'No, sir,' was the answer.
+
+'That's a good job,' he exclaimed, but with a heartiness that 
+fairly took Jeames' breath away.
+
+As Sydney's face was perfectly impassive, I never felt quite 
+sure whether this was for the benefit of myself or of the 
+astounded footman; or whether it was the genuine expression 
+of an absent mind.  He was a great friend of my mother's, and 
+of Mr. Ellice's, but his fits of abstraction were notorious.
+
+He himself records the fact.  'I knocked at a door in London, 
+asked, "Is Mrs. B- at home?"  "Yes, sir; pray what name shall 
+I say?"  I looked at the man's face astonished.  What name? 
+what name? aye, that is the question.  What is my name?  I 
+had no more idea who I was than if I had never existed.  I 
+did not know whether I was a dissenter or a layman.  I felt 
+as dull as Sternhold and Hopkins.  At last, to my great 
+relief, it flashed across me that I was Sydney Smith.'
+
+In the summer of the year 1848 Napier and I stayed a couple 
+of nights with Captain Marryat at Langham, near Blakeney.  He 
+used constantly to come over to Holkham to watch our cricket 
+matches.  His house was a glorified cottage, very comfortable 
+and prettily decorated.  The dining and sitting-rooms were 
+hung with the original water-colour drawings - mostly by 
+Stanfield, I think - which illustrated his minor works.  
+Trophies from all parts of the world garnished the walls.  
+The only inmates beside us two were his son, a strange, but 
+clever young man with considerable artistic abilities, and 
+his talented daughter, Miss Florence, since so well known to 
+novel readers.
+
+Often as I had spoken to Marryat, I never could quite make 
+him out.  Now that I was his guest his habitual reserve 
+disappeared, and despite his failing health he was geniality 
+itself.  Even this I did not fully understand at first.  At 
+the dinner-table his amusement seemed, I won't say to make a 
+'butt' of me - his banter was too good-natured for that - but 
+he treated me as Dr. Primrose treated his son after the 
+bushel-of-green-spectacles bargain.  He invented the most 
+wonderful stories, and told them with imperturbable 
+sedateness.  Finding a credulous listener in me, he drew all 
+the more freely upon his invention.  When, however, he 
+gravely asserted that Jonas was not the only man who had 
+spent three days and three nights in a whale's belly, but 
+that he himself had caught a whale with a man inside it who 
+had lived there for more than a year on blubber, which, he 
+declared, was better than turtle soup, it was impossible to 
+resist the fooling, and not forget that one was the Moses of 
+the extravaganza.
+
+In the evening he proposed that his son and daughter and I 
+should act a charade.  Napier was the audience, and Marryat 
+himself the orchestra - that is, he played on his fiddle such 
+tunes as a ship's fiddler or piper plays to the heaving of 
+the anchor, or for hoisting in cargo.  Everyone was in 
+romping spirits, and notwithstanding the cheery Captain's 
+signs of fatigue and worn looks, which he evidently strove to 
+conceal, the evening had all the freshness and spirit of an 
+impromptu pleasure.
+
+When I left, Marryat gave me his violin, with some sad words 
+about his not being likely to play upon it more.  Perhaps he 
+knew better than we how prophetically he was speaking.  
+Barely three weeks afterwards I learnt that the humorous 
+creator of 'Midshipman Easy' would never make us laugh again.
+
+In 1846 Lord John Russell succeeded Sir Robert Peel as 
+premier.  At the General Election, a brother of mine was the 
+Liberal candidate for the seat in East Norfolk.  He was 
+returned; but was threatened with defeat through an 
+occurrence in which I was innocently involved.
+
+The largest landowner in this division of the county, next to 
+my brother Leicester, was Lord Hastings - great-grandfather 
+of the present lord.  On the occasion I am referring to, he 
+was a guest at Holkham, where a large party was then 
+assembled.  Leicester was particularly anxious to be civil to 
+his powerful neighbour; and desired the members of his family 
+to show him every attention.  The little lord was an 
+exceedingly punctilious man:  as scrupulously dapper in 
+manner as he was in dress.  Nothing could be more courteous, 
+more smiling, than his habitual demeanour; but his bite was 
+worse than his bark, and nobody knew which candidate his 
+agents had instructions to support in the coming contest.  It 
+was quite on the cards that the secret order would turn the 
+scales.
+
+One evening after dinner, when the ladies had left us, the 
+men were drawn together and settled down to their wine.  It 
+was before the days of cigarettes, and claret was plentifully 
+imbibed.  I happened to be seated next to Lord Hastings on 
+his left; on the other side of him was Spencer Lyttelton, 
+uncle of our Colonial Secretary.  Spencer Lyttelton was a 
+notable character.  He had much of the talents and amiability 
+of his distinguished family; but he was eccentric, 
+exceedingly comic, and dangerously addicted to practical 
+jokes.  One of these he now played upon the spruce and 
+vigilant little potentate whom it was our special aim to win.
+
+As the decanters circulated from right to left, Spencer 
+filled himself a bumper, and passed the bottles on.  Lord 
+Hastings followed suit.  I, unfortunately, was speaking to 
+Lyttelton behind Lord Hastings's back, and as he turned and 
+pushed the wine to me, the incorrigible joker, catching sight 
+of the handkerchief sticking out of my lord's coat-tail, 
+quick as thought drew it open and emptied his full glass into 
+the gaping pocket.  A few minutes later Lord Hastings, who 
+took snuff, discovered what had happened.  He held the 
+dripping cloth up for inspection, and with perfect urbanity 
+deposited it on his dessert plate.
+
+Leicester looked furious, but said nothing till we joined the 
+ladies.  He first spoke to Hastings, and then to me.  What 
+passed between the two I do not know.  To me, he said:  
+'Hastings tells me it was you who poured the claret into his 
+pocket.  This will lose the election.  After to-morrow, I 
+shall want your room.'  Of course, the culprit confessed; and 
+my brother got the support we hoped for.  Thus it was that 
+the political interests of several thousands of electors 
+depended on a glass of wine.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+I HAD completed my second year at the University, when, in 
+October 1848, just as I was about to return to Cambridge 
+after the long vacation, an old friend - William Grey, the 
+youngest of the ex-Prime-Minister's sons - called on me at my 
+London lodgings.  He was attached to the Vienna Embassy, 
+where his uncle, Lord Ponsonby, was then ambassador.  Shortly 
+before this there had been serious insurrections both in 
+Paris, Vienna, and Berlin.
+
+Many may still be living who remember how Louis Philippe fled 
+to England; how the infection spread over this country; how 
+25,000 Chartists met on Kennington Common; how the upper and 
+middle classes of London were enrolled as special constables, 
+with the future Emperor of the French amongst them; how the 
+promptitude of the Iron Duke saved London, at least, from the 
+fate of the French and Austrian capitals.
+
+This, however, was not till the following spring.  Up to 
+October, no overt defiance of the Austrian Government had yet 
+asserted itself; but the imminence of an outbreak was the 
+anxious thought of the hour.  The hot heads of Germany, 
+France, and England were more than meditating - they were 
+threatening, and preparing for, a European revolution.  
+Bloody battles were to be fought; kings and emperors were to 
+be dethroned and decapitated; mobs were to take the place of 
+parliaments; the leaders of the 'people' - I.E. the stump 
+orators - were to rule the world; property was to be divided 
+and subdivided down to the shirt on a man's - a rich man's - 
+back; and every 'po'r' man was to have his own, and - 
+somebody else's.  This was the divine law of Nature, 
+according to the gospels of Saint Jean Jacques and Mr. 
+Feargus O'Connor.  We were all naked under our clothes, which 
+clearly proved our equality.  This was the simple, the 
+beautiful programme; once carried out, peace, fraternal and 
+eternal peace, would reign - till it ended, and the earthly 
+Paradise would be an accomplished fact.
+
+I was an ultra-Radical - a younger-son Radical - in those 
+days.  I was quite ready to share with my elder brother; I 
+had no prejudice in favour of my superiors; I had often 
+dreamed of becoming a leader of the 'people' - a stump 
+orator, I.E. - with the handsome emoluments of ministerial 
+office.
+
+William Grey came to say good-bye.  He was suddenly recalled 
+in consequence of the insurrection.  'It is a most critical 
+state of affairs,' he said.  'A revolution may break out all 
+over the Continent at any moment.  There's no saying where it 
+may end.  We are on the eve of a new epoch in the history of 
+Europe.  I wouldn't miss it on any account.'
+
+'Most interesting! most interesting!' I exclaimed.  'How I 
+wish I were going with you!'
+
+'Come,' said he, with engaging brevity.
+
+'How can I?  I'm just going back to Cambridge.'
+
+'You are of age, aren't you?'
+
+I nodded.
+
+'And your own master?  Come; you'll never have such a chance 
+again.'
+
+'When do you start?'
+
+'To-morrow morning early.'
+
+'But it is too late to get a passport.'
+
+'Not a bit of it.  I have to go to the Foreign Office for my 
+despatches.  Dine with me to-night at my mother's - nobody 
+else - and I'll bring your passport in my pocket.'
+
+'So be it, then.  Billy Whistle [the irreverend nickname we 
+undergraduates gave the Master of Trinity] will rusticate me 
+to a certainty.  It can't be helped.  The cause is sacred.  
+I'll meet you at Lady Grey's to-night.'
+
+We reached our destination at daylight on October 9.  We had 
+already heard, while changing carriages at Breslau station, 
+that the revolution had broken out at Vienna, that the rails 
+were torn up, the Bahn-hof burnt, the military defeated and 
+driven from the town.  William Grey's official papers, aided 
+by his fluent German, enabled us to pass the barriers, and 
+find our way into the city.  He went straight to the Embassy, 
+and sent me on to the 'Erzherzog Carl' in the Karnthner Thor 
+Strasse, at that time the best hotel in Vienna.  It being 
+still nearly dark, candles were burning in every window by 
+order of the insurgents.
+
+The preceding day had been an eventful one.  The 
+proletariats, headed by the students, had sacked the arsenal, 
+the troops having made but slight resistance.  They then 
+marched to the War Office and demanded the person of the War 
+Minister, Count Latour, who was most unpopular on account of 
+his known appeal to Jellachich, the Ban of Croatia, to 
+assist, if required, in putting down the disturbances.  Some 
+sharp fighting here took place.  The rioters defeated the 
+small body of soldiers on the spot, captured two guns, and 
+took possession of the building.  The unfortunate minister 
+was found in one of the upper garrets of the palace.  The 
+ruffians dragged him from his place of concealment, and 
+barbarously murdered him.  They then flung his body from the 
+window, and in a few minutes it was hanging from a lamp-post 
+above the heads of the infuriated and yelling mob.
+
+In 1848 the inner city of Vienna was enclosed within a broad 
+and lofty bastion, fosse, and glacis.  These were levelled in 
+1857.  As soon as the troops were expelled, cannon were 
+placed on the Bastei so as to command the approaches from 
+without.  The tunnelled gateways were built up, and 
+barricades erected across every principal thoroughfare.  
+Immediately after these events Ferdinand I. abdicated in 
+favour of the present Emperor Francis Joseph, who retired 
+with the Court to Schobrunn.  Foreigners at once took flight, 
+and the hotels were emptied.  The only person left in the 
+'Archduke Charles' beside myself was Mr. Bowen, afterwards 
+Sir George, Governor of New Zealand, with whom I was glad to 
+fraternise.
+
+These humble pages do not aspire to the dignity of History; 
+but a few words as to what took place are needful for the 
+writer's purposes.  The garrison in Vienna had been 
+comparatively small; and as the National Guard had joined the 
+students and proletariats, it was deemed advisable by the 
+Government to await the arrival of reinforcements under 
+Prince Windischgratz, who, together with a strong body of 
+Servians and Croats under Jellachich, might overawe the 
+insurgents; or, if not, recapture the city without 
+unnecessary bloodshed.  The rebels were buoyed up by hopes of 
+support from the Hungarians under Kossuth.  But in this they 
+were disappointed.  In less than three weeks from the day of 
+the outbreak the city was beleaguered.  Fighting began 
+outside the town on the 24th.  On the 25th the soldiers 
+occupied the Wieden and Nussdorf suburbs.  Next day the 
+Gemeinderath (Municipal Council) sent a PARLEMENTAR to treat 
+with Windischgratz.  The terms were rejected, and the city 
+was taken by storm on October 30.
+
+A few days before the bombardment, the Austrian commander 
+gave the usual notice to the Ambassadors to quit the town.  
+This they accordingly did.  Before leaving, Lord Ponsonby 
+kindly sent his private secretary, Mr. George Samuel, to warn 
+me and invite me to join him at Schonbrunn.  I politely 
+elected to stay and take my chance.  After the attack on the 
+suburbs began I had reason to regret the decision.  The 
+hotels were entered by patrols, and all efficient waiters 
+KOMMANDIERE'D to work at the barricades, or carry arms.  On 
+the fourth day I settled to change sides.  The constant 
+banging of big guns, and rattle of musketry, with the 
+impossibility of getting either air or exercise without the 
+risk of being indefinitely deprived of both, was becoming 
+less amusing than I had counted on.  I was already provided 
+with a PASSIERSCHEIN, which franked me inside the town, and 
+up to the insurgents' outposts.  The difficulty was how to 
+cross the neutral ground and the two opposing lines.  Broad 
+daylight was the safest time for the purpose; the officious 
+sentry is not then so apt to shoot his friend.  With much 
+stalking and dodging I made a bolt; and, notwithstanding 
+violent gesticulations and threats, got myself safely seized 
+and hurried before the nearest commanding officer.
+
+He happened to be a general or a colonel.  He was a fierce 
+looking, stout old gentleman with a very red face, all the 
+redder for his huge white moustache and well-filled white 
+uniform.  He began by fuming and blustering as if about to 
+order me to summary execution.  He spoke so fast, it was not 
+easy to follow him.  Probably my amateur German was as 
+puzzling to him.  The PASSIERSCHEIN, which I produced, was 
+not in my favour; unfortunately I had forgotten my Foreign 
+Office passport.  What further added to his suspicion was his 
+inability to comprehend why I had not availed myself of the 
+notice, duly given to all foreigners, to leave the city 
+before active hostilities began.  How anyone, who had the 
+choice, could be fool enough to stay and be shelled or 
+bayoneted, was (from his point of view) no proof of 
+respectability.  I assured him he was mistaken if he thought 
+I had a predilection for either of these alternatives.
+
+'It was just because I desired to avoid both that I had 
+sought, not without risk, the protection I was so sure of 
+finding at the hands of a great and gallant soldier.'
+
+'Dummes Zeug! dummes Zeug!' (stuff o' nonsense), he puffed.  
+But a peppery man's good humour is often as near the surface 
+as his bad.  I detected a pleasant sparkle in his eye.
+
+'Pardon me, Excellenz,' said I, 'my presence here is the best 
+proof of my sincerity.'
+
+'That,' said he sharply, 'is what every rascal might plead 
+when caught with a rebel's pass in his pocket.  Geleitsbriefe 
+fur Schurken sind Steckbriefe fur die Gerechtigkeit.'  (Safe-
+conduct passes for knaves are writs of capias to honest men.)
+
+I answered:  'But an English gentleman is not a knave; and no 
+one knows the difference better than your Excellenz.'  The 
+term 'Schurken' (knaves) had stirred my fire; and though I 
+made a deferential bow, I looked as indignant as I felt.
+
+'Well, well,' he said pacifically, 'you may go about your 
+business.  But SEHEN SIE, young man, take my advice, don't 
+satisfy your curiosity at the cost of a broken head.  Dazu 
+gehoren Kerle die eigens geschaffen sind.'  As much as to 
+say:  'Leave halters to those who are born to be hanged.'  
+Indeed, the old fellow looked as if he had enjoyed life too 
+well to appreciate parting with it gratuitously.
+
+I had nothing with me save the clothes on my back.  When I 
+should again have access to the 'Erzherzcg Carl' was 
+impossible to surmise.  The only decent inn I knew of outside 
+the walls was the 'Golden Lamm,' on the suburb side of the 
+Donau Canal, close to the Ferdinand bridge which faces the 
+Rothen Thurm Thor.  Here I entered, and found it occupied by 
+a company of Nassau JAGERS.  A barricade was thrown up across 
+the street leading to the bridge.  Behind it were two guns.  
+One end of the barricade abutted on the 'Golden Lamm.'  With 
+the exception of the soldiers, the inn seemed to be deserted; 
+and I wanted both food and lodging.  The upper floor was full 
+of JAGERS.  The front windows over-looked the Bastei.  These 
+were now blocked with mattresses, to protect the men from 
+bullets.  The distance from the ramparts was not more than 
+150 yards, and woe to the student or the fat grocer, in his 
+National Guard uniform, who showed his head above the walls.  
+While I was in the attics a gun above the city gate fired at 
+the battery below.  I ran down a few minutes later to see the 
+result.  One artilleryman had been killed.  He was already 
+laid under the gun-carriage, his head covered with a cloak.
+
+The storming took place a day or two afterwards.  One of the 
+principal points of resistance had been at the bottom of the 
+Jagerzeile.  The insurgents had a battery of several guns 
+here; and the handsome houses at the corners facing the 
+Prater had been loop-holed and filled with students.  I 
+walked round the town after all was over, and was especially 
+impressed with the horrors I witnessed.  The beautiful 
+houses, with their gorgeous furniture, were a mass of smoking 
+ruins.  Not a soul was to be seen, not even a prowling thief.  
+I picked my way into one or two of them without hindrance.  
+Here and there were a heap of bodies, some burnt to cinders, 
+some with their clothes still smouldering.  The smell of the 
+roasted flesh was a disgusting association for a long time to 
+come.  But the whole was sickening to look at, and still more 
+so, if possible, to reflect upon; for this was the price 
+which so often has been, so often will be, paid for the 
+alluring dream of liberty, and for the pursuit of that 
+mischievous will-o'-the-wisp - jealous Equality.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+VIENNA in the early part of the last century was looked upon 
+as the gayest capital in Europe.  Even the frightful 
+convulsion it had passed through only checked for a while its 
+chronic pursuit of pleasure.  The cynical philosopher might 
+be tempted to contrast this not infrequent accessory of 
+paternal rule with the purity and contentment so fondly 
+expected from a democracy - or shall we say a demagoguey?  
+The cherished hopes of the so-called patriots had been 
+crushed; and many were the worse for the struggle.  But the 
+majority naturally subsided into their customary vocations - 
+beer-drinking, pipe-smoking, music, dancing, and play-going.
+
+The Vienna of 1848 was the Vienna described by Madame de 
+Stael in 1810:  'Dans ce pays, l'on traite les plaisirs comme 
+les devoirs. . . . Vous verrez des hommes et des femmes 
+executer gravement, l'un vis-a-vis de l'autre, les pas d'un 
+menuet dont ils sont impose l'amusement, . . . comme s'il 
+[the couple] dansait pour l'acquit de sa conscience.'
+
+Every theatre and place of amusement was soon re-opened.  
+There was an excellent opera; Strauss - the original - 
+presided over weekly balls and concerts.  For my part, being 
+extremely fond of music, I worked industriously at the 
+violin, also at German.  My German master, Herr Mauthner by 
+name, was a little hump-backed Jew, who seemed to know every 
+man and woman (especially woman) worth knowing in Vienna.  
+Through him I made the acquaintance of several families of 
+the middle class, - amongst them that of a veteran musician 
+who had been Beethoven's favourite flute-player.  As my 
+veneration for Beethoven was unbounded, I listened with awe 
+to every trifling incident relating to the great master.  I 
+fear the conviction left on my mind was that my idol, though 
+transcendent amongst musicians, was a bear amongst men.  
+Pride (according to his ancient associate) was his strong 
+point.  This he vindicated by excessive rudeness to everyone 
+whose social position was above his own.  Even those that did 
+him a good turn were suspected of patronising.  Condescension 
+was a prerogative confined to himself.  In this respect, to 
+be sure, there was nothing singular.
+
+At the house of the old flutist we played family quartets, - 
+he, the father, taking the first violin part on his flute, I 
+the second, the son the 'cello, and his daughter the piano.  
+It was an atmosphere of music that we all inhaled; and my 
+happiness on these occasions would have been unalloyed, had 
+not the young lady - a damsel of six-and-forty - insisted on 
+poisoning me (out of compliment to my English tastes) with a 
+bitter decoction she was pleased to call tea.  This delicate 
+attention, I must say, proved an effectual souvenir till we 
+met again - I dreaded it.
+
+Now and then I dined at the Embassy.  One night I met there 
+Prince Paul Esterhazy, so distinguished by his diamonds when 
+Austrian Ambassador at the coronation of Queen Victoria.  He 
+talked to me of the Holkham sheep-shearing gatherings, at 
+which from 200 to 300 guests sat down to dinner every day, 
+including crowned heads, and celebrities from both sides of 
+the Atlantic.  He had twice assisted at these in my father's 
+time.  He also spoke of the shooting; and promised, if I 
+would visit him in Hungary, he would show me as good sport as 
+had ever seen in Norfolk.  He invited Mr. Magenis - the 
+Secretary of Legation - to accompany me.
+
+The following week we two hired a BRITZCKA, and posted to 
+Eisenstadt.  The lordly grandeur of this last of the feudal 
+princes manifested itself soon after we crossed the Hungarian 
+frontier.  The first sign of it was the livery and badge worn 
+by the postillions.  Posting houses, horses and roads, were 
+all the property of His Transparency.
+
+Eisenstadt itself, though not his principal seat, is a large 
+palace - three sides of a triangle.  One wing is the 
+residence, that opposite the barrack, (he had his own 
+troops,) and the connecting base part museum and part 
+concert-hall.  This last was sanctified by the spirit of 
+Joseph Haydn, for so many years Kapellmeister to the 
+Esterhazy family.  The conductor's stand and his spinet 
+remained intact.  Even the stools and desks in the orchestra 
+(so the Prince assured me) were ancient.  The very dust was 
+sacred.  Sitting alone in the dim space, one could fancy the 
+great little man still there, in his snuff-coloured coat and 
+ruffles, half buried (as on state occasions) in his 'ALLONGE 
+PERUCKE.'  A tap of his magic wand starts into life his 
+quaint old-fashioned band, and the powder flies from their 
+wigs.  Soft, distant, ghostly harmonies of the Surprise 
+Symphony float among the rafters; and now, as in a dream, we 
+are listening to - nay, beholding - the glorious process of 
+Creation; till suddenly the mighty chord is struck, and we 
+are startled from our trance by the burst of myriad voices 
+echoing the command and its fulfilment, 'Let there be light:  
+and there was light.'
+
+Only a family party was assembled in the house.  A Baron 
+something, and a Graf something - both relations, - and the 
+son, afterwards Ambassador at St. Petersburg during the 
+Crimean War.  The latter was married to Lady Sarah Villiers, 
+who was also there.  It is amusing to think that the 
+beautiful daughter of the proud Lady Jersey should be looked 
+upon by the Austrians as somewhat of a MESALLIANCE for one of 
+the chiefs of their nobility.  Certain it is that the young 
+Princess was received by them, till they knew her, with more 
+condescension than enthusiasm.
+
+An air of feudal magnificence pervaded the palace:  spacious 
+reception-rooms hung with armour and trophies of the chase; 
+numbers of domestics in epauletted and belaced, but ill-
+fitting, liveries; the prodigal supply and nationality of the 
+comestibles - wild boar with marmalade, venison and game of 
+all sorts with excellent 'Eingemachtes' and 'Mehlspeisen' 
+galore - a feast for a Gamache or a Gargantua.  But then, all 
+save three, remember, were Germans - and Germans!  Noteworthy 
+was the delicious Chateau Y'quem, of which the Prince 
+declared he had a monopoly - meaning the best, I presume.  
+After dinner the son, his brother-in-law, and I, smoked our 
+meerschaums and played pools of ECARTE in the young Prince's 
+room.  Magenis, who was much our senior, had his rubber 
+downstairs with the elders.
+
+The life was pleasant enough, but there was one little 
+medieval peculiarity which almost made one look for retainers 
+in goat-skins and rushes on the floor, - there was not a bath 
+(except the Princess's) in the palace!  It was with 
+difficulty that my English servant foraged a tub from the 
+kitchen or the laundry.  As to other sanitary arrangements, 
+they were what they doubtless had been in the days of Almos 
+and his son, the mighty Arped.  In keeping with these 
+venerable customs, I had a sentry at the door of my 
+apartments; to protect me, belike, from the ghosts of 
+predatory barons and marauders.
+
+During the week we had two days' shooting; one in the 
+coverts, quite equal to anything of the kind in England, the 
+other at wild boar.  For the latter, a tract of the 
+Carpathian Mountains had been driven for some days before 
+into a wood of about a hundred acres.  At certain points 
+there were sheltered stands, raised four or five feet from 
+the ground, so that the sportsmen had a commanding view of 
+the broad alley or clearing in front of him, across which the 
+stags or boar were driven by an army of beaters.
+
+I had my own double-barrelled rifle; but besides this, a man 
+with a rack on his back bearing three rifles of the prince's, 
+a loader, and a FORSTER, with a hunting knife or short sword 
+to despatch the wounded quarry.  Out of the first rush of 
+pigs that went by I knocked over two; and, in my keenness, 
+jumped out of the stand with the FORSTER who ran to finish 
+them off.  I was immediately collared and brought back; and 
+as far as I could make out, was taken for a lunatic, or at 
+least for a 'duffer,' for my rash attempt to approach unarmed 
+a wounded tusker.  When we all met at the end of the day, the 
+bag of the five guns was forty-five wild boars.  The biggest 
+- and he was a monster - fell to the rifle of the Prince, as 
+was of course intended.
+
+The old man took me home in his carriage.  It was a beautiful 
+drive.  One's idea of an English park - even such a park as 
+Windsor's - dwindled into that of a pleasure ground, when 
+compared with the boundless territory we drove through.  To 
+be sure, it was no more a park than is the New Forest; but it 
+had all the character of the best English scenery - miles of 
+fine turf, dotted with clumps of splendid trees, and gigantic 
+oaks standing alone in their majesty.  Now and then a herd of 
+red deer were startled in some sequestered glade; but no 
+cattle, no sheep, no sign of domestic care.  Struck with the 
+charm of this primeval wilderness, I made some remark about 
+the richness of the pasture, and wondered there were no sheep 
+to be seen.  'There,' said the old man, with a touch of 
+pride, as he pointed to the blue range of the Carpathians; 
+'that is my farm.  I will tell you.  All the celebrities of 
+the day who were interested in farming used to meet at 
+Holkham for what was called the sheep-shearing.  I once told 
+your father I had more shepherds on my farm than there were 
+sheep on his.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+IT WAS with a sorry heart that I bade farewell to my Vienna 
+friends, my musical comrades, the Legation hospitalities, and 
+my faithful little Israelite.  But the colt frisks over the 
+pasture from sheer superfluity of energy; and between one's 
+second and third decades instinctive restlessness - 
+spontaneous movement - is the law of one's being.  'Tis then 
+that 'Hope builds as fast as knowledge can destroy.'  The 
+enjoyment we abandon is never so sweet as that we seek.  
+'Pleasure never is at home.'  Happiness means action for its 
+own sake, change, incessant change.
+
+I sought and found it in Bavaria, Bohemia, Russia, all over 
+Germany, and dropped anchor one day in Cracow; a week 
+afterwards in Warsaw.  These were out-of-the-way places then; 
+there were no tourists in those days; I did not meet a single 
+compatriot either in the Polish or Russian town.
+
+At Warsaw I had an adventure not unlike that which befell me 
+at Vienna.  The whole of Europe, remember, was in a state of 
+political ferment.  Poland was at least as ready to rise 
+against its oppressor then as now; and the police was 
+proportionately strict and arbitrary.  An army corps was 
+encamped on the right bank of the Vistula, ready for expected 
+emergencies.  Under these circumstances, passports, as may be 
+supposed, were carefully inspected; except in those of 
+British subjects, the person of the bearer was described - 
+his height, the colour of his hair (if he had any), or any 
+mark that distinguished him.
+
+In my passport, after my name, was added 'ET SON DOMESTIQUE.'  
+The inspector who examined it at the frontier pointed to 
+this, and, in indifferent German, asked me where that 
+individual was.  I replied that I had sent him with my 
+baggage to Dresden, to await my arrival there.  A 
+consultation thereupon took place with another official, in a 
+language I did not understand; and to my dismay I was 
+informed that I was - in custody.  The small portmanteau I 
+had with me, together with my despatch-box, was seized; the 
+latter contained a quantity of letters and my journal.  Money 
+only was I permitted to retain.
+
+Quite by the way, but adding greatly to my discomfort, was 
+the fact that since leaving Prague, where I had relinquished 
+everything I could dispense with, I had had much night 
+travelling amongst native passengers, who so valued 
+cleanliness that they economised it with religious care.  By 
+the time I reached Warsaw, I may say, without metonymy, that 
+I was itching (all over) for a bath and a change of linen.  
+My irritation, indeed, was at its height.  But there was no 
+appeal; and on my arrival I was haled before the authorities.
+
+Again, their head was a general officer, though not the least 
+like my portly friend at Vienna.  His business was to sit in 
+judgment upon delinquents such as I.  He was a spare, austere 
+man, surrounded by a sharp-looking aide-de-camp, several 
+clerks in uniform, and two or three men in mufti, whom I took 
+to be detectives.  The inspector who arrested me was present 
+with my open despatch-box and journal.  The journal he handed 
+to the aide, who began at once to look it through while his 
+chief was disposing of another case.
+
+To be suspected and dragged before this tribunal was, for the 
+time being (as I afterwards learnt) almost tantamount to 
+condemnation.  As soon as the General had sentenced my 
+predecessor, I was accosted as a self-convicted criminal.  
+Fortunately he spoke French like a Frenchman; and, as it 
+presently appeared, a few words of English.
+
+'What country do you belong to?' he asked, as if the question 
+was but a matter of form, put for decency's sake - a mere 
+prelude to committal.
+
+'England, of course; you can see that by my passport.'  I was 
+determined to fence him with his own weapons.  Indeed, in 
+those innocent days of my youth, I enjoyed a genuine British 
+contempt for foreigners - in the lump - which, after all, is 
+about as impartial a sentiment as its converse, that one's 
+own country is always in the wrong.
+
+'Where did you get it?' (with a face of stone).
+
+PRISONER (NAIVELY): 'Where did I get it?  I do not follow 
+you.'  (Don't forget, please, that said prisoner's apparel 
+was unvaleted, his hands unwashed, his linen unchanged, his 
+hair unkempt, and his face unshaven).
+
+GENERAL (stonily): '"Where did you get it?" was my question.'
+
+PRISONER (quietly): 'From Lord Palmerston.'
+
+GENERAL (glancing at that Minister's signature): 'It says 
+here, "et son domestique" - you have no domestique.'
+
+PRISONER (calmly): 'Pardon me, I have a domestic.'
+
+GENERAL (with severity), 'Where is he?'
+
+PRISONER: 'At Dresden by this time, I hope.'
+
+GENERAL (receiving journal from aide-de-camp, who points to a 
+certain page): 'You state here you were caught by the 
+Austrians in a pretended escape from the Viennese insurgents; 
+and add, "They evidently took me for a spy" [returning 
+journal to aide].  What is your explanation of this?'
+
+PRISONER (shrugging shoulders disdainfully): 'In the first 
+place, the word "pretended" is not in my journal.  In the 
+second, although of course it does not follow, if one takes 
+another person for a man of sagacity or a gentleman - it does 
+not follow that he is either - still, when - '
+
+GENERAL (with signs of impatience): 'I have here a 
+PASSIERSCHEIN, found amongst your papers and signed by the 
+rebels.  They would not have given you this, had you not been 
+on friendly terms with them.  You will be detained until I 
+have further particulars.'
+
+PRISONER (angrily): 'I will assist you, through Her Britannic 
+Majesty's Consul, with whom I claim the right to communicate.  
+I beg to inform you that I am neither a spy nor a socialist, 
+but the son of an English peer' (heaven help the relevancy!).  
+'An Englishman has yet to learn that Lord Palmerston's 
+signature is to be set at naught and treated with contumacy.'
+
+The General beckoned to the inspector to put an end to the 
+proceedings.  But the aide, who had been studying the 
+journal, again placed it in his chief's hands.  A colloquy 
+ensued, in which I overheard the name of Lord Ponsonby.  The 
+enemy seemed to waver, so I charged with a renewed request to 
+see the English Consul.  A pause; then some remarks in 
+Russian from the aide; then the GENERAL (in suaver tones): 
+'The English Consul, I find, is absent on a month's leave.  
+If what you state is true, you acted unadvisedly in not 
+having your passport altered and REVISE when you parted with 
+your servant.  How long do you wish to remain here?'
+
+Said I, 'Vous avez bien raison, Monsieur.  Je suis evidemment 
+dans mon tort.  Ma visite a Varsovie etait une aberration.  
+As to my stay, je suis deja tout ce qu'il y a de plus ennuye.  
+I have seen enough of Warsaw to last for the rest of my 
+days.'
+
+Eventually my portmanteau and despatch-box were restored to 
+me; and I took up my quarters in the filthiest inn (there was 
+no better, I believe) that it was ever my misfortune to lodge 
+at.  It was ancient, dark, dirty, and dismal.  My sitting-
+room (I had a cupboard besides to sleep in) had but one 
+window, looking into a gloomy courtyard.  The furniture 
+consisted of two wooden chairs and a spavined horsehair sofa.  
+The ceiling was low and lamp-blacked; the stained paper fell 
+in strips from the sweating walls; fortunately there was no 
+carpet; but if anything could have added to the occupier's 
+depression it was the sight of his own distorted features in 
+a shattered glass, which seemed to watch him like a detective 
+and take notes of his movements - a real Russian mirror.
+
+But the resources of one-and-twenty are not easily daunted, 
+even by the presence of the CIMEX LECTULARIUS or the PULEX 
+IRRITANS.  I inquired for a LAQUAIS DE PLACE, - some human 
+being to consort with was the most pressing of immediate 
+wants.  As luck would have it, the very article was in the 
+dreary courtyard, lurking spider-like for the innocent 
+traveller just arrived.  Elective affinity brought us at once 
+to friendly intercourse.  He was of the Hebrew race, as the 
+larger half of the Warsaw population still are.  He was a 
+typical Jew (all Jews are typical), though all are not so 
+thin as was Beninsky.  His eyes were sunk in sockets deepened 
+by the sharpness of his bird-of-prey beak; a single corkscrew 
+ringlet dropped tearfully down each cheek; and his one front 
+tooth seemed sometimes in his upper, sometimes in his lower 
+jaw.  His skull-cap and his gabardine might have been 
+heirlooms from the Patriarch Jacob; and his poor hands seemed 
+made for clawing.  But there was a humble and contrite spirit 
+in his sad eyes.  The history of his race was written in 
+them; but it was modern history that one read in their 
+hopeless and appealing look.
+
+His cringing manner and his soft voice (we conversed in 
+German) touched my heart.  I have always had a liking for the 
+Jews.  Who shall reckon how much some of us owe them!  They 
+have always interested me as a peculiar people - admitting 
+sometimes, as in poor Beninsky's case, of purifying, no 
+doubt; yet, if occasionally zealous (and who is not?) of 
+interested works - cent. per cent. works, often - yes, more 
+often than we Christians - zealous of good works, of open-
+handed, large-hearted munificence, of charity in its 
+democratic and noblest sense.  Shame upon the nations which 
+despise and persecute them for faults which they, the 
+persecutors, have begotten!  Shame on those who have extorted 
+both their money and their teeth!  I think if I were a Jew I 
+should chuckle to see my shekels furnish all the wars in 
+which Christians cut one another's Christian weasands.
+
+And who has not a tenderness for the 'beautiful and well-
+favoured' Rachels, and the 'tender-eyed' Leahs, and the 
+tricksy little Zilpahs, and the Rebekahs, from the wife of 
+Isaac of Gerar to the daughter of Isaac of York?  Who would 
+not love to sit with Jessica where moonlight sleeps, and 
+watch the patines of bright gold reflected in her heavenly 
+orbs?  I once knew a Jessica, a Polish Jessica, who - but 
+that was in Vienna, more than half a century ago.
+
+Beninsky's orbs brightened visibly when I bade him break his 
+fast at my high tea.  I ordered everything they had in the 
+house I think, - a cold Pomeranian GANSEBRUST, a garlicky 
+WURST, and GERAUCHERTE LACHS.  I had a packet of my own 
+Fortnum and Mason's Souchong; and when the stove gave out its 
+glow, and the samovar its music, Beninsky's gratitude and his 
+hunger passed the limits of restraint.  Late into the night 
+we smoked our meerschaums.
+
+When I spoke of the Russians, he got up nervously to see the 
+door was shut, and whispered with bated breath.  What a 
+relief it was to him to meet a man to whom he could pour out 
+his griefs, his double griefs, as Pole and Israelite.  Before 
+we parted I made him put the remains of the sausage (!) and 
+the goose-breast under his petticoats.  I bade him come to me 
+in the morning and show me all that was worth seeing in 
+Warsaw.  When he left, with tears in his eyes, I was consoled 
+to think that for one night at any rate he and his GANSEBRUST 
+and sausage would rest peacefully in Abraham's bosom.  What 
+Abraham would say to the sausage I did not ask; nor perhaps 
+did my poor Beninsky.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+THE remainder of the year '49 has left me nothing to tell.  
+For me, it was the inane life of that draff of Society - the 
+young man-about-town:  the tailor's, the haberdasher's, the 
+bootmaker's, and trinket-maker's, young man; the dancing and 
+'hell'-frequenting young man; the young man of the 'Cider 
+Cellars' and Piccadilly saloons; the valiant dove-slayer, the 
+park-lounger, the young lady's young man - who puts his hat 
+into mourning, and turns up his trousers because - because 
+the other young man does ditto, ditto.
+
+I had a share in the Guards' omnibus box at Covent Garden, 
+with the privilege attached of going behind the scenes.  Ah! 
+that was a real pleasure.  To listen night after night to 
+Grisi and Mario, Alboni and Lablache, Viardot and Ronconi, 
+Persiani and Tamburini, - and Jenny Lind too, though she was 
+at the other house.  And what an orchestra was Costa's - with 
+Sainton leader, and Lindley and old Dragonetti, who together 
+but alone, accompanied the RECITATIVE with their harmonious 
+chords on 'cello and double-bass.  Is singing a lost art?  Or 
+is that but a TEMPORIS ACTI question?  We who heard those now 
+silent voices fancy there are none to match them nowadays.  
+Certainly there are no dancers like Taglioni, and Cerito, and 
+Fanny Elsler, and Carlotta Grisi.
+
+After the opera and the ball, one finished the night at 
+Vauxhall or Ranelagh; then as gay, and exactly the same, as 
+they were when Miss Becky Sharpe and fat Jos supped there 
+only five-and-thirty years before.
+
+Except at the Opera, and the Philharmonic, and Exeter Hall, 
+one rarely heard good music.  Monsieur Jullien, that prince 
+of musical mountebanks - the 'Prince of Waterloo,' as John 
+Ella called him, was the first to popularise classical music 
+at his promenade concerts, by tentatively introducing a 
+single movement of a symphony here and there in the programme 
+of his quadrilles and waltzes and music-hall songs.
+
+Mr. Ella, too, furthered the movement with his Musical Union 
+and quartett parties at Willis's Rooms, where Sainton and 
+Cooper led alternately, and the incomparable Piatti and Hill 
+made up the four.  Here Ernst, Sivori, Vieuxtemps, and 
+Bottesini, and Mesdames Schumann, Dulcken, Arabella Goddard, 
+and all the famous virtuosi played their solos.
+
+Great was the stimulus thus given by Ella's energy and 
+enthusiasm.  As a proof of what he had to contend with, and 
+what he triumphed over, Halle's 'Life' may be quoted, where 
+it says:  'When Mr. Ella asked me [this was in 1848] what I 
+wished to play, and heard that it was one of Beethoven's 
+pianoforte sonatas, he exclaimed "Impossible!" and 
+endeavoured to demonstrate that they were not works to be 
+played in public.'  What seven-league boots the world has 
+stridden in within the memory of living men!
+
+John Ella himself led the second violins in Costa's band, and 
+had begun life (so I have been told) as a pastry-cook.  I 
+knew both him and the wonderful little Frenchman 'at home.'  
+According to both, in their different ways, Beethoven and 
+Mozart would have been lost to fame but for their heroic 
+efforts to save them.
+
+I used occasionally to play with Ella at the house of a lady 
+who gave musical parties.  He was always attuned to the 
+highest pitch, - most good-natured, but most excitable where 
+music was to the fore.  We were rehearsing a quintett, the 
+pianoforte part of which was played by the young lady of the 
+house - a very pretty girl, and not a bad musician, but 
+nervous to the point of hysteria.  Ella himself was in a 
+hypercritical state; nothing would go smoothly; and the piano 
+was always (according to him) the peccant instrument.  Again 
+and again he made us restart the movement.  There were a good 
+many friends of the family invited to this last rehearsal, 
+which made it worse for the poor girl, who was obviously on 
+the brink of a breakdown.  Presently Ella again jumped off 
+his chair, and shouted:  'Not E flat!  There's no E flat 
+there; E natural!  E natural!  I never in my life knew a 
+young lady so prolific of flats as you.'  There was a pause, 
+then a giggle, then an explosion; and then the poor girl, 
+bursting into tears, rushed out of the room.
+
+It was at Ella's house that I first heard Joachim, then about 
+sixteen, I suppose.  He had not yet performed in London.  All 
+the musical celebrities were present to hear the youthful 
+prodigy.  Two quartetts were played, Ernst leading one and 
+Joachim the other.  After it was over, everyone was 
+enraptured, but no one more so than Ernst, who unhesitatingly 
+predicted the fame which the great artist has so eminently 
+achieved.
+
+One more amusing little story belongs to my experiences of 
+these days.  Having two brothers and a brother-in-law in the 
+Guards, I used to dine often at the Tower, or the Bank, or 
+St. James's.  At the Bank of England there is always at night 
+an officer's guard.  There is no mess, as the officer is 
+alone.  But the Bank provides dinner for two, in case the 
+officer should invite a friend.  On the occasion I speak of, 
+my brother-in-law, Sir Archibald Macdonald, was on duty.  The 
+soup and fish were excellent, but we were young and hungry, 
+and the usual leg of mutton was always a dish to be looked 
+forward to.
+
+When its cover was removed by the waiter we looked in vain; 
+there was plenty of gravy, but no mutton.  Our surprise was 
+even greater than our dismay, for the waiter swore 'So 'elp 
+his gawd' that he saw the cook put the leg on the dish, and 
+that he himself put the cover on the leg.  'And what did you 
+do with it then?' questioned my host.  'Nothing, S'Archibald.  
+Brought it straight in 'ere.'  'Do you mean to tell me it was 
+never out of your hands between this and the kitchen?'  
+'Never, but for the moment I put it down outside the door to 
+change the plates.'  'And was there nobody in the passage?'  
+'Not a soul, except the sentry.'  'I see,' said my host, who 
+was a quick-witted man.  'Send the sergeant here.'  The 
+sergeant came.  The facts were related, and the order given 
+to parade the entire guard, sentry included, in the passage.
+
+The sentry was interrogated first.  'No, he had not seen 
+nobody in the passage.'  'No one had touched the dish?'  
+'Nobody as ever he seed.'  Then came the orders:  'Attention.  
+Ground arms.  Take off your bear-skins.'  And the truth - 
+I.E., the missing leg - was at once revealed; the sentry had 
+popped it into his shako.  For long after that day, when the 
+guard either for the Tower or Bank marched through the 
+streets, the little blackguard boys used to run beside it and 
+cry, 'Who stole the leg o' mutton?'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+PROBABLY the most important historical event of the year '49 
+was the discovery of gold in California, or rather, the great 
+Western Exodus in pursuit of it.  A restless desire possessed 
+me to see something of America, especially of the Far West.  
+I had an hereditary love of sport, and had read and heard 
+wonderful tales of bison, and grisly bears, and wapitis.  No 
+books had so fascinated me, when a boy, as the 'Deer-slayer,' 
+the 'Pathfinder,' and the beloved 'Last of the Mohicans.'  
+Here then was a new field for adventure.  I would go to 
+California, and hunt my way across the continent.  Ruxton's 
+'Life in the Far West' inspired a belief in self-reliance and 
+independence only rivalled by Robinson Crusoe.  If I could 
+not find a companion, I would go alone.  Little did I dream 
+of the fortune which was in store for me, or how nearly I 
+missed carrying out the scheme so wildly contemplated, or 
+indeed, any scheme at all.
+
+The only friend I could meet with both willing and able to 
+join me was the last Lord Durham.  He could not undertake to 
+go to California; but he had been to New York during his 
+father's reign in Canada, and liked the idea of revisiting 
+the States.  He proposed that we should spend the winter in 
+the West Indies, and after some buffalo-shooting on the 
+plains, return to England in the autumn.
+
+The notion of the West Indies gave rise to an off-shoot.  
+Both Durham and I were members of the old Garrick, then but a 
+small club in Covent Garden.  Amongst our mutual friends was 
+Andrew Arcedeckne - pronounced Archdeacon - a character to 
+whom attaches a peculiar literary interest, of which anon.  
+Arcedeckne - Archy, as he was commonly called - was about a 
+couple of years older than we were.  He was the owner of 
+Glevering Hall, Suffolk, and nephew of Lord Huntingfield.  
+These particulars, as well as those of his person, are note-
+worthy, as it will soon appear.
+
+Archy - 'Merry Andrew,' as I used to call him, - owned one of 
+the finest estates in Jamaica - Golden Grove.  When he heard 
+of our intended trip, he at once volunteered to go with us.  
+He had never seen Golden Grove, but had often wished to visit 
+it.  Thus it came to pass that we three secured our cabins in 
+one of the West India mailers, and left England in December 
+1849.
+
+To return to our little Suffolk squire.  The description of 
+his figure, as before said, is all-important, though the 
+world is familiar with it, as drawn by the pencil of a master 
+caricaturist.  Arcedeckne was about five feet three inches, 
+round as a cask, with a small singularly round face and head, 
+closely cropped hair, and large soft eyes, - in a word, so 
+like a seal, that he was as often called 'Phoca' as Archy.
+
+Do you recognise the portrait?  Do you need the help of 
+'Glevering Hall' (how curious the suggestion!).  And would 
+you not like to hear him talk?  Here is a specimen in his 
+best manner.  Surely it must have been taken down by a 
+shorthand writer, or a phonograph:
+
+MR. HARRY FOKER LOQUITUR: 'He inquired for Rincer and the 
+cold in his nose, told Mrs. Rincer a riddle, asked Miss 
+Rincer when she would be prepared to marry him, and paid his 
+compliments to Miss Brett, another young lady in the bar, all 
+in a minute of time, and with a liveliness and facetiousness 
+which set all these young ladies in a giggle.  "Have a drop, 
+Pen:  it's recommended by the faculty, &c.  Give the young 
+one a glass, R., and score it up to yours truly."'
+
+I fancy the great man who recorded these words was more 
+afraid of Mr. Harry PHOCA than of any other man in the 
+Garrick Club - possibly for the reason that honest Harry was 
+not the least bit afraid of him.  The shy, the proud, the 
+sensitive satirist would steal quietly into the room, 
+avoiding notice as though he wished himself invisible.  Phoca 
+would be warming his back at the fire, and calling for a 
+glass of 'Foker's own.'  Seeing the giant enter, he would 
+advance a step or two, with a couple of extended fingers, and 
+exclaim, quite affably, 'Ha! Mr. Thackry! litary cove!  Glad 
+to see you, sir.  How's Major Dobbings?' and likely enough 
+would turn to the waiter, and bid him, 'Give this gent a 
+glass of the same, and score it up to yours truly!'  We have 
+his biographer's word for it, that he would have winked at 
+the Duke of Wellington, with just as little scruple.
+
+Yes, Andrew Arcedeckne was the original of Harry Foker; and, 
+from the cut of his clothes to his family connection, and to 
+the comicality, the simplicity, the sweetness of temper 
+(though hardly doing justice to the loveableness of the 
+little man), the famous caricature fits him to a T.
+
+The night before we left London we had a convivial dinner at 
+the Garrick - we three travellers, with Albert Smith, his 
+brother, and John Leech.  It was a merry party, to which all 
+contributed good fellowship and innocent jokes.  The latest 
+arrival at the Zoo was the first hippopotamus that had 
+reached England, - a present from the Khedive.  Someone 
+wondered how it had been caught.  I suggested a trout-fly; 
+which so tickled John Leech's fancy that he promised to draw 
+it for next week's 'Punch.'  Albert Smith went with us to 
+Southampton to see us off.
+
+On our way to Jamaica we stopped a night at Barbadoes to 
+coal.  Here I had the honour of making the acquaintance of 
+the renowned Caroline Lee! - Miss Car'line, as the negroes 
+called her.  She was so pleased at the assurance that her 
+friend Mr. Peter Simple had spread her fame all the world 
+over, that she made us a bowl of the most delicious iced 
+sangaree; and speedily got up a 'dignity ball' for our 
+entertainment.  She was rather too much of an armful to dance 
+with herself, but there was no lack of dark beauties, (not a 
+white woman or white man except ourselves in the room.)  We 
+danced pretty nearly from daylight to daylight.  The blending 
+of rigid propriety, of the severest 'dignity,' with the 
+sudden guffaw and outburst of wildest spirits and comic 
+humour, is beyond description, and is only to be met with 
+amongst these ebullient children of the sun.
+
+On our arrival at Golden Grove, there was a great turn-out of 
+the natives to welcome their young lord and 'massa.'  Archy 
+was touched and amused by their frantic loyalty.  But their 
+mode of exhibiting it was not so entirely to his taste.  Not 
+only the young, but the old women wanted to hug him.  'Eigh!  
+Dat you, Massa?  Dat you, sar? Me no believe him.  Out o' de 
+way, you trash!  Eigh! me too much pleased like devil.' The 
+one constant and spontaneous ejaculation was, 'Yah! Massa too 
+muchy handsome!  Garamighty!  Buckra berry fat!'  The latter 
+attribute was the source of genuine admiration; but the 
+object of it hardly appreciated its recognition, and waved 
+off his subjects with a mixture of impatience and alarm.
+
+We had scarcely been a week at Golden Grove, when my two 
+companions and Durham's servant were down with yellow fever.  
+Being 'salted,' perhaps, I escaped scot-free, so helped 
+Archy's valet and Mr. Forbes, his factor, to nurse and to 
+carry out professional orders.  As we were thirty miles from 
+Kingston the doctor could only come every other day.  The 
+responsibility, therefore, of attending three patients 
+smitten with so deadly a disease was no light matter.  The 
+factor seemed to think discretion the better part of valour, 
+and that Jamaica rum was the best specific for keeping his 
+up.  All physicians were SANGRADOS in those days, and when 
+the Kingston doctor decided upon bleeding, the hysterical 
+state of the darky girls (we had no men in the bungalow 
+except Durham's and Archy's servants) rendered them worse 
+than useless.  It fell to me, therefore, to hold the basin 
+while Archy's man was attending to his master.
+
+Durham, who had nerves of steel, bore his lot with the grim 
+stoicism which marked his character.  But at one time the 
+doctor considered his state so serious that he thought his 
+lordship's family should be informed of it.  Accordingly I 
+wrote to the last Lord Grey, his uncle and guardian, stating 
+that there was little hope of his recovery.  Poor Phoca was 
+at once tragic and comic.  His medicine had to be 
+administered every, two hours.  Each time, he begged and 
+prayed in lacrymose tones to be let off.  It was doing him no 
+good.  He might as well be allowed to die in peace.  If we 
+would only spare him the beastliness this once, on his honour 
+he would take it next time 'like a man.'  We were inexorable, 
+of course, and treated him exactly as one treats a child.
+
+At last the crisis was over.  Wonderful to relate, all three 
+began to recover.  During their convalescence, I amused 
+myself by shooting alligators in the mangrove swamps at 
+Holland Bay, which was within half an hour's ride of the 
+bungalow.  It was curious sport.  The great saurians would 
+lie motionless in the pools amidst the snake-like tangle of 
+mangrove roots.  They would float with just their eyes and 
+noses out of water, but so still that, without a glass, 
+(which I had not,) it was difficult to distinguish their 
+heads from the countless roots and rotten logs around them.  
+If one fired by mistake, the sport was spoiled for an hour to 
+come.
+
+I used to sit watching patiently for one of them to show 
+itself, or for something to disturb the glassy surface of the 
+dark waters.  Overhead the foliage was so dense that the heat 
+was not oppressive.  All Nature seemed asleep.  The deathlike 
+stillness was rarely broken by the faintest sound, - though 
+unseen life, amidst the heat and moisture, was teeming 
+everywhere; life feeding upon life.  For what purpose?  To 
+what end?  Is this a primary law of Nature?  Does cannibalism 
+prevail in Mars?  Sometimes a mocking-bird would pipe its 
+weird notes, deepening silence by the contrast.  But besides 
+pestilent mosquitos, the only living things in sight were 
+humming-birds of every hue, some no bigger than a butterfly, 
+fluttering over the blossoms of the orchids, or darting from 
+flower to flower like flashes of prismatic rays.
+
+I killed several alligators; but one day, while stalking what 
+seemed to be an unusual monster, narrowly escaped an 
+accident.  Under the excitement, my eye was so intently fixed 
+upon the object, that I rather felt than saw my way.  
+Presently over I went, just managed to save my rifle, and, to 
+my amazement, found I had set my foot on a sleeping reptile.  
+Fortunately the brute was as much astonished as I was, and 
+plunged with a splash into the adjacent pool.
+
+A Cambridge friend, Mr. Walter Shirley, owned an estate at 
+Trelawny, on the other side of Jamaica; while the invalids 
+were recovering, I paid him a visit; and was initiated into 
+the mysteries of cane-growing and sugar-making.  As the great 
+split between the Northern and Southern States on the 
+question of slavery was pending, the life, condition, and 
+treatment of the negro was of the greatest interest.  Mr. 
+Shirley was a gentleman of exceptional ability, and full of 
+valuable information on these subjects.  He passed me on to 
+other plantations; and I made the complete round of the 
+island before returning to my comrades at Golden Grove.  A 
+few weeks afterwards I stayed with a Spanish gentleman, the 
+Marquis d'Iznaga, who owned six large sugar plantations in 
+Cuba; and rode with his son from Casilda to Cienfuegos, from 
+which port I got a steamer to the Havana.  The ride afforded 
+abundant opportunities of comparing the slave with the free 
+negro.  But, as I have written on the subject elsewhere, I 
+will pass to matters more entertaining.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+
+ON my arrival at the Havana I found that Durham, who was 
+still an invalid, had taken up his quarters at Mr. 
+Crauford's, the Consul-General.  Phoca, who was nearly well 
+again, was at the hotel, the only one in the town.  And who 
+should I meet there but my old Cambridge ally, Fred, the last 
+Lord Calthorpe.  This event was a fruitful one, - it 
+determined the plans of both of us for a year or more to 
+come.
+
+Fred - as I shall henceforth call him - had just returned 
+from a hunting expedition in Texas, with another sportsman 
+whom he had accidentally met there.  This gentleman 
+ultimately became of even more importance to me than my old 
+friend.  I purposely abstain from giving either his name or 
+his profession, for reasons which will become obvious enough 
+by-and-by; the outward man may be described.  He stood well 
+over six  feet in his socks; his frame and limbs were those 
+of a gladiator; he could crush a horseshoe in one hand; he 
+had a small head with a bull-neck, purely Grecian features, 
+thick curly hair with crisp beard and silky moustache.  He so 
+closely resembled a marble Hercules that (as he must have a 
+name) we will call him Samson.
+
+Before Fred stumbled upon him, he had spent a winter camping 
+out in the snows of Canada, bear and elk shooting.  He was 
+six years or so older than either of us - I.E. about eight-
+and-twenty.
+
+As to Fred Calthorpe, it would be difficult to find a more 
+'manly' man.  He was unacquainted with fear.  Yet his 
+courage, though sometimes reckless, was by no means of the 
+brute kind.  He did not run risks unless he thought the gain 
+would compensate them; and no one was more capable of 
+weighing consequences than he.  His temper was admirable, his 
+spirits excellent; and for any enterprise where danger and 
+hardship were to be encountered few men could have been 
+better qualified.  By the end of a week these two had agreed 
+to accompany me across the Rocky Mountains.
+
+Before leaving the Havana, I witnessed an event which, though 
+disgusting in itself, gives rise to serious reflections.  
+Every thoughtful reader is conversant enough with them; if, 
+therefore, he should find them out of place or trite, apology 
+is needless, as he will pass them by without the asking.
+
+The circumstance referred to is a public execution.  Mr. 
+Sydney Smith, the vice-consul, informed me that a criminal 
+was to be garrotted on the following morning; and asked me 
+whether I cared to look over the prison and see the man in 
+his cell that afternoon.  We went together.  The poor wretch 
+bore the stamp of innate brutality.  His crime was the most 
+revolting that a human being is capable of - the violation 
+and murder of a mere child.  When we were first admitted he 
+was sullen, merely glaring at us; but, hearing the warder 
+describe his crime, he became furiously abusive, and worked 
+himself into such a passion that, had he not been chained to 
+the wall, he would certainly have attacked us.
+
+At half-past six next morning I went with Mr. Smith to the 
+Campo del Marte, the principal square.  The crowd had already 
+assembled, and the tops of the houses were thronged with 
+spectators.  The women, dressed as if for a bull-fight or a 
+ball, occupied the front seats.  By squeezing and pushing we 
+contrived to get within eight or nine yards of the machine, 
+where I had not long been before the procession was seen 
+moving up the Passeo.  A few mounted troops were in front to 
+clear the road; behind them came the Host, with a number of 
+priests and the prisoner on foot, dressed in white; a large 
+guard brought up the rear.  The soldiers formed an open 
+square.  The executioner, the culprit, and one priest 
+ascended the steps of the platform.
+
+The garrotte is a short stout post, at the top of which is an 
+iron crook, just wide enough to admit the neck of a man 
+seated in a chair beneath it.  Through the post, parallel 
+with the crook, is the loop of a rope, whose ends are 
+fastened to a bar held by the executioner.  The loop, being 
+round the throat of the victim, is so powerfully tightened 
+from behind by half a turn of the bar, that an extra twist 
+would sever a man's head from his body.
+
+The murderer showed no signs of fear; he quietly seated 
+himself, but got up again to adjust the chair and make 
+himself comfortable!  The executioner then arranged the rope 
+round his neck, tied his legs and his arms, and retired 
+behind the post.  At a word or a look from the priest the 
+wrench was turned.  For a single instant the limbs of the 
+victim were convulsed, and all was over.
+
+No exclamation, no whisper of horror escaped from the lookers 
+on.  Such a scene was too familiar to excite any feeling but 
+morbid curiosity; and, had the execution taken place at the 
+usual spot instead of in the town, few would have given 
+themselves the trouble to attend it.
+
+It is impossible to see or even to think of what is here 
+described without gravely meditating on its suggestions.  Is 
+capital punishment justifiable?  This is the question I 
+purpose to consider in the following chapter.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+
+ALL punishments or penal remedies for crime, except capital 
+punishment, may be considered from two points of view:  
+First, as they regard Society; secondly, as they regard the 
+offender.
+
+Where capital punishment is resorted to, the sole end in view 
+is the protection of Society.  The malefactor being put to 
+death, there can be no thought of his amendment.  And so far 
+as this particular criminal is concerned, Society is 
+henceforth in safety.
+
+But (looking to the individual), as equal security could be 
+obtained by his imprisonment for life, the extreme measure of 
+putting him to death needs justification.  This is found in 
+the assumption that death being the severest of all 
+punishments now permissible, no other penalty is so 
+efficacious in preventing the crime or crimes for which it is 
+inflicted.  Is the assumption borne out by facts, or by 
+inference?
+
+For facts we naturally turn to statistics.  Switzerland 
+abolished capital punishment in 1874; but cases of 
+premeditated murder having largely increased during the next 
+five years, it was restored by Federal legislation in 1879.  
+Still there is nothing conclusive to be inferred from this 
+fact.  We must seek for guidance elsewhere.
+
+Reverting to the above assumption, we must ask:  First, Is 
+the death punishment the severest of all evils, and to what 
+extent does the fear of it act as a preventive?  Secondly, Is 
+it true that no other punishment would serve as powerfully in 
+preventing murder by intimidation?
+
+Is punishment by death the most dreaded of all evils?  'This 
+assertion,' says Bentham, 'is true with respect to the 
+majority of mankind; it is not true with respect to the 
+greatest criminals.'  It is pretty certain that a malefactor 
+steeped in crime, living in extreme want, misery and 
+apprehension, must, if he reflects at all, contemplate a 
+violent end as an imminent possibility.  He has no better 
+future before him, and may easily come to look upon death 
+with brutal insensibility and defiance.  The indifference 
+exhibited by the garrotted man getting up to adjust his chair 
+is probably common amongst criminals of his type.
+
+Again, take such a crime as that of the Cuban's:  the passion 
+which leads to it is the fiercest and most ungovernable which 
+man is subject to.  Sexual jealousy also is one of the most 
+frequent causes of murder.  So violent is this passion that 
+the victim of it is often quite prepared to sacrifice life 
+rather than forego indulgence, or allow another to supplant 
+him; both men and women will gloat over the murder of a 
+rival, and gladly accept death as its penalty, rather than 
+survive the possession of the desired object by another.
+
+Further, in addition to those who yield to fits of passion, 
+there is a class whose criminal promptings are hereditary:  a 
+large number of unfortunates of whom it may almost be said 
+that they were destined to commit crimes.  'It is unhappily a 
+fact,' says Mr. Francis Galton ('Inquiries into Human 
+Faculty'), 'that fairly distinct types of criminals breeding 
+true to their kind have become established.'  And he gives 
+extraordinary examples, which fully bear out his affirmation.  
+We may safely say that, in a very large number of cases, the 
+worst crimes are perpetrated by beings for whom the death 
+penalty has no preventive terrors.
+
+But it is otherwise with the majority.  Death itself, apart 
+from punitive aspects, is a greater evil to those for whom 
+life has greater attractions.  Besides this, the permanent 
+disgrace of capital punishment, the lasting injury to the 
+criminal's family and to all who are dear to him, must be far 
+more cogent incentives to self-control than the mere fear of 
+ceasing to live.
+
+With the criminal and most degraded class - with those who 
+are actuated by violent passions and hereditary taints, the 
+class by which most murders are committed - the death 
+punishment would seem to be useless as an intimidation or an 
+example.
+
+With the majority it is more than probable that it exercises 
+a strong and beneficial influence.  As no mere social 
+distinction can eradicate innate instincts, there must be a 
+large proportion of the majority, the better-to-do, who are 
+both occasionally and habitually subject to criminal 
+propensities, and who shall say how many of these are 
+restrained from the worst of crimes by fear of capital 
+punishment and its consequences?
+
+On these grounds, if they be not fallacious, the retention of 
+capital punishment may be justified.
+
+Secondly.  Is the assumption tenable that no other penalty 
+makes so strong an impression or is so pre-eminently 
+exemplary?  Bentham thus answers the question:  'It appears 
+to me that the contemplation of perpetual imprisonment, 
+accompanied with hard labour and occasional solitary 
+confinement, would produce a deeper impression on the minds 
+of persons in whom it is more eminently desirable that that 
+impression should be produced than even death itself. . . . 
+All that renders death less formidable to them renders 
+laborious restraint proportionably more irksome.'  There is 
+doubtless a certain measure of truth in these remarks.  But 
+Bentham is here speaking of the degraded class; and is it 
+likely that such would reflect seriously upon what they never 
+see and only know by hearsay?  Think how feeble are their 
+powers of imagination and reflection, how little they would 
+be impressed by such additional seventies as 'occasional 
+solitary confinement,' the occurrence and the effects of 
+which would be known to no one outside the jail.
+
+As to the 'majority,' the higher classes, the fact that men 
+are often imprisoned for offences - political and others - 
+which they are proud to suffer for, would always attenuate 
+the ignominy attached to 'imprisonment.'  And were this the 
+only penalty for all crimes, for first-class misdemeanants 
+and for the most atrocious of criminals alike, the 
+distinction would not be very finely drawn by the interested; 
+at the most, the severest treatment as an alternative to 
+capital punishment would always savour of extenuating 
+circumstances.
+
+There remain two other points of view from which the question 
+has to be considered:  one is what may be called the 
+Vindictive, the other, directly opposed to it, the 
+Sentimental argument.  The first may be dismissed with a word 
+or two.  In civilised countries torture is for ever 
+abrogated; and with it, let us hope, the idea of judicial 
+vengeance.
+
+The LEX TALIONIS - the Levitic law - 'Eye for eye, tooth for 
+tooth,' is befitting only for savages.  Unfortunately the 
+Christian religion still promulgates and passionately clings 
+to the belief in Hell as a place or state of everlasting 
+torment - that is to say, of eternal torture inflicted for no 
+ultimate end save that of implacable vengeance.  Of all the 
+miserable superstitions ever hatched by the brain of man 
+this, as indicative of its barbarous origin, is the most 
+degrading.  As an ordinance ascribed to a Being worshipped as 
+just and beneficent, it is blasphemous.
+
+The Sentimental argument, like all arguments based upon 
+feeling rather than reason, though not without merit, is 
+fraught with mischief which far outweighs it.  There are 
+always a number of people in the world who refer to their 
+feelings as the highest human tribunal.  When the reasoning 
+faculty is not very strong, the process of ratiocination 
+irksome, and the issue perhaps unacceptable, this course 
+affords a convenient solution to many a complicated problem.  
+It commends itself, moreover, to those who adopt it, by the 
+sense of chivalry which it involves.  There is something 
+generous and noble, albeit quixotic, in siding with the weak, 
+even if they be in the wrong.  There is something charitable 
+in the judgment, 'Oh! poor creature, think of his adverse 
+circumstances, his ignorance, his temptation.  Let us be 
+merciful and forgiving.'  In practice, however, this often 
+leads astray.  Thus in most cases, even where premeditated 
+murder is proved to the hilt, the sympathy of the 
+sentimentalist is invariably with the murderer, to the 
+complete oblivion of the victim's family.
+
+Bentham, speaking of the humanity plea, thus words its 
+argument:  'Attend not to the sophistries of reason, which 
+often deceive, but be governed by your hearts, which will 
+always lead you right.  I reject without hesitation the 
+punishment you propose:  it violates natural feelings, it 
+harrows up the susceptible mind, it is tyrannical and cruel.'  
+Such is the language of your sentimental orators.
+
+'But abolish any one penal law merely because it is repugnant 
+to the feelings of a humane heart, and, if consistent, you 
+abolish the whole penal code.  There is not one of its 
+provisions that does not, in a more or less painful degree, 
+wound the sensibility.'
+
+As this writer elsewhere observes:  'It is only a virtue when 
+justice has done its work, &c.  Before this, to forgive 
+injuries is to invite their perpetration - is to be, not the 
+friend, but the enemy of society.  What could wickedness 
+desire more than an arrangement by which offences should be 
+always followed by pardon?'
+
+Sentiment is the ULTIMA RATIO FEMINARUM, and of men whose 
+natures are of the epicene gender.  It is a luxury we must 
+forego in the face of the stern duties which evil compels us 
+to encounter.
+
+There is only one other argument against capital punishment 
+that is worth considering.
+
+The objection so strenuously pleaded by Dickens in his 
+letters to the 'Times' - viz. the brutalising effects upon 
+the degraded crowds which witnessed public executions - is no 
+longer apposite.  But it may still be urged with no little 
+force that the extreme severity of the sentence induces all 
+concerned in the conviction of the accused to shirk the 
+responsibility.  Informers, prosecutors, witnesses, judges, 
+and jurymen are, as a rule, liable to reluctance as to the 
+performance of their respective parts in the melancholy 
+drama.'  The consequence is that 'the benefit of the doubt,' 
+while salving the consciences of these servants of the law, 
+not unfrequently turns a real criminal loose upon society; 
+whereas, had any other penalty than death been feasible, the 
+same person would have been found guilty.
+
+Much might be said on either side, but on the whole it would 
+seem wisest to leave things - in this country - as they are; 
+and, for one, I am inclined to the belief that,
+
+
+Mercy murders, pardoning those that kill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+
+WE were nearly six weeks in the Havana, being detained by 
+Lord Durham's illness.  I provided myself with a capital 
+Spanish master, and made the most of him.  This, as it turned 
+out, proved very useful to me in the course of my future 
+travels.  About the middle of March we left for Charlestown 
+in the steamer ISABEL, and thence on to New York.  On the 
+passage to Charlestown, we were amused one evening by the 
+tricks of a conjuror.  I had seen the man and his wife 
+perform at the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly.  She was called the 
+'Mysterious Lady.'  The papers were full of speculations as 
+to the nature of the mystery.  It was the town talk and 
+excitement of the season.
+
+This was the trick.  The lady sat in the corner of a large 
+room, facing the wall, with her eyes bandaged.  The company 
+were seated as far as possible from her.  Anyone was invited 
+to write a few words on a slip of paper, and hand it to the 
+man, who walked amongst the spectators.  He would simply say 
+to the woman 'What has the gentleman (or lady) written upon 
+this paper?'  Without hesitation she would reply correctly.  
+The man was always the medium.  One person requested her, 
+through the man, to read the number on his watch, the figures 
+being, as they always are, very minute.  The man repeated the 
+question:  'What is the number on this watch?'  The woman, 
+without hesitation, gave it correctly.  A friend at my side, 
+a young Guardsman, took a cameo ring from his finger, and 
+asked for a description of the figures in relief.  There was 
+a pause.  The woman was evidently perplexed.  She confessed 
+at last that she was unable to answer.  The spectators 
+murmured.  My friend began to laugh.  The conjuror's bread 
+was at stake, but he was equal to the occasion.  He at once 
+explained to the company that the cameo represented 'Leeder 
+and the Swan in a hambigious position, which the lady didn't 
+profess to know nothing about.'  This apology, needless to 
+say, completely re-established the lady's character.
+
+Well, recognising my friend of the Egyptian Hall, I reminded 
+him of the incident.  He remembered it perfectly; and we fell 
+to chatting about the wonderful success of the 'mystery,' and 
+about his and the lady's professional career.  He had begun 
+life when a boy as a street acrobat, had become a street 
+conjuror, had married the 'mysterious lady' out of the 'saw-
+dust,' as he expressed it - meaning out of a travelling 
+circus.  After that, 'things had gone 'ard' with them.  They 
+had exhausted their resources in every sense.  One night, 
+lying awake, and straining their brains to devise some means 
+of subsistence, his wife suddenly exclaimed, 'How would it be 
+if we were to try so and so?' explaining the trick just 
+described.  His answer was:  'Oh! that's too silly.  They'd 
+see through it directly.'  This was all I could get out of 
+him:  this, and the fact that the trick, first and last, had 
+made them fairly comfortable for the rest of their days.
+
+Now mark what follows, for it is the gist and moral of my 
+little story about this conjuror, and about two other miracle 
+workers whom I have to speak of presently.
+
+Once upon a time, I was discussing with an acquaintance the 
+not unfamiliar question of Immortality.  I professed 
+Agnosticism - strongly impregnated with incredulity.  My 
+friend had no misgivings, no doubts on the subject whatever.  
+Absolute certainty is the prerogative of the orthodox.  He 
+had taken University honours, and was a man of high position 
+at the Bar.  I was curious to learn upon what grounds such an 
+one based his belief.  His answer was:  'Upon the phenomena 
+of electro-biology, and the psychic phenomena of mesmerism.'  
+His 'first convictions were established by the manifestations 
+of the soul as displayed through a woman called "The 
+Mysterious Lady," who, &c., &c.'
+
+When we have done with our thaumaturgist on board the ISABEL, 
+I will give another instance, precisely similar to this, of 
+the simple origin of religious beliefs.
+
+The steamer was pretty full; and the conjuror begged me to 
+obtain the patronage of my noble friend and the rest of our 
+party for an entertainment he proposed to give that evening.  
+This was easily secured, and a goodly sum was raised by 
+dollar tickets.  The sleight-of-hand was excellent.  But the 
+special performance of the evening deserves description in 
+full.  It was that of a whist-playing dog.  Three passengers 
+- one of us taking a hand - played as in dummy whist, dummy's 
+hand being spread in a long row upon the deck of the saloon 
+cabin.  The conjuror, as did the other passengers, walked 
+about behind the players, and saw all the players' hands, but 
+not a word was spoken.  The dog played dummy's hand.  When it 
+came to his turn he trotted backwards and forwards, smelling 
+each card that had been dealt to him.  He sometimes 
+hesitated, then comically shaking his head, would leave it to 
+smell another.  The conjuror stood behind the dog's partner, 
+and never went near the animal.  There was no table - the 
+cards were thrown on the deck.  They were dealt by the 
+players; the conjuror never touched them.  When the dog's 
+mind was made up, he took his card in his mouth and laid it 
+on the others.  His play was infallible.  He and his partner 
+won the rubber with ease.
+
+Now, to those ignorant of the solution, this must, I think, 
+seem inexplicable.  How was collusion managed between the 
+animal and its master?  One of the conditions insisted upon 
+by the master himself was silence.  He certainly never broke 
+it.  I bought the trick - must I confess it? for twenty 
+dollars.  How transparent most things are when - seen 
+through!  When the dog smelt at the right card, the conjuror, 
+who saw all four hands, and had his own in his pocket, 
+clicked his thumb-nail against a finger-nail.  The dog alone 
+could hear it, and played the card accordingly.
+
+The other story:  A few years after my return to England, a 
+great friend called upon me, and, in an excited state, 
+described a SEANCE he had had with a woman who possessed the 
+power of 'invoking' spirits.  These spirits had correctly 
+replied to questions, the answers to which were only known to 
+himself.  The woman was an American.  I am sorry to say I 
+have forgotten her name, but I think she was the first of her 
+tribe to visit this country.  As in the case spoken of, my 
+friend was much affected by the results of the SEANCE.  He 
+was a well-educated and intelligent man.  Born to wealth, he 
+had led a somewhat wildish life in his youth.  Henceforth he 
+became more serious, and eventually turned Roman Catholic.  
+He entreated me to see the woman, which I did.
+
+I wrote to ask for an appointment.  She lived in Charlotte 
+Street, Fitzroy Square; but on the day after the morrow she 
+was to change her lodgings to Queen Anne Street, where she 
+would receive me at 11 A.M.  I was punctual to a minute, and 
+was shown into an ordinary furnished room.  The maid informed 
+me that Mrs. - had not yet arrived from Charlotte Street, but 
+she was sure to come before long, as she had an engagement 
+(so she said) with a gentleman.
+
+Nothing could have suited me better.  I immediately set to 
+work to examine the room and the furniture with the greatest 
+care.  I looked under and moved the sofa, tables, and 
+armchairs.  I looked behind the curtains, under the rug, and 
+up the chimney.  I could discover nothing.  There was not the 
+vestige of a spirit anywhere.  At last the medium entered - a 
+plain, middle-aged matron with nothing the least spiritual 
+about her.  She seated herself opposite to me at the round 
+table in the centre of the room, and demurely asked what I 
+wanted.  'To communicate with the spirits,' I replied.  She 
+did not know whether that was possible.  It depended upon the 
+person who sought them.  She would ask the spirits whether 
+they would confer with me.  Whereupon she put the question:  
+'Will the spirits converse with this gentleman?'  At all 
+events, thought I, the term 'gentleman' applies to the next 
+world, which is a comfort.  She listened for the answer.  
+Presently three distinct raps on the table signified assent.  
+She then took from her reticule a card whereon were printed 
+the alphabet, and numerals up to 10.  The letters were 
+separated by transverse lines.  She gave me a pencil with 
+these instructions:  I was to think, not utter, my question, 
+and then put the pencil on each of the letters in succession.  
+When the letters were touched which spelt the answer, the 
+spirits would rap, and the words could be written down.
+
+My friend had told me this much, so I came prepared.  I began 
+by politely begging the lady to move away from the table at 
+which we were seated, and take a chair in the furthest corner 
+of the room.  She indignantly complied, asking if I suspected 
+her.  I replied that 'all ladies were dangerous, when they 
+were charming,' which put us on the best of terms.  I placed 
+my hat so as to intercept her view of my operations, and thus 
+pursued them.
+
+Thinking the matter over beforehand, I concluded that when 
+the questioner, of either sex, was young, love would very 
+probably be the topic; the flesh, not the spirit, would be 
+the predominant interest.  Being an ingenuous young man of 
+the average sort, and desperately in love with Susan, let us 
+say, I should naturally assist the supernatural being, if at 
+a loss, to understand that the one thing wanted was 
+information about Susan.  I therefore mentally asked the 
+question:  'Who is the most lovely angel without wings, and 
+with the means of sitting down?' and proceeded to pass the 
+pencil over the letters, pausing nowhere.  I now and then got 
+a doubtful rap on or under the table, - how delivered I know 
+not - but signifying nothing.  It was clear the spirits 
+needed a cue.  I put the pencil on the letter S, and kept it 
+there.  I got a tentative rap.  I passed at once to U.  I got 
+a more confident rap.  Then to S. Rap, rap, without 
+hesitation.  A and N were assented to almost before I touched 
+them.  Susan was an angel - the angel.  What more logical 
+proof could I have of the immortality of the soul?
+
+Mrs. - asked me whether I was satisfied.  I said it was 
+miraculous; so much so indeed, that I could hardly believe 
+the miracle, until corroborated by another.  Would the 
+spirits be kind enough to suspend this pencil in the air?  
+'Oh! that was nonsense.  The spirits never lent themselves to 
+mere frivolity.'  'I beg the spirits' pardon, I am sure,' 
+said I.  'I have heard that they often move heavy tables.  I 
+thought perhaps the pencil would save them trouble.  Will 
+they move this round table up to this little one?'  I had, be 
+it observed, when alone, moved and changed the relative 
+positions of both tables; and had determined to make this my 
+crucial test.  To my astonishment, Mrs. - replied that she 
+could not say whether they would or not.  She would ask them.  
+She did so, and the spirits rapped 'Yes.'
+
+I drew my chair aside.  The woman remained seated in the 
+corner.  I watched everything.  Nothing happened.  After a 
+while, I took out my watch, and said:  'I fear the spirits do 
+not intend to keep their word.  I have an appointment twenty 
+minutes hence, and can only give them ten minutes more.'  She 
+calmly replied she had nothing to do with it.  I had heard 
+what the spirits said.  I had better wait a little longer.  
+Scarcely were the words out of her mouth, when the table gave 
+a distinct crack, as if about to start.  The medium instantly 
+called my attention to it.  I jumped out of my seat, passed 
+between the two tables, when of a sudden the large table 
+moved in the direction of the smaller one, and did not stop 
+till it had pushed the little one over.  I make no comments.  
+No explanation to me is conceivable.  I simply narrate what 
+happened as accurately as I am able.
+
+One other case deserves to be added to the above.  I have 
+connected both of the foregoing with religious persuasions.  
+The SEANCE I am about to speak of was for the express purpose 
+of bringing a brokenhearted and widowed mother into 
+communication with the soul of her only son - a young artist 
+of genius whom I had known, and who had died about a year 
+before.  The occasion was, of course, a solemn one.  The 
+interest of it was enhanced by the presence of the great 
+apostle of Spiritualism - Sir William Crookes.  The medium 
+was Miss Kate Fox, again an American.  The SEANCE took place 
+in the house of a very old friend of mine, the late Dr. 
+George Bird.  He had spiritualistic tendencies, but was 
+supremely honest and single-minded; utterly incapable of 
+connivance with deception of any kind.  As far as I know, the 
+medium had never been in the room before.  The company 
+present were Dr. Bird's intimate friend Sir William Crookes - 
+future President of the Royal Society - Miss Bird, Dr. Bird's 
+daughter, and her husband - Mr. Ionides - and Mrs. -, the 
+mother of the young artist.  The room, a large one, was 
+darkened; the last light being extinguished after we had 
+taken our places round the dining-table.  We were strenuously 
+enjoined to hold one another's hands.  Unless we did so the 
+SEANCE would fail.
+
+Before entering the room, I secretly arranged with Mr. 
+Ionides, who shared my scepticism, that we should sit side by 
+side; and so each have one hand free.  It is not necessary to 
+relate what passed between the unhappy mother and the medium, 
+suffice it to say that she put questions to her son; and the 
+medium interpreted the rappings which came in reply.  These, 
+I believe, were all the poor lady could wish for.  To the 
+rest of us, the astounding events of the SEANCE were the dim 
+lights, accompanied by faint sounds of an accordion, which 
+floated about the room over our heads.  And now comes, to me, 
+the strangest part of the whole performance.  All the while I 
+kept my right arm extended under the table, moving my hand to 
+and fro.  Presently it touched something.  I make a grab, and 
+caught, but could not hold for an instant, another hand.  It 
+was on the side away from Mr. Ionides.  I said nothing, 
+except to him, and the SEANCE was immediately broken up.
+
+It may be thought by some that this narration is a biassed 
+one.  But those acquainted with the charlatanry in these days 
+of what is called 'Christian Science,' and know the extent to 
+which crass ignorance and predisposed credulity can be duped 
+by childish delusions, may have some 'idea how acute was the 
+spirit-rapping epidemic some forty or fifty years ago.  'At 
+this moment,' writes Froude, in 'Fraser's Magazine,' 1863, 
+'we are beset with reports of conversations with spirits, of 
+tables miraculously lifted, of hands projecting out of the 
+world of shadows into this mortal life.  An unusually able, 
+accomplished person, accustomed to deal with common-sense 
+facts, a celebrated political economist, and notorious for 
+business-like habits, assured this writer that a certain 
+mesmerist, who was my informer's intimate friend, had raised 
+a dead girl to life.'  Can we wonder that miracles are still 
+believed in?  Ah! no.  The need, the dire need, of them 
+remains, and will remain with us for ever.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+
+WE must move on; we have a long and rough journey before us.  
+Durham had old friends in New York, Fred Calthorpe had 
+letters to Colonel Fremont, who was then a candidate for the 
+Presidency, and who had discovered the South Pass; and Mr. 
+Ellice had given me a letter to John Jacob Astor - THE 
+American millionaire of that day.  We were thus well provided 
+with introductions; and nothing could exceed the kindness and 
+hospitality of our American friends.
+
+But time was precious.  It was already mid May, and we had 
+everything to get - wagons, horses, men, mules, and 
+provisions.  So that we were anxious not to waste a day, but 
+hurry on to St. Louis as fast as we could.  Durham was too 
+ill to go with us.  Phoca had never intended to do so.  Fred, 
+Samson, and I, took leave of our companions, and travelling 
+via the Hudson to Albany, Buffalo, down Lake Erie, and across 
+to Chicago, we reached St. Louis in about eight days.  As a 
+single illustration of what this meant before railroads, 
+Samson and I, having to stop a day at Chicago, hired a buggy 
+and drove into the neighbouring woods, or wilderness, to hunt 
+for wild turkeys.
+
+Our outfit, the whole of which we got at St. Louis, consisted 
+of two heavy wagons, nine mules, and eight horses.  We hired 
+eight men, on the nominal understanding that they were to go 
+with us as far as the Rocky Mountains on a hunting 
+expedition.  In reality all seven of them, before joining us, 
+had separately decided to go to California.
+
+Having published in 1852 an account of our journey, entitled 
+'A Ride over the Rocky Mountains,' I shall not repeat the 
+story, but merely give a summary of the undertaking, with a 
+few of the more striking incidents to show what travelling 
+across unknown America entailed fifty or sixty years ago.
+
+A steamer took us up the Missouri to Omaha.  Here we 
+disembarked on the confines of occupied territory.  From near 
+this point, where the Platte river empties into the Missouri, 
+to the mouth of the Columbia, on the Pacific - which we 
+ultimately reached - is at least 1,500 miles as the crow 
+flies; for us (as we had to follow watercourses and avoid 
+impassable ridges) it was very much more.  Some five-and-
+forty miles from our starting-place we passed a small village 
+called Savannah.  Between it and Vancouver there was not a 
+single white man's abode, with the exception of three trading 
+stations - mere mud buildings - Fort Laramie, Fort Hall, and 
+Fort Boise.
+
+The vast prairies on this side of the Rocky Mountains were 
+grazed by herds of countless bison, wapiti, antelope, and 
+deer of various species.  These were hunted by moving tribes 
+of Indians - Pawnees, Omahaws, Cheyennes, Ponkaws, Sioux, &c.  
+On the Pacific side of the great range, a due west course - 
+which ours was as near as we could keep it - lay across a 
+huge rocky desert of volcanic debris, where hardly any 
+vegetation was to be met with, save artemisia - a species of 
+wormwood - scanty blades of gramma grass, and occasional 
+osiers by river-banks.  The rivers themselves often ran 
+through canons or gulches, so deep that one might travel for 
+days within a hundred feet of water yet perish (some of our 
+animals did so) for the want of a drop to drink.  Game was 
+here very scarce - a few antelope, wolves, and abundance of 
+rattlesnakes, were nearly the only living things we saw.  The 
+Indians were mainly fishers of the Shoshone - or Great Snake 
+River - tribe, feeding mostly on salmon, which they speared 
+with marvellous dexterity; and Root-diggers, who live upon 
+wild roots.  When hard put to it, however, in winter, the 
+latter miserable creatures certainly, if not the former, 
+devoured their own children.  There was no map of the 
+country.  It was entirely unexplored; in fact, Bancroft the 
+American historian, in his description of the Indian tribes, 
+quotes my account of the Root-diggers; which shows how little 
+was known of this region up to this date.  I carried a small 
+compass fastened round my neck.  That and the stars (we 
+travelled by night when in the vicinity of Indians) were my 
+only guides for hundreds of dreary miles.
+
+Such then was the task we had set ourselves to grapple with.  
+As with life itself, nothing but the magic powers of youth 
+and ignorance could have cajoled us to face it with heedless 
+confidence and eager zest.  These conditions given, with 
+health - the one essential of all enjoyment - added, the 
+first escape from civilised restraint, the first survey of 
+primordial nature as seen in the boundless expanse of the 
+open prairie, the habitat of wild men and wild animals, - 
+exhilarate one with emotions akin to the schoolboy's rapture 
+in the playground, and the thoughtful man's contemplation of 
+the stars.  Freedom and change, space and the possibilities 
+of the unknown, these are constant elements of our day-
+dreams; now and then actual life dangles visions of them 
+before our eyes, alas! only to teach us that the aspirations 
+which they inspire are, for the most part, illusory.
+
+Brief indeed, in our case, were the pleasures of novelty.  
+For the first few days the business was a continuous picnic 
+for all hands.  It was a pleasure to be obliged to help to 
+set up the tents, to cut wood, to fetch water, to harness the 
+mules, and work exactly as the paid men worked.  The equality 
+in this respect - that everything each wanted done had to be 
+done with his own hands - was perfect; and never, from first 
+to last, even when starvation left me bare strength to lift 
+the saddle on to my horse, did I regret the necessity, or 
+desire to be dependent on another man.  But the bloom soon 
+wore off the plum; and the pleasure consisted not in doing 
+but in resting when the work was done.
+
+For the reason already stated, a sample only of the daily 
+labour will be given.  It may be as well first to bestow a 
+few words upon the men; for, in the long run, our fellow 
+beings are the powerful factors, for good or ill, in all our 
+worldly enterprises.
+
+We had two ordinary mule-drivers - Potter and Morris, a 
+little acrobat out of a travelling circus, a METIF or half-
+breed Indian named Jim, two French Canadians - Nelson and 
+Louis (the latter spoke French only); Jacob, a Pennsylvanian 
+auctioneer whose language was a mixture of Dutch, Yankee, and 
+German; and (after we reached Fort Laramie) another Nelson - 
+'William' as I shall call him - who offered his services 
+gratis if we would allow him to go with us to California.
+
+Jacob the Dutch Yankee was the most intelligent and the most 
+useful of the lot, and was unanimously elected cook for the 
+party.  The Canadian Nelson was a hard-working good young 
+fellow, with a passionate temper.  Louis was a hunter by 
+profession, Gallic to the tip of his moustache - fond of 
+slapping his breast and telling of the mighty deeds of NOUS 
+AUTRES EN HAUT.  Jim, the half-breed was Indian by nature - 
+idle, silent, treacherous, but a crafty hunter.  William 
+deserves special mention, not from any idiosyncrasy of the 
+man, but because he was concerned soon after he joined us in 
+the most disastrous of my adventures throughout the 
+expedition.
+
+To look at, William Nelson might have sat for the portrait of 
+Leatherstocking.  He was a tall gaunt man who had spent his 
+youth bringing rafts of timber down the Wabash river, from 
+Fort Wayne to Maumee, in Ohio.  For the last six years (he 
+was three-and-thirty) he had been trapping musk rats and 
+beaver, and dealing in pelts generally.  At the time of our 
+meeting he was engaged to a Miss Mary something - the 
+daughter of an English immigrant, who would not consent to 
+the marriage until William was better off.  He was now bound 
+for California, where he hoped to make the required fortune.  
+The poor fellow was very sentimental about his Mary; but, 
+despite his weatherbeaten face, hardy-looking frame, and his 
+'longue carabine,' he was scarcely the hero which, no doubt, 
+Miss Mary took him for.
+
+Yes, the novelty soon wore off.  We had necessaries enough to 
+last to California.  We also had enough unnecessaries to 
+bring us to grief in a couple of weeks.  Our wagons were 
+loaded to the roof.  And seeing there was no road nor so much 
+as a track, that there were frequent swamps and small rivers 
+to be crossed, that our Comanche mules were wilder than the 
+Indians who had owned them, it may easily be believed that 
+our rate of progress did not average more than six or seven 
+miles a day; sometimes it took from dawn to dusk to cross a 
+stream by ferrying our packages, and emptied wagons, on such 
+rafts as could be extemporised.  Before the end of a 
+fortnight, both wagons were shattered, wheels smashed, and 
+axles irreparable.  The men, who were as refractory as the 
+other animals, helped themselves to provisions, tobacco and 
+whisky, at their own sweet will, and treated our 
+remonstrances with resentment and contempt.
+
+Heroic measures were exigent.  The wagons were broken up and 
+converted into pack saddles.  Both tents, masses of 
+provisions, 100 lbs. of lead for bullets, kegs of powder, 
+warm clothing, mackintoshes, waterproof sheeting, tarpaulins, 
+medicine chest, and bags of sugar, were flung aside to waste 
+their sweetness on the desert soil.  Not one of us had ever 
+packed a saddle before; and certainly not one of the mules 
+had ever carried, or to all appearances, ever meant to carry, 
+a pack.  It was a fight between man and beast every day - 
+twice a day indeed, for we halted to rest and feed, and had 
+to unpack and repack our remaining impedimenta in payment for 
+the indulgence.
+
+Let me cite a page from my diary.  It is a fair specimen of 
+scores of similar entries.
+
+'JUNE 24TH. - My morning watch.  Up at 1 A.M.  Roused the men 
+at 3.30.  Off at 7.30.  Rained hard all day.  Packs slipped 
+or kicked off eighteen times before halt.  Men grumbling.  
+Nelson and Jim both too ill to work.  When adjusting pack, 
+Nelson and Louis had a desperate quarrel.  Nelson drew his 
+knife and nearly stabbed Louis.  I snatched a pistol out of 
+my holster, and threatened to shoot Nelson unless he shut up.  
+Fred, of course, laughed obstreperously at the notion of my 
+committing murder, which spoilt the dramatic effect.
+
+'Oh! these devils of mules!  After repacking, they rolled, 
+they kicked and bucked, they screamed and bit, as though we 
+were all in Hell, and didn't know it.  It took four men to 
+pack each one; and the moment their heads were loosed, away 
+they went into the river, over the hills, and across country 
+as hard as they could lay legs to ground.  It was a cheerful 
+sight! - the flour and biscuit stuff swimming about in the 
+stream, the hams in a ditch full of mud, the trailed pots and 
+pans bumping and rattling on the ground until they were as 
+shapeless as old wide-awakes.  And, worst of all, the pack-
+saddles, which had delayed us a week to make - nothing now 
+but a bundle of splinters.
+
+'25TH. - What a night!  A fearful storm broke over us.  All 
+round was like a lake.  Fred and I sat, back to back, perched 
+on a flour bag till daylight, with no covering but our 
+shooting jackets, our feet in a pool, and bodies streaming 
+like cascades.  Repeated lightning seemed to strike the 
+ground within a few yards of us.  The animals, wild with 
+terror, stampeded in all directions.  In the morning, lo and 
+behold!  Samson on his back in the water, insensibly drunk.  
+At first I thought he was dead; but he was only dead drunk.  
+We can't move till he can, unless we bequeath him to the 
+wolves, which are plentiful.  This is the third time he has 
+served us the same trick.  I took the liberty to ram my heel 
+through the whisky keg (we have kept a small one for 
+emergencies) and put it empty under his head for a pillow.'
+
+There were plenty of days and nights to match these, but 
+there were worse in store for us.
+
+One evening, travelling along the North Platte river, before 
+reaching Laramie, we overtook a Mormon family on their way to 
+Salt Lake city.  They had a light covered wagon with hardly 
+anything in it but a small supply of flour and bacon.  It was 
+drawn by four oxen and two cows.  Four milch cows were 
+driven.  The man's name was Blazzard - a Yorkshireman from 
+the Wolds, whose speech was that of Learoyd.  He had only his 
+wife and a very pretty daughter of sixteen or seventeen with 
+him.  We asked him how he became a Mormon.  He answered:  
+'From conviction,' and entreated us to be baptized in the 
+true faith at his hands.  The offer was tempting, for the 
+pretty little milkmaid might have become one of one's wives 
+on the spot.  In truth the sweet nymph urged conversion more 
+persuasively than her papa - though with what views who shall 
+say?  The old farmer's acquaintance with the Bible was 
+remarkable.  He quoted it at every sentence, and was eloquent 
+upon the subject of the meaning and the origin of the word 
+'Bible.'  He assured us the name was given to the Holy Book 
+from the circumstance of its contents having passed a synod 
+of prophets, just as an Act of Parliament passes the House of 
+Commons - BY BILL.  Hence its title.  It was this historical 
+fact that guaranteed the authenticity of the sacred volume.  
+There are various reasons for believing - this is one of 
+them.
+
+The next day, being Sunday, was spent in sleep.  In the 
+afternoon I helped the Yorkshire lassie to herd her cattle, 
+which had strayed a long distance amongst the rank herbage by 
+the banks of the Platte.  The heat was intense, well over 120 
+in the sun; and the mosquitos rose in clouds at every step in 
+the wet grass.  It was an easy job for me, on my little grey, 
+to gallop after the cows and drive them home, (it would have 
+been a wearisome one for her,) and she was very grateful, and 
+played Dorothea to my Hermann.  None of our party wore any 
+upper clothing except a flannel shirt; I had cut off the 
+sleeves of mine at the elbow.  This was better for rough 
+work, but the broiling sun had raised big blisters on my arms 
+and throat which were very painful.  When we got back to 
+camp, Dorothea laved the burns for me with cool milk.  Ah! 
+she was very pretty; and, what 'blackguard'  Heine, as 
+Carlyle dubs him, would have called 'naive schmutzig.'  When 
+we parted next morning I thought with a sigh that before the 
+autumn was over, she would be in the seraglio of Mr. Brigham 
+Young; who, Artemus Ward used to say, was 'the most married 
+man he ever knew.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+
+SPORT had been the final cause of my trip to America - sport 
+and the love of adventure.  As the bison - buffalo, as they 
+are called - are now extinct, except in preserved districts, 
+a few words about them as they then were may interest game 
+hunters of the present day.
+
+No description could convey an adequate conception of the 
+numbers in which they congregated.  The admirable 
+illustrations in Catlin's great work on the North American 
+Indians, afford the best idea to those who have never seen 
+the wonderful sight itself.  The districts they frequented 
+were vast sandy uplands sparsely covered with the tufty 
+buffalo or gramma grass.  These regions were always within 
+reach of the water-courses; to which morning and evening the 
+herds descended by paths, after the manner of sheep or cattle 
+in a pasture.  Never shall I forget the first time I 
+witnessed the extraordinary event of the evening drink.  
+Seeing the black masses galloping down towards the river, by 
+the banks of which our party were travelling, we halted some 
+hundred yards short of the tracks.  To have been caught 
+amongst the animals would have been destruction; for, do what 
+they would to get out of one's way, the weight of the 
+thousands pushing on would have crushed anything that impeded 
+them.  On the occasion I refer to we approached to within 
+safe distance, and fired into them till the ammunition in our 
+pouches was expended.
+
+As examples of our sporting exploits, three days taken almost 
+at random will suffice.  The season was so far advanced that, 
+unless we were to winter at Fort Laramie, it was necessary to 
+keep going.  It was therefore agreed that whoever left the 
+line of march - that is, the vicinity of the North Platte - 
+for the purpose of hunting should take his chance of catching 
+up the rest of the party, who were to push on as speedily as 
+possible.  On two of the days which I am about to record this 
+rule nearly brought me into trouble.  I quote from my 
+journal:
+
+'Left camp to hunt by self.  Got a shot at some deer lying in 
+long grass on banks of a stream.  While stalking, I could 
+hardly see or breathe for mosquitos; they were in my eyes, 
+nose, and mouth.  Steady aim was impossible; and, to my 
+disgust, I missed the easiest of shots.  The neck and flanks 
+of my little grey are as red as if painted.  He is weak from 
+loss of blood.  Fred's head is now so swollen he cannot wear 
+his hard hat; his eyes are bunged up, and his face is comic 
+to look at.  Several deer and antelopes; but ground too 
+level, and game too wild to let one near.  Hardly caring what 
+direction I took, followed outskirts of large wood, four or 
+five miles away from the river.  Saw a good many summer 
+lodges; but knew, by the quantity of game, that the Indians 
+had deserted them.  In the afternoon came suddenly upon deer; 
+and singling out one of the youngest fawns, tried to run it 
+down.  The country being very rough, I found it hard work to 
+keep between it and the wood.  First, my hat blew off; then a 
+pistol jumped out of the holster; but I was too near to give 
+up, - meaning to return for these things afterwards.  Two or 
+three times I ran right over the fawn, which bleated in the 
+most piteous manner, but always escaped the death-blow from 
+the grey's hoofs.  By degrees we edged nearer to the thicket, 
+when the fawn darted down the side of a bluff, and was lost 
+in the long grass and brushwood, I followed at full speed; 
+but, unable to arrest the impetus of the horse, we dashed 
+headlong into the thick scrub, and were both thrown with 
+violence to the ground.  I was none the worse; but the poor 
+beast had badly hurt his shoulder, and for the time was dead 
+lame.
+
+'For an hour at least I hunted, for my pistol.  It was much 
+more to me than my hat.  It was a huge horse pistol, that 
+threw an ounce ball of exactly the calibre of my double 
+rifle.  I had shot several buffaloes with it, by riding close 
+to them in a chase; and when in danger of Indians I loaded it 
+with slugs.  At last I found it.  It was getting late; and I 
+didn't rightly know where I was.  I made for the low country.  
+But as we camped last night at least two miles from the 
+river, on account of the swamps, the difficulty was to find 
+the tracks.  The poor little grey and I hunted for it in 
+vain.  The wet ground was too wet, the dry ground too hard, 
+to show the tracks in the now imperfect light.
+
+'The situation was a disagreeable one:  it might be two or 
+three days before I again fell in with my friends.  I had not 
+touched food since the early morning, and was rather done.  
+To return to the high ground was to give up for the night; 
+but that meant another day behind the cavalcade, with 
+diminished chance of overtaking it.  Through the dusk I saw 
+what I fancied was something moving on a mound ahead of me 
+which arose out of the surrounding swamp.  I spurred on, but 
+only to find the putrid carcase of a buffalo, with a wolf 
+supping on it.  The brute was gorged, and looked as sleek as 
+"die schone Frau Giermund"; but, unlike Isegrim's spouse, she 
+was free to escape, for she wasn't worth a bullet.  I was so 
+famished, that I examined the carcase with the hope of 
+finding a cut that would last for a day or two; my nose 
+wouldn't have it.  I plodded on, the water up to the saddle-
+girths.  The mosquitos swarmed in millions, and the poor 
+little grey could hardly get one leg before the other.  I, 
+too, was so feverish that, ignorant of bacteria, I filled my 
+round hat with the filthy stagnant water, and drank it at a 
+draught.
+
+'At last I made for higher ground.  It was too dark to hunt 
+for tracks, so I began to look out for a level bed.  Suddenly 
+my beast, who jogged along with his nose to the ground, gave 
+a loud neigh.  We had struck the trail.  I threw the reins on 
+his neck, and left matters to his superior instincts.  In 
+less than half an hour the joyful light of a camp fire 
+gladdened my eyes.  Fred told me he had halted as soon as he 
+was able, not on my account only, but because he, too, had 
+had a severe fall, and was suffering great pain from a 
+bruised knee.'
+
+Here is an ordinary example of buffalo shooting:
+
+'JULY 2ND. - Fresh meat much wanted.  With Jim the half-breed 
+to the hills.  No sooner on high ground than we sighted game.  
+As far as eye could reach, right away to the horizon, the 
+plain was black with buffaloes, a truly astonishing sight.  
+Jim was used to it.  I stopped to spy them with amazement.  
+The nearest were not more than half a mile off, so we 
+picketed our horses under the sky line; and choosing the 
+hollows, walked on till crawling became expedient.  As is 
+their wont, the outsiders were posted on bluffs or knolls in 
+a commanding position; these were old bulls.  To my 
+inexperience, our chance of getting a shot seemed small; for 
+we had to cross the dipping ground under the brow whereon the 
+sentinels were lying.  Three extra difficulties beset us - 
+the prairie dogs (a marmot, so called from its dog-like bark 
+when disturbed) were all round us, and bolted into their 
+holes like rabbits directly they saw us coming; two big grey 
+wolves, the regular camp followers of a herd, were prowling 
+about in a direct line between us and the bulls; lastly, the 
+cows, though up and feeding, were inconveniently out of 
+reach.  (The meat of the young cow is much preferred to that 
+of the bull.)  Jim, however, was confident.  I followed my 
+leader to a wink.  The only instruction I didn't like when we 
+started crawling on the hot sand was "Look out for 
+rattlesnakes."
+
+'The wolves stopped, examined us suspiciously, then quietly 
+trotted off.  What with this and the alarm of the prairie 
+dogs, an old bull, a patriarch of the tribe, jumped up and 
+walked with majestic paces to the top of the knoll.  We lay 
+flat on our faces, till he, satisfied with the result of his 
+scrutiny, resumed his recumbent posture; but with his head 
+turned straight towards us.  Jim, to my surprise, stealthily 
+crawled on.  In another minute or two we had gained a point 
+whence we could see through the grass without being seen.  
+Here we rested to recover breath.  Meanwhile, three or four 
+young cows fed to within sixty or seventy yards of us.  
+Unluckily we both selected the same animal, and both fired at 
+the same moment.  Off went the lot helter skelter, all save 
+the old bull, who roared out his rage and trotted up close to 
+our hiding place.
+
+'"Look out for a bolt," whispered Jim, "but don't show 
+yourself nohow till I tell you."
+
+'For a minute or two the suspense was exciting.  One hardly 
+dared to breathe.  But his majesty saw us not, and turned 
+again to his wives.  We instantly reloaded; and the startled 
+herd, which had only moved a few yards, gave us the chance of 
+a second shot.  The first cow had fallen dead almost where 
+she stood.  The second we found at the foot of the hill, also 
+with two bullet wounds behind the shoulder.  The tongues, 
+humps, and tender loins, with some other choice morsels, were 
+soon cut off and packed, and we returned to camp with a grand 
+supply of beef for Jacob's larder.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+
+AT the risk of being tedious, I will tell of one more day's 
+buffalo hunting, to show the vicissitudes of this kind of 
+sport.  Before doing so we will glance at another important 
+feature of prairie life, a camp of Sioux Indians.
+
+One evening, after halting on the banks of the Platte, we 
+heard distant sounds of tomtoms on the other side of the 
+river.  Jim, the half-breed, and Louis differed as to the 
+tribe, and hence the friendliness or hostility, of our 
+neighbours.  Louis advised saddling up and putting the night 
+between us; he regaled us to boot with a few blood-curdling 
+tales of Indian tortures, and of NOUS AUTRES EN HAUT.  Jim 
+treated these with scorn, and declared he knew by the 'tunes' 
+(!) that the pow-wow was Sioux.  Just now, he asserted, the 
+Sioux were friendly, and this 'village' was on its way to 
+Fort Laramie to barter 'robes' (buffalo skins) for blankets 
+and ammunition.  He was quite willing to go over and talk to 
+them if we had no objection.
+
+Fred, ever ready for adventure, would have joined him in a 
+minute; but the river, which was running strong, was full of 
+nasty currents, and his injured knee disabled him from 
+swimming.  No one else seemed tempted; so, following Jim's 
+example, I stripped to my flannel shirt and moccasins, and 
+crossed the river, which was easier to get into than out of, 
+and soon reached the 'village.'  Jim was right, - they were 
+Sioux, and friendly.  They offered us a pipe of kinik (the 
+dried bark of the red willow), and jabbered away with their 
+kinsman, who seemed almost more at home with them than with 
+us.
+
+Seeing one of their 'braves' with three fresh scalps at his 
+belt, I asked for the history of them.  In Sioux gutturals 
+the story was a long one.  Jim's translation amounted to 
+this:  The scalps were 'lifted' from two Crows and a Ponkaw.  
+The Crows, it appeared, were the Sioux' natural enemies 
+'anyhow,' for they occasionally hunted on each other's 
+ranges.  But the Ponkaw, whom he would not otherwise have 
+injured, was casually met by him on a horse which the Sioux 
+recognised for a white man's.  Upon being questioned how he 
+came by it, the Ponkaw simply replied that it was his own.  
+Whereupon the Sioux called him a liar; and proved it by 
+sending an arrow through his body.
+
+I didn't quite see it.  But then, strictly speaking, I am no 
+collector of scalps.  To preserve my own, I kept the hair on 
+it as short as a tooth-brush.
+
+Before we left, our hosts fed us on raw buffalo meat.  This, 
+cut in slices, and dried crisp in the sun, is excellent.  
+Their lodges were very comfortable, most of them large enough 
+to hold a dozen people.  The ground inside was covered with 
+buffalo robes; and the sewn skins, spread tight upon the 
+converging poles, formed a tent stout enough to defy all 
+weathers.  In winter the lodge can be entirely closed; and 
+when a fire is kindled in the centre, the smoke escaping at a 
+small hole where the poles join, the snugness is complete.
+
+At the entrance of one of these lodges I watched a squaw and 
+her child prepare a meal.  When the fuel was collected, a fat 
+puppy, playing with the child, was seized by the squaw, and 
+knocked on the throat - not head - with a stick.  The puppy 
+was then returned, kicking, to the tender mercies of the 
+infant; who exerted its small might to add to the animal's 
+miseries, while the mother fed the fire and filled a kettle 
+for the stew.  The puppy, much more alive than dead, was held 
+by the hind leg over the flames as long as the squaw's 
+fingers could stand them.  She then let it fall on the 
+embers, where it struggled and squealed horribly, and would 
+have wriggled off, but for the little savage, who took good 
+care to provide for the satisfactory singeing of its 
+playmate.
+
+Considering the length of its lineage, how remarkably hale 
+and well preserved is our own barbarity!
+
+We may now take our last look at the buffaloes, for we shall 
+see them no more.  Again I quote my journal:
+
+'JULY 5TH. - Men sulky because they have nothing to eat but 
+rancid ham, and biscuit dust which has been so often soaked 
+that it is mouldy and sour.  They are a dainty lot!  Samson 
+and I left camp early with the hopes of getting meat.  While 
+he was shooting prairie dogs his horse made off, and cost me 
+nearly an hour's riding to catch.  Then, accidentally letting 
+go of my mustang, he too escaped; and I had to run him down 
+with the other.  Towards evening, spied a small band of 
+buffaloes, which we approached by leading our horses up a 
+hollow.  They got our wind, however, and were gone before we 
+were aware of it.  They were all young, and so fast, it took 
+a twenty minutes' gallop to come up with them.  Samson's 
+horse put his foot in a hole, and the cropper they both got 
+gave the band a long start, as it became a stern chase, and 
+no heading off.
+
+'At length I managed to separate one from the herd by firing 
+my pistol into the "brown," and then devoted my efforts to 
+him alone.  Once or twice he turned and glared savagely 
+through his mane.  When quite isolated he pulled up short, so 
+did I. We were about sixty yards apart.  I flung the reins 
+upon the neck of the mustang, who was too blown to stir, and 
+handling my rifle, waited for the bull to move so that I 
+might see something more than the great shaggy front, which 
+screened his body.  But he stood his ground, tossing up the 
+sand with his hoofs.  Presently, instead of turning tail, he 
+put his head down, and bellowing with rage, came at me as 
+hard as he could tear.  I had but a moment for decision, - to 
+dig spurs into the mustang, or risk the shot.  I chose the 
+latter; paused till I was sure of his neck, and fired when he 
+was almost under me.  In an instant I was sent flying; and 
+the mustang was on his back with all four legs in the air.
+
+'The bull was probably as much astonished as we were.  His 
+charge had carried him about thirty yards, at most, beyond 
+us.  There he now stood; facing me, pawing the ground and 
+snorting as before.  Badly wounded I knew him to be, - that 
+was the worst of it; especially as my rifle, with its 
+remaining loaded barrel, lay right between us.  To hesitate 
+for a second only, was to lose the game.  There was no time 
+to think of bruises; I crawled, eyes on him, straight for my 
+weapon:  got it - it was already cocked, and the stock 
+unbroken - raised my knee for a rest.  We were only twenty 
+yards apart (the shot meant death for one of the two), and 
+just catching a glimpse of his shoulder-blade, I pulled.  I 
+could hear the thud of the heavy bullet, and - what was 
+sweeter music - the ugh! of the fatal groan.  The beast 
+dropped on his knees, and a gush of blood spurted from his 
+nostrils.
+
+'But the wild devil of a mustang? that was my first thought 
+now.  Whenever one dismounted, it was necessary to loosen his 
+long lariat, and let it trail on the ground.  Without this 
+there was no chance of catching him.  I saw at once what had 
+happened:  by the greatest good fortune, at the last moment, 
+he must have made an instinctive start, which probably saved 
+his life, and mine too.  The bull's horns had just missed his 
+entrails and my leg, - we were broadside on to the charge, - 
+and had caught him in the thigh, below the hip.  There was a 
+big hole, and he was bleeding plentifully.  For all that, he 
+wouldn't let me catch him.  He could go faster on three legs 
+than I on two.
+
+'It was getting dark, I had not touched food since starting, 
+nor had I wetted my lips.  My thirst was now intolerable.  
+The travelling rule, about keeping on, was an ugly incubus.  
+Samson would go his own ways - he had sense enough for that - 
+but how, when, where, was I to quench my thirst?  Oh! for the 
+tip of Lazarus' finger - or for choice, a bottle of Bass - to 
+cool my tongue!  Then too, whither would the mustang stray in 
+the night if I rested or fell asleep?  Again and again I 
+tried to stalk him by the starlight.  Twice I got hold of his 
+tail, but he broke away.  If I drove him down to the river 
+banks the chance of catching him would be no better, and I 
+should lose the dry ground to rest on.
+
+'It was about as unpleasant a night as I had yet passed.  
+Every now and then I sat down, and dropped off to sleep from 
+sheer exhaustion.  Every time this happened I dreamed of 
+sparkling drinks; then woke with a start to a lively sense of 
+the reality, and anxious searches for the mustang.
+
+'Directly the day dawned I drove the animal, now very stiff, 
+straight down for the Platte.  He wanted water fully as much 
+as his master; and when we sighted it he needed no more 
+driving.  Such a hurry was he in that, in his rush for the 
+river, he got bogged in the muddy swamp at its edge.  I 
+seized my chance, and had him fast in a minute.  We both 
+plunged into the stream; I, clothes and all, and drank, and 
+drank, and drank.'
+
+That evening I caught up the cavalcade.
+
+How curious it is to look back upon such experiences from a 
+different stage of life's journey!  How would it have fared 
+with me had my rifle exploded with the fall? it was knocked 
+out of my hands at full cock.  How if the stock had been 
+broken?  It had been thrown at least ten yards.  How if the 
+horn had entered my thigh instead of the horse's?  How if I 
+had fractured a limb, or had been stunned, or the bull had 
+charged again while I was creeping up to him?  Any one, or 
+more than one, of these contingencies were more likely to 
+happen than not.  But nothing did happen, save - the best.
+
+Not a thought of the kind ever crossed my mind, either at the 
+time or afterwards.  Yet I was not a thoughtless man, only an 
+average man.  Nine Englishmen out of ten with a love of sport 
+- as most Englishmen are - would have done, and have felt, 
+just as I did.  I was bruised and still; but so one is after 
+a run with hounds.  I had had many a nastier fall hunting in 
+Derbyshire.  The worst that could happen did not happen; but 
+the worst never - well, so rarely does.  One might shoot 
+oneself instead of the pigeon, or be caught picking forbidden 
+fruit.  Narrow escapes are as good as broad ones.  The truth 
+is, when we are young, and active, and healthy, whatever 
+happens, of the pleasant or lucky kind, we accept as a matter 
+of course.
+
+Ah! youth! youth!  If we only knew when we were well off, 
+when we were happy, when we possessed all that this world has 
+to give!  If we but knew that love is only a matter of course 
+so long as youth and its bounteous train is ours, we might 
+perhaps make the most of it, and give up looking for - 
+something better.  But what then?  Give up the 'something 
+better'?  Give up pursuit, - the effort that makes us strong?  
+'Give up the sweets of hope'?   No! 'tis better as it is, 
+perhaps.  The kitten plays with its tail, and the nightingale 
+sings; but they think no more of happiness than the rose-bud 
+of its beauty.  May be happiness comes not of too much 
+knowing, or too much thinking either.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+
+FORT LARAMIE was a military station and trading post 
+combined.  It was a stone building in what they called a 
+'compound' or open space, enclosed by a palisade.  When we 
+arrived there, it was occupied by a troop of mounted riflemen 
+under canvas, outside the compound.  The officers lived in 
+the fort; and as we had letters to the Colonel - Somner - and 
+to the Captain - Rhete, they were very kind and very useful 
+to us.
+
+We pitched our camp by the Laramie river, four miles from the 
+fort.  Nearer than that there was not a blade of grass.  The 
+cavalry horses and military mules needed all there was at 
+hand.  Some of the mules we were allowed to buy, or exchange 
+for our own.  We accordingly added six fresh ones to our 
+cavalcade, and parted with two horses; which gave us a total 
+of fifteen mules and six horses.  Government provisions were 
+not to be had, so that we could not replenish our now 
+impoverished stock.  This was a serious matter, as will be 
+seen before long.  Nor was the evil lessened by my being laid 
+up with a touch of fever - the effect, no doubt, of those 
+drenches of stagnant water.  The regimental doctor was 
+absent.  I could not be taken into the fort.  And, as we had 
+no tent, and had thrown away almost everything but the 
+clothes we wore, I had to rough it and take my chance.  Some 
+relics of our medicine chest, together with a tough 
+constitution, pulled me through.  But I was much weakened, 
+and by no means fit for the work before us.  Fred did his 
+best to persuade me from going further.  He confessed that he 
+was utterly sick of the expedition; that his injured knee 
+prevented him from hunting, or from being of any use in 
+packing and camp work; that the men were a set of ruffians 
+who did just as they chose - they grumbled at the hardships, 
+yet helped themselves to the stores without restraint; that 
+we had the Rocky Mountains yet to cross; after that, the 
+country was unknown.  Colonel Somner had strongly advised us 
+to turn back.  Forty of his men had tried two months ago to 
+carry despatches to the regiment's headquarters in Oregon.  
+Only five had got through; the rest had been killed and 
+scalped.  Finally, that we had something like 1,200 miles to 
+go, and were already in the middle of August.  It would be 
+folly, obstinacy, madness, to attempt it.  He would stop and 
+hunt where we were, as long as I liked; or he would go back 
+with me.  He would hire fresh good men, and buy new horses; 
+and, now that we knew the country, we could get to St. Louis 
+before the end of September, and' - . There was no reasonable 
+answer to be made.  I simply told him I had thought it over, 
+and had decided to go on.  Like the plucky fellow and staunch 
+friend that he was, he merely shrugged his shoulders, and 
+quietly said, 'Very well.  So be it.'
+
+Before leaving Fort Laramie a singular incident occurred, 
+which must seem so improbable, that its narration may be 
+taken for fiction.  It was, however, a fact.  There was 
+plenty of game near our camping ground; and though the 
+weather was very hot, one of the party usually took the 
+trouble to bring in something to keep the pot supplied.  The 
+sage hens, the buffalo or elk meat were handed over to Jacob, 
+who made a stew with bacon and rice, enough for the evening 
+meal and the morrow's breakfast.  After supper, when everyone 
+had filled his stomach, the large kettle, covered with its 
+lid, was taken off the fire, and this allowed to burn itself 
+out.
+
+For four or five mornings running the kettle was found nearly 
+empty, and all hands had to put up with a cup of coffee and 
+mouldy biscuit dust.  There was a good deal of 
+unparliamentary language.  Everyone accused everyone else of 
+filthy greediness.  It was disgusting that after eating all 
+he could, a man hadn't the decency to wait till the morning.  
+The pot had been full for supper, and, as every man could 
+see, it was never half emptied - enough was always left for 
+breakfast.  A resolution was accordingly passed that each 
+should take his turn of an hour's watch at night, till the 
+glutton was caught in the act.
+
+My hour happened to be from 11 to 12 P.M.  I strongly 
+suspected the thief to be an Indian, and loaded my big pistol 
+with slugs on the chance.  It was a clear moonlight night.  I 
+propped myself comfortably with a bag of hams; and concealed 
+myself as well as I could in a bush of artemisia, which was 
+very thick all round.  I had not long been on the look-out 
+when a large grey wolf prowled slowly out of the bushes.  The 
+night was bright as day; but every one of the men was sound 
+asleep in a circle round the remains of the camp fire.  The 
+wolf passed between them, hesitating as it almost touched a 
+covering blanket.  Step by step it crept up to the kettle, 
+took the handle of the lid between its jaws, lifted it off, 
+placed it noiselessly on the ground, and devoured the savoury 
+stew.
+
+I could not fire, because of the men.  I dared not move, lest 
+I should disturb the robber.  I was even afraid the click of 
+cocking the pistol would startle him and prevent my getting a 
+quiet shot.  But patience was rewarded.  When satiated, the 
+brute retired as stealthily as he had advanced; and as he 
+passed within seven or eight yards of me I let him have it.  
+Great was my disappointment to see him scamper off.  How was 
+it possible I could have missed him?  I must have fired over 
+his back.  The men jumped to their feet and clutched their 
+rifles; but, though astonished at my story, were soon at rest 
+again.  After this the kettle was never robbed.  Four days 
+later we were annoyed with such a stench that it was a 
+question of shifting our quarters.  In hunting for the 
+nuisance amongst the thicket of wormwood, the dead wolf was 
+discovered not twenty yards from our centre.
+
+The reader would not thank me for an account of the 
+monotonous drudgery, the hardships, the quarrellings, which 
+grew worse from day to day after we left Fort Laramie.  Fred 
+and I were about the only two who were on speaking terms; we 
+clung to each other, as a sort of forlorn security against 
+coming disasters.  Gradually it was dawning on me that, under 
+the existing circumstances, the fulfilment of my hopes would 
+be (as Fred had predicted) an impossibility; and that to 
+persist in the attempt to realise them was to court 
+destruction.  As yet, I said nothing of this to him.  Perhaps 
+I was ashamed to.  Perhaps I secretly acknowledged to myself 
+that he had been wiser than I, and that my stubbornness was 
+responsible for the life itself of every one of the party.
+
+Doubtless thoughts akin to these must often have haunted the 
+mind of my companion; but he never murmured; only uttered a 
+hasty objurgation when troubles reached a climax, and 
+invariably ended with a burst of cheery laughter which only 
+the sulkiest could resist.  It was after a day of severe 
+trials he proposed that we should go off by ourselves for a 
+couple of nights in search of game, of which we were much in 
+need.  The men were easily persuaded to halt and rest.  
+Samson had become a sort of nonentity.  Dysentery had 
+terribly reduced his strength, and with it such intelligence 
+as he could boast of.  We started at daybreak, right glad to 
+be alone together and away from the penal servitude to which 
+we were condemned.  We made for the Sweetwater, not very far 
+from the foot of the South Pass, where antelope and black-
+tailed deer abounded.  We failed, however, to get near them - 
+stalk after stalk miscarried.
+
+Disappointed and tired, we were looking out for some snug 
+little hollow where we could light a fire without its being 
+seen by the Indians, when, just as we found what we wanted, 
+an antelope trotted up to a brow to inspect us.  I had a 
+fairly good shot at him and missed.  This disheartened us 
+both.  Meat was the one thing we now sorely needed to save 
+the rapidly diminishing supply of hams.  Fred said nothing, 
+but I saw by his look how this trifling accident helped to 
+depress him.  I was ready to cry with vexation.  My rifle was 
+my pride, the stag of my life - my ALTER EGO.  It was never 
+out of my hands; every day I practised at prairie dogs, at 
+sage hens, at a mark even if there was no game.  A few days 
+before we got to Laramie I had killed, right and left, two 
+wild ducks, the second on the wing; and now, when so much 
+depended on it, I could not hit a thing as big as a donkey.  
+The fact is, I was the worse for illness.  I had constant 
+returns of fever, with bad shivering fits, which did not 
+improve the steadiness of one's hand.  However, we managed to 
+get a supper.  While we were examining the spot where the 
+antelope had stood, a leveret jumped up, and I knocked him 
+over with my remaining barrel.  We fried him in the one tin 
+plate we had brought with us, and thought it the most 
+delicious dish we had had for weeks.
+
+As we lay side by side, smoke curling peacefully from our 
+pipes, we chatted far into the night, of other days - of 
+Cambridge, of our college friends, of London, of the opera, 
+of balls, of women - the last a fruitful subject - and of the 
+future.  I was vastly amused at his sudden outburst as some 
+start of one of the horses picketed close to us reminded us 
+of the actual present.  'If ever I get out of this d-d mess,' 
+he exclaimed, 'I'll never go anywhere without my own French 
+cook.'  He kept his word, to the end of his life, I believe.
+
+It was a delightful repose, a complete forgetting, for a 
+night at any rate, of all impending care.  Each was cheered 
+and strengthened for the work to come.  The spirit of 
+enterprise, the love of adventure restored for the moment, 
+believed itself a match for come what would.  The very 
+animals seemed invigorated by the rest and the abundance of 
+rich grass spreading as far as we could see.  The morning was 
+bright and cool.  A delicious bath in the Sweetwater, a 
+breakfast on fried ham and coffee, and once more in our 
+saddles on the way back to camp, we felt (or fancied that we 
+felt) prepared for anything.
+
+That is just what we were not.  Samson and the men, meeting 
+with no game where we had left them, had moved on that 
+afternoon in search of better hunting grounds.  The result 
+was that when we overtook them, we found five mules up to 
+their necks in a muddy creek.  The packs were sunk to the 
+bottom, and the animals nearly drowned or strangled.  Fred 
+and I rushed to the rescue.  At once we cut the ropes which 
+tied them together; and, setting the men to pull at tails or 
+heads, succeeded at last in extricating them.
+
+Our new-born vigour was nipped in the bud.  We were all 
+drenched to the skin.  Two packs containing the miserable 
+remains of our wardrobe, Fred's and mine, were lost.  The 
+catastrophe produced a good deal of bad language and bad 
+blood.  Translated into English it came to this:  'They had 
+trusted to us, taking it for granted we knew what we were 
+about.  What business had we to "boss" the party if we were 
+as ignorant as the mules?  We had guaranteed to lead them 
+through to California [!] and had brought them into this 
+"almighty fix" to slave like niggers and to starve.' There 
+was just truth enough in the Jeremiad to make it sting.  It 
+would not have been prudent, nay, not very safe, to return 
+curse for curse.  But the breaking point was reached at last.  
+That night I, for one, had not much sleep.  I was soaked from 
+head to foot, and had not a dry rag for a change.  Alternate 
+fits of fever and rigor would alone have kept me awake; but 
+renewed ponderings upon the situation and confirmed 
+convictions of the peremptory necessity of breaking up the 
+party, forced me to the conclusion that this was the right, 
+the only, course to adopt.
+
+For another twenty-four hours I brooded over my plans.  Two 
+main difficulties confronted me:  the announcement to the 
+men, who might mutiny; and the parting with Fred, which I 
+dreaded far the most of the two.  Would he not think it 
+treacherous to cast him off after the sacrifices he had made 
+for me?  Implicitly we were as good as pledged to stand by 
+each other to the last gasp.  Was it not mean and dastardly 
+to run away from the battle because it was dangerous to fight 
+it out?  Had friendship no claims superior to personal 
+safety?  Was not my decision prompted by sheer selfishness?  
+Could anything be said in its defence?
+
+Yes; sentiment must yield to reason.  To go on was certain 
+death for all.  It was not too late to return, for those who 
+wished it.  And when I had demonstrated, as I could easily 
+do, the impossibility of continuance, each one could decide 
+for himself.  The men were as reckless as they were ignorant.  
+However they might execrate us, we were still their natural 
+leaders:  their blame, indeed, implied they felt it.  No 
+sentimental argument could obscure this truth, and this 
+conviction was decisive.
+
+The next night and the day after were, from a moral point of 
+view, the most trying perhaps, of the whole journey.  We had 
+halted on a wide, open plain.  Due west of us in the far 
+distance rose the snowy peaks of the mountains.  And the 
+prairie on that side terminated in bluffs, rising gradually 
+to higher spurs of the range.  When the packs were thrown 
+off, and the men had turned, as usual, to help themselves to 
+supper, I drew Fred aside and imparted my resolution to him.  
+He listened to it calmly - much more so than I had expected.  
+Yet it was easy to see by his unusual seriousness that he 
+fully weighed the gravity of the purpose.  All he said at the 
+time was, 'Let us talk it over after the men are asleep.'
+
+We did so.  We placed our saddles side by side - they were 
+our regular pillows - and, covering ourselves with the same 
+blanket, well out of ear-shot, discussed the proposition from 
+every practical aspect.  He now combated my scheme, as I 
+always supposed he would, by laying stress upon our bond of 
+friendship.  This was met on my part by the arguments already 
+set forth.  He then proposed an amendment, which almost upset 
+my decision.  'It is true,' he admitted, 'that we cannot get 
+through as we are going now; the provisions will not hold out 
+another month, and it is useless to attempt to control the 
+men.  But there are two ways out of the difficulty:  we can 
+reach Salt Lake City and winter there; or, if you are bent on 
+going to California, why shouldn't we take Jacob and Nelson 
+(the Canadian), pay off the rest of the brutes, and travel 
+together, - us four?'
+
+Whether 'das ewig Wirkende' that shapes our ends be 
+beneficent or malignant is not easy to tell, till after the 
+event.  Certain it is that sometimes we seem impelled by 
+latent forces stronger than ourselves - if by self be meant 
+one's will.  We cannot give a reason for all we do; the 
+infinite chain of cause and effect, which has had no 
+beginning and will have no end, is part of the reckoning, - 
+with this, finite minds can never grapple.
+
+It was destined (my stubbornness was none of my making) that 
+I should remain obdurate.  Fred's last resource was an 
+attempt to persuade me (he really believed:  I, too, thought 
+it likely) that the men would show fight, annex beasts and 
+provisions, and leave us to shift for ourselves.  There were 
+six of them, armed as we were, to us three, or rather us two, 
+for Samson was a negligible quantity.  'We shall see,' said 
+I; and by degrees we dropped asleep.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+
+BEFORE the first streak of dawn I was up and off to hunt for 
+the horses and mules, which were now allowed to roam in 
+search of feed.  On my return, the men were afoot, taking it 
+easy as usual.  Some artemisia bushes were ablaze for the 
+morning's coffee.  No one but Fred had a suspicion of the 
+coming crisis.  I waited till each one had lighted his pipe; 
+then quietly requested the lot to gather the provision packs 
+together, as it was desirable to take stock, and make some 
+estimate of demand and supply.  Nothing loth, the men obeyed.  
+'Now,' said I, 'turn all the hams out of their bags, and let 
+us see how long they will last.'  When done:  'What!' I 
+exclaimed, with well - feigned dismay, 'that's not all, 
+surely?  There are not enough here to last a fortnight.  
+Where are the rest?   No more?  Why, we shall starve.'  The 
+men's faces fell; but never a murmur, nor a sound.  'Turn out 
+the biscuit bags.  Here, spread these empty ham sacks, and 
+pour the biscuit on to them.  Don't lose any of the dust.  We 
+shall want every crumb, mouldy or not.'  The gloomy faces 
+grew gloomier.  What's to be done?'  Silence.  'The first 
+thing, as I think all will agree, is to divide what is left 
+into nine equal shares - that's our number now - and let each 
+one take his ninth part, to do what he likes with.  You 
+yourselves shall portion out the shares, and then draw lots 
+for choice.'
+
+This presentation of the inevitable compelled submission.  
+The whole, amounting to twelve light mule packs (it had been 
+fifteen fairly heavy ones after our purchases at Fort 
+Laramie), was still a goodly bulk to look at.  The nine 
+peddling dividends, when seen singly, were not quite what the 
+shareholders had anticipated.
+
+Why were they still silent?  Why did they not rebel, and 
+visit their wrath upon the directors?  Because they knew in 
+their hearts that we had again and again predicted the 
+catastrophe.  They knew we had warned them scores and scores 
+of times of the consequences of their wilful and reckless 
+improvidence.  They were stupefied, aghast, at the ruin they 
+had brought upon themselves.  To turn upon us, to murder us, 
+and divide our three portions between them, would have been 
+suicidal.  In the first place, our situation was as desperate 
+as theirs.  We should fight for our lives; and it was not 
+certain, in fact it was improbable, that either Jacob or 
+William would side against us.  Without our aid - they had 
+not a compass among them - they were helpless.  The instinct 
+of self-preservation bade them trust to our good will.
+
+So far, then, the game was won.  Almost humbly they asked 
+what we advised them to do.  The answer was prompt and 
+decisive:  'Get back to Fort Laramie as fast as you can.'  
+'But how?  Were they to walk?  They couldn't carry their 
+packs.'  'Certainly not; we were English gentlemen, and would 
+behave as such.  Each man should have his own mule; each, 
+into the bargain, should receive his pay according to 
+agreement.' They were agreeably surprised.  I then very 
+strongly counselled them not to travel together.  Past 
+experience proved how dangerous this must be.  To avoid the 
+temptation, even the chance, of this happening, the surest 
+and safest plan would be for each party to start separately, 
+and not leave till the last was out of sight.  For my part I 
+had resolved to go alone.
+
+It was a melancholy day for everyone.  And to fill the cup of 
+wretchedness to overflowing, the rain, beginning with a 
+drizzle, ended with a downpour.  Consultations took place 
+between men who had not spoken to one another for weeks.  
+Fred offered to go on, at all events to Salt Lake City, if 
+Nelson the Canadian and Jacob would go with him.  Both 
+eagerly closed with the offer.  They would be so much nearer 
+to the 'diggings,' and were, moreover, fond of their leader.  
+Louis would go back to Fort Laramie.  Potter and Morris would 
+cross the mountains, and strike south for the Mormon city if 
+their provisions and mules threatened to give out.  William 
+would try his luck alone in the same way.  And there remained 
+no one but Samson, undecided and unprovided for.  The strong 
+weak man sat on the ground in the steady rain, smoking pipe 
+after pipe; watching first the preparations, then the 
+departures, one after the other, at intervals of an hour or 
+so.  First the singles, then the pair; then, late in the 
+afternoon, Fred and his two henchmen.
+
+It is needless to depict our separation.  I do not think 
+either expected ever to see the other again.  Yet we parted 
+after the manner of trueborn Britons, as if we should meet 
+again in a day or two.  'Well, good-bye, old fellow.  Good 
+luck.  What a beastly day, isn't it?'  But emotions are only 
+partially suppressed by subduing their expression.  The 
+hearts of both were full.
+
+I watched the gradual disappearance of my dear friend, and 
+thought with a sigh of my loss in Jacob and Nelson, the two 
+best men of the band.  It was a comfort to reflect that they 
+had joined Fred.  Jacob especially was full of resource; 
+Nelson of energy and determination.  And the courage and cool 
+judgment of Fred, and his presence of mind in emergencies, 
+were all pledges for the safety of the trio.
+
+As they vanished behind a distant bluff, I turned to the 
+sodden wreck of the deserted camp, and began actively to pack 
+my mules.  Samson seemed paralysed by imbecility.
+
+'What had I better do?' he presently asked, gazing with dull 
+eyes at his two mules and two horses.
+
+'I don't care what you do.  It is nothing to me.  You had 
+better pack your mules before it is dark, or you may lose 
+them.'
+
+'I may as well go with you, I think.  I don't care much about 
+going back to Laramie.'
+
+He looked miserable.  I was so.  I had held out under a long 
+and heavy strain.  Parting with Fred had, for the moment, 
+staggered my resolution.  I was sick at heart.  The thought 
+of packing two mules twice a day, single-handed, weakened as 
+I was by illness, appalled me.  And though ashamed of the 
+perversity which had led me to fling away the better and 
+accept the worse, I yielded.
+
+'Very well then.  Make haste.  Get your traps together.  I'll 
+look after the horses.'
+
+It took more than an hour before the four mules were ready.  
+Like a fool, I left Samson to tie the led horses in a string, 
+while I did the same with the mules.  He started, leading the 
+horses.  I followed with the mule train some minutes later.  
+Our troubles soon began.  The two spare horses were nearly as 
+wild as the mules.  I had not got far when I discerned 
+through the rain a kicking and plunging and general 
+entanglement of the lot ahead of me.  Samson had fastened the 
+horses together with slip knots; and they were all doing 
+their best to strangle one another and themselves.  To leave 
+the mules was dangerous, yet two men were required to release 
+the maddened horses.  At last the labour was accomplished; 
+and once more the van pushed on with distinct instructions as 
+to the line of march, it being now nearly dark.  The mules 
+had naturally vanished in the gloom; and by the time I was 
+again in my saddle, Samson was - I knew not where.  On and on 
+I travelled, far into the night.  But failing to overtake my 
+companion, and taking for granted that he had missed his way, 
+I halted when I reached a stream, threw off the packs, let 
+the animals loose, rolled myself in my blanket, and shut my 
+eyes upon a trying day.
+
+Nothing happens but the unexpected.  Daylight woke me.  
+Samson, still in his rugs, was but a couple of hundred yards 
+further up the stream.  In the afternoon of the third day we 
+fell in with William.  He had cut himself a long willow wand 
+and was fishing for trout, of which he had caught several in 
+the upper reaches of the Sweetwater.  He threw down his rod, 
+hastened to welcome our arrival, and at once begged leave to 
+join us.  He was already sick of solitude.  He had come 
+across Potter and Morris, who had left him that morning.  
+They had been visited by wolves in the night, (I too had been 
+awakened by their howlings,) and poor William did not relish 
+the thought of the mountains alone, with his one little white 
+mule - which he called 'Cream.'  He promised to do his utmost 
+to help with the packing, and 'not cost us a cent.'  I did 
+not tell him how my heart yearned towards him, and how 
+miserably my courage had oozed away since we parted, but made 
+a favour of his request, and granted it.  The gain, so long 
+as it lasted, was incalculable.
+
+The summit of the South Pass is between 8000 and 9000 feet 
+above the level of the Gulf of Mexico.  The Pass itself is 
+many miles broad, undulating on the surface, but not 
+abruptly.  The peaks of the Wind River Chain, immediately to 
+the north, are covered with snow; and as we gradually got 
+into the misty atmosphere we felt the cold severely.  The 
+lariats - made of raw hide - became rods of ice; and the poor 
+animals, whose backs were masses of festering raws, suffered 
+terribly from exposure.  It was interesting to come upon 
+proofs of the 'divide' within a mile of the most elevated 
+point in the pass.  From the Hudson to this spot, all waters 
+had flowed eastward; now suddenly every little rivulet was 
+making for the Pacific.
+
+The descent is as gradual as the rise.  On the first day of 
+it we lost two animals, a mule and Samson's spare horse.  The 
+latter, never equal to the heavy weight of its owner, could 
+go no further; and the dreadful state of the mule's back 
+rendered packing a brutality.  Morris and Potter, who passed 
+us a few days later, told us they had seen the horse dead, 
+and partially eaten by wolves; the mule they had shot to put 
+it out of its misery.
+
+In due course we reached Fort Hall, a trading post of the 
+Hudson's Bay Company, some 200 miles to the north-west of the 
+South Pass.  Sir George Simpson, Chairman of that Company, 
+had given me letters, which ensured the assistance of its 
+servants.  It was indeed a rest and a luxury to spend a 
+couple of idle days here, and revive one's dim recollection 
+of fresh eggs and milk.  But we were already in September.  
+Our animals were in a deplorable condition; and with the 
+exception of a little flour, a small supply of dried meat, 
+and a horse for Samson, Mr. Grant, the trader, had nothing to 
+sell us.  He told us, moreover, that before we reached Fort 
+Boise, their next station, 300 miles further on, we had to 
+traverse a great rocky desert, where we might travel four-
+and-twenty hours after leaving water, before we met with it 
+again.  There was nothing for it but to press onwards.  It 
+was too late now to cross the Sierra Nevada range, which lay 
+between us and California; and with the miserable equipment 
+left to us, it was all we could hope to do to reach Oregon 
+before the passage of the Blue Mountains was blocked by the 
+winter's snow.
+
+Mr. Grant's warnings were verified to the foot of the letter.  
+Great were our sufferings, and almost worse were those of the 
+poor animals, from the want of water.  Then, too, unlike the 
+desert of Sahara, where the pebbly sand affords a solid 
+footing, the soil here is the calcined powder of volcanic 
+debris, so fine that every step in it is up to one's ankles; 
+while clouds of it rose, choking the nostrils, and covering 
+one from head to heel.  Here is a passage from my journal:
+
+'Road rocky in places, but generally deep in the finest 
+floury sand.  A strong and biting wind blew dead in our 
+teeth, smothering us in dust, which filled every pore.  
+William presented such a ludicrous appearance that Samson and 
+I went into fits over it.  An old felt hat, fastened on by a 
+red cotton handkerchief, tied under his chin, partly hid his 
+lantern-jawed visage; this, naturally of a dolorous cast, was 
+screwed into wrinkled contortions by its efforts to resist 
+the piercing gale.  The dust, as white as flour, had settled 
+thick upon him, the extremity of his nasal organ being the 
+only rosy spot left; its pearly drops lodged upon a chin 
+almost as prominent.  His shoulders were shrugged to a level 
+with his head, and his long legs dangled from the back of 
+little "Cream" till they nearly touched the ground.'
+
+We laughed at him, it is true, but he was so good-natured, so 
+patient, so simple-minded, and, now and then, when he and I 
+were alone, so sentimental and confidential about Mary, and 
+the fortune he meant to bring her back, that I had a sort of 
+maternal liking for him; and even a vicarious affection for 
+Mary herself, the colour of whose eyes and hair - nay, whose 
+weight avoirdupois - I was now accurately acquainted with.  
+No, the honest fellow had not quite the grit of a 
+'Leatherstocking.'
+
+One night, when we had halted after dark, he went down to a 
+gully (we were not then in the desert) to look for water for 
+our tea.  Samson, armed with the hatchet, was chopping wood.  
+I stayed to arrange the packs, and spread the blankets.  
+Suddenly I heard a voice from the bottom of the ravine, 
+crying out, 'Bring the guns for God's sake!  Make haste!  
+Bring the guns!'  I rushed about in the dark, tumbling over 
+the saddles, but could nowhere lay my hands on a rifle.  
+Still the cry was for 'Guns!'  My own, a muzzle-loader, was 
+discharged, but a rifle none the less.  Snatching up this, 
+and one of my pistols, which, by the way, had fallen into the 
+river a few hours before, I shouted for Samson, and ran 
+headlong to the rescue.  Before I got to the bottom of the 
+hill I heard groans, which sounded like the last of poor 
+William.  I holloaed to know where he was, and was answered 
+in a voice that discovered nothing worse than terror.
+
+It appeared that he had met a grizzly bear drinking at the 
+very spot where he was about to fill his can; that he had 
+bolted, and the bear had pursued him; but that he had 
+'cobbled the bar with rocks,' had hit it in the eye, or nose, 
+he was not sure which, and thus narrowly escaped with his 
+life.  I could not help laughing at his story, though an 
+examination of the place next morning so far verified it, 
+that his footprints and the bear's were clearly intermingled 
+on the muddy shore of the stream.  To make up for his fright, 
+he was extremely courageous when restored by tea and a pipe.  
+'If we would follow the trail with him, he'd go right slick 
+in for her anyhow.  If his rifle didn't shoot plum, he'd a 
+bowie as 'ud rise her hide, and no mistake.  He'd be darn'd 
+if he didn't make meat of that bar in the morning.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+
+WE were now steering by compass.  Our course was nearly 
+north-west.  This we kept, as well as the formation of the 
+country and the watercourses would permit.  After striking 
+the great Shoshone, or Snake River, which eventually becomes 
+the Columbia, we had to follow its banks in a southerly 
+direction.  These are often supported by basaltic columns 
+several hundred feet in height.  Where that was the case, 
+though close to water, we suffered most from want of it.  And 
+cold as were the nights - it was the middle of September - 
+the sun was intensely hot.  Every day, every mile, we were 
+hoping for a change - not merely for access to the water, but 
+that we might again pursue our westerly course.  The scenery 
+was sometimes very striking.  The river hereabouts varies 
+from one hundred to nearly three hundred yards in width; 
+sometimes rushing through narrow gorges, sometimes descending 
+in continuous rapids, sometimes spread out in smooth shallow 
+reaches.  It was for one of these that we were in search, for 
+only at such points was the river passable.
+
+It was night-time when we came to one of the great falls.  We 
+were able here to get at water; and having halted through the 
+day, on account of the heat, kept on while our animals were 
+refreshed.  We had to ascend the banks again, and wind along 
+the brink of the precipice.  From this the view was 
+magnificent.  The moon shone brightly upon the dancing waves 
+hundreds of feet below us, and upon the rapids which extended 
+as far as we could see.  The deep shade of the high cliffs 
+contrasted in its impenetrable darkness with the brilliancy 
+of the silvery foam.  The vast plain which we overlooked, 
+fading in the soft light, rose gradually into a low range of 
+distant hills.  The incessant roar of the rapids, and the 
+desert stillness of all else around, though they lulled one's 
+senses, yet awed one with a feeling of insignificance and 
+impotence in the presence of such ruthless force, amid such 
+serene and cold indifference.  Unbidden, the consciousness 
+was there, that for some of us the coming struggle with those 
+mighty waters was fraught with life or death.
+
+At last we came upon a broad stretch of the river which 
+seemed to offer the possibilities we sought for.  Rather late 
+in the afternoon we decided to cross here, notwithstanding 
+William's strong reluctance to make the venture.  Part of his 
+unwillingness was, I knew, due to apprehension, part to his 
+love of fishing.  Ever since we came down upon the Snake 
+River we had seen quantities of salmon.  He persisted in the 
+belief that they were to be caught with the rod.  The day 
+before, all three of us had waded into the river, and flogged 
+it patiently for a couple of hours, while heavy fish were 
+tumbling about above and below us.  We caught plenty of 
+trout, but never pricked a salmon.  Here the broad reach was 
+alive with them, and William begged hard to stop for the 
+afternoon and pursue the gentle sport.  It was not to be.
+
+The tactics were as usual.  Samson led the way, holding the 
+lariat to which the two spare horses were attached.  In 
+crossing streams the mules would always follow the horses.  
+They were accordingly let loose, and left to do so.  William 
+and I brought up the rear, driving before us any mule that 
+lagged.  My journal records the sequel:
+
+'At about equal distances from each other and the main land 
+were two small islands.  The first of these we reached 
+without trouble.  The second was also gained; but the packs 
+were wetted, the current being exceedingly rapid.  The space 
+remaining to be forded was at least two hundred yards; and 
+the stream so strong that I was obliged to turn my mare's 
+head up it to prevent her being carried off her legs.  While 
+thus resting, William with difficulty, - the water being over 
+his knees, - sidled up to me.  He wanted to know if I still 
+meant to cross.  For all answer, I laughed at him.  In truth 
+I had not the smallest misgiving.  Strong as was the current, 
+the smooth rocky bottom gave a good foothold to the animals; 
+and, judging by the great width of the river, there was no 
+reason to suppose that its shallowness would not continue.
+
+'We paused for a few minutes to observe Samson, who was now 
+within forty or fifty yards of the opposite bank; and, as I 
+concluded, past all danger.  Suddenly, to the astonishment of 
+both of us, he and his horse and the led animals disappeared 
+under water; the next instant they were struggling and 
+swimming for the bank.  Tied together as they were, there was 
+a deal of snorting and plunging; and Samson (with his 
+habitual ingenuity) had fastened the lariat either to himself 
+or his saddle; so that he was several times dragged under 
+before they all got to the bank in safety.
+
+'These events were watched by William with intense anxiety.  
+With a pitiable look of terror he assured me he could not 
+swim a yard; it was useless for him to try to cross; he would 
+turn back, and find his way to Salt Lake City.
+
+'"But," I remonstrated, "if you turn back, you will certainly 
+starve; everything we possess is over there with the mules; 
+your blanket, even your rifle, are with the packs.  It is 
+impossible to get the mules back again.  Give little Cream 
+her head, sit still in your saddle, and she'll carry you 
+through that bit of deep water with ease."
+
+'"I can live by fishing," he plaintively answered.  He still 
+held his long rod, and the incongruity of it added to the 
+pathos of his despair.  I reminded him of a bad river we had 
+before crossed, and how his mule had swum it safely with him 
+on her back.  I promised to keep close to him, and help him 
+if need were, though I was confident if he left everything to 
+Cream there would be no danger.  "Well, if he must, he must.  
+But, if anything happened to him, would I write and tell 
+Mary?  I knew her address; leastways, if I didn't, it was in 
+his bag on the brown mule.  And tell her I done my best."
+
+'The water was so clear one could see every crack in the rock 
+beneath.  Fortunately, I took the precaution to strip to my 
+shirt; fastened everything, even my socks, to the saddle; 
+then advanced cautiously ahead of William to the brink of the 
+chasm.  We were, in fact, upon the edge of a precipice.  One 
+could see to an inch where the gulf began.  As my mare 
+stepped into it I slipped off my saddle; when she rose I laid 
+hold of her tail, and in two or three minutes should have 
+been safe ashore.
+
+'Looking back to see how it had fared with William, I at once 
+perceived his danger.  He had clasped his mule tightly round 
+the neck with his arms, and round the body with his long 
+legs.  She was plunging violently to get rid of her load.  
+Already the pair were forty or fifty yards below me.  
+Instantly I turned and swam to his assistance.  The struggles 
+of the mule rendered it dangerous to get at him.  When I did 
+so he was partially dazed; his hold was relaxed.  Dragging 
+him away from the hoofs of the animal, I begged him to put 
+his hands on my shoulders or hips.  He was past any effort of 
+the kind.  I do not think he heard me even.  He seemed hardly 
+conscious of anything.  His long wet hair plastered over the 
+face concealed his features.  Beyond stretching out his arms, 
+like an infant imploring help, he made no effort to save 
+himself.
+
+'I seized him firmly by the collar, - unfortunately, with my 
+right hand, leaving only my left to stem the torrent.  But 
+how to keep his face out of the water?  At every stroke I was 
+losing strength; we were being swept away, for him, to 
+hopeless death.  At length I touched bottom, got both hands 
+under his head, and held it above the surface.  He still 
+breathed, still puffed the hair from his lips.  There was 
+still a hope, if I could but maintain my footing.  But, alas! 
+each instant I was losing ground - each instant I was driven 
+back, foot by foot, towards the gulf.  The water, at first 
+only up to my chest, was now up to my shoulders, now up to my 
+neck.  My strength was gone.  My arms ached till they could 
+bear no more.  They sank involuntarily.  William glided from 
+my hands.  He fell like lead till his back lay stretched upon 
+the rock.  His arms were spread out, so that his body formed 
+a cross.  I paddled above it in the clear, smooth water, 
+gazing at his familiar face, till two or three large bubbles 
+burst upon the surface; then, hardly knowing what I was 
+doing, floated mechanically from the trapper's grave.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+'My turn was now to come.  At first, the right, or western, 
+bank being within sixty or seventy yards, being also my 
+proper goal, I struck out for it with mere eagerness to land 
+as soon as possible.  The attempt proved unsuccessful.  Very 
+well, then, I would take it quietly - not try to cross 
+direct, but swim on gently, keeping my head that way.  By 
+degrees I got within twenty yards of the bank, was counting 
+joyfully on the rest which a few more strokes would bring me, 
+when - wsh - came a current, and swept me right into the 
+middle of the stream again.
+
+'I began to be alarmed.  I must get out of this somehow or 
+another; better on the wrong side than not at all.  So I let 
+myself go, and made for the shore we had started from.
+
+'Same fate.  When well over to the left bank I was carried 
+out again.  What! was I too to be drowned?  It began to look 
+like it.  I was getting cold, numb, exhausted.  And - listen!  
+What is that distant sound?  Rapids?  Yes, rapids.  My 
+flannel shirt stuck to, and impeded me; I would have it off.  
+I got it over my head, but hadn't unbuttoned the studs - it 
+stuck, partly over my head.  I tugged to tear it off.  Got a 
+drop of water into my windpipe; was choking; tugged till I 
+got the shirt right again.  Then tried floating on my back - 
+to cough and get my breath.  Heard the rapids much louder.  
+It was getting dark now.  The sun was setting in glorious red 
+and gold.  I noticed this, noticed the salmon rolling like 
+porpoises around me, and thought of William with his rod.  
+Strangest of all, for I had not noticed her before, little 
+Cream was still struggling for dear life not a hundred yards 
+below me; sometimes sinking, sometimes reappearing, but on 
+her way to join her master, as surely as I thought that I 
+was.
+
+'In my distress, the predominant thought was the loneliness 
+of my fate, the loneliness of my body after death.  There was 
+not a living thing to see me die.
+
+'For the first time I felt, not fear, but loss of hope.  I 
+could only beat the water with feeble and futile splashes.  I 
+was completely at its mercy.  And - as we all then do - I 
+prayed - prayed for strength, prayed that I might be spared.  
+But my strength was gone.  My legs dropped powerless in the 
+water.  I could but just keep my nose or mouth above it.  My 
+legs sank, and my feet - touched bottom.
+
+'In an instant, as if from an electric shock, a flush of 
+energy suffused my brain and limbs.  I stood upright in an 
+almost tranquil pool.  An eddy had lodged me on a sandbank.  
+Between it and the land was scarcely twenty yards.  Through 
+this gap the stream ran strong as ever.  I did not want to 
+rest; I did not pause to think.  In I dashed; and a single 
+spurt carried me to the shore.  I fell on my knees, and with 
+a grateful heart poured out gratitude for my deliverance.
+
+. . . . . . .
+
+'I was on the wrong side, the side from which we started.  
+The river was yet to cross.  I had not tasted food since our 
+early meal.  How long I had been swimming I know not, but it 
+was dark now, starlight at least.  The nights were bitterly 
+cold, and my only clothing a wet flannel shirt.  And oh! the 
+craving for companionship, someone to talk to - even Samson.  
+This was a stronger need than warmth, or food, or clothing; 
+so strong that it impelled me to try again.
+
+'The poor sandy soil grew nothing but briars and small 
+cactuses.  In the dark I kept treading on the little prickly 
+plants, but I hurried on till I came in sight of Samson's 
+fire.  I could see his huge form as it intercepted the 
+comfortable blaze.  I pictured him making his tea, broiling 
+some of William's trout, and spreading his things before the 
+fire to dry.  I could see the animals moving around the glow.  
+It was my home.  How I yearned for it!  How should I reach 
+it, if ever?  In this frame of mind the attempt was 
+irresistible.  I started as near as I could from opposite the 
+two islands.  As on horseback, I got pretty easily to the 
+first island.  Beyond this I was taken off my feet by the 
+stream; and only with difficulty did I once more regain the 
+land.
+
+My next object was to communicate with Samson.  By putting 
+both hands to my mouth and shouting with all my force I made 
+him hear.  I could see him get up and come to the water's 
+edge; though he could not see me, his stentorian voice 
+reached me plainly.  His first words were:
+
+'"Is that you, William?  Coke is drowned."
+
+'I corrected him, and thus replied:
+
+'"Do you remember a bend near some willows, where you wanted 
+to cross yesterday?"
+
+'"Yes."
+
+'"About two hours higher up the river?"
+
+'"I remember."
+
+'"Would you know the place again?"
+
+'"Yes."
+
+'"Are you sure?
+
+'"Yes, yes."
+
+'"You will see me by daylight in the morning.  When I start, 
+you will take my mare, my clothes, and some food; make for 
+that place and wait till I come.  I will cross there."
+
+'"All right."
+
+'"Keep me in sight as long as you can.  Don't forget the 
+food."
+
+'It will be gathered from my words that definite instructions 
+were deemed necessary; and the inference - at least it was 
+mine - will follow, that if a mistake were possible Samson 
+would avail himself of it.  The night was before me.  The 
+river had yet to be crossed.  But, strange as it now seems to 
+me, I had no misgivings!  My heart never failed me.  My 
+prayer had been heard.  I had been saved.  How, I knew not.  
+But this I knew, my trust was complete.  I record this as a 
+curious psychological occurrence; for it supported me with 
+unfailing energy through the severe trial which I had yet to 
+undergo.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+OUR experiences are little worth unless they teach us to 
+reflect.  Let us then pause to consider this hourly 
+experience of human beings - this remarkable efficacy of 
+prayer.  There can hardly be a contemplative mind to which, 
+with all its difficulties, the inquiry is not familiar.
+
+To begin with, 'To pray is to expect a miracle.'  'Prayer in 
+its very essence,' says a thoughtful writer, 'implies a 
+belief in the possible intervention of a power which is above 
+nature.'  How was it in my case?  What was the essence of my 
+belief?  Nothing less than this:  that God would have 
+permitted the laws of nature, ordained by His infinite wisdom 
+to fulfil His omniscient designs and pursue their natural 
+course in accordance with His will, had not my request 
+persuaded Him to suspend those laws in my favour.
+
+The very belief in His omniscience and omnipotence subverts 
+the spirit of such a prayer.  It is on the perfection of God 
+that Malebranche bases his argument that 'Dieu n'agit pas par 
+des volontes particulieres.'  Yet every prayer affects to 
+interfere with the divine purposes.
+
+It may here be urged that the divine purposes are beyond our 
+comprehension.  God's purposes may, in spite of the 
+inconceivability, admit the efficacy of prayer as a link in 
+the chain of causation; or, as Dr. Mozely holds, it may be 
+that 'a miracle is not an anomaly or irregularity, but part 
+of the system of the universe.'  We will not entangle 
+ourselves in the abstruse metaphysical problem which such 
+hypotheses involve, but turn for our answer to what we do 
+know - to the history of this world, to the daily life of 
+man.  If the sun rises on the evil as well as on the good, if 
+the wicked 'become old, yea, are mighty in power,' still, the 
+lightning, the plague, the falling chimney-pot, smite the 
+good as well as the evil.  Even the dumb animal is not 
+spared.  'If,' says Huxley, 'our ears were sharp enough to 
+hear all the cries of pain that are uttered in the earth by 
+man and beasts we should be deafened by one continuous 
+scream.'  'If there are any marks at all of special design in 
+creation,' writes John Stuart Mill, 'one of the things most 
+evidently designed is that a large proportion of all animals 
+should pass their existence in tormenting and devouring other 
+animals.  They have been lavishly fitted out with the 
+instruments for that purpose.'  Is it credible, then, that 
+the Almighty Being who, as we assume, hears this continuous 
+scream - animal-prayer, as we may call it - and not only pays 
+no heed to it, but lavishly fits out animals with instruments 
+for tormenting and devouring one another, that such a Being 
+should suspend the laws of gravitation and physiology, should 
+perform a miracle equal to that of arresting the sun - for 
+all miracles are equipollent - simply to prolong the brief 
+and useless existence of such a thing as man, of one man out 
+of the myriads who shriek, and - shriek in vain?
+
+To pray is to expect a miracle.  Then comes the further 
+question:  Is this not to expect what never yet has happened?  
+The only proof of any miracle is the interpretation the 
+witness or witnesses put upon what they have seen.  
+(Traditional miracles - miracles that others have been told, 
+that others have seen - we need not trouble our heads about.)  
+What that proof has been worth hitherto has been commented 
+upon too often to need attention here.  Nor does the weakness 
+of the evidence for miracles depend solely on the fact that 
+it rests, in the first instance, on the senses, which may be 
+deceived; or upon inference, which may be erroneous.  It is 
+not merely that the infallibility of human testimony 
+discredits the miracles of the past.  The impossibility that 
+human knowledge, that science, can ever exhaust the 
+possibilities of Nature, precludes the immediate reference to 
+the Supernatural for all time.  It is pure sophistry to 
+argue, as do Canon Row and other defenders of miracles, that 
+'the laws of Nature are no more violated by the performance 
+of a miracle than they are by the activities of a man.'  If 
+these arguments of the special pleaders had any force at all, 
+it would simply amount to this:  'The activities of man' 
+being a part of nature, we have no evidence of a supernatural 
+being, which is the sole RAISON D'ETRE of miracle.
+
+Yet thousands of men in these days who admit the force of 
+these objections continue, in spite of them, to pray.  
+Huxley, the foremost of 'agnostics,' speaks with the utmost 
+respect of his friend Charles Kingsley's conviction from 
+experience of the efficacy of prayer.  And Huxley himself 
+repeatedly assures us, in some form or other, that 'the 
+possibilities of "may be" are to me infinite.'  The puzzle 
+is, in truth, on a par with that most insolvable of all 
+puzzles - Free Will or Determinism.  Reason and the instinct 
+of conscience are in both cases irreconcilable.  We are 
+conscious that we are always free to choose, though not to 
+act; but reason will have it that this is a delusion.  There 
+is no logical clue to the IMPASSE.  Still, reason 
+notwithstanding, we take our freedom (within limits) for 
+granted, and with like inconsequence we pray.
+
+It must, I think, be admitted that the belief, delusive or 
+warranted, is efficacious in itself.  Whether generated in 
+the brain by the nerve centres, or whatever may be its 
+origin, a force coincident with it is diffused throughout the 
+nervous system, which converts the subject of it, just 
+paralysed by despair, into a vigorous agent, or, if you will, 
+automaton.
+
+Now, those who admit this much argue, with no little force, 
+that the efficacy of prayer is limited to its reaction upon 
+ourselves.  Prayer, as already observed, implies belief in 
+supernatural intervention.  Such belief is competent to beget 
+hope, and with it courage, energy, and effort.  Suppose 
+contrition and remorse induce the sufferer to pray for Divine 
+aid and mercy, suppose suffering is the natural penalty of 
+his or her own misdeeds, and suppose the contrition and the 
+prayer lead to resistance of similar temptations, and hence 
+to greater happiness, - can it be said that the power to 
+resist temptation or endure the penalty are due to 
+supernatural aid?  Or must we not infer that the fear of the 
+consequences of vice or folly, together with an earnest 
+desire and intention to amend, were adequate in themselves to 
+account for the good results?
+
+Reason compels us to the latter conclusion.  But what then?  
+Would this prove prayer to be delusive?  Not necessarily.  
+That the laws of Nature (as argued above) are not violated by 
+miracle, is a mere perversion of the accepted meaning of 
+'miracle,' an IGNORATIO ELENCHI.  But in the case of prayer 
+that does not ask for the abrogation of Nature's laws, it 
+ceases to be a miracle that we pray for or expect:  for are 
+not the laws of the mind also laws of Nature?  And can we 
+explain them any more than we can explain physical laws?  A 
+psychologist can formulate the mental law of association, but 
+he can no more explain it than Newton could explain the laws 
+of attraction and repulsion which pervade the world of 
+matter.  We do not know, we cannot know, what the conditions 
+of our spiritual being are.  The state of mind induced by 
+prayer may, in accordance with some mental law, be essential 
+to certain modes of spiritual energy, specially conducive to 
+the highest of all moral or spiritual results:  taken in this 
+sense, prayer may ask, not the suspension, but the enactment, 
+of some natural law.
+
+Let it, however, be granted, for argument's sake, that the 
+belief in the efficacy of prayer is delusive, and that the 
+beneficial effects of the belief - the exalted state of mind, 
+the enhanced power to endure suffering and resist temptation, 
+the happiness inseparable from the assurance that God hears, 
+and can and will befriend us - let it be granted that all 
+this is due to sheer hallucination, is this an argument 
+against prayer?  Surely not.  For, in the first place, the 
+incontestable fact that belief does produce these effects is 
+for us an ultimate fact as little capable of explanation as 
+any physical law whatever; and may, therefore, for aught we 
+know, or ever can know, be ordained by a Supreme Being.  
+Secondly, all the beneficial effects, including happiness, 
+are as real in themselves as if the belief were no delusion.
+
+It may be said that a 'fool's paradise' is liable to be 
+turned into a hell of disappointment; and that we pay the 
+penalty of building happiness on false foundations.  This is 
+true in a great measure; but it is absolutely without truth 
+as regards our belief in prayer, for the simple reason that 
+if death dispel the delusion, it at the same time dispels the 
+deluded.  However great the mistake, it can never be found 
+out.  But they who make it will have been the better and the 
+happier while they lived.
+
+For my part, though immeasurably preferring the pantheism of 
+Goethe, or of Renan (without his pessimism), to the 
+anthropomorphic God of the Israelites, or of their theosophic 
+legatees, the Christians, however inconsistent, I still 
+believe in prayer.  I should not pray that I may not die 'for 
+want of breath'; nor for rain, while 'the wind was in the 
+wrong quarter.'  My prayers would not be like those 
+overheard, on his visit to Heaven, by Lucian's Menippus:  'O 
+Jupiter, let me become a king!'  'O Jupiter, let my onions 
+and my garlic thrive!'  'O Jupiter, let my father soon depart 
+from hence!'  But when the workings of my moral nature were 
+concerned, when I needed strength to bear the ills which 
+could not be averted, or do what conscience said was right, 
+then I should pray.  And, if I had done my best in the same 
+direction, I should trust in the Unknowable for help.
+
+Then too, is not gratitude to Heaven the best of prayers?  
+Unhappy he who has never felt it!  Unhappier still, who has 
+never had cause to feel it!
+
+It may be deemed unwarrantable thus to draw the lines between 
+what, for want of better terms, we call Material and 
+Spiritual.  Still, reason is but the faculty of a very finite 
+being; and, as in the enigma of the will, utterly incapable 
+of solving any problems beyond those whose data are furnished 
+by the senses.  Reason is essentially realistic.  Science is 
+its domain.  But science demonstratively proves that things 
+are not what they seem; their phenomenal existence is nothing 
+else than their relation to our special intelligence.  We 
+speak and think as if the discoveries of science were 
+absolutely true, true in themselves, not relatively so for us 
+only.  Yet, beings with senses entirely different from ours 
+would have an entirely different science.  For them, our best 
+established axioms would be inconceivable, would have no more 
+meaning than that 'Abracadabra is a second intention.'
+
+Science, supported by reason, assures us that the laws of 
+nature - the laws of realistic phenomena - are never 
+suspended at the prayers of man.  To this conclusion the 
+educated world is now rapidly coming.  If, nevertheless, men 
+thoroughly convinced of this still choose to believe in the 
+efficacy of prayer, reason and science are incompetent to 
+confute them.  The belief must be tried elsewhere, - it must 
+be transferred to the tribunal of conscience, or to a 
+metaphysical court, in which reason has no jurisdiction.
+
+This by no means implies that reason, in its own province, is 
+to yield to the 'feeling' which so many cite as the 
+infallible authority for their 'convictions.'
+
+We must not be asked to assent to contradictory propositions.  
+We must not be asked to believe that injustice, cruelty, and 
+implacable revenge, are not execrable because the Bible tells 
+us they were habitually manifested by the tribal god of the 
+Israelites.  The fables of man's fall and of the redemption 
+are fraught with the grossest violation of our moral 
+conscience, and will, in time, be repudiated accordingly.  It 
+is idle to say, as the Church says, 'these are mysteries 
+above our human reason.'  They are fictions, fabrications 
+which modern research has traced to their sources, and which 
+no unperverted mind would entertain for a moment.  Fanatical 
+belief in the truth of such dogmas based upon 'feeling' have 
+confronted all who have gone through the severe ordeal of 
+doubt.  A couple of centuries ago, those who held them would 
+have burnt alive those who did not.  Now, they have to 
+console themselves with the comforting thought of the fire 
+that shall never be quenched.  But even Job's patience could 
+not stand the self-sufficiency of his pious reprovers.  The 
+sceptic too may retort:  'No doubt but ye are the people, and 
+wisdom shall die with you.'
+
+Conviction of this kind is but the convenient substitute for 
+knowledge laboriously won, for the patient pursuit of truth 
+at all costs - a plea in short, for ignorance, indolence, 
+incapacity, and the rancorous bigotry begotten of them.
+
+The distinction is not a purely sentimental one - not a 
+belief founded simply on emotion.  There is a physical world 
+- the world as known to our senses, and there is a psychical 
+world - the world of feeling, consciousness, thought, and 
+moral life.
+
+Granting, if it pleases you, that material phenomena may be 
+the causes of mental phenomena, that 'la pensee est le 
+produit du corps entier,' still the two cannot be thought of 
+as one.  Until it can be proved that 'there is nothing in the 
+world but matter, force, and necessity,' - which will never 
+be, till we know how we lift our hands to our mouths, - there 
+remains for us a world of mystery, which reason never can 
+invade.
+
+It is a pregnant thought of John Mill's, apropos of material 
+and mental interdependence or identity, 'that the uniform 
+coexistence of one fact with another does not make the one 
+fact a part of the other, or the same with it.'
+
+A few words of Renan's may help to support the argument.  'Ce 
+qui revele le vrai Dieu, c'est le sentiment moral.  Si 
+l'humanite n'etait qu'intelligente, elle serait athee.  Le 
+devoir, le devouement, le sacrifice, toutes choses dont 
+l'histoire est pleine, sont inexplicables sans Dieu.'  For 
+all these we need help.  Is it foolishness to pray for it?  
+Perhaps so.  Yet, perhaps not; for 'Tout est possible, meme 
+Dieu.'
+
+Whether possible, or impossible, this much is absolutely 
+certain:  man must and will have a religion as long as this 
+world lasts.  Let us not fear truth.  Criticism will change 
+men's dogmas, but it will not change man's nature.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+
+MY confidence was restored, and with it my powers of 
+endurance.  Sleep was out of the question.  The night was 
+bright and frosty; and there was not heat enough in my body 
+to dry my flannel shirt.  I made shift to pull up some briar 
+bushes; and, piling them round me as a screen, got some 
+little shelter from the light breeze.  For hours I lay 
+watching Alpha Centauri - the double star of the Great Bear's 
+pointers - dipping under the Polar star like the hour hand of 
+a clock.  My thoughts, strange to say, ran little on the 
+morrow; they dwelt almost solely upon William Nelson.  How 
+far was I responsible, to what extent to blame, for leading 
+him, against his will, to death?  I re-enacted the whole 
+event.  Again he was in my hands, still breathing when I let 
+him go, knowing, as I did so, that the deed consigned him 
+living to his grave.  In this way I passed the night.
+
+Just as the first streaks of the longed-for dawn broke in the 
+East, I heard distant cries which sounded like the whoops of 
+Indians.  Then they ceased, but presently began again much 
+nearer than before.  There was no mistake about them now, - 
+they were the yappings of a pack of wolves, clearly enough, 
+upon our track of yesterday.  A few minutes more, and the 
+light, though still dim, revealed their presence coming on at 
+full gallop.  In vain I sought for stick or stone.  Even the 
+river, though I took to it, would not save me if they meant 
+mischief.  When they saw me they slackened their pace.  I did 
+not move.  They then halted, and forming a half-moon some 
+thirty yards off, squatted on their haunches, and began at 
+intervals to throw up their heads and howl.
+
+My chief hope was in the coming daylight.  They were less 
+likely to attack a man then than in the dark.  I had often 
+met one or two together when hunting; these had always 
+bolted.  But I had never seen a pack before; and I knew a 
+pack meant that they were after food.  All depended on their 
+hunger.
+
+When I kept still they got up, advanced a yard or two, then 
+repeated their former game.  Every minute the light grew 
+stronger; its warmer tints heralded the rising sun.  Seeing, 
+however, that my passivity encouraged them, and convinced 
+that a single step in retreat would bring the pack upon me, I 
+determined in a moment of inspiration to run amuck, and trust 
+to Providence for the consequences.  Flinging my arms wildly 
+into the air, and frantically yelling with all my lungs, I 
+dashed straight in for the lot of them.  They were, as I 
+expected, taken by surprise.  They jumped to their feet and 
+turned tail, but again stopped - this time farther off, and 
+howled with vexation at having to wait till their prey 
+succumbed.
+
+The sun rose.  Samson was on the move.  I shouted to him, and 
+he to me.  Finding me thus reinforced the enemy slunk off, 
+and I was not sorry to see the last of my ugly foes.  I now 
+repeated my instructions about our trysting place, waited 
+patiently till Samson had breakfasted (which he did with the 
+most exasperating deliberation), saw him saddle my horse and 
+leave his camp.  I then started upon my travels up the river, 
+to meet him.  After a mile or so, the high ground on both 
+banks obliged us to make some little detour.  We then lost 
+sight of each other; nor was he to be seen when I reached the 
+appointed spot.
+
+Long before I did so I began to feel the effects of my 
+labours.  My naked feet were in a terrible state from the 
+cactus thorns, which I had been unable to avoid in the dark; 
+occasional stones, too, had bruised and made them very 
+tender.  Unable to shuffle on at more than two miles an hour 
+at fastest, the happy thought occurred to me of tearing up my 
+shirt and binding a half round each foot.  This enabled me to 
+get on much better; but when the September sun was high, my 
+unprotected skin and head paid the penalty.  I waited for a 
+couple of hours, I dare say, hoping Samson would appear.  But 
+concluding at length that he had arrived long before me, 
+through the slowness of my early progress, and had gone 
+further up the river - thinking perhaps that I had meant some 
+other place - I gave him up; and, full of internal 'd-n' at 
+his incorrigible consistency, plodded on and on for - I knew 
+not where.
+
+Why, it may be asked, did I not try to cross where I had 
+intended?  I must confess my want of courage.  True, the 
+river here was not half, not a third, of the width of the 
+scene of my disasters; but I was weak in body and in mind.  
+Had anything human been on the other side to see me - to see 
+how brave I was, (alas! poor human nature!) - I could have 
+plucked up heart to risk it.  It would have been such a 
+comfort to have some one to see me drown!  But it is 
+difficult to play the hero with no spectators save oneself.  
+I shall always have a fellow-feeling with the Last Man:  
+practically, my position was about as uncomfortable as his 
+will be.
+
+One of the worst features of it was, what we so often 
+suffered from before - the inaccessibility of water.  The sun 
+was broiling, and the and soil reflected its scorching rays.  
+I was feverish from exhaustion, and there was nothing, 
+nothing to look forward to.  Mile after mile I crawled along, 
+sometimes half disposed to turn back, and try the deep but 
+narrow passage; then that inexhaustible fountain of last 
+hopes - the Unknown - tempted me to go forward.  I 
+persevered; when behold! as I passed a rock, an Indian stood 
+before me.
+
+He was as naked as I was.  Over his shoulder he carried a 
+spear as long as a salmon rod.  Though neither had foreseen 
+the other, he was absolutely unmoved, showed no surprise, no 
+curiosity, no concern.  He stood still, and let me come up to 
+him.  My only, or rather my uppermost, feeling was gladness.  
+Of course the thought crossed me of what he might do if he 
+owed the white skins a grudge.  If any white man had ever 
+harmed one of his tribe, I was at his mercy; and it was 
+certain that he would show me none.  He was a tall powerful 
+man, and in my then condition he could have done what he 
+pleased with me.  Friday was my model; the red man was 
+Robinson Crusoe.  I kneeled at his feet, and touched the 
+ground with my forehead.  He did not seem the least elated by 
+my humility:  there was not a spark of vanity in him.  
+Indeed, except for its hideousness and brutality, his face 
+was without expression.
+
+I now proceeded to make a drawing, with my finger, in the 
+sand, of a mule in the water; while I imitated by pantomime 
+the struggles of the drowning.  I then pointed to myself; 
+and, using my arms as in swimming, shook my head and my 
+finger to signify that I could not swim.  I worked an 
+imaginary paddle, and made him understand that I wanted him 
+to paddle me across the river.  Still he remained unmoved; 
+till finally I used one argument which interested him more 
+than all the rest of my story.  I untied a part of the shirt 
+round one foot and showed him three gold studs.  These I took 
+out and gave to him.  I also made a drawing of a rifle in the 
+sand, and signified that he would get the like if he went 
+with me to my camp.  Whereupon he turned in the direction I 
+was going; and, though unbidden by a look, I did not hesitate 
+to follow.
+
+I thought I must have dropped before we reached his village.  
+This was an osier-bed at the water's side, where the whole 
+river rushed through a rocky gorge not more than fifty to 
+sixty yards broad.  There were perhaps nearly a hundred 
+Indians here, two-thirds of whom were women and children.  
+Their habitations were formed by interlacing the tops of the 
+osiers.  Dogs' skins spread upon the ground and numerous 
+salmon spears were their only furniture.  In a few minutes my 
+arrival created a prodigious commotion.  The whole population 
+turned out to stare at me.  The children ran into the bushes 
+to hide.  But feminine curiosity conquered feminine timidity.  
+Although I was in the plight of the forlorn Odysseus after 
+his desperate swim, I had no 'blooming foliage' to wind 
+[Greek text which cannot be reproduced].  Unlike the 
+Phaeacian maidens, however, the tawny nymphs were all as 
+brave as Princess Nausicaa herself.  They stared, and 
+pointed, and buzzed, and giggled, and even touched my skin 
+with the tips of their fingers - to see, I suppose, if the 
+white would come off.
+
+But ravenous hunger turned up its nose at flirtation.  The 
+fillets of drying salmon suspended from every bough were a 
+million times more seductive than the dark Naiads who had 
+dressed them.  Slice after slice I tore down and devoured, as 
+though my maw were as compendious as Jack the Giant Killer's.  
+This so astonished and delighted the young women that they 
+kept supplying me, - with the expectation, perhaps, that 
+sooner or later I must share the giant's fate.
+
+While this was going on, a conference was being held; and I 
+had the satisfaction of seeing some men pull up a lot of dead 
+rushes, dexterously tie them into bundles, and truss these 
+together by means of spears.  They had no canoes, for the 
+very children were amphibious, living, so it seemed, as much 
+in the water as out of it.  When the raft was completed, I 
+was invited to embark.  My original friend, who had twisted a 
+tow-rope, took this between his teeth, and led the way.  
+Others swam behind and beside me to push and to pull.  The 
+force of the water was terrific; but they seemed to care no 
+more for that than fish.  My weight sunk the rush bundles a 
+good bit below the surface; and to try my nerves, my crew 
+every now and then with a wild yell dived simultaneously, 
+dragging the raft and me under water.  But I sat tight; and 
+with genuine friendliness they landed me safely on the 
+desired shore.
+
+It was quite dark before we set forth.  Robinson Crusoe 
+walked on as if he knew exactly where my camp was.  Probably 
+the whole catastrophe had by this time been bruited for miles 
+above and below the spot.  Five other stalwart young fellows 
+kept us company, each with salmon spear in hand.  The walk 
+seemed interminable; but I had shipped a goodly cargo of 
+latent energy.
+
+When I got home, instead of Samson, I found the camp occupied 
+by half a dozen Indians.  They were squatted round a fire, 
+smoking.  Each one, so it seemed, had appropriated some 
+article of our goods.  Our blankets were over their 
+shoulders.  One had William's long rifle in his lap.  Another 
+was sitting upon mine.  A few words were exchanged with the 
+newcomers, who seated themselves beside their friends; but no 
+more notice was taken of me than of the mules which were 
+eating rushes close to us.  How was I, single-handed, to 
+regain possession?  That was the burning question.  A 
+diplomatic course commanded itself as the only possible one.  
+There were six men who expected rewards, but the wherewithal 
+was held in seisin by other six.  The fight, if there were 
+one, should be between the two parties.  I would hope to 
+prove, that when thieves fall out honest men come by their 
+own.
+
+There is one adage whose truth I needed no further proof of.  
+Its first line apostrophises the 'Gods and little fishes.'  
+My chief need was for the garment which completes the rhyme.  
+Indians, having no use for corduroy small clothes, I speedily 
+donned mine.  Next I quietly but quickly snatched up 
+William's rifle, and presented it to Robinson Crusoe, patting 
+him on the back as if with honours of knighthood.  The 
+dispossessed was not well pleased, but Sir Robinson was; and, 
+to all appearances, he was a man of leading, if of darkness.  
+While words were passing between the two, I sauntered round 
+to the gentleman who sat cross-legged upon my weapon.  He was 
+as heedless of me as I, outwardly, of him.  When well within 
+reach, mindful that 'DE L'AUDACE' is no bad motto, in love 
+and war, I suddenly placed my foot upon his chest, tightened 
+the extensor muscle of my leg, and sent him heels over head.  
+In an instant the rifle was mine, and both barrels cocked.  
+After yesterday's immersion it might not have gone off, but 
+the offended Indian, though furious, doubtless inferred from 
+the histrionic attitude which I at once struck, that I felt 
+confident it would.  With my rifle in hand, with my suite 
+looking to me to transfer the plunder to them, my position 
+was now secure.  I put on a shirt - the only one left to me, 
+by the way - my shoes and stockings, and my shooting coat; 
+and picking out William's effects, divided these, with his 
+ammunition, his carpet-bag, and his blankets, amongst my 
+original friends.  I was beginning to gather my own things 
+together, when Samson, leading my horse, unexpectedly rode 
+into the midst of us.  The night was far advanced.  The 
+Indians took their leave; and added to the obligation by 
+bequeathing us a large fresh salmon, which served us for many 
+a day to come.
+
+As a postscript I may add that I found poor Mary's address on 
+one of her letters, and faithfully kept my promise as soon as 
+I reached pen and ink.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+
+WHAT remains to be told will not take long.  Hardships 
+naturally increased as the means of bearing them diminished.  
+I have said the salmon held out for many days.  We cut it in 
+strips, and dried it as well as we could; but the flies and 
+maggots robbed us of a large portion of it.  At length we 
+were reduced to two small hams; nothing else except a little 
+tea.  Guessing the distance we had yet to go, and taking into 
+account our slow rate of travelling, I calculated the number 
+of days which, with the greatest economy, these could be made 
+to last.  Allowing only one meal a day, and that of the 
+scantiest, I scored the hams as a cook scores a leg of roast 
+pork, determined under no circumstances to exceed the daily 
+ration.
+
+No little discipline was requisite to adhere to this 
+resolution.  Samson broke down under the exposure and 
+privation; superadded dysentery rendered him all but 
+helpless, and even affected his mind.  The whole labour of 
+the camp then devolved on me.  I never roused him in the 
+morning till the mules were packed - with all but his blanket 
+and the pannikin for his tea - and until I had saddled his 
+horse for him.  Not till we halted at night did we get our 
+ration of ham.  This he ate, or rather bolted, raw, like a 
+wild beast.  My share I never touched till after I lay down 
+to sleep.  And so tired have I been, that once or twice I 
+woke in the morning with my hand at my mouth, the unswallowed 
+morsel between my teeth.  For three weeks we went on in this 
+way, never exchanging a word.  I cannot say how I might have 
+behaved had Fred been in Samson's place.  I hope I should 
+have been at least humane.  But I was labouring for my life, 
+and was not over tender-hearted.
+
+Certainly there was enough to try the patience of a better 
+man.  Take an instance.  Unable one morning to find my own 
+horse, I saddled his and started him off, so as not to waste 
+time, with his spare animal and the three mules.  It so 
+happened that our line of march was rather tortuous, owing to 
+some hills we had to round.  Still, as there were high 
+mountains in the distance which we were making for, it seemed 
+impossible that anyone could miss his way.  It was twenty 
+minutes, perhaps, before I found my horse; this would give 
+him about a mile or more start of me.  I hurried on, but 
+failed to overtake him.  At the end of an hour I rode to the 
+top of a hill which commanded a view of the course he should 
+have taken.  Not a moving speck was to be seen.  I knew then 
+that he had gone astray.  But in which direction?
+
+My heart sank within me.  The provisions and blankets were 
+with him.  I do not think that at any point of my journey I 
+had ever felt fear - panic that is - till now.  Starvation 
+stared me in the face.  My wits refused to suggest a line of 
+action.  I was stunned.  I felt then what I have often felt 
+since, what I still feel, that it is possible to wrestle 
+successfully with every difficulty that man has overcome, but 
+not with that supreme difficulty - man's stupidity.  It did 
+not then occur to me to give a name to the impatience that 
+seeks to gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles.
+
+I turned back, retraced my steps till I came to the track of 
+the mules.  Luckily the ground retained the footprints, 
+though sometimes these would be lost for a hundred yards or 
+so.  Just as I anticipated - Samson had wound round the base 
+of the very first hill he came to; then, instead of 
+correcting the deviation, and steering for the mountains, had 
+simply followed his nose, and was now travelling due east, - 
+in other words, was going back over our track of the day 
+before.  It was past noon when I overtook him, so that a 
+precious day's labour was lost.
+
+I said little, but that little was a sentence of death.
+
+'After to-day,' I began, 'we will travel separately.'
+
+At first he seemed hardly to take in my meaning.  I explained 
+it.
+
+'As well as I can make out, before we get to the Dalles, 
+where we ought to find the American outposts, we have only 
+about 150 miles to go.  This should not take more than eight 
+or nine days.  I can do it in a week alone, but not with you.  
+I have come to the conclusion that with you I may not be able 
+to do it at all.  We have still those mountains' - pointing 
+to the Blue Mountain range in the distance - 'to cross.  They 
+are covered with snow, as you see.  We may find them 
+troublesome.  In any case our food will only last eight or 
+nine days more, even at the present rate.  You shall have the 
+largest half of what is left, for you require more than I do.  
+But I cannot, and will not, sacrifice my life for your sake.  
+I have made up my mind to leave you.'
+
+It must always be a terrible thing for a judge to pass the 
+sentence of death.  But then he is fulfilling a duty, merely 
+carrying out a law which is not of his making.  Moreover, he 
+has no option - the responsibility rests with the jury; last 
+of all, the sufferer is a criminal.  Between the judge's case 
+and mine there was no analogy.  My act was a purely selfish 
+one - justifiable I still think, though certainly not 
+magnanimous.  I was quite aware of this at the time, but a 
+starving man is not burdened with generosity.
+
+I dismounted, and, without unsaddling the mules, took off 
+their packs, now reduced to a few pounds, which was all the 
+wretched, raw-backed, and half-dead, animals could stagger 
+under; and, putting my blanket, the remains of a ham, and a 
+little packet of tea - some eight or ten tea-spoonfuls - on 
+one mule, I again prepared to mount my horse and depart.
+
+I took, as it were, a sneaking glance at Samson.  He was 
+sitting upon the ground, with his face between his knees, 
+sobbing.
+
+At three-and-twenty the heart of a man, or of a woman - if 
+either has any, which, of course, may be doubtful - is apt to 
+play the dynamite with his or her resolves.  Water-drops have 
+ever been formidable weapons of the latter, as we all know; 
+and, not being so accustomed to them then as I have become 
+since, the sight of the poor devil's abject woe and 
+destitution, the thought that illness and suffering were the 
+causes, the secret whisper that my act was a cowardly one, 
+forced me to follow the lines of least resistance, and submit 
+to the decrees of destiny.
+
+One more page from my 'Ride,' and the reader will, I think, 
+have a fair conception of its general character.  For the 
+last two hours the ascent of the Blue Mountains had been very 
+steep.  We were in a thick pine forest.  There was a track - 
+probably made by Indians.  Near the summit we found a spring 
+of beautiful water.  Here we halted for the night.  It was a 
+snug spot.  But, alas! there was nothing for the animals to 
+eat except pine needles.  We lighted our fire against the 
+great up-torn roots of a fallen tree; and, though it was 
+freezing hard, we piled on such masses of dead boughs that 
+the huge blaze seemed to warm the surrounding atmosphere.
+
+I must here give the words of my journal, for one exclamation 
+in it has a sort of schoolboy ring that recalls the buoyancy 
+of youthful spirits, the spirits indeed to which in early 
+life we owe our enterprise and perseverance:
+
+'As I was dozing off, a pack of hungry wolves that had 
+scented us out set up the most infernal chorus ever heard.  
+In vain I pulled the frozen buffalo-robe over my head, and 
+tried to get to sleep.  The demons drew nearer and nearer, 
+howling, snarling, fighting, moaning, and making a row in the 
+perfect stillness which reigned around, as if hell itself 
+were loose.  For some time I bore it with patience.  At 
+length, jumping up, I yelled in a voice that made the valley 
+ring:  You devils! will you be quiet?  The appeal was 
+immediately answered by silence; but hearing them tuning up 
+for a second concert, I threw some wood on the blazing fire 
+and once more retired to my lair.  For a few minutes I lay 
+awake to admire a brilliant Aurora Borealis shooting out its 
+streams of electric light.  Then, turning over on my side, I 
+never moved again till dawn.'
+
+The first objects that caught my eye were the animals.  They 
+were huddled together within a couple of yards of where we 
+lay.  It was a horrible sight.  Two out of the three mules, 
+and Samson's horse, had been attacked by the wolves.  The 
+flanks of the horse were terribly torn, and the entrails of 
+both the mules were partially hanging out.  Though all three 
+were still standing with their backs arched, they were 
+rapidly dying from loss of blood.  My dear little ' 
+Strawberry' - as we called him to match William's 'Cream' and 
+my mare were both intact.
+
+A few days after this, Samson's remaining horse gave out.  I 
+had to surrender what remained of my poor beast in order to 
+get my companion through.  The last fifty miles of the 
+journey I performed on foot; sometimes carrying my rifle to 
+relieve the staggering little mule of a few pounds extra 
+weight.  At long last the Dalles hove in sight.  And our cry, 
+'The tents! the tents!' echoed the joyous 'Thalassa! 
+Thalassa!' of the weary Greeks.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+
+'WHERE is the tent of the commanding officer?' I asked of the 
+first soldier I came across.
+
+He pointed to one on the hillside.  'Ags for Major Dooker,' 
+was the Dutch-accented answer.
+
+Bidding Samson stay where he was, I made my way as directed.  
+A middle-aged officer in undress uniform was sitting on an 
+empty packing-case in front of his tent, whittling a piece of 
+its wood.
+
+'Pray sir,' said I in my best Louis Quatorze manner, 'have I 
+the pleasure of speaking to Major Dooker?'
+
+'Tucker, sir.  And who the devil are you?'
+
+Let me describe what the Major saw:  A man wasted by 
+starvation to skin and bone, blackened, almost, by months of 
+exposure to scorching suns; clad in the shreds of what had 
+once been a shirt, torn by every kind of convict labour, 
+stained by mud and the sweat and sores of mules; the rags of 
+a shooting coat to match; no head covering; hands festering 
+with sores, and which for weeks had not touched water - if 
+they could avoid it.  Such an object, in short, as the genius 
+of a Phil May could alone have depicted as the most repulsive 
+object he could imagine.
+
+'Who the devil are you?'
+
+'An English gentleman, sir, travelling for pleasure.'
+
+He smiled.  'You look more like a wild beast.'
+
+'I am quite tame, sir, I assure you - could even eat out of 
+your hand if I had a chance.'
+
+'Is your name Coke?'
+
+'Yes,' was my amazed reply.
+
+'Then come with me - I will show you something that may 
+surprise you.'
+
+I followed him to a neighbouring tent.  He drew aside the 
+flap of it, and there on his blanket lay Fred Calthorpe, 
+snoring in perfect bliss.
+
+Our greetings were less restrained than our parting had been.  
+We were truly glad to meet again.  He had arrived just two 
+days before me, although he had been at Salt Lake City.  But 
+he had been able there to refit, had obtained ample supplies 
+and fresh animals.  Curiously enough, his Nelson - the 
+French-Canadian - had also been drowned in crossing the Snake 
+River.  His place, however, had been filled by another man, 
+and Jacob had turned out a treasure.  The good fellow greeted 
+me warmly.  And it was no slight compensation for bygone 
+troubles to be assured by him that our separation had led to 
+the final triumphal success.
+
+Fred and I now shared the same tent.  To show what habit will 
+do, it was many days before I could accustom myself to sleep 
+under cover of a tent even, and in preference slept, as I had 
+done for five months, under the stars.  The officers 
+liberally furnished us with clothing.  But their excessive 
+hospitality more nearly proved fatal to me than any peril I 
+had met with.  One's stomach had quite lost its discretion.  
+And forgetting that
+
+
+Famished people must be slowly nursed,
+And fed by spoonfuls, else they always burst,
+
+
+one never knew when to leave off eating.  For a few days I 
+was seriously ill.
+
+An absurd incident occurred to me here which might have had 
+an unpleasant ending.  Every evening, after dinner in the 
+mess tent, we played whist.  One night, quite by accident, 
+Fred and I happened to be partners.  The Major and another 
+officer made up the four.  The stakes were rather high.  We 
+two had had an extraordinary run of luck.  The Major's temper 
+had been smouldering for some time.  Presently the deal fell 
+to me; and as bad luck would have it, I dealt myself a 
+handful of trumps, and - all four honours.  As the last of 
+these was played, the now blazing Major dashed his cards on 
+the table, and there and then called me out.  The cooler 
+heads of two or three of the others, with whom Fred had had 
+time to make friends, to say nothing of the usual roar of 
+laughter with which he himself heard the challenge, brought 
+the matter to a peaceful issue.  The following day one of the 
+officers brought me a graceful apology.
+
+As may readily be supposed, we had no hankering for further 
+travels such as we had gone through.  San Francisco was our 
+destination; but though as unknown to us as Charles Lamb's 
+'Stranger,' we 'damned' the overland route 'at a venture'; 
+and settled, as there was no alternative, to go in a trading 
+ship to the Sandwich Islands thence, by the same means, to 
+California.
+
+On October 20 we procured a canoe large enough for seven or 
+eight persons; and embarking with our light baggage, Fred, 
+Samson, and I, took leave of the Dalles.  For some miles the 
+great river, the Columbia, runs through the Cascade 
+Mountains, and is confined, as heretofore, in a channel of 
+basaltic rock.  Further down it widens, and is ornamented by 
+groups of small wooded islands.  On one of these we landed to 
+rest our Indians and feed.  Towards evening we again put 
+ashore, at an Indian village, where we camped for the night.  
+The scenery here is magnificent.  It reminded me a little of 
+the Danube below Linz, or of the finest parts of the Elbe in 
+Saxon Switzerland.  But this is to compare the full-length 
+portrait with the miniature.  It is the grandeur of the scale 
+of the best of the American scenery that so strikes the 
+European.  Variety, however, has its charms; and before one 
+has travelled fifteen hundred miles on the same river - as 
+one may easily do in America - one begins to sigh for the 
+Rhine, or even for a trip from London to Greenwich, with a 
+white-bait dinner at the end of it.
+
+The day after, we descended the Cascades.  They are the 
+beginning of an immense fall in the level, and form a 
+succession of rapids nearly two miles long.  The excitement 
+of this passage is rather too great for pleasure.  It is like 
+being run away with by a 'motor' down a steep hill.  The bow 
+of the canoe is often several feet below the stern, as if 
+about to take a 'header.'  The water, in glassy ridges and 
+dark furrows, rushes headlong, and dashes itself madly 
+against the reefs which crop up everywhere.  There is no 
+time, one thinks, to choose a course, even if steerage, which 
+seems absurd, were possible.  One is hurled along at railway 
+speed.  The upreared rock, that a moment ago seemed a hundred 
+yards off, is now under the very bow of the canoe.  One 
+clenches one's teeth, holds one's breath, one's hour is 
+surely come.  But no - a shout from the Indians, a magic 
+stroke of the paddle in the bow, another in the stern, and 
+the dreaded crag is far above out heads, far, far behind; 
+and, for the moment, we are gliding on - undrowned.
+
+At the lower end of the rapids (our Indians refusing to go 
+further), we had to debark.  A settler here was putting up a 
+zinc house for a store.  Two others, with an officer of the 
+Mounted Rifles - the regiment we had left at the Dalles - 
+were staying with him.  They welcomed our arrival, and 
+insisted on our drinking half a dozen of poisonous stuff they 
+called champagne.  There were no chairs or table in the 
+'house,' nor as yet any floor; and only the beginning of a 
+roof.  We sat on the ground, so that I was able 
+surreptitiously to make libations with my share, to the 
+earth.
+
+According to my journal:  'In a short time the party began to 
+be a noisy one.  Healths were drunk, toasts proposed, 
+compliments to our respective nationalities paid in the most 
+flattering terms.  The Anglo-Saxon race were destined to 
+conquer the globe.  The English were the greatest nation 
+under the sun - that is to say, they had been.  America, of 
+course, would take the lead in time to come.  We disputed 
+this.  The Americans were certain of it, in fact this was 
+already an accomplished fact.  The big officer - a genuine 
+"heavy" - wanted to know where the man was that would give 
+him the lie!  Wasn't the Mounted Rifles the crack regiment of 
+the United States army?  And wasn't the United States army 
+the finest army in the universe?  Who that knew anything of 
+history would compare the Peninsular Campaign to the war in 
+Mexico?  Talk of Waterloo - Britishers were mighty fond of 
+swaggering about Waterloo!  Let 'em look at Chepultapec.  As 
+for Wellington, he couldn't shine nohow with General Scott, 
+nor old Zack neither!'
+
+Then, WE wished for a war, just to let them see what our 
+crack cavalry regiments could do.  Mounted Rifles forsooth!  
+Mounted costermongers! whose trade it was to sell 'nutmegs 
+made of wood, and clocks that wouldn't figure.'  Then some 
+pretty forcible profanity was vented, fists were shaken, and 
+the zinc walls were struck, till they resounded like the 
+threatened thunder of artillery.
+
+But Fred's merry laughter diverted the tragic end.  It was 
+agreed that there had been too much tall talk.  Britishers 
+and Americans were not such fools as to quarrel.  Let 
+everybody drink everybody else's health.  A gentleman in the 
+corner (he needed the support of both walls) thought it 
+wasn't good to 'liquor up' too much on an empty stomach; he 
+put it to the house that we should have supper.  The motion 
+was carried NEM. CON., and a Dutch cheese was produced with 
+much ECLAT.  Samson coupled the ideas of Dutch cheeses and 
+Yankee hospitality.  This revived the flagging spirit of 
+emulation.  On one side, it was thought that British manners 
+were susceptible of amendment.  Confusion was then 
+respectively drunk to Yankee hospitality, English manners, 
+and - this was an addition of Fred's - to Dutch cheeses.  
+After which, to change the subject, a song was called for, 
+and a gentleman who shall be nameless, for there was a little 
+mischief in the choice, sang 'Rule Britannia.'  Not being 
+encored, the singer drank to the flag that had braved the 
+battle and the breeze for nearly ninety years.  'Here's to 
+Uncle Sam, and his stars and stripes.'  The mounted officer 
+rose to his legs (with difficulty) and declared 'that he 
+could not, and would not, hear his country insulted any 
+longer.  He begged to challenge the "crowd."  He regretted 
+the necessity, but his feelings had been wounded, and he 
+could not - no, he positively could not stand it.'  A slight 
+push from Samson proved the fact - the speaker fell, to rise 
+no more.  The rest of the company soon followed his example, 
+and shortly afterwards there was no sound but that of the 
+adjacent rapids.
+
+Early next morning the settler's boat came up, and took us a 
+mile down the river, where we found a larger one to convey us 
+to Fort Vancouver.  The crew were a Maltese sailor and a man 
+who had been in the United States army.  Each had his private 
+opinions as to her management.  Naturally, the Maltese should 
+have been captain, but the soldier was both supercargo and 
+part owner, and though it was blowing hard and the sails were 
+fully large, the foreigner, who was but a poor little 
+creature, had to obey orders.
+
+As the river widened and grew rougher, we were wetted from 
+stem to stern at every plunge; and when it became evident 
+that the soldier could not handle the sails if the Maltese 
+was kept at the helm, the heavy rifleman who was on board, 
+declaring that he knew the river, took upon himself to steer 
+us.  In a few minutes the boat was nearly swamped.  The 
+Maltese prayed and blasphemed in language which no one 
+understood.  The oaths of the soldier were intelligible 
+enough.  The 'heavy,' now alarmed, nervously asked what had 
+better be done.  My advice was to grease the bowsprit, let go 
+the mast, and splice the main brace.  'In another minute or 
+two,' I added, 'you'll steer us all to the bottom.'
+
+Fred, who thought it no time for joking, called the rifleman 
+a 'damned fool,' and authoritatively bade him give up the 
+tiller; saying that I had been in Her Majesty's Navy, and 
+perhaps knew a little more about boats than he did.  To this 
+the other replied that 'he didn't want anyone to learn him; 
+he reckon'd he'd been raised to boating as well as the next 
+man, and he'd be derned if he was going to trust his life to 
+anybody!'  Samson, thinking no doubt of his own, took his 
+pipe out of his mouth, and towering over the steersman, flung 
+him like a child on one side.  In an instant I was in his 
+place.
+
+It was a minute or two before the boat had way enough to 
+answer the helm.  By that time we were within a dozen yards 
+of a reef.  Having noticed, however, that the little craft 
+was quick in her stays, I kept her full till the last, put 
+the helm down, and round she spun in a moment.  Before I 
+could thank my stars, the pintle, or hook on which the rudder 
+hangs, broke off.  The tiller was knocked out of my hand, and 
+the boat's head flew into the wind.  'Out with the sweeps,' I 
+shouted.  But the sweeps were under the gear.  All was 
+confusion and panic.  The two men cursed in the names of 
+their respective saints.  The 'heavy' whined, 'I told you how 
+it w'd be.'  Samson struggled valiantly to get at an oar, 
+while Fred, setting the example, begged all hands to be calm, 
+and be ready to fend the stern off the rocks with a boathook.  
+As we drifted into the surf I was wondering how many bumps 
+she would stand before she went to pieces.  Happily the water 
+shallowed, and the men, by jumping overboard, managed to drag 
+the boat through the breakers under the lee of the point.  We 
+afterwards drew her up on to the beach, kindled a fire, got 
+out some provisions, and stayed till the storm was over.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+
+WHAT was then called Fort Vancouver was a station of the 
+Hudson's Bay Company.  We took up our quarters here till one 
+of the company's vessels - the 'Mary Dare,' a brig of 120 
+tons, was ready to sail for the Sandwich Islands.  This was 
+about the most uncomfortable trip I ever made.  A sailing 
+merchant brig of 120 tons, deeply laden, is not exactly a 
+pleasure yacht; and 2,000 miles is a long voyage.  For ten 
+days we lay at anchor at the mouth of the Columbia, detained 
+by westerly gales.  A week after we put to sea, all our fresh 
+provisions were consumed, and we had to live on our cargo - 
+dried salmon.  We three and the captain more than filled the 
+little hole of a cabin.  There wasn't even a hammock, and we 
+had to sleep on the deck, or on the lockers.  The fleas, the 
+cockroaches, and the rats, romped over and under one all 
+night.  Not counting the time it took to go down the river, 
+or the ten days we were kept at its mouth, we were just six 
+weeks at sea before we reached Woahoo, on Christmas Day.
+
+How beautiful the islands looked as we passed between them, 
+with a fair wind and studding sails set alow and aloft.  
+Their tropical charms seemed more glowing, the water bluer, 
+the palm trees statelier, the vegetation more libertine than 
+ever.  On the south the land rises gradually from the shore 
+to a range of lofty mountains.  Immediately behind Honolulu - 
+the capital - a valley with a road winding up it leads to the 
+north side of the island.  This valley is, or was then, 
+richly cultivated, principally with TARO, a large root not 
+unlike the yam.  Here and there native huts were dotted 
+about, with gardens full of flowers, and abundance of 
+tropical fruit.  Higher up, where it becomes too steep for 
+cultivation, growth of all kind is rampant.  Acacias, 
+oranges, maples, bread-fruit, and sandal-wood trees, rear 
+their heads above the tangled ever-greens.  The high peaks, 
+constantly in the clouds, arrest the moisture of the ocean 
+atmosphere, and countless rills pour down the mountain sides, 
+clothing everything in perpetual verdure.  The climate is one 
+of the least changeable in the world; the sea breeze blows 
+day and night, and throughout the year the day temperature 
+does not vary more than five or six degrees, the average 
+being about eighty-three degrees Fahrenheit in the shade.  In 
+1850 the town of Honolulu was little else than a native 
+village of grass and mat huts.  Two or three merchants had 
+good houses.  In one of these Fred and Samson were domiciled; 
+there was no such thing as a hotel.  I was the guest of 
+General Miller, the Consul-General.  What changes may have 
+taken place since the above date I have no means of knowing.  
+So far as the natives go, the change will assuredly have been 
+for the worse; for the aborigines, in all parts of the world, 
+lose their primitive simplicity and soon acquire the worst 
+vices of civilisation.
+
+Even King Tamehameha III. was not innocent of one of them.  
+General Miller offered to present us at court, but he had to 
+give several days' notice in order that his Majesty might be 
+sufficiently sober to receive us.  A negro tailor from the 
+United States fitted us out with suits of black, and on the 
+appointed day we put ourselves under the shade of the old 
+General's cocked hat, and marched in a body to the palace.  A 
+native band, in which a big drum had the leading part, 
+received us with 'God save the Queen' - whether in honour of 
+King Tamy, or of his visitors, was not divulged.  We were 
+first introduced to a number of chiefs in European uniforms - 
+except as to their feet, which were mostly bootless.  Their 
+names sounded like those of the state officers in Mr. 
+Gilbert's 'Mikado.'  I find in my journal one entered as 
+Tovey-tovey, another as Kanakala.  We were then conducted to 
+the presence chamber by the Foreign Minister, Mr. Wiley, a 
+very pronounced Scotch gentleman with a star of the first 
+magnitude on his breast.  The King was dressed as an English 
+admiral.  The Queen, whose ample undulations also reminded 
+one of the high seas, was on his right; while in perfect 
+gradation on her right again were four princesses in short 
+frocks and long trousers, with plaited tails tied with blue 
+ribbon, like the Miss Kenwigs.  A little side dispute arose 
+between the stiff old General and the Foreign Minister as to 
+whose right it was to present us.  The Consul carried the 
+day; but the Scot, not to be beaten, informed Tamehameha, in 
+a long prefatory oration, of the object of the ceremony.  
+Taking one of us by the hand (I thought the peppery old 
+General would have thrust him aside), Mr. Wiley told the King 
+that it was seldom the Sandwich Islands were 'veesited' by 
+strangers of such 'desteenction' - that the Duke of this 
+(referring to Fred's relations), and Lord the other, were the 
+greatest noblemen in the world; then, with much solemnity, 
+quoted a long speech from Shakespeare, and handed us over to 
+his rival.
+
+His Majesty, who did not understand a word of English, or 
+Scotch, looked grave and held tight to the arm of the throne; 
+for the truth is, that although he had relinquished his 
+bottle for the hour, he had brought its contents with him.  
+My salaam was soon made; but as I retired backwards I had the 
+misfortune to set my heel on the toes of a black-and-tan 
+terrier, a privileged pet of the General's.  The shriek of 
+the animal and the loss of my equilibrium nearly precipitated 
+me into the arms of a trousered princess; but the amiable 
+young lady only laughed.  Thus ended my glimpse of the 
+Hawaian Court.  Mr. Wiley afterwards remarked to me:  'We do 
+things in a humble way, ye'll obsairve; but royalty is 
+royalty all over the world, and His Majesty Tamehameha is as 
+much Keng of his ain domeenions as Victoria is Queen of 
+Breetain.' The relativity of greatness was not to be denied.
+
+The men - Kanakas, as they are called - are fine stalwart 
+fellows above our average height.  The only clothing they 
+then wore was the MARO, a cloth made by themselves of the 
+acacia bark.  This they pass between the legs, and once or 
+twice round the loins.  The WYHEENES - women - formerly wore 
+nothing but a short petticoat or kilt of the same material.  
+By persuasion of the missionaries they have exchanged this 
+simple garment for a chemise of printed calico, with the 
+waist immediately under the arms so as to conceal the contour 
+of the figure.  Other clothing have they none.
+
+Are they the more chaste?  Are they the less seductive -?  
+Hear what M. Anatole France says in his apostrophe to the 
+sex:  'Pour faire de vous la terrible merveille que vous etes 
+aujourd'hui, pour devenir la cause indifferente et souveraine 
+des sacrifices et des crimes, il vous a fallu deux choses:  
+la civilisation qui vous donna des voiles, et la religion qui 
+vous donna des scrupules.'  The translation of which is 
+(please take note of it, my dear young ladies with 'les 
+epaules qui ne finissent pas'):
+
+
+'Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
+Are sweeter.'
+
+
+Be this as it may, these chocolate-skinned beauties, with 
+their small and regular features, their rosy lips, their 
+perfect teeth - of which they take great care - their 
+luxurious silky tresses, their pretty little hands and naked 
+feet, and their exquisite forms, would match the matchless 
+Cleopatra.
+
+Through the kindness of Fred's host, the principal merchant 
+in the island, we were offered an opportunity of becoming 
+acquainted with the ELITE of the Honolulu nymphs.  Mr. S. 
+invited us to what is called a LOOHOU feast got up by him for 
+their entertainment.  The head of one of the most picturesque 
+valleys in Woahoo was selected for the celebration of this 
+ancient festival.  Mounted on horses with which Mr. S. had 
+furnished us, we repaired in a party to the appointed spot.  
+It was early in the afternoon when we reached it; none of the 
+guests had arrived, excepting a few Kanakas, who were engaged 
+in thatching an old shed as shelter from the sun, and 
+strewing the ground with a thick carpet of palm-leaves.  Ere 
+long, a cavalcade of between thirty and forty amazons - they 
+all rode astride - came racing up the valley at full speed, 
+their merry shouts proclaiming their approach.  Gaudy strips 
+of MARO were loosely folded around their legs for skirts.  
+Their pretty little straw hats trimmed with ribbons, or their 
+uncovered heads with their long hair streaming in the wind, 
+confined only by a wreath of fresh orange flowers, added to 
+their irresistible charm.  Certainly, the bravest soldiers 
+could not have withstood their charge.  No men, however, were 
+admitted, save those who had been expressly invited; but each 
+lady of importance was given a CARTE BLANCHE to bring as many 
+of her own sex as she pleased, provided they were both pretty 
+and respectable.
+
+As they rode up, we cavaliers, with becoming gallantry, 
+offered our assistance while they dismounted.  Smitten 
+through and through by the bright eyes of one little houri 
+who possessed far more than her share of the first 
+requirement, and, taking the second for granted, I 
+courteously prepared to aid her to alight; when, to my 
+discomfiture, instead of a gracious acknowledgment of my 
+services, she gave me a sharp cut with her whip.  As, 
+however, she laughed merrily at my wry faces, I accepted the 
+act as a scratch of the kitten's claws; at least, it was no 
+sign of indifference, and giving myself the benefit of the 
+doubt, lifted her from her saddle without further 
+chastisement, except a coquettish smile that wounded, alas! 
+more than it healed.
+
+The feast was thus prepared:  poultry, sucking-pigs, and 
+puppies - the last, after being scalded and scraped, were 
+stuffed with vegetables and spices, rolled in plantain 
+leaves, and placed in the ground upon stones already heated.  
+More stones were then laid over them, and fires lighted on 
+the top of all.  While the cooking was in progress, the 
+Kanakas ground TARO roots for the paste called 'poe'; the 
+girls danced and sang.  The songs were devoid of melody, 
+being musical recitations of imaginary love adventures, 
+accompanied by swayings of the body and occasional choral 
+interruptions, all becoming more and more excited as the 
+story or song approached its natural climax.  Sometimes this 
+was varied by a solitary dancer starting from the circle, and 
+performing the wildest bacchanalian antics, to the vocal 
+incitement of the rest.  This only ended with physical 
+exhaustion, or collapse from feminine hysteria.
+
+The food was excellent; the stuffed puppy was a dish for an 
+epicure.  Though knives and forks were unknown, and each 
+helped herself from the plantain leaf, one had not the least 
+objection to do likewise, for the most scrupulous cleanliness 
+is one of the many merits of these fascinating creatures.  
+Before every dip into the leaf, the dainty little fingers 
+were plunged into bowls of fresh water provided for the 
+purpose.  Delicious fruit followed the substantial fare; a 
+small glass of KAVA - a juice extracted from a root of the 
+pepper tribe - was then served to all alike.  Having watched 
+the process of preparing the beverage, I am unable to speak 
+as to its flavour.  The making of it is remarkable.  A number 
+of women sit on the ground, chew the root, and spit its juice 
+into a bowl.  The liquor is kept till it ferments, after 
+which it becomes highly intoxicating.  I regret to say that 
+its potency was soon manifested on this occasion.  No sooner 
+did the poison set their wild blood tingling, than a free 
+fight began for the remaining gourds.  Such a scratching, 
+pulling of hair, clawing, kicking, and crying, were never 
+seen.  Only by main force did we succeed in restoring peace.  
+It is but fair to state that, except on the celebration of 
+one or two solemn and sacred rites such as that of the 
+LOOHOU, these island Thyades never touch fermented liquors.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+
+IT was an easier task when all was over to set the little 
+Amazons on their horses than to keep them there, for by the 
+time we had perched one on her saddle, or pad rather, and 
+adjusted her with the greatest nicety, another whom we had 
+just left would lose her balance and fall with a scream to 
+the ground.  It was almost as difficult as packing mules on 
+the prairie.  For my part it must be confessed that I left 
+the completion of the job to others.  Curious and 
+entertaining as the feast was, my whole attention was centred 
+and absorbed in Arakeeta, which that artful little 
+enchantress had the gift to know, and lashed me accordingly 
+with her eyes more cruelly than she had done with her whip.  
+I had got so far, you see, as to learn her name, the first 
+instalment of an intimacy which my demolished heart was 
+staked on perfecting.  I noticed that she refused the KAVA 
+with real or affected repugnance; and when the passage of 
+arms, and legs, began, she slipped away, caught her animal, 
+and with a parting laugh at me, started off for home.  There 
+was not the faintest shadow of encouragement in her saucy 
+looks to follow her.  Still, she was a year older than 
+Juliet, who was nearly fourteen; so, who could say what those 
+looks might veil?  Besides:
+
+
+Das Naturell der Frauen
+Ist so nah mit Kunst verwandt,
+
+
+that one might easily be mistaken.  Anyhow, flight provoked 
+pursuit; I jumped on to my horse, and raced along the plain 
+like mad.  She saw me coming, and flogged the more, but being 
+the better mounted of the two, by degrees I overhauled her.  
+As I ranged alongside, neither slackened speed; and reaching 
+out to catch her bridle, my knee hooked under the hollow of 
+hers, twisted her clean off her pad, and in a moment she lay 
+senseless on the ground.  I flung myself from my horse, and 
+laid her head upon my lap.  Good God! had I broken her neck!  
+She did not stir; her eyes were closed, but she breathed, and 
+her heart beat quickly.  I was wild with terror and remorse.  
+I looked back for aid, but the others had not started; we 
+were still a mile or more from Honolulu.  I knew not what to 
+do.  I kissed her forehead, I called her by her name.  But 
+she lay like a child asleep.  Presently her dazed eyes opened 
+and stared with wonderment, and then she smiled.  The tears, 
+I think, were on my cheeks, and seeing them, she put her arms 
+around my neck and - forgave me.
+
+She had fallen on her head and had been stunned.  I caught 
+the horses while she sat still, and we walked them slowly 
+home.  When we got within sight of her hut on the outskirts 
+of the town, she would not let me go further.  There was 
+sadness in her look when we parted.  I made her understand (I 
+had picked up two or three words) that I would return to see 
+her.  She at once shook her head with an expression of 
+something akin to fear.  I too felt sorrowful, and worse than 
+sorrowful, jealous.
+
+When the night fell I sought her hut.  It was one of the 
+better kind, built like others mainly with matting; no doors 
+or windows, but with an extensive verandah which protected 
+the inner part from rain and sun.  Now and again I caught 
+glimpses of Arakeeta's fairy form flitting in, or obscuring, 
+the lamplight.  I could see two other women and two men.  Who 
+and what were they?  Was one of those dark forms an Othello, 
+ready to smother his Desdemona?  Or were either of them a 
+Valentine between my Marguerite and me?  Though there was no 
+moon, I dared not venture within the lamp's rays, for her 
+sake; for my own, I was reckless now - I would have thanked 
+either of them to brain me with his hoe.  But Arakeeta came 
+not.
+
+In the day-time I roamed about the district, about the TARO 
+fields, in case she might be working there.  Every evening 
+before sundown, many of the women and some of the well-to-do 
+men, and a few whites, used to ride on the plain that 
+stretches along the shore between the fringe of palm groves 
+and the mountain spurs.  I had seen Arakeeta amongst them 
+before the LOOHOU feast.  She had given this up now, and why?  
+Night after night I hovered about the hut.  When she was in 
+the verandah I whispered her name.  She started and peered 
+into the dark, hesitated, then fled.  Again the same thing 
+happened.  She had heard me, she knew that I was there, but 
+she came not; no, wiser than I, she came not.  And though I 
+sighed:
+
+
+What is worth
+The rest of Heaven, the rest of earth?
+
+
+the shrewd little wench doubtless told herself:  'A quiet 
+life, without the fear of the broomstick.'
+
+Fred was impatient to be off, I had already trespassed too 
+long on the kind hospitality of General Miller, neither of us 
+had heard from England for more than a year, and the 
+opportunities of trading vessels to California seldom 
+offered.  A rare chance came - a fast-sailing brig, the 
+'Corsair,' was to leave in a few days for San Francisco.  The 
+captain was an Englishman, and had the repute of being a boon 
+companion and a good caterer.  We - I, passively - settled to 
+go.  Samson decided to remain.  He wanted to visit Owyhee.  
+He came on board with us, however; and, with a parting bumper 
+of champagne, we said 'Good-bye.'  That was the last I ever 
+saw of him.  The hardships had broken him down.  He died not 
+long after.
+
+The light breeze carried us slowly away - for the first time 
+for many long months with our faces to the east.  But it was 
+not 'merry' England that filled my juvenile fancies.  I 
+leaned upon the taffrail and watched this lovely land of the 
+'flowery food' fade slowly from my sight.  I had eaten of the 
+Lotus, and knew no wish but to linger on, to roam no more, to 
+return no more, to any home that was not Arakeeta's.
+
+This sort of feeling is not very uncommon in early life.  And 
+'out of sight, out of mind,' is also a known experience.  
+Long before we reached San Fr'isco I was again eager for 
+adventure.
+
+How magnificent is the bay!  One cannot see across it.  How 
+impatient we were to land!  Everything new.  Bearded dirty 
+heterogeneous crowds busy in all directions, - some running 
+up wooden and zinc houses, some paving the streets with 
+planks, some housing over ships beached for temporary 
+dwellings.  The sandy hills behind the infant town are being 
+levelled and the foreshore filled up.  A 'water surface' of 
+forty feet square is worth 5,000 dollars.  So that here and 
+there the shop-fronts are ships' broadsides.  Already there 
+is a theatre.  But the chief feature is the gambling saloons, 
+open night and day.  These large rooms are always filled with 
+from 300 to 400 people of every description - from 'judges' 
+and 'colonels' (every man is one or the other, who is nothing 
+else) to Parisian cocottes, and escaped convicts of all 
+nationalities.  At one end of the saloon is a bar, at the 
+other a band.  Dozens of tables are ranged around.  Monte, 
+faro, rouge-et-noir, are the games.  A large proportion of 
+the players are diggers in shirt-sleeves and butcher-boots, 
+belts round their waists for bowie knife and 'five shooters,' 
+which have to be surrendered on admittance.  They come with 
+their bags of nuggets or 'dust,' which is duly weighed, 
+stamped, and sealed by officials for the purpose.
+
+1 have still several specimens of the precious metal which I 
+captured, varying in size from a grain of wheat to a mustard 
+seed.
+
+The tables win enormously, and so do the ladies of pleasure; 
+but the winnings of these go back again to the tables.  Four 
+times, while we were here, differences of opinion arose 
+concerning points of 'honour,' and were summarily decided by 
+revolvers.  Two of the four were subsequently referred to 
+Judge 'Lynch.'
+
+Wishing to see the 'diggings,' Fred and I went to Sacramento 
+- about 150 miles up the river of that name.  This was but a 
+pocket edition of San Francisco, or scarcely that.  We 
+therefore moved to Marysville, which, from its vicinity to 
+the various branches of the Sacramento river, was the chief 
+depot for the miners of the 'wet diggin's' in Northern 
+California.  Here we were received by a Mr. Massett - a 
+curious specimen of the waifs and strays that turn up all 
+over the world in odd places, and whom one would be sure to 
+find in the moon if ever one went there.  He owned a little 
+one-roomed cabin, over the door of which was painted 'Offices 
+of the Marysville Herald.'  He was his own contributor and 
+'correspondent,' editor and printer, (the press was in a 
+corner of the room).  Amongst other avocations he was a 
+concert-giver, a comic reader, a tragic actor, and an 
+auctioneer.  He had the good temper and sanguine disposition 
+of a Mark Tapley.  After the golden days of California he 
+spent his life wandering about the globe; giving 
+'entertainments' in China, Japan, India, Australia.  Wherever 
+the English language is spoken, Stephen Massett had many 
+friends and no enemies.
+
+Fred slept on the table, I under it, and next morning we 
+hired horses and started for the 'Forks of the Yuba.'  A few 
+hours' ride brought us to the gold-hunters.  Two or three 
+hundred men were at work upon what had formerly been the bed 
+of the river.  By unwritten law, each miner was entitled to a 
+certain portion of the 'bar,' as it was called, in which the 
+gold is found.  And, as the precious metal has to be obtained 
+by washing, the allotments were measured by thirty feet on 
+the banks of the river and into the dry bed as far as this 
+extends; thus giving each man his allowance of water.  
+Generally three or four combined to possess a 'claim.'  Each 
+would then attend to his own department:  one loosened the 
+soil, another filled the barrow or cart, a third carried it 
+to the river, and the fourth would wash it in the 'rocker.'  
+The average weight of gold got by each miner while we were at 
+the 'wet diggin's,' I.E. where water had to be used, was 
+nearly half an ounce or seven dollars' worth a day.  We saw 
+three Englishmen who had bought a claim 30 feet by 100 feet, 
+for 1,400 dollars.  It had been bought and sold twice before 
+for considerable sums, each party supposing it to be nearly 
+'played out.'  In three weeks the Englishmen paid their 1,400 
+dollars and had cleared thirteen dollars a day apiece for 
+their labour.
+
+Our presence here created both curiosity and suspicion, for 
+each gang and each individual was very shy of his neighbour.  
+They did not believe our story of crossing the plains; they 
+themselves, for the most part, had come round the Horn; a few 
+across the isthmus.  Then, if we didn't want to dig, what did 
+we want?  Another peculiarity about us - a great one - was, 
+that, so far as they could see, we were unarmed.  At night 
+the majority, all except the few who had huts, slept in a 
+zinc house or sort of low-roofed barn, against the walls of 
+which were three tiers of bunks.  There was no room for us, 
+even if we had wished it, but we managed to hire a trestle.  
+Mattress or covering we had none.  As Fred and I lay side by 
+side, squeezed together in a trough scarcely big enough for 
+one, we heard two fellows by the door of the shed talking us 
+over.  They thought no doubt that we were fast asleep, they 
+themselves were slightly fuddled.  We nudged each other and 
+pricked up our ears, for we had already canvassed the 
+question of security, surrounded as we were by ruffians who 
+looked quite ready to dispose of babes in the wood.  They 
+discussed our 'portable property' which was nil; one decided, 
+while the other believed, that we must have money in our 
+pockets.  The first remarked that, whether or no, we were 
+unarmed; the other wasn't so sure about that - it wasn't 
+likely we'd come there to be skinned for the asking.  Then 
+arose the question of consequences, and it transpired that 
+neither of them had the courage of his rascality.  After a 
+bit, both agreed they had better turn in.  Tired as we were, 
+we fell asleep.  How long we had slumbered I know not, but 
+all of a sudden I was seized by the beard, and was conscious 
+of a report which in my dreams I took for a pistol-shot.  I 
+found myself on the ground amid the wrecks of the trestle.  
+Its joints had given way under the extra weight, and Fred's 
+first impulse had been to clutch at my throat.
+
+On the way back to San Francisco we stayed for a couple of 
+nights at Sacramento.  It was a miserable place, with nothing 
+but a few temporary buildings except those of the Spanish 
+settlers.  In the course of a walk round the town I noticed a 
+crowd collected under a large elm-tree in the horse-market.  
+On inquiry I was informed that a man had been lynched on one 
+of its boughs the night before last.  A piece of the rope was 
+still hanging from the tree.  When I got back to the 'hotel' 
+- a place not much better than the shed at Yuba Forks - I 
+found a newspaper with an account of the affair.  Drawing a 
+chair up to the stove, I was deep in the story, when a huge 
+rowdy-looking fellow in digger-costume interrupted me with:
+
+'Say, stranger, let's have a look at that paper, will ye?'
+
+'When I've done with it,' said I, and continued reading.  He 
+lent over the back of my chair, put one hand on my shoulder, 
+and with the other raised the paper so that he could read.
+
+'Caint see rightly.  Ah, reckon you're readen 'baout Jim, 
+ain't yer?'
+
+'Who's Jim?'
+
+'Him as they sus-spended yesterday mornin'.  Jim was a 
+purticler friend o' mine, and I help'd to hang him.'
+
+'A friendly act!  What was he hanged for?'
+
+'When did you come to Sacramenty City?'
+
+'Day before yesterday.'
+
+'Wal, I'll tell yer haow't was then.  Yer see, Jim was a 
+Britisher, he come from a place they call Botany Bay, which 
+belongs to Victoria, but ain't 'xactly in the Old Country.  I 
+judge, when he first come to Californy, 'baout six months 
+back, he warn't acquainted none with any boys hereaway, so he 
+took to diggin' by hisself.  It was up to Cigar Bar whar he 
+dug, and I chanst to be around there too, that's haow we got 
+to know one another.  Jim hadn't been here not a fortnight 
+'fore one of the boys lost 300 dollars as he'd made a cache 
+of.  Somehow suspicions fell on Jim.  More'n one of us 
+thought he'd been a diggin' for bags instead of for dust; and 
+the man as lost the money swore he'd hev a turn with him; so 
+Jim took my advice not to go foolin' around, an' sloped.'
+
+'Well,' said I, as my friend stopped to adjust his tobacco 
+plug, 'he wasn't hanged for that?'
+
+''Tain't likely!  Till last week nobody know'd whar he'd gone 
+to.  When he come to Sacramenty this time, he come with a 
+pile, an' no mistake.  All day and all night he used to play 
+at faro an' a heap o' other games.  Nobody couldn't tell how 
+he made his money hold out, nor whar he got it from; but 
+sartin sure the crowd reckoned as haow Jim was considerable 
+of a loafer.  One day a blacksmith as lives up Broad Street, 
+said he found out the way he done it, and ast me to come with 
+him and show up Jim for cheatin'.  Naow, whether it was as 
+Jim suspicioned the blacksmith I cain't say, but he didn't 
+cheat, and lost his money in consequence.  This riled him 
+bad, so wantin' to get quit of the blacksmith he began a 
+quarrel.  The blacksmith was a quick-tempered man, and after 
+some language struck Jim in the mouth.  Jim jumps up, and 
+whippin' out his revolver, shoots the t'other man dead on the 
+spot.  I was the first to lay hold on him, but ef it hadn't 
+'a' been for me they'd 'a' torn him to pieces.
+
+'"Send for Judge Parker," says some.
+
+'"Let's try him here," says others.
+
+'"I don't want to be tried at all," says Jim.  "You all know 
+bloody well as I shot the man.  And I knows bloody well as 
+I'll hev to swing for it.  Gi' me till daylight, and I'll die 
+like a man."
+
+'But we wasn't going to hang him without a proper trial; and 
+as the trial lasted two hours, it - '
+
+'Two hours!  What did you want two hours for?'
+
+'There was some as wanted to lynch him, and some as wanted 
+him tried by the reg'lar judges of the Crim'nal Court.  One 
+of the best speakers said lynch-law was no law at all, and no 
+innocent man's life was safe with it.  So there was a lot of 
+speakin', you bet.  By the time it was over it was just 
+daylight, and the majority voted as he should die at onc't.  
+So they took him to the horse-market, and stood him on a 
+table under the big elm.  I kep' by his side, and when he was 
+getting on the table he ast me to lend him my revolver to 
+shoot the foreman of the jury.  When I wouldn't, he ast me to 
+tie the knot so as it wouldn't slip.  "It ain't no account, 
+Jim," says I, "to talk like that.  You're bound to die; and 
+ef they didn't hang yer I'd shoot yer myself."
+
+'"Well then," says he, "gi' me hold of the rope, and I'll 
+show you how little I keer for death."  He snatches the cord 
+out o' my hands, pulls hisself out o' reach o' the crowd, and 
+sat cross-legged on the bough.  Half a dozen shooters was 
+raised to fetch him down, but he tied a noose in the rope, 
+put it round his neck, slipped it puty tight, and stood up on 
+the bough and made 'em a speech.  What he mostly said was as 
+he hated 'em all.  He cussed the man he shot, then he cussed 
+the world, then he cussed hisself, and with a terr'ble oath 
+he jumped off the bough, and swung back'ards and for'ards 
+with his neck broke.'
+
+'An Englishman,' I reflected aloud.
+
+He nodded.  'You're a Britisher, I reckon, ain't yer?'
+
+'Yes; why?'
+
+'Wal, you've a puty strong accent.'
+
+'Think so?'
+
+'Wal, I could jest tie a knot in it.'
+
+This is a vulgar and repulsive story.  But it is not fiction; 
+and any picture of Californian life in 1850, without some 
+such faithful touch of its local colour, would be inadequate 
+and misleading.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+
+A STEAMER took us down to Acapulco.  It is probably a 
+thriving port now.  When we were there, a few native huts and 
+two or three stone buildings at the edge of the jungle 
+constituted the 'town.'  We bought some horses, and hired two 
+men - a Mexican and a Yankee - for our ride to the city of 
+Mexico.  There was at that time nothing but a mule-track, and 
+no public conveyance of any kind.  Nothing could exceed the 
+beauty of the scenery.  Within 160 miles, as the crow flies, 
+one rises up to the city of Mexico some 12,000 feet, with 
+Popocatepetl overhanging it 17,500 feet high.  In this short 
+space one passes from intense tropical heat and vegetation to 
+pines and laurels and the proximity of perpetual snows.  The 
+path in places winds along the brink of precipitous 
+declivities, from the top of which one sees the climatic 
+gradations blending one into another.  So narrow are some of 
+the mountain paths that a mule laden with ore has often one 
+panier overhanging the valley a thousand feet below it.  
+Constantly in the long trains of animals descending to the 
+coast, a slip of the foot or a charge from behind, for they 
+all come down the steep track with a jolting shuffle, sends 
+mule and its load over the ledge.  We found it very difficult 
+in places to get out of the way in time to let the trains 
+pass.  Flocks of parrots and great macaws screeching and 
+flying about added to the novelty of the scene.
+
+The villages, inhabited by a cross between the original 
+Indians and the Spaniards, are about twenty miles apart.  At 
+one of these we always stayed for the night, sleeping in 
+grass hammocks suspended between the posts of the verandah.  
+The only travellers we fell in with were a party of four 
+Americans, returning to the Eastern States from California 
+with the gold they had won there.  They had come in our 
+steamer to Acapulco, and had left it a few hours before we 
+did.  As the villages were so far apart we necessarily had to 
+stop at night in the same one.  The second time this happened 
+they, having arrived first, had quartered themselves on the 
+Alcalde or principal personage of the place.  Our guide took 
+us to the same house; and although His Worship, who had a 
+better supply of maize for the horses, and a few more 
+chickens to sell than the other natives, was anxious to 
+accommodate us, the four Americans, a very rough-looking lot 
+and armed to the teeth, wouldn't hear of it, but peremptorily 
+bade us put up elsewhere.  Our own American, who was much 
+afraid of them, obeyed their commands without more ado.  It 
+made not the slightest difference to us, for one grass 
+hammock is as soft as another, and the Alcalde's chickens 
+were as tough as ours.
+
+Before the morning start, two of the diggers, rifles in hand, 
+came over to us and plainly told us they objected to our 
+company.  Fred, with perfect good humour, assured them we had 
+no thought of robbing them, and that as the villages were so 
+far apart we had no choice in the matter.  However, as they 
+wished to travel separate from us, if there should be two 
+villages at all within suitable distances, they could stop at 
+one and we at the other.  There the matter rested.  But our 
+guide was more frightened than ever.  They were four to two, 
+he argued, for neither he nor the Mexican were armed.  And 
+there was no saying, etc., etc. . . . In short we had better 
+stay where we were till they got through.  Fred laughed at 
+the fellow's alarm, and told him he might stop if he liked, 
+but we meant to go on.
+
+As usual, when we reached the next stage, the diggers were 
+before us; and when our men began to unsaddle at a hut about 
+fifty yards from where they were feeding their horses, one of 
+them, the biggest blackguard to look at of the lot, and 
+though the fiercest probably the greatest cur, shouted at us 
+to put the saddles on again and 'get out of that.'  He had 
+warned us in the morning that they'd had enough of us, and, 
+with a volley of oaths, advised us to be off.  Fred, who was 
+in his shirt-sleeves, listened at first with a look of 
+surprise at such cantankerous unreasonableness; but when the 
+ruffian fell to swear and threaten, he burst into one of his 
+contemptuous guffaws, turned his back and began to feed his 
+horse with a corncob.  Thus insulted, the digger ran into the 
+hut (as I could see) to get his rifle.  I snatched up my own, 
+which I had been using every day to practise at the large 
+iguanas and macaws, and, well protected by my horse, called 
+out as I covered him, 'This is a double-barrelled rifle.  If 
+you raise yours I'll drop you where you stand.'  He was 
+forestalled and taken aback.  Probably he meant nothing but 
+bravado.  Still, the situation was a critical one.  Obviously 
+I could not wait till he had shot my friend.  But had it come 
+to shooting there would have been three left, unless my 
+second barrel had disposed of another.  Fortunately the 
+'boss' of the digging party gauged the gravity of the crisis 
+at a glance; and instead of backing him up as expected, swore 
+at him for a 'derned fool,' and ordered him to have no more 
+to do with us.
+
+After that, as we drew near to the city, the country being 
+more thickly populated, we no longer clashed.
+
+This is not a guide-book, and I have nothing to tell of that 
+readers would not find better described in their 'Murray.'  
+We put up in an excellent hotel kept by M. Arago, the brother 
+of the great French astronomer.  The only other travellers in 
+it besides ourselves were the famous dancer Cerito, and her 
+husband the violin virtuoso, St. Leon.  Luckily for me our 
+English Minister was Mr. Percy Doyle, whom I had known as 
+ATTACHE at Paris when I was at Larue, and who was a great 
+friend of the De Cubriers.  We were thus provided with many 
+advantages for 'sight-seeing' in and about the city, and also 
+for more distant excursions through credentials from the 
+Mexican authorities.  Under these auspices we visited the 
+silver mines at Guadalajara, Potosi, and Guanajuata.
+
+The life in Mexico city was delightful, after a year's tramp.  
+The hotel, as I have said, was to us luxurious.  My room 
+under the verandah opened on to a large and beautiful garden 
+partially enclosed on two sides.  As I lay in bed of a 
+morning reading Prescott's 'History of Mexico,' or watching 
+the brilliant humming birds as they darted from flower to 
+flower, and listened to the gentle plash of the fountain, my 
+cup of enjoyment and romance was brimming over.
+
+Just before I left, an old friend of mine arrived from 
+England.  This was Mr. Joseph Clissold.  He was a 
+schoolfellow of mine at Sheen.  He had pulled in the 
+Cambridge boat, and played in the Cambridge eleven.  He 
+afterwards became a magistrate either in Australia or New 
+Zealand.  He was the best type of the good-natured, level-
+headed, hard-hitting Englishman.  Curiously enough, as it 
+turned out, the greater part of the only conversation we had 
+(I was leaving the day after he came) was about the 
+brigandage on the road between Mexico and Vera Cruz.  He told 
+me the passengers in the diligence which had brought him up 
+had been warned at Jalapa that the road was infested by 
+robbers; and should the coach be stopped they were on no 
+account to offer resistance, for the robbers would certainly 
+shoot them if they did.
+
+Fred chose to ride down to the coast, I went by coach.  This 
+held six inside and two by the driver.  Three of the inside 
+passengers sat with backs to the horses, the others facing 
+them.  My coach was full, and stifling hot and stuffy it was 
+before we had done with it.  Of the five others two were fat 
+priests, and for twenty hours my place was between them.  But 
+in one way I had my revenge:  I carried my loaded rifle 
+between my knees, and a pistol in my belt.  The dismay, the 
+terror, the panic, the protestations, the entreaties and 
+execrations of all the five, kept us at least from ENNUI for 
+many a weary mile.  I doubt whether the two priests ever 
+thumbed their breviaries so devoutly in their lives.  Perhaps 
+that brought us salvation.  We reached Vera Cruz without 
+adventure, and in the autumn of '51 Fred and I landed safely 
+at Southampton.
+
+Two months after I got back, I read an account in the 'Times' 
+of 'Joe' Clissold's return trip from Mexico.  The coach in 
+which he was travelling was stopped by robbers.  Friend 
+Joseph was armed with a double-barrelled smooth-bore loaded 
+with slugs.  He considered this on the whole more suitable 
+than a rifle.  When the captain of the brigands opened the 
+coach door and, pistol in hand, politely proffered his 
+request, Mr. Joe was quite ready for him, and confided the 
+contents of one barrel to the captain's bosom.  Seeing the 
+fate of their commander, and not knowing what else the dilly 
+might contain, the rest of the band dug spurs into their 
+horses and fled.  But the sturdy oarsman and smart cricketer 
+was too quick for one of them - the horse followed his 
+friends, but the rider stayed with his chief.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+
+
+THE following winter, my friend, George Cayley, was ordered 
+to the south for his health.  He went to Seville.  I joined 
+him there; and we took lodgings and remained till the spring.  
+As Cayley published an amusing account of our travels, 'Las 
+Aforjas, or the Bridle Roads of Spain,' as this is more than 
+fifty years ago - before the days of railways and tourists - 
+and as I kept no journal of my own, I will make free use of 
+his.
+
+A few words will show the terms we were on.
+
+I had landed at Cadiz, and had gone up the Guadalquivir in a 
+steamer, whose advent at Seville my friend was on the look-
+out for.  He describes his impatience for her arrival.  By 
+some mistake he is misinformed as to the time; he is a 
+quarter of an hour late.
+
+'A remnant of passengers yet bustled around the luggage, 
+arguing, struggling and bargaining with a contentious company 
+of porters.  Alas! H. was not to be seen among them.  There 
+was still a chance; he might be one of the passengers who had 
+got ashore before my coming down, and I was preparing to rush 
+back to the city to ransack the hotels.  Just then an 
+internal convulsion shook the swarm around the luggage pile; 
+out burst a little Gallego staggering under a huge British 
+portmanteau, and followed by its much desired, and now almost 
+despaired of, proprietor.
+
+'I saw him come bowling up the slope with his familiar gait, 
+evidently unconscious of my presence, and wearing that sturdy 
+and almost hostile demeanour with which a true Briton marches 
+into a strange city through the army of officious 
+importunates who never fail to welcome the true Briton's 
+arrival.  As he passed the barrier he came close to me in the 
+crowd, still without recognising me, for though straight 
+before his nose I was dressed in the costume of the people.  
+I touched his elbow and he turned upon me with a look of 
+impatient defiance, thinking me one persecutor more.
+
+'How quickly the expression changed, etc., etc.  We rushed 
+into each other's arms, as much as the many great coats slung 
+over his shoulders, and the deep folds of cloak in which I 
+was enveloped, would mutually permit.  Then, saying more than 
+a thousand things in a breath, or rather in no breath at all, 
+we set off in great glee for my lodgings, forgetting in the 
+excitement the poor little porter who was following at full 
+trot, panting and puffing under the heavy portmanteau.  We 
+got home, but were no calmer.  We dined, but could not eat.  
+We talked, but the news could not be persuaded to come out 
+quick enough.'
+
+Who has not known what is here described?  Who does not envy 
+the freshness, the enthusiasm, of such bubbling of warm young 
+hearts?  Oh, the pity of it! if these generous emotions 
+should prove as transient as youth itself.  And then, when 
+one of those young hearts is turned to dust, and one is left 
+to think of it - why then, 'tis not much comfort to reflect 
+that - nothing in the world is commoner.
+
+We got a Spanish master and worked industriously, also picked 
+up all the Andalusian we could, which is as much like pure 
+Castilian as wold-Yorkshire is to English.  I also took 
+lessons on the guitar.  Thus prepared, I imitated my friend 
+and adopted the ordinary costume of the Andalusian peasant:  
+breeches, ornamented with rows of silvered buttons, gaiters, 
+a short jacket with a red flower-pot and blue lily on the 
+back, and elbows with green and scarlet patterns, a red FAJA 
+or sash, and the sombrero which I believe is worn nowhere 
+except in the bull-ring.  The whole of this picturesque dress 
+is now, I think, given up.  I have spent the last two winters 
+in the south of Spain, but have not once seen it.
+
+It must not be supposed that we chose this 'get-up' to 
+gratify any aesthetic taste of our own or other people's; it 
+was long before the days of the 'Too-toos,' whom Mr. Gilbert 
+brought to a timely end.  We had settled to ride through 
+Spain from Gibraltar to Bayonne, choosing always the bridle-
+roads so as to avoid anything approaching a beaten track.  We 
+were to visit the principal cities and keep more or less a 
+northerly course, staying on the way at such places as 
+Malaga, Cordova, Toledo, Madrid, Valladolid, and Burgos.  The 
+rest was to be left to chance.  We were to take no map; and 
+when in doubt as to diverging roads, the toss of a coin was 
+to settle it.  This programme was conscientiously adhered to.  
+The object of the dress then was obscurity.  For safety 
+(brigands abounded) and for economy, it was desirable to pass 
+unnoticed.  We never knew in what dirty POSADA or road-side 
+VENTA we should spend the night.  For the most part it was at 
+the resting-place of the muleteers, which would be nothing 
+but a roughly paved dark chamber, one end occupied by mules 
+and the other by their drivers.  We made our own omelets and 
+salad and chocolate; with the exception of the never failing 
+BACALLAO, or salt fish, we rarely had anything else; and 
+rolling ourselves into our cloaks, with saddles for pillows, 
+slept amongst the muleteers on the stone flags.  We had 
+bought a couple of ponies in the Seville market for 7L. and 
+8L.  Our ALFORJAS or saddlebags contained all we needed.  Our 
+portmanteaus were sent on from town to town, wherever we had 
+arranged to stop.  Rough as the life was, we saw the people 
+of Spain as no ordinary travellers could hope to see them.  
+The carriers, the shepherds, the publicans, the travelling 
+merchants, the priests, the barbers, the MOLINERAS of 
+Antequera, the Maritornes', the Sancho Panzas - all just as 
+they were seen by the immortal knight.
+
+From the MOZOS DE LA CUADRA (ostlers) and ARRIEROS, upwards 
+and downwards, nowhere have I met, in the same class, with 
+such natural politeness.  This is much changed for the worse 
+now; but before the invasion of tourists one never passed a 
+man on the road who did not salute one with a 'Vaya usted con 
+Dios.'  Nor would the most indigent vagabond touch the filthy 
+BACALLAO which he drew from his wallet till he had 
+courteously addressed the stranger with the formula 'Quiere 
+usted comer?'  ('Will your Lordship please to eat?')  The 
+contrast between the people and the nobles in this respect 
+was very marked.  We saw something of the latter in the club 
+at Seville, where one met men whose high-sounding names and 
+titles have come down to us from the greatest epochs of 
+Spanish history.  Their ignorance was surprising.  Not one of 
+them had been farther than Madrid.  Not one of them knew a 
+word of any language but his own, nor was he acquainted with 
+the rudiments even of his country's history.  Their 
+conversation was restricted to the bull-ring and the cockpit, 
+to cards and women.  Their chief aim seemed to be to stagger 
+us with the number of quarterings they bore upon their 
+escutcheons; and they appraised others by a like estimate.
+
+Cayley, tickled with the humour of their childish vanity, 
+painted an elaborate coat of arms, which he stuck in the 
+crown of his hat, and by means of which he explained to them 
+that he too was by rights a Spanish nobleman.  With the 
+utmost gravity he delivered some such medley as this:  His 
+Iberian origin dated back to the time of Hannibal, who, after 
+his defeat of the Papal forces and capture of Rome, had, as 
+they well knew, married Princess Peri Banou, youngest 
+daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella.  The issue of the 
+marriage was the famous Cardinal Chicot, from whom he - 
+George Cayley - was of direct male descent.  When Chicot was 
+slain by Oliver Cromwell at the battle of Hastings, his 
+descendants, foiled in their attempt to capture England with 
+the Spanish Armada, settled in the principality of Yorkshire, 
+adopted the noble name of Cayley, and still governed that 
+province as members of the British Parliament.
+
+From that day we were treated with every mark of distinction.
+
+Here is another of my friend's pranks.  I will let Cayley 
+speak; for though I kept no journal, we had agreed to write a 
+joint account of our trip, and our notebooks were common 
+property.
+
+After leaving Malaga we met some beggars on the road, to one 
+of whom, 'an old hag with one eye and a grizzly beard,' I 
+threw the immense sum of a couple of 2-cuarto pieces.  An old 
+man riding behind us on an ass with empty panniers, seeing 
+fortunes being scattered about the road with such reckless 
+and unbounded profusion, came up alongside, and entered into 
+a piteous detail of his poverty.  When he wound up with plain 
+begging, the originality and boldness of the idea of a 
+mounted beggar struck us in so humorous a light that we could 
+not help laughing.  As we rode along talking his case over, 
+Cayley said, 'Suppose we rob him.  He has sold his market 
+produce in Malaga, and depend upon it, has a pocketful of 
+money.'  We waited for him to come up.  When he got fairly 
+between us, Cayley pulled out his revolver (we both carried 
+pistols) and thus addressed him:
+
+'Impudent old scoundrel! stand still.  If thou stirr'st hand 
+or foot, or openest thy mouth, I will slay thee like a dog.  
+Thou greedy miscreant, who art evidently a man of property 
+and hast an ass to ride upon, art not satisfied without 
+trying to rob the truly poor of the alms we give them.  
+Therefore hand over at once the two dollars for which thou 
+hast sold thy cabbages for double what they were worth.'
+
+The old culprit fell on his knees, and trembling violently, 
+prayed Cayley for the love of the Virgin to spare him.
+
+'One moment, CABALLEROS,' he cried, 'I will give you all I 
+possess.  But I am poor, very poor, and I have a sick wife at 
+the disposition of your worships.'
+
+'Wherefore art thou fumbling at thy foot?  Thou carriest not 
+thy wife in thy shoe?'
+
+'I cannot untie the string - my hand trembles; will your 
+worships permit me to take out my knife?'
+
+He did so, and cutting the carefully knotted thong of a 
+leather bag which had been concealed in the leg of his 
+stocking, poured out a handful of small coin and began to 
+weep piteously.
+
+Said Cayley, 'Come, come, none of that, or we shall feel it 
+our duty to shoot thy donkey that thou may'st have something 
+to whimper for.'
+
+The genuine tears of the poor old fellow at last touched the 
+heart of the jester.
+
+'We know now that thou art poor,' said he, 'for we have taken 
+all thou hadst.  And as it is the religion of the Ingleses, 
+founded on the practice of their celebrated saint, Robino 
+Hoodo, to levy funds from the rich for the benefit of the 
+needy, hold out thy sombero, and we will bestow a trifle upon 
+thee.'
+
+So saying he poured back the plunder; to which was added, to 
+the astonishment of the receiver, some supplementary pieces 
+that nearly equalled the original sum.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+
+
+BEFORE setting out from Seville we had had our Foreign Office 
+passports duly VISED.  Our profession was given as that of 
+travelling artists, and the VISE included the permission to 
+carry arms.  More than once the sight of our pistols caused 
+us to be stopped by the CARABINEROS.  On one occasion these 
+road-guards disputed the wording of the VISE.  They protested 
+that 'armas' meant 'escopetas,' not pistols, which were 
+forbidden.  Cayley indignantly retorted, 'Nothing is 
+forbidden to Englishmen.  Besides, it is specified in our 
+passports that we are 'personas de toda confianza,' which 
+checkmated them.
+
+We both sketched, and passed ourselves off as 'retratistas' 
+(portrait painters), and did a small business in this way - 
+rather in the shape of caricatures, I fear, but which gave 
+much satisfaction.  We charged one peseta (seven-pence), or 
+two, a head, according to the means of the sitter.  The 
+fiction that we were earning our bread wholesomely tended to 
+moderate the charge for it.
+
+Passing through the land of Don Quixote's exploits, we 
+reverentially visited any known spot which these had rendered 
+famous.  Amongst such was the VENTA of Quesada, from which, 
+or from Quixada, as some conjecture, the knight derived his 
+surname.  It was here, attracted by its castellated style, 
+and by two 'ladies of pleasure' at its door - whose virginity 
+he at once offered to defend, that he spent the night of his 
+first sally.  It was here that, in his shirt, he kept guard 
+till morning over the armour he had laid by the well.  It was 
+here that, with his spear, he broke the head of the carrier 
+whom he took for another knight bent on the rape of the 
+virgin princesses committed to his charge.  Here, too, it was 
+that the host of the VENTA dubbed him with the coveted 
+knighthood which qualified him for his noble deeds.
+
+To Quesada we wended our way.  We asked the Senor Huesped 
+whether he knew anything of the history of his VENTA.  Was it 
+not very ancient?
+
+'Oh no, it was quite modern.  But on the site of it had stood 
+a fine VENTA which was burnt down at the time of the war.'
+
+'An old building?'
+
+'Yes, indeed! A COSA DE SIEMPRE - thing of always.  Nothing, 
+was left of it now but that well, and the stone trough.'
+
+These bore marks of antiquity, and were doubtless as the 
+gallant knight had left them.  Curiously, too, there were 
+remains of an outhouse with a crenellated parapet, suggestive 
+enough of a castle.
+
+From Quesada we rode to Argamasilla del Alba, where Cervantes 
+was imprisoned, and where the First Part of Don Quixote was 
+written.
+
+In his Life of Cervantes, Don Gregorio Mayano throws some 
+doubt upon this.  Speaking of the attacks of his 
+contemporary, the 'Aragonian,' Don Gregorio writes (I give 
+Ozell's translation):  'As for this scandalous fellow's 
+saying that Cervantes wrote his First Part of "Don Quixote" 
+in a prison, and that that might make it so dull and 
+incorrect, Cervantes did not think fit to give any answer 
+concerning his being imprisoned, perhaps to avoid giving 
+offence to the ministers of justice; for certainly his 
+imprisonment must not have been ignominious, since Cervantes 
+himself voluntarily mentions it in his Preface to the First 
+Part of "Don Quixote."'
+
+This reasoning, however, does not seem conclusive; for the 
+only reference to the subject in the preface is as follows:  
+'What could my sterile and uncultivated genius produce but 
+the history of a child, meagre, adust, and whimsical, full of 
+various wild imaginations never thought of before; like one 
+you may suppose born in a prison, where every inconvenience 
+keeps its residence, and every dismal sound its habitation?'
+
+We took up our quarters in the little town at the 'Posada de 
+la Mina.'  While our OLLA was being prepared; we asked the 
+hostess whether she had ever heard of the celebrated Don 
+Miguel de Cervantes, who had been imprisoned there?  (I will 
+quote Cayley).
+
+'No, Senores; I think I have heard of one Cervantes, but he 
+does not live here at present.'
+
+'Do you know anything of Don Quixote?'
+
+'Oh, yes.  He was a great CABALLERO, who lived here some 
+years ago.  His house is over the way, on the other side of 
+the PLAZA, with the arms over the door.  The father of the 
+Alcalde is the oldest man in the PUEBLO; perhaps he may 
+remember him.'
+
+We were amused at his hero's fame outliving that of the 
+author.  But is it not so with others - the writers of the 
+Book of Job, of the Pentateuch, and perhaps, too, of the 
+'Iliad,' if not of the 'Odyssey'?
+
+But, to let Cayley speak:
+
+'While we were undressing to go to bed, three gentlemen were 
+announced and shown in.  We begged them to be seated. . . . 
+We sat opposite on the ends of our respective beds to hear 
+what they might have to communicate.  A venerable old man 
+opened the conference.
+
+'"We have understood, gentlemen, that you have come hither 
+seeking for information respecting the famous Don Quixote, 
+and we have come to give you such information as we may; but, 
+perhaps you will understand me better if I speak in Latin."
+
+'"We have learnt the Latin at our schools, but are more 
+accustomed to converse in Castilian; pray proceed."
+
+'"I am the Medico of the place, an old man, as you see; and 
+what little I know has reached me by tradition.  It is 
+reported that Cervantes was paying his addresses to a young 
+lady, whose name was Quijana or Quijada.  The Alcalde, 
+disapproving of the suit, put him into a dungeon under his 
+house, and kept him there a year.  Once he escaped and fled, 
+but he was taken in Toboso, and brought back.  Cervantes 
+wrote 'Don Quixote' as a satire on the Alcalde, who was a 
+very proud man, full of chivalresque ideas.  You can see the 
+dungeon to-morrow; but you should see the BATANES (water-
+mills) of the Guadiana, whose 'golpear' so terrified Sancho 
+Panza.  They are at about three leagues distance."'
+
+The old gentleman added that he was proud to receive 
+strangers who came to do honour to the memory of his 
+illustrious townsman; and hoped we would visit him next day, 
+on our return from the fulling-mills, when he would have the 
+pleasure of conducting us to the house of the Quijanas, in 
+the cellars of which Cervantes was confined.
+
+To the BATANES we went next morning.  Their historical 
+importance entitles them to an accurate description.  None 
+could be more lucid than that of my companion.  'These 
+clumsy, ancient machines are composed of a couple of huge 
+wooden mallets, slung in a timber framework, which, being 
+pushed out of the perpendicular by knobs on a water-wheel, 
+clash back again alternately in two troughs, pounding 
+severely whatever may be put in between the face of the 
+mallet and the end of the trough into which the water runs.'
+
+It will be remembered that, after a copious meal, Sancho 
+having neglected to replenish the gourd, both he and his 
+master suffered greatly from thirst.  It was now 'so dark,' 
+says the history, 'that they could see nothing; but they had 
+not gone two hundred paces when a great noise of water 
+reached their ears. . . . The sound rejoiced them 
+exceedingly; and, stopping to listen from whence it came, 
+they heard on a sudden another dreadful noise, which abated 
+their pleasure occasioned by that of the water, especially 
+Sancho's. . . . They heard a dreadful din of irons and chains 
+rattling across one another, and giving mighty strokes in 
+time and measure which, together with the furious noise of 
+the water, would have struck terror into any other heart than 
+that of Don Quixote.'  For him it was but an opportunity for 
+some valorous achievement.  So, having braced on his buckler 
+and mounted Rosinante, he brandished his spear, and explained 
+to his trembling squire that by the will of Heaven he was 
+reserved for deeds which would obliterate the memory of the 
+Platirs, Tablantes, the Olivantes, and Belianesas, with the 
+whole tribe of the famous knights-errant of times past.
+
+'Wherefore, straighten Rosinante's girths a little,' said he, 
+'and God be with you.  Stay for me here three days, and no 
+more; if I do not return in that time you may go to Toboso, 
+where you shall say to my incomparable Lady Dulcinea that her 
+enthralled knight died in attempting things that might have 
+made him worthy to be styled "hers."'
+
+Sancho, more terrified than ever at the thoughts of being 
+left alone, reminded his master that it was unwise to tempt 
+God by undertaking exploits from which there was no escaping 
+but by a miracle; and, in order to emphasize this very 
+sensible remark, secretly tied Rosinante's hind legs together 
+with his halter.  Seeing the success of his contrivance, he 
+said:  'Ah, sir! behold how Heaven, moved by my tears and 
+prayers, has ordained that Rosinante cannot go,' and then 
+warned him not to set Providence at defiance.  Still Sancho 
+was much too frightened by the infernal clatter to relax his 
+hold of the knight's saddle.  For some time he strove to 
+beguile his own fears with a very long story about the 
+goatherd Lope Ruiz, who was in love with the shepherdess 
+Torralva - 'a jolly, strapping wench, a little scornful, and 
+somewhat masculine.'  Now, whether owing to the cold of the 
+morning, which was at hand, or whether to some lenitive diet 
+on which he had supped, it so befell that Sancho . . . what 
+nobody could do for him.  The truth is, the honest fellow was 
+overcome by panic, and under no circumstances would, or did, 
+he for one instant leave his master's side.  Nay, when the 
+knight spurred his steed and found it could not move, Sancho 
+reminded him that the attempt was useless, since Rosinante 
+was restrained by enchantment.  This the knight readily 
+admitted, but stoutly protested that he himself was anything 
+but enchanted by the close proximity of his squire.
+
+We all remember the grave admonitions of Don Quixote, and the 
+ingenious endeavours of Sancho to lay the blame upon the 
+knight.  But the final words of the Don contain a moral 
+apposite to so many other important situations, that they 
+must not be omitted here.  'Apostare, replico Sancho, que 
+pensa vuestra merced que yo he hecho de mi persona alguna 
+cosa que no deba.'  'I will lay a wager,' replied Sancho, 
+'that your worship thinks that I have &c.'  The brief, but 
+memorable, answer was:  'Peor es meneallo, amigo Sancho,' 
+which, as no translation could do justice to it, must be left 
+as it stands.  QUIETA NON MOVERE.
+
+We were nearly meeting with an adventure here.  While I was 
+busy making a careful drawing of the BATANES, Cayley's pony 
+was as much alarmed by the rushing waters as had been Sancho 
+Panza.  In his endeavours to picket the animal, my friend 
+dropped a pistol which I had lent him to practise with, 
+although he carried a revolver of his own.  Not till he had 
+tied up the pony at some little distance did he discover the 
+loss.  In vain he searched the spot where he knew the pistol 
+must have escaped from his FAJA.  Near it, three rough-
+looking knaves in shaggy goatskin garments, with guns over 
+their shoulders, were watching the progress of my sketch.  On 
+his return Cayley asked two of these (the third moved away as 
+he came up) whether they had seen the pistol.  They declared 
+they had not; upon which he said he must search them.  He was 
+not a man to be trifled with, and although they refused at 
+first, they presently submitted.  He then overtook the third, 
+and at once accused him of the theft.  The man swore he knew 
+nothing of the lost weapon, and brought his gun to the 
+charge.  As he did so, Cayley caught sight of the pistol 
+under the fellow's sheepskin jacket, and with characteristic 
+promptitude seized it, while he presented a revolver at the 
+thief's head.  All this he told me with great glee a minute 
+or two later.
+
+When we got back to Argamasilla the Medico was already 
+awaiting us.  He conducted us to the house of the Quijanas, 
+where an old woman-servant, lamp in hand, showed the way down 
+a flight of steps into the dungeon.  It was a low vaulted 
+chamber, eight feet high, ten broad, and twenty-four long, 
+dimly lighted by a lancet window six feet from the ground.  
+She confidently informed us that Cervantes was in the habit 
+of writing at the farthest end, and that he was allowed a 
+lamp for the purpose.  We accepted the information with 
+implicit faith; silently picturing on our mental retinas the 
+image of him whose genius had brightened the dark hours of 
+millions for over three hundred years.  One could see the 
+spare form of the man of action pacing up and down his cell, 
+unconscious of prison walls, roaming in spirit through the 
+boundless realms of Fancy, his piercing eyes intent upon the 
+conjured visions of his brain.  One noted his vast expanse of 
+brow, his short, crisp, curly hair, his high cheek-bones and 
+singularly high-bridged nose, his refined mouth, small 
+projecting chin and pointed beard.  One noticed, too, as he 
+turned, the stump of the left wrist clasped by the remaining 
+hand.  Who could stand in such a presence and fail to bow 
+with veneration before this insulted greatness!  Potentates 
+pass like Ozymandias, but not the men who, through the ages, 
+help to save us from this tread-mill world, and from 
+ourselves.
+
+We visited Cuenca, Segovia, and many an out-of-the-way spot.  
+If it be true, as Don Quixote declares, that 'No hay libro 
+tan malo que no tenga alguna cosa buena' ('there is no book 
+so worthless that has not some good in it'), still more true 
+is this of a country like Spain.  And the pleasantest places 
+are just those which only by-roads lead to.  In and near the 
+towns every other man, if not by profession still by 
+practice, is a beggar.  From the seedy-looking rascal in the 
+street, of whom you incautiously ask the way, and who 
+piteously whines 'para zapatos' - for the wear and tear of 
+shoe leather, to the highest official, one and all hold out 
+their hands for the copper CUARTO or the eleemosynary 
+sinecure.  As it was then, so is it now; the Government wants 
+support, and it is always to be had, at a price; deputies 
+always want 'places.'  For every duty the functionary 
+performs, or ought to perform, he receives his bribe.  The 
+Government is too poor to keep him honest, but his POUR-
+BOIRES are not measured by his scruples.  All is winked at, 
+if the Ministry secures a vote.
+
+Away in the pretty rural districts, in the little villages 
+amid the woods and the mountains, with their score or so of 
+houses and their little chapel with its tinkling old bell and 
+its poverty-stricken curate, the hard-working, simple-minded 
+men are too proud and too honest to ask for more than a pinch 
+of tobacco for the CIGARILLO.  The maidens are comely, and as 
+chaste as - can reasonably be expected.
+
+Madrid is worth visiting - not for its bull-fights, which are 
+disgusting proofs of man's natural brutality, but for its 
+picture gallery.  No one knows what Velasquez could do, or 
+has done, till he has seen Madrid; and Charles V. was 
+practically master of Europe when the collection was in his 
+hands.  The Escurial's chief interests are in its 
+associations with Charles V. and Philip II.  In the dark and 
+gloomy little bedroom of the latter is a small window opening 
+into the church, so that the King could attend the services 
+in bed if necessary.
+
+It cannot be said of Philip that he was nothing if not 
+religious, for Nero even was not a more indefatigable 
+murderer, nor a more diabolical specimen of cruelty and 
+superstition.  The very thought of the wretch tempts one to 
+revolt at human piety, at any rate where priestcraft and its 
+fabrications are at the bottom of it.
+
+When at Madrid we met Mr. Arthur Birch.  He had been with 
+Cayley at Eton, as captain of the school.  While we were 
+together, he received and accepted the offer of an Eton 
+mastership.  We were going by diligence to Toledo, and Birch 
+agreed to go with us.  I mention the fact because the place 
+reminds me of a clever play upon its name by the Eton 
+scholar.  Cayley bought a Toledo sword-blade, and asked Birch 
+for a motto to engrave upon it.  In a minute or two he hit 
+off this:  TIMETOLETUM, which reads Time Toletum=Honour 
+Toledo, or Timeto Letum=Fear death.  Cayley's attempts, 
+though not so neat, were not bad.  Here are a couple of 
+them:-
+
+
+Though slight I am, no slight I stand,
+Saying my master's sleight of hand.
+
+
+or:-
+
+
+Come to the point; unless you do,
+The point will shortly come to you.
+
+
+Birch got the Latin poem medal at Cambridge the same year 
+that Cayley got the English one.
+
+Before we set forth again upon our gipsy tramp, I received a 
+letter from Mr. Ellice bidding me hasten home to contest the 
+Borough of Cricklade in the General Election of 1852.  Under 
+these circumstances we loitered but little on the Northern 
+roads.  At the end of May we reached Yrun.  Here we sold our 
+ponies - now quite worn out - for twenty-three dollars - 
+about five guineas.  So that a thousand miles of locomotion 
+had cost us a little over five guineas apiece.  Not counting 
+hotels at Madrid and such smart places, our daily cost for 
+selves and ponies rarely exceeded six pesetas, or three 
+shillings each all told.  The best of it was, the trip 
+restored the health of my friend.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+
+
+IN February of this year, 1852, Lord Palmerston, aided by an 
+incongruous force of Peelites and Protectionists, turned Lord 
+John Russell out of office on his Militia Bill.  Lord Derby, 
+with Disraeli as Chancellor of the Exchequer and leader of 
+the House of Commons, came into power on a cry for 
+Protection.
+
+Not long after my return to England, I was packed off to 
+canvas the borough of Cricklade.  It was then a very 
+extensive borough, including a large agricultural district, 
+as well as Swindon, the headquarters of the Great Western 
+Railway.  For many years it had returned two Conservative 
+members, Messrs. Nield and Goddard.  It was looked upon as an 
+impregnable Tory stronghold, and the fight was little better 
+than a forlorn hope.
+
+My headquarters were at Coleshill, Lord Radnor's.  The old 
+lord had, in his Parliamentary days, been a Radical; hence, 
+my advanced opinions found great favour in his eyes.  My 
+programme was - Free Trade, Vote by Ballot, and 
+Disestablishment.  Two of these have become common-places 
+(one perhaps effete), and the third is nearer to 
+accomplishment than it was then.
+
+My first acquaintance with a constituency, amongst whom I 
+worked enthusiastically for six weeks, was comic enough.  My 
+instructions were to go to Swindon; there an agent, whom I 
+had never seen, would join me.  A meeting of my supporters 
+had been arranged by him, and I was to make my maiden speech 
+in the market-place.
+
+My address, it should be stated - ultra-Radical, of course - 
+was mainly concocted for me by Mr. Cayley, an almost rabid 
+Tory, and then member for the North Riding of Yorkshire, but 
+an old Parliamentary hand; and, in consequence of my 
+attachment to his son, at that time and until his death, like 
+a father to me.
+
+When the train stopped at Swindon, there was a crowd of 
+passengers, but not a face that I knew; and it was not till 
+all but one or two had left, that a business-looking man came 
+up and asked if I were the candidate for Cricklade.  He told 
+me that a carriage was in attendance to take us up to the 
+town; and that a procession, headed by a band, was ready to 
+accompany us thither.  The procession was formed mainly of 
+the Great Western boiler-makers and artisans.  Their 
+enthusiasm seemed slightly disproportioned to the occasion; 
+and the vigour of the brass, and especially of the big drum, 
+so filled my head with visions of Mr. Pickwick and his friend 
+the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, that by the time I reached the 
+market-place, I had forgotten every syllable of the speech 
+which I had carefully learnt by heart.  Nor was it the band 
+alone that upset me; going up the hill the carriage was all 
+but capsized by the frightened horses and the breaking of the 
+pole.  The gallant boiler-makers, however, at once removed 
+the horses, and dragged the carriage with cheers of defiance 
+into the crowd awaiting us.
+
+My agent had settled that I was to speak from a window of the 
+hotel.  The only available one was an upper window, the lower 
+sash of which could not be persuaded to keep up without being 
+held.  The consequence was, just as I was getting over the 
+embarrassment of extemporary oration, down came the sash and 
+guillotined me.  This put the crowd in the best of humours; 
+they roared with laughter, and after that we got on capitally 
+together.
+
+A still more inopportune accident happened to me later in the 
+day, when speaking at Shrivenham.  A large yard enclosed by 
+buildings was chosen for the meeting.  The difficulty was to 
+elevate the speaker above the heads of the assembly.  In one 
+corner of the yard was a water-butt.  An ingenious elector 
+got a board, placed it on the top of the butt - which was 
+full of water - and persuaded me to make this my rostrum.  
+Here, again, in the midst of my harangue - perhaps I stamped 
+to emphasize my horror of small loaves and other Tory 
+abominations - the board gave way; and I narrowly escaped a 
+ducking by leaping into the arms of a 'supporter.'
+
+The end of it all was that my agent at the last moment threw 
+up the sponge.  The farmers formed a serried phalanx against 
+Free Trade; it was useless to incur the expense of a poll.  
+Then came the bill.  It was a heavy one; for in addition to 
+my London agent - a professional electioneering functionary - 
+were the local agents at towns like Malmesbury, Wootton 
+Bassett, Shrivenham, &c., &c.  My eldest brother, who was a 
+soberer-minded politician than I, although very liberal to me 
+in other ways, declined to support my political opinions.  I 
+myself was quite unable to pay the costs.  Knowing this, Lord 
+Radnor called me into his study as I was leaving Coleshill, 
+and expressed himself warmly with respect to my labours; 
+regretting the victory of the other side, he declared that, 
+as the question of Protection would be disposed of, one of 
+the two seats would be safe upon a future contest.
+
+'And who,' asked the old gentleman, with a benevolent grin on 
+his face, 'who is going to pay your expenses?'
+
+'Goodness knows, sir,' said I; 'I hope they won't come down 
+upon me.  I haven't a thousand pounds in the world, unless I 
+tap my fortune.'
+
+'Well,' said his Lordship, with a chuckle, 'I haven't paid my 
+subscription to Brooks's yet, so I'll hand it over to you,' 
+and he gave me a cheque for 500 pounds.
+
+The balance was obtained through Mr. Ellice from the 
+patronage Secretary to the Treasury.  At the next election, 
+as Lord Radnor predicted, Lord Ashley, Lord Shaftesbury's 
+eldest son, won one of the two seats for the Liberals with 
+the greatest ease.
+
+As Coleshill was an open house to me from that time as long 
+as Lord Radnor lived, I cannot take leave of the dear old man 
+without an affectionate word at parting.  Creevey has an ill-
+natured fling at him, as he has at everybody else, but a 
+kinder-hearted and more perfect gentleman would be difficult 
+to meet with.  His personality was a marked one.  He was a 
+little man, with very plain features, a punch-like nose, an 
+extensive mouth, and hardly a hair on his head.  But in spite 
+of these peculiarities, his face was pleasant to look at, for 
+it was invariably animated by a sweet smile, a touch of 
+humour, and a decided air of dignity.  Born in 1779, he 
+dressed after the orthodox Whig fashion of his youth, in buff 
+and blue, his long-tailed coat reaching almost to his heels.  
+His manner was a model of courtesy and simplicity.  He used 
+antiquated expressions:  called London 'Lunnun,' Rome 'Room,' 
+a balcony a 'balcony'; he always spoke of the clergyman as 
+the 'pearson,' and called his daughter Lady Mary, 'Meary.'  
+Instead of saying 'this day week' he would say this day 
+sen'nit' (for sen'night).
+
+The independence of his character was very noticeable.  As an 
+instance:  A party of twenty people, say, would be invited 
+for a given day.  Abundance of carriages would be sent to 
+meet the trains, so that all the guests would arrive in ample 
+time for dinner.  It generally happened that some of them, 
+not knowing the habits of the house, or some duchess or great 
+lady who might assume that clocks were made for her and not 
+she for clocks, would not appear in the drawing-room till a 
+quarter of an hour after the dinner gong had sounded.  If 
+anyone did so, he or she would find that everybody else had 
+got through soup and fish.  If no one but Lady Mary had been 
+down when dinner was announced, his Lordship would have 
+offered his arm to his daughter, and have taken his seat at 
+the table alone.  After the first night, no one was ever 
+late.  In the morning he read prayers to the household before 
+breakfast with the same precise punctuality.
+
+Lady Mary Bouverie, his unmarried daughter, was the very best 
+of hostesses.  The house under her management was the 
+perfection of comfort.  She married an old and dear friend of 
+mine, Sir James Wilde, afterwards the Judge, Lord Penzance.  
+I was his 'best man.'
+
+My 'Ride over the Rocky Mountains' was now published; and, as 
+the field was a new one, the writer was rewarded, for a few 
+weeks, with invitations to dinner, and the usual tickets for 
+'drums' and dances.  To my astonishment, or rather to my 
+alarm, I received a letter from the Secretary of the Royal 
+Geographical Society (Charles Fox, or perhaps Sir George 
+Simpson had, I think, proposed me - I never knew), to say 
+that I had been elected a member.  Nothing was further from 
+my ambition.  The very thought shrivelled me with a sense of 
+ignorance and insignificance.  I pictured to myself an 
+assembly of old fogies crammed with all the 'ologies.  I 
+broke into a cold perspiration when I fancied myself called 
+upon to deliver a lecture on the comparative sea-bottomy of 
+the Oceanic globe, or give my theory of the simultaneous 
+sighting by 'little Billee' of ' Madagascar, and North, and 
+South Amerikee.'  Honestly, I had not the courage to accept; 
+and, young Jackanapes as I was, left the Secretary's letter 
+unanswered.
+
+But a still greater honour - perhaps the greatest compliment 
+I ever had paid me - was to come.  I had lodgings at this 
+time in an old house, long since pulled down, in York Street.  
+One day, when I was practising the fiddle, who should walk 
+into my den but Rogers the poet!  He had never seen me in his 
+life.  He was in his ninetieth year, and he had climbed the 
+stairs to the first floor to ask me to one of his breakfast 
+parties.  To say nothing of Rogers' fame, his wealth, his 
+position in society, those who know what his cynicism and his 
+worldliness were, will understand what such an effort, 
+physical and moral, must have cost him.  He always looked 
+like a death's head, but his ghastly pallor, after that 
+Alpine ascent, made me feel as if he had come - to stay.
+
+These breakfasts were entertainments of no ordinary 
+distinction.  The host himself was of greater interest than 
+the most eminent of his guests.  All but he, were more or 
+less one's contemporaries:  Rogers, if not quite as dead as 
+he looked, was ancient history.  He was old enough to have 
+been the father of Byron, of Shelley, of Keats, and of Moore.  
+He was several years older than Scott, or Wordsworth, or 
+Coleridge, and only four years younger than Pitt.  He had 
+known all these men, and could, and did, talk as no other 
+could talk, of all of them.  Amongst those whom I met at 
+these breakfasts were Cornewall Lewis, Delane, the Grotes, 
+Macaulay, Mrs. Norton, Monckton Milnes, William Harcourt (the 
+only one younger than myself), but just beginning to be 
+known, and others of scarcely less note.
+
+During the breakfast itself, Rogers, though seated at table 
+in an armchair, took no part either in the repast or in the 
+conversation; he seemed to sleep until the meal was over.  
+His servant would then place a cup of coffee before him, and, 
+like a Laputian flapper, touch him gently on the shoulder.  
+He would at once begin to talk, while others listened.  The 
+first time I witnessed this curious resurrection, I whispered 
+something to my neighbour, at which he laughed.  The old 
+man's eye was too sharp for us.
+
+'You are laughing at me,' said he; 'I dare say you young 
+gentlemen think me an old fellow; but there are younger than 
+I who are older.  You should see Tommy Moore.  I asked him to 
+breakfast, but he's too weak - weak here, sir,' and he tapped 
+his forehead.  'I'm not that.'  (This was the year that Moore 
+died.)  He certainly was not; but his whole discourse was of 
+the past.  It was as though he would not condescend to 
+discuss events or men of the day.  What were either to the 
+days and men that he had known - French revolutions, battles 
+of Trafalgar and Waterloo, a Nelson and a Buonaparte, a Pitt, 
+a Burke, a Fox, a Johnson, a Gibbon, a Sheridan, and all the 
+men of letters and all the poets of a century gone by?  Even 
+Macaulay had for once to hold his tongue; and could only 
+smile impatiently at what perhaps he thought an old man's 
+astonishing garrulity.  But if a young and pretty woman 
+talked to him, it was not his great age that he vaunted, nor 
+yet the 'pleasures of memory' - one envied the adroitness of 
+his flattery, and the gracefulness of his repartee.
+
+My friend George Cayley had a couple of dingy little rooms 
+between Parliament Street and the river.  Much of my time was 
+spent there with him.  One night after dinner, quite late, we 
+were building castles amidst tobacco clouds, when, following 
+a 'May I come in?' Tennyson made his appearance.  This was 
+the first time I had ever met him.  We gave him the only 
+armchair in the room; and pulling out his dudeen and placing 
+afoot on each side of the hob of the old-fashioned little 
+grate, he made himself comfortable before he said another 
+word.  He then began to talk of pipes and tobacco.  And 
+never, I should say, did this important topic afford so much 
+ingenious conversation before.  We discussed the relative 
+merits of all the tobaccos in the world - of moist tobacco 
+and dry tobacco, of old tobacco and new tobacco, of clay 
+pipes and wooden pipes and meerschaum pipes.  What was the 
+best way to colour them, the advantages of colouring them, 
+the beauty of the 'culotte,' the coolness it gave to the 
+smoke, &c.  We listened to the venerable sage - he was then 
+forty-three and we only five or six and twenty - as we should 
+have listened to a Homer or an Aristotle, and he thoroughly 
+enjoyed our appreciation of his jokes.
+
+Some of them would have startled such of his admirers who 
+knew him only by his poems; for his stories were anything but 
+poetical - rather humorous one might say, on the whole.  
+Here's one of them:  he had called last week on the Duchess 
+of Sutherland at Stafford House.  Her two daughters were with 
+her, the Duchess of Argyll and the beautiful Lady Constance 
+Grosvenor, afterwards Duchess of Westminster.  They happened 
+to be in the garden.  After strolling about for a while, the 
+Mama Duchess begged him to recite some of his poetry.  He 
+chose 'Come into the garden, Maud' - always a favourite of 
+the poet's, and, as may be supposed, many were the fervid 
+exclamations of 'How beautiful!'  When they came into the 
+house, a princely groom of the chambers caught his eye and 
+his ear, and, pointing to his own throat, courteously 
+whispered:  'Your dress is not quite as you would wish it, 
+sir.'
+
+'I had come out without a necktie; and there I was, spouting 
+my lines to the three Graces, as DECOLLETE as a strutting 
+turkey cock.'
+
+The only other allusion to poetry or literature that night 
+was a story I told him of a Mr. Thomas Wrightson, a Yorkshire 
+banker, and a fanatical Swedenborgian.  Tommy Wrightson, who 
+was one of the most amiable and benevolent of men, spent his 
+life in making a manuscript transcript of Swedenborg's works.  
+His writing was a marvel of calligraphic art; he himself, a 
+curiosity.  Swedenborg was for him an avatar; but if he had 
+doubted of Tennyson's ultimate apotheosis, I think he would 
+have elected to seek him in 'the other place.'  Anyhow, Mr. 
+Wrightson avowed to me that he repeated 'Locksley Hall' every 
+morning of his life before breakfast.  This I told Tennyson.  
+His answer was a grunt; and in a voice from his boots, 'Ugh! 
+enough to make a dog sick!'  I did my utmost to console him 
+with the assurance that, to the best of my belief, Mr. 
+Wrightson had once fallen through a skylight.
+
+As illustrating the characters of the admired and his 
+admirer, it may be related that the latter, wishing for the 
+poet's sign-manual, wrote and asked him for it.  He addressed 
+Tennyson, whom he had never seen, as 'My dear Alfred.'  The 
+reply, which he showed to me, was addressed 'My dear Tom.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+
+
+MY stepfather, Mr. Ellice, having been in two Ministries - 
+Lord Grey's in 1830, and Lord Melbourne's in 1834 - had 
+necessarily a large parliamentary acquaintance; and as I 
+could always dine at his house in Arlington Street when I 
+pleased, I had constant opportunities of meeting most of the 
+prominent Whig politicians, and many other eminent men of the 
+day.  One of the dinner parties remains fresh in my memory - 
+not because of the distinguished men who happened to be 
+there, but because of the statesman whose name has since 
+become so familiar to the world.
+
+Some important question was before the House in which Mr. 
+Ellice was interested, and upon which he intended to speak.  
+This made him late for dinner, but he had sent word that his 
+son was to take his place, and the guests were not to wait.  
+When he came Lord John Russell greeted him with -
+
+'Well, Ellice, who's up?'
+
+'A younger son of Salisbury's,' was the reply; 'Robert Cecil, 
+making his maiden speech.  If I hadn't been in a hurry I 
+should have stopped to listen to him.  Unless I am very much 
+mistaken, he'll make his mark, and we shall hear more of 
+him.'
+
+There were others dining there that night whom it is 
+interesting to recall.  The Grotes were there.  Mrs. Grote, 
+scarcely less remarkable than her husband; Lord Mahon, 
+another historian (who married a niece of Mr. Ellice's), Lord 
+Brougham, and two curious old men both remarkable, if for 
+nothing else, for their great age.  One was George Byng, 
+father of the first Lord Strafford, and 'father' of the House 
+of Commons; the other Sir Robert Adair, who was Ambassador at 
+Constantinople when Byron was there.  Old Mr. Byng looked as 
+aged as he was, and reminded one of Mr. Smallweed doubled up 
+in his porter's chair.  Quite different was his compeer.  We 
+were standing in the recess of the drawing-room window after 
+dinner when Sir Robert said to me:
+
+'Very shaky, isn't he!  Ah! he was my fag at Eton, and I've 
+got the best of it still.'
+
+Brougham having been twice in the same Government with Mr. 
+Ellice, and being devoted to young Mrs. Edward Ellice, his 
+charming daughter-in-law, was a constant visitor at 18 
+Arlington Street.  Mrs. Ellice often told me of his 
+peculiarities, which must evidently have been known to 
+others.  Walter Bagehot, speaking of him, says:
+
+'Singular stories of eccentricity and excitement, even of 
+something more than either of these, darken these latter 
+years.'
+
+What Mrs. Ellice told me was, that she had to keep a sharp 
+watch on Lord Brougham if he sat near her writing-table while 
+he talked to her; for if there was any pretty little knick-
+knack within his reach he would, if her head were turned, 
+slip it into his pocket.  The truth is perhaps better than 
+the dark hint, for certainly we all laughed at it as nothing 
+but eccentricity.
+
+But the man who interested me most (for though when in the 
+Navy I had heard a hundred legends of his exploits, I had 
+never seen him before) was Lord Dundonald.  Mr. Ellice 
+presented me to him, and the old hero asked why I had left 
+the Navy.
+
+'The finest service in the world; and likely, begad, to have 
+something to do before long.'
+
+This was only a year before the Crimean war.  With his strong 
+rough features and tousled mane, he looked like a grey lion.  
+One expected to see him pick his teeth with a pocket 
+boarding-pike.
+
+The thought of the old sailor always brings before me the 
+often mooted question raised by the sentimentalists and 
+humanitarians concerning the horrors of war.  Not long after 
+this time, the papers - the sentimentalist papers - were 
+furious with Lord Dundonald for suggesting the adoption by 
+the Navy of a torpedo which he himself, I think, had 
+invented.  The bare idea of such wholesale slaughter was 
+revolting to a Christian world.  He probably did not see much 
+difference between sinking a ship with a torpedo, and firing 
+a shell into her magazine; and likely enough had as much 
+respect for the opinions of the woman-man as he had for the 
+man-woman.
+
+There is always a large number of people in the world who 
+suffer from emotional sensitiveness and susceptibility to 
+nervous shocks of all kinds.  It is curious to observe the 
+different and apparently unallied forms in which these 
+characteristics manifest themselves.  With some, they exhibit 
+extreme repugnance to the infliction of physical pain for 
+whatever end; with others there seems to be a morbid dread of 
+violated pudicity.  Strangely enough the two phases are 
+frequently associated in the same individual.  Both 
+tendencies are eminently feminine; the affinity lies in a 
+hysterical nature.  Thus, excessive pietism is a frequent 
+concomitant of excessive sexual passion; this, though notably 
+the case with women, is common enough with men of unduly 
+neurotic temperaments.
+
+Only the other day some letters appeared in the 'Times' about 
+the flogging of boys in the Navy.  And, as a sentimental 
+argument against it, we were told by the Humanitarian 
+Leaguers that it is 'obscene.'  This is just what might be 
+expected, and bears out the foregoing remarks.  But such 
+saintly simplicity reminds us of the kind of squeamishness of 
+which our old acquaintance Mephisto observes:
+
+
+Man darf das nicht vor keuschen Ohren nennen,
+Was keusche Herzen nicht entbehren konnen.
+
+(Chaste ears find nothing but the devil in
+What nicest fancies love to revel in.)
+
+
+The same astute critic might have added:
+
+
+And eyes demure that look away when seen,
+Lose ne'er a chance to peep behind the screen.
+
+
+It is all of a piece.  We have heard of the parlour-maid who 
+fainted because the dining-table had 'ceder legs,' but never 
+before that a 'switching' was 'obscene.'  We do not envy the 
+unwholesomeness of a mind so watchful for obscenity.
+
+Be that as it may, so far as humanity is concerned, this 
+hypersensitive effeminacy has but a noxious influence; and 
+all the more for the twofold reason that it is sometimes 
+sincere, though more often mere cant and hypocrisy.  At the 
+best, it is a perversion of the truth; for emotion combined 
+with ignorance, as it is in nine hundred and ninety-nine 
+cases out of a thousand, is a serious obstacle in the path of 
+rational judgment.
+
+Is sentimentalism on the increase?  It seems to be so, if we 
+are to judge by a certain portion of the Press, and by 
+speeches in Parliament.  But then, this may only mean that 
+the propensity finds easier means of expression than it did 
+in the days of dearer paper and fewer newspapers, and also 
+that speakers find sentimental humanity an inexhaustible fund 
+for political capital.  The excess of emotional attributes in 
+man over his reasoning powers must, one would think, have 
+been at least as great in times past as it is now.  Yet it is 
+doubtful whether it showed itself then so conspicuously as it 
+does at present.  Compare the Elizabethan age with our own.  
+What would be said now of the piratical deeds of such men as 
+Frobisher, Raleigh, Gilbert, and Richard Greville?  Suppose 
+Lord Roberts had sent word to President Kruger that if four 
+English soldiers, imprisoned at Pretoria, were molested, he 
+would execute 2,000 Boers and send him their heads?  The 
+clap-trap cry of 'Barbaric Methods' would have gone forth to 
+some purpose; it would have carried every constituency in the 
+country.  Yet this is what Drake did when four English 
+sailors were captured by the Spaniards, and imprisoned by the 
+Spanish Viceroy in Mexico.
+
+Take the Elizabethan drama, and compare it with ours.  What 
+should we think of our best dramatist if, in one of his 
+tragedies, a man's eyes were plucked out on the stage, and if 
+he that did it exclaimed as he trampled on them, 'Out, vile 
+jelly! where is thy lustre now?' or of a Titus Andronicus 
+cutting two throats, while his daughter ''tween her stumps 
+doth hold a basin to receive their blood'?
+
+'Humanity,' says Taine, speaking of these times, 'is as much 
+lacking as decency.  Blood, suffering, does not move them.'
+
+Heaven forbid that we should return to such brutality!  I 
+cite these passages merely to show how times are changed; and 
+to suggest that with the change there is a decided loss of 
+manliness.  Are men more virtuous, do they love honour more, 
+are they more chivalrous, than the Miltons, the Lovelaces, 
+the Sidneys of the past?  Are the women chaster or more 
+gentle?  No; there is more puritanism, but not more true 
+piety.  It is only the outside of the cup and the platter 
+that are made clean, the inward part is just as full of 
+wickedness, and all the worse for its hysterical 
+fastidiousness.
+
+To what do we owe this tendency?  Are we degenerating morally 
+as well as physically?  Consider the physical side of the 
+question.  Fifty years ago the standard height for admission 
+to the army was five feet six inches.  It is now lowered to 
+five feet.  Within the last ten years the increase in the 
+urban population has been nearly three and a half millions.  
+Within the same period the increase in the rural population 
+is less than a quarter of one million.  Three out of five 
+recruits for the army are rejected; a large proportion of 
+them because their teeth are gone or decayed.  Do these 
+figures need comment?  Can you look for sound minds in such 
+unsound bodies?  Can you look for manliness, for self-
+respect, and self-control, or anything but animalistic 
+sentimentality?
+
+It is not the character of our drama or of our works of 
+fiction that promotes and fosters this propensity; but may it 
+not be that the enormous increase in the number of theatres, 
+and the prodigious supply of novels, may have a share in it, 
+by their exorbitant appeal to the emotional, and hence 
+neurotic, elements of our nature?  If such considerations 
+apply mainly to dwellers in overcrowded towns, there is yet 
+another cause which may operate on those more favoured, - the 
+vast increase in wealth and luxury.  Wherever these have 
+grown to excess, whether in Babylon, or Nineveh, or Thebes, 
+or Alexandria, or Rome, they have been the symptoms of 
+decadence, and forerunners of the nation's collapse.
+
+Let us be humane, let us abhor the horrors of war, and strain 
+our utmost energies to avert them.  But we might as well 
+forbid the use of surgical instruments as the weapons that 
+are most destructive in warfare.  If a limb is rotting with 
+gangrene, shall it not be cut away?  So if the passions which 
+occasion wars are inherent in human nature, we must face the 
+evil stout-heartedly; and, for one, I humbly question whether 
+any abolition of dum-dum bullets or other attempts to 
+mitigate this disgrace to humanity, do, in the end, more good 
+than harm.
+
+It is elsewhere that we must look for deliverance, - to the 
+overwhelming power of better educated peoples; to closer 
+intercourse between the nations; to the conviction that, from 
+the most selfish point of view even, peace is the only path 
+to prosperity; to the restraint of the baser Press which, for 
+mere pelf, spurs the passions of the multitude instead of 
+curbing them; and, finally, to deliverance from the 'all-
+potent wills of Little Fathers by Divine right,' and from the 
+ignoble ambition of bullet-headed uncles and brothers and 
+cousins - a curse from which England, thank the Gods! is, and 
+let us hope, ever will be, free.  But there are more 
+countries than one that are not so - just now; and the world 
+may ere long have to pay the bitter penalty.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+
+
+IT is curious if one lives long enough to watch the change of 
+taste in books.  I have no lending-library statistics at 
+hand, but judging by the reading of young people, or of those 
+who read merely for their amusement, the authors they 
+patronise are nearly all living or very recent.  What we old 
+stagers esteemed as classical in fiction and BELLES-LETTRES 
+are sealed books to the present generation.  It is an 
+exception, for instance, to meet with a young man or young 
+woman who has read Walter Scott.  Perhaps Balzac's reason is 
+the true one.  Scott, says he, 'est sans passion; il 
+l'ignore, ou peut-etre lui etait-elle interdite par les 
+moeurs hypocrites de son pays.  Pour lui la femme est le 
+devoir incarne.  A de rares exceptions pres, ses heroines 
+sont absolument les memes ... La femme porte le desordre dans 
+la societe par la passion.  La passion a des accidents 
+infinis.  Peignez donc les passions, vous aurez les sources 
+immenses dont s'est prive ce grand genie pour etre lu dans 
+toutes les familles de la prude Angleterre.'  Does not 
+Thackeray lament that since Fielding no novelist has dared to 
+face the national affectation of prudery?  No English author 
+who valued his reputation would venture to write as Anatole 
+France writes, even if he could.  Yet I pity the man who does 
+not delight in the genius that created M. Bergeret.
+
+A well-known author said to me the other day, he did not 
+believe that Thackeray himself would be popular were he 
+writing now for the first time - not because of his freedom, 
+but because the public taste has altered.  No present age can 
+predict immortality for the works of its day; yet to say that 
+what is intrinsically good is good for all time is but a 
+truism.  The misfortune is that much of the best in 
+literature shares the fate of the best of ancient monuments 
+and noble cities; the cumulative rubbish of ages buries their 
+splendours, till we know not where to find them.  The day may 
+come when the most valuable service of the man of letters 
+will be to unearth the lost treasures and display them, 
+rather than add his grain of dust to the ever-increasing 
+middens.
+
+Is Carlyle forgotten yet, I wonder?  How much did my 
+contemporaries owe to him in their youth?  How readily we 
+followed a leader so sure of himself, so certain of his own 
+evangel.  What an aid to strength to be assured that the true 
+hero is the morally strong man.  One does not criticise what 
+one loves; one didn't look too closely into the doctrine 
+that, might is right, for somehow he managed to persuade us 
+that right makes the might - that the strong man is the man 
+who, for the most part, does act rightly.  He is not over-
+patient with human frailty, to be sure, and is apt, as 
+Herbert Spencer found, to fling about his scorn rather 
+recklessly.  One fancies sometimes that he has more respect 
+for a genuine bad man than for a sham good one.  In fact, his 
+'Eternal Verities' come pretty much to the same as Darwin's 
+'Law of the advancement of all organic bodies'; 'let the 
+strong live, and the weakest die.'  He had no objection to 
+seeing 'the young cuckoo ejecting its foster-brothers, or 
+ants making slaves.'  But he atones for all this by his 
+hatred of cant and hypocrisy.  It is for his manliness that 
+we love him, for his honesty, for his indifference to any 
+mortal's approval save that of Thomas Carlyle.  He convinces 
+us that right thinking is good, but that right doing is much 
+better.  And so it is that he does honour to men of action 
+like his beloved Oliver, and Fritz, - neither of them 
+paragons of wisdom or of goodness, but men of doughty deeds.
+
+Just about this time I narrowly missed a longed-for chance of 
+meeting this hero of my PENATES.  Lady Ashburton - Carlyle's 
+Lady Ashburton - knowing my admiration, kindly invited me to 
+The Grange, while he was there.  The house was full - mainly 
+of ministers or ex-ministers, - Cornewall Lewis, Sir Charles 
+Wood, Sir James Graham, Albany Fonblanque, Mr. Ellice, and 
+Charles Buller - Carlyle's only pupil; but the great man 
+himself had left an hour before I got there.  I often met him 
+afterwards, but never to make his acquaintance.  Of course, I 
+knew nothing of his special friendship for Lady Ashburton, 
+which we are told was not altogether shared by Mrs. Carlyle; 
+but I well remember the interest which Lady Ashburton seemed 
+to take in his praise, how my enthusiasm seemed to please 
+her, and how Carlyle and his works were topics she was never 
+tired of discussing.
+
+The South Western line to Alresford was not then made, and I 
+had to post part of the way from London to The Grange.  My 
+chaise companion was a man very well known in 'Society'; and 
+though not remarkably popular, was not altogether 
+undistinguished, as the following little tale will attest.  
+Frederick Byng, one of the Torrington branch of the Byngs, 
+was chiefly famous for his sobriquet 'The Poodle'; this he 
+owed to no special merit of his own, but simply to the 
+accident of his thick curly head of hair.  Some, who spoke 
+feelingly of the man, used to declare that he had fulfilled 
+the promises of his youth.  What happened to him then may 
+perhaps justify the opinion.
+
+The young Poodle was addicted to practical jokes - as usual, 
+more amusing to the player than to the playee.  One of his 
+victims happened to be Beau Brummell, who, except when he 
+bade 'George ring the bell,' was as perfect a model of 
+deportment as the great Mr. Turveydrop himself.  His studied 
+decorum possibly provoked the playfulness of the young puppy; 
+and amongst other attempts to disturb the Beau's complacency, 
+Master Byng ran a pin into the calf of that gentleman's leg, 
+and then he ran away.  A few days later Mr. Brummell, who had 
+carefully dissembled his wrath, invited the unwary youth to 
+breakfast, telling him that he was leaving town, and had a 
+present which his young friend might have, if he chose to 
+fetch it.  The boy kept the appointment, and the Beau his 
+promise.  After an excellent breakfast, Brummell took a whip 
+from his cupboard, and gave it to the Poodle in a way the 
+young dog was not likely to forget.
+
+The happiest of my days then, and perhaps of my life, were 
+spent at Mr. Ellice's Highland Lodge, at Glenquoich.  For 
+sport of all kinds it was and is difficult to surpass.  The 
+hills of the deer forest are amongst the highest in Scotland; 
+the scenery of its lake and glens, especially the descent to 
+Loch Hourne, is unequalled.  Here were to be met many of the 
+most notable men and women of the time.  And as the house was 
+twenty miles from the nearest post-town, and that in turn two 
+days from London, visitors ceased to be strangers before they 
+left.  In the eighteen years during which this was my autumn 
+home, I had the good fortune to meet numbers of distinguished 
+people of whom I could now record nothing interesting but 
+their names.  Still, it is a privilege to have known such men 
+as John Lawrence, Guizot, Thiers, Landseer, Merimee, Comte de 
+Flahault, Doyle, Lords Elgin and Dalhousie, Duc de Broglie, 
+Pelissier, Panizzi, Motley, Delane, Dufferin; and of gifted 
+women, the three Sheridans, Lady Seymour - the Queen of 
+Beauty, afterwards Duchess of Somerset - Mrs. Norton, and 
+Lady Dufferin.  Amongst those who have a retrospective 
+interest were Mr. and Lady Blanche Balfour, parents of Mr. 
+Arthur Balfour, who came there on their wedding tour in 1843.  
+Mr. Arthur Balfour's father was Mrs. Ellice's first cousin.
+
+It would be easy to lengthen the list; but I mention only 
+those who repeated their visits, and who fill up my mental 
+picture of the place and of the life.  Some amongst them 
+impressed me quite as much for their amiability - their 
+loveableness, I may say - as for their renown; and regard for 
+them increased with coming years.  Panizzi was one of these.  
+Dufferin, who was just my age, would have fascinated anyone 
+with the singular courtesy of his manner.  Dicky Doyle was 
+necessarily a favourite with all who knew him.  He was a 
+frequent inmate of my house after I married, and was engaged 
+to dine with me, alas! only eight days before he died.  
+Motley was a singularly pleasant fellow.  My friendship with 
+him began over a volume of Sir W. Hamilton's Lectures.  He 
+asked what I was reading - I handed him the book.
+
+'A-h,' said he, 'there's no mental gymnastic like 
+metaphysics.'
+
+Many a battle we afterwards had over them.  When I was at 
+Cannes in 1877 I got a message from him one day saying he was 
+ill, and asking me to come and see him.  He did not say how 
+ill, so I put off going.  Two days after I heard he was dead.
+
+Merimee's cynicism rather alarmed one.  He was a capital 
+caricaturist, though, to our astonishment, he assured us he 
+had never drawn, or used a colour-box, till late in life.  He 
+had now learnt to use it, in a way that did not invariably 
+give satisfaction.  Landseer always struck me as sensitive 
+and proud, a Diogenes-tempered individual who had been spoilt 
+by the toadyism of great people.  He was agreeable if made 
+much of, or almost equally so if others were made little of.
+
+But of all those named, surely John Lawrence was the 
+greatest.  I wish I had read his life before it ended.  Yet, 
+without knowing anything more of him than that he was Chief 
+Commissioner of the Punjab, which did not convey much to my 
+understanding, one felt the greatness of the man beneath his 
+calm simplicity.  One day the party went out for a deer-
+drive; I was instructed to place Sir John in the pass below 
+mine.  To my disquietude he wore a black overcoat.  I assured 
+him that not a stag would come within a mile of us, unless he 
+covered himself with a grey plaid, or hid behind a large rock 
+there was, where I assured him he would see nothing.
+
+'Have the deer to pass me before they go on to you?' he 
+asked.
+
+'Certainly they have,' said I; 'I shall be up there above 
+you.'
+
+'Well then,' was his answer, 'I'll get behind the rock - it 
+will be more snug out of the wind.'
+
+One might as well have asked the deer not to see him, as try 
+to persuade John Lawrence not to sacrifice himself for 
+others.  That he did so here was certain, for the deer came 
+within fifty yards of him, but he never fired a shot.
+
+Another of the Indian viceroys was the innocent occasion of 
+great discomfort to me, or rather his wife was.  Lady Elgin 
+had left behind her a valuable diamond necklace.  I was going 
+back to my private tutor at Ely a few days after, and the 
+necklace was entrusted to me to deliver to its owner on my 
+way through London.  There was no railway then further north 
+than Darlington, except that between Edinburgh and Glasgow.  
+When I reached Edinburgh by coach from Inverness, my 
+portmanteau was not to be found.  The necklace was in a 
+despatch-box in my portmanteau; and by an unlucky oversight, 
+I had put my purse into my despatch-box.  What was to be 
+done?  I was a lad of seventeen, in a town where I did not 
+know a soul, with seven or eight shillings at most in my 
+pocket.  I had to break my journey and to stop where I was 
+till I could get news of the necklace; this alone was clear 
+to me, for the necklace was the one thing I cared for.
+
+At the coach office all the comfort I could get was that the 
+lost luggage might have gone on to Glasgow; or, what was more 
+probable, might have gone astray at Burntisland.  It might 
+not have been put on board, or it might not have been taken 
+off the ferry-steamer.  This could not be known for twenty-
+four hours, as there was no boat to or from Burntisland till 
+the morrow.  I decided to try Glasgow.  A return third-class 
+ticket left me without a copper.  I went, found nothing, got 
+back to Edinburgh at 10 P.M., ravenously hungry, dead tired, 
+and so frightened about the necklace that food, bed, means of 
+continuing my journey, were as mere death compared with 
+irreparable dishonour.  What would they all think of me?  How 
+could I prove that I had not stolen the diamonds?  Would Lord 
+Elgin accuse me?  How could I have been such an idiot as to 
+leave them in my portmanteau!  Some rascal might break it 
+open, and then, goodbye to my chance for ever!  Chance? what 
+chance was there of seeing that luggage again?  There were so 
+many 'mights.'  I couldn't even swear that I had seen it on 
+the coach at Inverness.  Oh dear! oh dear!  What was to be 
+done?  I walked about the streets; I glanced woefully at 
+door-steps, whereon to pass the night; I gazed piteously 
+through the windows of a cheap cook's shop, where solid 
+wedges of baked pudding, that would have stopped digestion 
+for a month, were advertised for a penny a block.  How rich 
+should I have been if I had had a penny in my pocket!  But I 
+had to turn away in despair.
+
+At last the inspiration came.  I remembered hearing Mr. 
+Ellice say that he always put up at Douglas' Hotel when he 
+stayed in Edinburgh.  I had very little hope of success, but 
+I was too miserable to hesitate.  It was very late, and 
+everybody might be gone to bed.  I rang the bell.  'I want to 
+see the landlord.'
+
+'Any name?' the porter asked.
+
+'No.'  The landlord came, fat, amiable looking.  'May I speak 
+to you in private?'  He showed the way to an unoccupied room.  
+'I think you know Mr. Ellice?'
+
+'Glenquoich, do you mean?'
+
+'Yes.'
+
+'Oh, very well - he always stays here on his way through.'
+
+'I am his step-son; I left Glenquoich yesterday.  I have lost 
+my luggage, and am left without any money.  Will you lend me 
+five pounds?'  I believe if I were in the same strait now, 
+and entered any strange hotel in the United Kingdom at half-
+past ten at night, and asked the landlord to give me five 
+pounds upon a similar security, he would laugh in my face, or 
+perhaps give me in charge of a policeman.
+
+My host of Douglas' did neither; but opened both his heart 
+and his pocket-book, and with the greatest good humour handed 
+me the requested sum.  What good people there are in this 
+world, which that crusty old Sir Peter Teazle calls 'a d-d 
+wicked one.'  I poured out all my trouble to the generous 
+man.  He ordered me an excellent supper, and a very nice 
+room.  And on the following day, after taking a great deal of 
+trouble, he recovered my lost luggage and the priceless 
+treasure it contained.  It was a proud and happy moment when 
+I returned his loan, and convinced him, of what he did not 
+seem to doubt, that I was positively not a swindler.
+
+But the roofless night and the empty belly, consequent on an 
+empty pocket, was a lesson which I trust was not thrown away 
+upon me.  It did not occur to me to do so, but I certainly 
+might have picked a pocket, if - well, if I had been brought 
+up to it.  Honesty, as I have often thought since, is dirt 
+cheap if only one can afford it.
+
+Before departing from my beloved Glenquoich, I must pay a 
+passing tribute to the remarkable qualities of Mrs. Edward 
+Ellice and of her youngest sister Mrs. Robert Ellice, the 
+mother of the present member for St. Andrews.  It was, in a 
+great measure, the bright intelligence, the rare tact, and 
+social gifts of these two ladies that made this beautiful 
+Highland resort so attractive to all comers.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+
+
+THE winter of 1854-55 I spent in Rome.  Here I made the 
+acquaintance of Leighton, then six-and-twenty.  I saw a good 
+deal of him, as I lived almost entirely amongst the artists, 
+taking lessons myself in water colours of Leitch.  Music also 
+brought us into contact.  He had a beautiful voice, and used 
+to sing a good deal with Mrs. Sartoris - Adelaide Kemble - 
+whom he greatly admired, and whose portrait is painted under 
+a monk's cowl, in the Cimabue procession.
+
+Calling on him one morning, I found him on his knees 
+buttering and rolling up this great picture, preparatory to 
+sending it to the Academy.  I made some remark about its 
+unusual size, saying with a sceptical smile, 'It will take up 
+a lot of room.'
+
+'If they ever hang it,' he replied; 'but there's not much 
+chance of that.'
+
+Seeing that his reputation was yet to win, it certainly 
+seemed a bold venture to make so large a demand for space to 
+begin with.  He did not appear the least sanguine.  But it 
+was accepted; and Prince Albert bought it before the 
+Exhibition opened.
+
+Gibson also I saw much of.  He had executed a large alto-
+rilievo monument of my mother, which is now in my parish 
+church, and the model of which is on the landing of one of 
+the staircases of the National Gallery.  His studio was 
+always an interesting lounge, for he was ever ready to 
+lecture upon antique marbles.  To listen to him was like 
+reading the 'Laocoon,' which he evidently had at his fingers' 
+ends.  My companion through the winter was Mr. Reginald 
+Cholmondeley, a Cambridge ally, who was studying painting.  
+He was the uncle of Miss Cholmondeley the well-known 
+authoress, whose mother, by the way, was a first cousin of 
+George Cayley's, and also a great friend of mine.
+
+On my return to England I took up my abode in Dean's Yard, 
+and shared a house there with Mr. Cayley, the Yorkshire 
+member, and his two sons, the eldest a barrister, and my 
+friend George.  Here for several years we had exceedingly 
+pleasant gatherings of men more or less distinguished in 
+literature and art.  Tennyson was a frequent visitor - coming 
+late, after dinner hours, to smoke his pipe.  He varied a 
+good deal, sometimes not saying a word, but quietly listening 
+to our chatter.  Thackeray also used to drop in occasionally.
+
+George Cayley and I, with the assistance of his father and 
+others, had started a weekly paper called 'The Realm.'  It 
+was professedly a currency paper, and also supported a fiscal 
+policy advocated by Mr. Cayley and some of his parliamentary 
+clique.  Coming in one day, and finding us hard at work, 
+Thackeray asked for information.  We handed him a copy of the 
+paper.  'Ah,' he exclaimed, with mock solemnity, '"The 
+Rellum," should be printed on vellum.'  He too, like 
+Tennyson, was variable.  But this depended on whom he found.  
+In the presence of a stranger he was grave and silent.  He 
+would never venture on puerile jokes like this of his 
+'Rellum' - a frequent playfulness, when at his ease, which 
+contrasted so unexpectedly with his impenetrable exterior.  
+He was either gauging the unknown person, or feeling that he 
+was being gauged.  Monckton Milnes was another.  Seeing me 
+correcting some proof sheets, he said, 'Let me give you a 
+piece of advice, my young friend.  Write as much as you 
+please, but the less you print the better.'
+
+'For me, or for others?'
+
+'For both.'
+
+George Cayley had a natural gift for, and had acquired 
+considerable skill, in the embossing and working of silver 
+ware.  Millais so admired his art that he commissioned him to 
+make a large tea-tray; Millais provided the silver.  Round 
+the border of the tray were beautifully modelled sea-shells, 
+cray-fish, crabs, and fish of quaint forms, in high relief.  
+Millais was so pleased with the work that he afterwards 
+painted, and presented to Cayley, a fine portrait in his best 
+style of Cayley's son, a boy of six or seven years old.
+
+Laurence Oliphant was one of George Cayley's friends.  
+Attractive as he was in many ways, I had little sympathy with 
+his religious opinions, nor did I comprehend Oliphant's 
+exalted inspirations; I failed to see their practical 
+bearing, and, at that time I am sorry to say, looked upon him 
+as an amiable faddist.  A special favourite with both of us 
+was William Stirling of Keir.  His great work on the Spanish 
+painters, and his 'Cloister Life of Charles the Fifth,' 
+excited our unbounded admiration, while his BONHOMIE and 
+radiant humour were a delight we were always eager to 
+welcome.
+
+George Cayley and I now entered at Lincoln's Inn.  At the end 
+of three years he was duly called to the Bar.  I was not; for 
+alas, as usual, something 'turned up,' which drew me in 
+another direction.  For a couple of years, however, I 'ate' 
+my terms - not unfrequently with William Harcourt, with whom 
+Cayley had a Yorkshire intimacy even before our Cambridge 
+days.
+
+Old Mr. Cayley, though not the least strait-laced, was a 
+religious man.  A Unitarian by birth and conviction, he began 
+and ended the day with family prayers.  On Sundays he would 
+always read to us, or make us read to him, a sermon of 
+Channing's, or of Theodore Parker's, or what we all liked 
+better, one of Frederick Robertson's.  He was essentially a 
+good man.  He had been in Parliament all his life, and was a 
+broad-minded, tolerant, philosophical man-of-the-world.  He 
+had a keen sense of humour, and was rather sarcastical; but, 
+for all that, he was sensitively earnest, and conscientious.  
+I had the warmest affection and respect for him.  Such a 
+character exercised no small influence upon our conduct and 
+our opinions, especially as his approval or disapproval of 
+these visibly affected his own happiness.
+
+He was never easy unless he was actively engaged in some 
+benevolent scheme, the promotion of some charity, or in what 
+he considered his parliamentary duties, which he contrived to 
+make very burdensome to his conscience.  As his health was 
+bad, these self-imposed obligations were all the more 
+onerous; but he never spared himself, or his somewhat scanty 
+means.  Amongst other minor tasks, he used to teach at the 
+Sunday-school of St. John's, Westminster; in this he 
+persuaded me to join him.  The only other volunteer, not a 
+clergyman, was Page Wood - a great friend of Mr. Cayley's - 
+afterwards Lord Chancellor Hatherley.  In spite of Mr. 
+Cayley's Unitarianism, like Frederick the Great, he was all 
+for letting people 'go to Heaven in their own way,' and was 
+moreover quite ready to help them in their own way.  So that 
+he had no difficulty in hearing the boys repeat the day's 
+collect, or the Creed, even if Athanasian, in accordance with 
+the prescribed routine of the clerical teachers.
+
+This was right, at all events for him, if he thought it 
+right.  My spirit of nonconformity did not permit me to 
+follow his example.  Instead thereof, my teaching was purely 
+secular.  I used to take a volume of Mrs. Marcet's 
+'Conversations' in my pocket; and with the aid of the 
+diagrams, explain the application of the mechanical forces, - 
+the inclined plane, the screw, the pulley, the wedge, and the 
+lever.  After two or three Sundays my class was largely 
+increased, for the children keenly enjoyed their competitive 
+examinations.  I would also give them bits of poetry to get 
+by heart for the following Sunday - lines from Gray's 
+'Elegy,' from Wordsworth, from Pope's 'Essay on Man' - such 
+in short as had a moral rather than a religious tendency.
+
+After some weeks of this, the boys becoming clamorous in 
+their zeal to correct one another, one of the curates left 
+his class to hear what was going on in mine.  We happened at 
+the moment to be dealing with geography.  The curate, 
+evidently shocked, went away and brought another curate.  
+Then the two together departed, and brought back the rector - 
+Dr. Jennings, one of the Westminster Canons - a most kind and 
+excellent man.  I went on as if unconscious of the 
+censorship, the boys exerting themselves all the more eagerly 
+for the sake of the 'gallery.'  When the hour was up, Canon 
+Jennings took me aside, and in the most polite manner thanked 
+me for my 'valuable assistance,' but did not think that the 
+'Essay on Man,' or especially geography, was suited for the 
+teaching in a Sunday-school.  I told him I knew it was 
+useless to contend with so high a canonical authority; 
+personally I did not see the impiety of geography, but then, 
+as he already knew, I was a confirmed latitudinarian.  He 
+clearly did not see the joke, but intimated that my services 
+would henceforth be dispensed with.
+
+Of course I was wrong, though I did not know it then, for it 
+must be borne in mind that there were no Board Schools in 
+those days, and general education, amongst the poor, was 
+deplorably deficient.  At first, my idea was to give the 
+children (they were all boys) a taste for the 'humanities,' 
+which might afterwards lead to their further pursuit.  I 
+assumed that on the Sunday they would be thinking of the 
+baked meats awaiting them when church was over, or of their 
+week-day tops and tipcats; but I was equally sure that a time 
+would come when these would be forgotten, and the other 
+things remembered.  The success was greater from the 
+beginning than could be looked for; and some years afterwards 
+I had reason to hope that the forecast was not altogether too 
+sanguine.
+
+While the Victoria Tower was being built, I stopped one day 
+to watch the masons chiselling the blocks of stone.  
+Presently one of them, in a flannel jacket and a paper cap, 
+came and held out his hand to me.  He was a handsome young 
+fellow with a big black beard and moustache, both powdered 
+with his chippings.
+
+'You don't remember me, sir, do you?'
+
+'Did I ever see you before?'
+
+'My name is Richards; don't you remember, sir?  I was one of 
+the boys you used to teach at the Sunday-school.  It gave me 
+a turn for mechanics, which I followed up; and that's how I 
+took to this trade.  I'm a master mason now, sir; and the 
+whole of this lot is under me.'
+
+'I wonder what you would have been,' said I, 'if we'd stuck 
+to the collects?'
+
+'I don't think I should have had a hand in this little job,' 
+he answered, looking up with pride at the mighty tower, as 
+though he had a creative share in its construction.
+
+All this while I was working hard at my own education, and 
+trying to make up for the years I had wasted (so I thought of 
+them), by knocking about the world.  I spent laborious days 
+and nights in reading, dabbling in geology, chemistry, 
+physiology, metaphysics, and what not.  On the score of 
+dogmatic religion I was as restless as ever.  I had an 
+insatiable thirst for knowledge; but was without guidance.  I 
+wanted to learn everything; and, not knowing in what 
+direction to concentrate my efforts, learnt next to nothing.  
+All knowledge seemed to me equally important, for all bore 
+alike upon the great problems of belief and of existence.  
+But what to pursue, what to relinquish, appeared to me an 
+unanswerable riddle.  Difficult as this puzzle was, I did not 
+know then that a long life's experience would hardly make it 
+simpler.  The man who has to earn his bread must fain resolve 
+to adapt his studies to that end.  His choice not often rests 
+with him.  But the unfortunate being cursed in youth with the 
+means of idleness, yet without genius, without talents even, 
+is terribly handicapped and perplexed.
+
+And now, with life behind me, how should I advise another in 
+such a plight?  When a young lady, thus embarrassed, wrote to 
+Carlyle for counsel, he sympathetically bade her 'put her 
+drawers in order.'
+
+Here is the truth to be faced at the outset:  'Man has but 
+the choice to go a little way in many paths, or a great way 
+in only one.'  'Tis thus John Mill puts it.  Which will he, 
+which should he, choose?  Both courses lead alike to 
+incompleteness.  The universal man is no specialist, and has 
+to generalise without his details.  The specialist sees only 
+through his microscope, and knows about as much of cosmology 
+as does his microbe.  Goethe, the most comprehensive of 
+Seers, must needs expose his incompleteness by futile 
+attempts to disprove Newton's theory of colour.  Newton must 
+needs expose his, by a still more lamentable attempt to prove 
+the Apocalypse as true as his own discovery of the laws of 
+gravitation.  All science nowadays is necessarily confined to 
+experts.  Without illustrating the fact by invidious hints, I 
+invite anyone to consider the intellectual cost to the world 
+which such limitation entails; nor is the loss merely 
+negative; the specialist is unfortunately too often a bigot, 
+when beyond his contracted sphere.
+
+This, you will say, is arguing in a circle.  The universal 
+must be given up for the detail, the detail for the 
+universal; we leave off where we began.  Yes, that is the 
+dilemma.  Still, the gain to science through a devotion of a 
+whole life to a mere group of facts, in a single branch of a 
+single science, may be an incalculable acquisition to human 
+knowledge, to the intellectual capital of the race - a gain 
+that sometimes far outweighs the loss.  Even if we narrow the 
+question to the destiny of the individual, the sacrifice of 
+each one for the good of the whole is doubtless the highest 
+aim the one can have.
+
+But this conclusion scarcely helps us; for remember, the 
+option is not given to all.  Genius, or talent, or special 
+aptitude, is a necessary equipment for such an undertaking.  
+Great discoverers must be great observers, dexterous 
+manipulators, ingenious contrivers, and patient thinkers.
+
+The difficulty we started with was, what you and I, my 
+friend, who perhaps have to row in the same boat, and perhaps 
+'with the same sculls,' without any of these provisions, what 
+we should do?  What point of the compass should we steer for?  
+'Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.'  
+Truly there could be no better advice.  But the 'finding' is 
+the puzzle; and like the search for truth it must, I fear, be 
+left to each one's power to do it.  And then - and then the 
+countless thousands who have the leisure without the means - 
+who have hands at least, and yet no work to put them to - 
+what is to be done for these?  Not in your time or mine, dear 
+friend, will that question be answered.  For this, I fear we 
+must wait till by the 'universal law of adaptation' we reach 
+'the ultimate development of the ideal man.'  'Colossal 
+optimism,' exclaims the critic.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+
+
+IN February, 1855, Roebuck moved for a select committee to 
+inquire into the condition of the Army before Sebastopol.  
+Lord John Russell, who was leader of the House, treated this 
+as a vote of censure, and resigned.  Lord Palmerston resisted 
+Roebuck's motion, and generously defended the Government he 
+was otherwise opposed to.  But the motion was carried by a 
+majority of 157, and Lord Aberdeen was turned out of office.  
+The Queen sent for Lord Derby, but without Lord Palmerston he 
+was unable to form a Ministry.  Lord John was then appealed 
+to, with like results; and the premiership was practically 
+forced upon Palmerston, in spite of his unpopularity at 
+Court.  Mr. Horsman was made Chief Secretary for Ireland; and 
+through Mr. Ellice I became his private secretary.
+
+Before I went to the Irish Office I was all but a stranger to 
+my chief.  I had met him occasionally in the tennis court; 
+but the net was always between us.  He was a man with a great 
+deal of manner, but with very little of what the French call 
+'conviction.'  Nothing keeps people at a distance more 
+effectually than simulated sincerity; Horsman was a master of 
+the art.  I was profoundly ignorant of my duties.  But though 
+this was a great inconvenience to me at first, it led to a 
+friendship which I greatly prized until its tragic end.  For 
+all information as to the writers of letters, as to Irish 
+Members who applied for places for themselves, or for others, 
+I had to consult the principal clerk.  He was himself an 
+Irishman of great ability; and though young, was either 
+personally or officially acquainted, so it seemed to me, with 
+every Irishman in the House of Commons, or out of it.  His 
+name is too well known - it was Thomas Bourke, afterwards 
+Under Secretary, and one of the victims of the Fenian 
+assassins in the Phoenix Park.  His patience and amiability 
+were boundless; and under his guidance I soon learnt the 
+tricks of my trade.
+
+During the session we remained in London; and for some time 
+it was of great interest to listen to the debates.  When 
+Irish business was before the House, I had often to be in 
+attendance on my chief in the reporters' gallery.  Sometimes 
+I had to wait there for an hour or two before our questions 
+came on, and thus had many opportunities of hearing Bright, 
+Gladstone, Disraeli, and all the leading speakers.  After a 
+time the pleasure, when compulsory, began to pall; and I used 
+to wonder what on earth could induce the ruck to waste their 
+time in following, sheeplike, their bell-wethers, or waste 
+their money in paying for that honour.  When Parliament was 
+up we moved to Dublin.  I lived with Horsman in the Chief 
+Secretary's lodge.  And as I had often stayed at Castle 
+Howard before Lord Carlisle became Viceroy, between the two 
+lodges I saw a great deal of pleasant society.
+
+Amongst those who came to stay with Horsman was Sidney 
+Herbert, then Colonial Secretary, a man of singular nobility 
+of nature.  Another celebrity for the day, but of a very 
+different character, was Lord Cardigan.  He had just returned 
+from the Crimea, and was now in command of the forces in 
+Ireland.  This was about six months after the Balaklava 
+charge.  Horsman asked him one evening to give a description 
+of it, with a plan of the battle.  His Lordship did so; no 
+words could be more suited to the deed.  If this was 'pell-
+mell, havock, and confusion,' the account of it was 
+proportionately confounded.  The noble leader scrawled and 
+inked and blotted all the phases of the battle upon the same 
+scrap of paper, till the batteries were at the starting-point 
+of the charge, the Light Brigade on the far side of the guns, 
+and all the points of the compass, attack and defence, had 
+changed their original places; in fact, the gallant Earl 
+brandished his pen as valiantly as he had his sword.  When 
+quite bewildered, like everybody else, I ventured mildly to 
+ask, 'But where were you, Lord Cardigan, and where were our 
+men when it came to this?'
+
+'Where?  Where?  God bless my soul!  How should I know where 
+anybody was?'  And this, no doubt, described the situation to 
+a nicety.
+
+My office was in the Castle, and the next room to mine was 
+that of the Solicitor-General Keogh, afterwards Judge.  We 
+became the greatest of friends.  It was one of Horsman's 
+peculiarities to do business circuitously.  He was fond of 
+mysteries and of secrets, secrets that were to be kept from 
+everyone, but which were generally known to the office 
+messengers.  When Keogh and I met in the morning he would 
+say, with admirable imitation of Horsman's manner, 'Well, it 
+is all settled; the Viceroy has considered the question, and 
+has decided to act upon my advice.  Mind you don't tell 
+anyone - it is a profound secret,' then, lowering his voice 
+and looking round the room, 'His Excellency has consented to 
+score at the next cricket match between the garrison and the 
+Civil Service.'  If it were a constabulary appointment, or 
+even a village post-office, the Attorney or the Solicitor-
+General would be strictly enjoined not to inform me, and I 
+received similar injunctions respecting them.  In spite of 
+his apparent attention to details, Mr. Horsman hunted three 
+days a week, and stated in the House of Commons that the 
+office of Chief Secretary was a farce, meaning when excluded 
+from the Cabinet.  All I know is, that his private secretary 
+was constantly at work an hour before breakfast by candle-
+light, and never got a single day's holiday throughout the 
+winter.
+
+Horsman had hired a shooting - Balnaboth in Scotland; here, 
+too, I had to attend upon him in the autumn, mainly for the 
+purpose of copying voluminous private correspondence about a 
+sugar estate he owned at Singapore, then producing a large 
+income, but the subsequent failure of which was his ruin.  
+One year Sir Alexander Cockburn, the Lord Chief Justice, came 
+to stay with him; and excellent company he was.  Horsman had 
+sometimes rather an affected way of talking; and referring to 
+some piece of political news, asked Cockburn whether he had 
+seen it in the 'Courier.'  This he pronounced with an accent 
+on the last syllable, like the French 'Courrier.'  Cockburn, 
+with a slight twinkle in his eye, answered in his quiet way, 
+'No, I didn't see it in the "Courrier," perhaps it is in the 
+"Morning Post,"' also giving the French pronunciation to the 
+latter word.
+
+Sir Alexander told us an amusing story about Disraeli.  He 
+and Bernal Osborne were talking together about Mrs. Disraeli, 
+when presently Osborne, with characteristic effrontery, 
+exclaimed:  'My dear Dizzy, how could you marry such a 
+woman?'  The answer was; 'My dear Bernal, you never knew what 
+gratitude was, or you would not ask the question.'
+
+The answer was a gracious one, and doubtless sincere.  But, 
+despite his cynicism, no one could be more courteous or say 
+prettier things than Disraeli.  Here is a little story that 
+was told me at the time by my sister-in-law, who was a woman 
+of the bedchamber, and was present on the occasion.  When her 
+Majesty Queen Alexandra was suffering from an accident to her 
+knee, and had to use crutches, Disraeli said to her:  'I have 
+heard of a devil on two sticks, but never before knew an 
+angel to use them.'
+
+Keogh, Bourke, and I, made several pleasant little excursions 
+to such places as Bray, the Seven Churches, Powerscourt, &c., 
+and, with a chosen car-driver, the wit and fun of the three 
+clever Irishmen was no small treat.  The last time I saw 
+either of my two friends was at a dinner-party which Bourke 
+gave at the 'Windham.'  We were only four, to make up a whist 
+party; the fourth was Fred Clay, the composer.  It is sad to 
+reflect that two of the lot came to violent ends - Keogh, the 
+cheeriest of men in society, by his own hands.  Bourke I had 
+often spoken to of the danger he ran in crossing the Phoenix 
+Park nightly on his way home, on foot and unarmed.  He 
+laughed at me, and rather indignantly - for he was a very 
+vain man, though one of the most good-natured fellows in the 
+world.  In the first place, he prided himself on his physique 
+- he was a tall, well-built, handsome man, and a good boxer 
+and fencer to boot.  In the next place, he prided himself 
+above all things on being a thorough-bred Irishman, with a 
+sneaking sympathy with even Fenian grievances.  'They all 
+know ME,' he would say.  'The rascals know I'm the best 
+friend they have.  I'm the last man in the world they'd harm, 
+for political reasons.  Anyway, I can take care of myself.'  
+And so it was he fell.
+
+The end of Horsman's secretaryship is soon told.  A bishopric 
+became vacant, and almost as much intrigue was set agoing as 
+we read of in the wonderful story of 'L'Anneau d'Amethyste.'  
+Horsman, at all times a profuse letter-writer, wrote folios 
+to Lord Palmerston on the subject, each letter more 
+exuberant, more urgent than the last.  But no answer came.  
+Finally, the whole Irish vote, according to the Chief 
+Secretary, being at stake - not to mention the far more 
+important matter of personal and official dignity - Horsman 
+flew off to London, boiling over with impatience and 
+indignation.  He rushed to 10 Downing Street.  His Lordship 
+was at the Foreign office, but was expected every minute; 
+would Mr. Horsman wait?  Mr. Horsman was shown into his 
+Lordship's room.  Piles of letters, opened and unopened, were 
+lying upon the table.  The Chief Secretary recognised his own 
+signatures on the envelopes of a large bundle, all amongst 
+the 'un's.' The Premier came in, an explanation EXTREMEMENT 
+VIVE followed; on his return to Dublin Mr. Horsman resigned 
+his post, and from that moment became one of Lord 
+Palmerston's bitterest opponents.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL
+
+
+
+THE lectures at the Royal Institution were of some help to 
+me.  I attended courses by Owen, Tyndall, Huxley, and Bain.  
+Of these, Huxley was FACILE PRINCEPS, though both Owen and 
+Tyndall were second to no other.  Bain was disappointing.  I 
+was a careful student of his books, and always admired the 
+logical lucidity of his writing.  But to the mixed audience 
+he had to lecture to - fashionable young ladies in their 
+teens, and drowsy matrons in charge of them, he discreetly 
+kept clear of transcendentals.  In illustration perhaps of 
+some theory of the relation of the senses to the intellect, 
+he would tell an amusing anecdote of a dog that had had an 
+injured leg dressed at a certain house, after which the 
+recovered dog brought a canine friend to the same house to 
+have his leg - or tail - repaired.  Out would come all the 
+tablets and pretty pencil cases, and every young lady would 
+be busy for the rest of the lecture in recording the 
+marvellous history.  If the dog's name had been 'Spot' or 
+'Bob,' the important psychological fact would have been 
+faithfully registered.  As to the theme of the discourse, 
+that had nothing to do with - millinery.  And Mr. Bain 
+doubtless did not overlook the fact.
+
+Owen was an accomplished lecturer; but one's attention to him 
+depended on two things - a primary interest in the subject, 
+and some elementary acquaintance with it.  If, for example, 
+his subject were the comparative anatomy of the cycloid and 
+ganoid fishes, the difference in their scales was scarcely of 
+vital importance to one's general culture.  But if he were 
+lecturing on fish, he would stick to fish; it would be 
+essentially a JOUR MAIGRE.
+
+With Huxley, the suggestion was worth more than the thing 
+said.  One thought of it afterwards, and wondered whether his 
+words implied all they seemed to imply.  One knew that the 
+scientist was also a philosopher; and one longed to get at 
+him, at the man himself, and listen to the lessons which his 
+work had taught him.  At one of these lectures I had the 
+honour of being introduced to him by a great friend of mine, 
+John Marshall, then President of the College of Surgeons.  In 
+later years I used to meet him constantly at the Athenaeum.
+
+Looking back to the days of one's plasticity, two men are 
+pre-eminent among my Dii Majores.  To John Stuart Mill and to 
+Thomas Huxley I owe more, educationally, than to any other 
+teachers.  Mill's logic was simply a revelation to me.  For 
+what Kant calls 'discipline,' I still know no book, unless it 
+be the 'Critique' itself, equal to it.  But perhaps it is the 
+men themselves, their earnestness, their splendid courage, 
+their noble simplicity, that most inspired one with 
+reverence.  It was Huxley's aim to enlighten the many, and he 
+enlightened them.  It was Mill's lot to help thinkers, and he 
+helped them.  SAPERE AUDE was the motto of both.  How few 
+there are who dare to adopt it!  To love truth is valiantly 
+professed by all; but to pursue it at all costs, to 'dare to 
+be wise' needs daring of the highest order.
+
+Mill had the enormous advantage, to start with, of an 
+education unbiassed by any theological creed; and he brought 
+exceptional powers of abstract reasoning to bear upon matters 
+of permanent and supreme importance to all men.  Yet, in 
+spite of his ruthless impartiality, I should not hesitate to 
+call him a religious man.  This very tendency which no 
+imaginative mind, no man or woman with any strain of poetical 
+feeling, can be without, invests Mill's character with a 
+clash of humanity which entitles him to a place in our 
+affections.  It is in this respect that he so widely differs 
+from Mr. Herbert Spencer.  Courageous Mr. Spencer was, but 
+his courage seems to have been due almost as much to absence 
+of sympathy or kinship with his fellow-creatures, and to his 
+contempt of their opinions, as from his dispassionate love of 
+truth, or his sometimes passionate defence of his own tenets.
+
+My friend Napier told me an amusing little story about John 
+Mill when he was in the East India Company's administration.  
+Mr. Macvey Napier, my friend's elder brother, was the senior 
+clerk.  On John Mill's retirement, his co-officials 
+subscribed to present him with a silver standish.  Such was 
+the general sense of Mill's modest estimate of his own 
+deserts, and of his aversion to all acknowledgment of them, 
+that Mr. Napier, though it fell to his lot, begged others to 
+join in the ceremony of presentation.  All declined; the 
+inkstand was left upon Mill's table when he himself was out 
+of the room.
+
+Years after the time of which I am writing, when Mill stood 
+for Westminster, I had the good fortune to be on the platform 
+at St. James's Hall, next but one to him, when he made his 
+first speech to the electors.  He was completely unknown to 
+the public, and, though I worshipped the man, I had never 
+seen him, nor had an idea what he looked like.  To satisfy my 
+curiosity I tried to get a portrait of him at the 
+photographic shop in Regent Street.
+
+'I want a photograph of Mr. Mill.'
+
+'Mill?  Mill?' repeated the shopman, 'Oh yes, sir, I know - a 
+great sporting gent,' and he produced the portrait of a 
+sportsman in top boots and a hunting cap.
+
+Very different from this was the figure I then saw.  The hall 
+and the platform were crowded.  Where was the principal 
+personage?  Presently, quite alone, up the side steps, and 
+unobserved, came a thin but tallish man in black, with a tail 
+coat, and, almost unrecognised, took the vacant front seat.  
+He might have been, so far as dress went, a clerk in a 
+counting-house, or an undertaker.  But the face was no 
+ordinary one.  The wide brow, the sharp nose of the Burke 
+type, the compressed lips and strong chin, were suggestive of 
+intellect and of suppressed emotion.  There was no applause, 
+for nothing was known to the crowd, even of his opinions, 
+beyond the fact that he was the Liberal candidate for 
+Westminster.  He spoke with perfect ease to himself, never 
+faltering for the right word, which seemed to be always at 
+his command.  If interrupted by questions, as he constantly 
+was, his answers could not have been amended had he written 
+them.  His voice was not strong, and there were frequent 
+calls from the far end to 'speak up, speak up; we can't hear 
+you.'  He did not raise his pitch a note.  They might as well 
+have tried to bully an automaton.  He was doing his best, and 
+he could do no more.  Then, when, instead of the usual 
+adulations, instead of declamatory appeals to the passions of 
+a large and a mixed assembly, he gave them to understand, in 
+very plain language, that even socialists are not infallible, 
+- that extreme and violent opinions, begotten of ignorance, 
+do not constitute the highest political wisdom; then there 
+were murmurs of dissent and disapproval.  But if the ignorant 
+and the violent could have stoned him, his calm manner would 
+still have said, 'Strike, but hear me.'
+
+Mr. Robert Grosvenor - the present Lord Ebury - then the 
+other Liberal member for Westminster, wrote to ask me to take 
+the chair at Mill's first introduction to the Pimlico 
+electors.  Such, however, was my admiration of Mill, I did 
+not feel sure that I might not say too much in his favour; 
+and mindful of the standish incident, I knew, that if I did 
+so, it would embarrass and annoy him.
+
+Under these circumstances I declined the honour.
+
+When Owen was delivering a course of lectures at Norwich, my 
+brother invited him to Holkham.  I was there, and we took 
+several long walks together.  Nothing seemed to escape his 
+observation.  My brother had just completed the recovery of 
+many hundred acres of tidal marsh by embankments.  Owen, who 
+was greatly interested, explained what would be the effect 
+upon the sandiest portion of this, in years to come; what the 
+chemical action of the rain would be, how the sand would 
+eventually become soil, how vegetation would cover it, and 
+how manure render it cultivable.  The splendid crops now 
+grown there bear testimony to his foresight.  He had always 
+something instructive to impart, stopping to contemplate 
+trifles which only a Zadig would have noticed.
+
+'I observe,' said he one day, 'that your prevailing wind here 
+is north-west.'
+
+'How do you know?' I asked.
+
+'Look at the roots of all these trees; the large roots are 
+invariably on the north-west side.  This means that the 
+strain comes on this side.  The roots which have to bear it 
+loosen the soil, and the loosened soil favours the extension 
+and the growth of the roots.  Nature is beautifully 
+scientific.'
+
+Some years after this, I published a book called 'Creeds of 
+the Day.'  My purpose was to show, in a popular form, the 
+bearings of science and speculative thought upon the 
+religious creeds of the time.  I sent Owen a copy of the 
+work.  He wrote me one of the most interesting letters I ever 
+received.  He had bought the book, and had read it.  But the 
+important content of the letter was the confession of his own 
+faith.  I have purposely excluded all correspondence from 
+these Memoirs, but had it not been that a forgotten collector 
+of autographs had captured it, I should have been tempted to 
+make an exception in its favour.  The tone was agnostic; but 
+timidly agnostic.  He had never freed himself from the 
+shackles of early prepossessions.  He had not the necessary 
+daring to clear up his doubts.  Sometimes I fancy that it was 
+this difference in the two men that lay at the bottom of the 
+unfortunate antagonism between Owen and Huxley.  There is in 
+Owen's writing, where he is not purely scientific, a touch of 
+the apologist.  He cannot quite make up his mind to follow 
+evolution to its logical conclusions.  Where he is forced to 
+do so, it is to him like signing the death warrant of his 
+dearest friend.  It must not be forgotten that Owen was born 
+more than twenty years before Huxley; and great as was the 
+offence of free-thinking in Huxley's youth, it was nothing 
+short of anathema in Owen's.  When I met him at Holkham, the 
+'Origin of Species' had not been published; and Napier and I 
+did all we could to get Owen to express some opinion on 
+Lamarck's theory, for he and I used to talk confidentially on 
+this fearful heresy even then.  But Owen was ever on his 
+guard.  He evaded our questions and changed the subject.
+
+Whenever I pass near the South Kensington Museum I step aside 
+to look at the noble statues of the two illustrious men.  A 
+mere glance at them, and we appreciate at once their 
+respective characters.  In the one we see passive wisdom, in 
+the other militant force.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI
+
+
+
+BEFORE I went to America, I made the acquaintance of Dr. 
+George Bird; he continued to be one of my most intimate 
+friends till his death, fifty years afterwards.  When I first 
+knew him, Bird was the medical adviser and friend of Leigh 
+Hunt, whose family I used often to meet at his house.  He had 
+been dependent entirely upon his own exertions; had married 
+young; and had had a pretty hard fight at starting to provide 
+for his children and for himself.  His energy, his abilities, 
+his exceeding amiability, and remarkable social qualities, 
+gradually procured him a large practice and hosts of devoted 
+friends.  He began looking for the season for sprats - the 
+cheapest of fish - to come in; by middle life he was 
+habitually and sumptuously entertaining the celebrities of 
+art and literature.  With his accomplished sister, Miss Alice 
+Bird, to keep house for him, there were no pleasanter dinner 
+parties or receptions in London.  His CLIENTELE was mainly 
+amongst the artistic world.  He was a great friend of Miss 
+Ellen Terry's, Mr. Marcus Stone and his sisters were 
+frequenters of his house, so were Mr. Swinburne, Mr. Woolner 
+the sculptor - of whom I was not particularly fond - Horace 
+Wigan the actor, and his father, the Burtons, who were much 
+attached to him - Burton dedicated one volume of his 'Arabian 
+Nights' to him - Sir William Crookes, Mr. Justin Macarthy and 
+his talented son, and many others.
+
+The good doctor was a Radical and Home Ruler, and attended 
+professionally the members of one or two labouring men's 
+clubs for fees which, as far as I could learn, were 
+rigorously nominal.  His great delight was to get an order 
+for the House of Commons, especially on nights when Mr. 
+Gladstone spoke; and, being to the last day of his life as 
+simple-minded as a child, had a profound belief in the 
+statemanship and integrity of that renowned orator.
+
+As far as personality goes, the Burtons were, perhaps, the 
+most notable of the above-named.  There was a mystery about 
+Burton which was in itself a fascination.  No one knew what 
+he had done; or consequently what he might not do.  He never 
+boasted, never hinted that he had done, or could do, anything 
+different from other men; and, in spite of the mystery, one 
+felt that he was transparently honest and sincere.  He was 
+always the same, always true to himself; but then, that 
+'self' was a something PER SE, which could not be 
+categorically classed - precedent for guidance was lacking.  
+There is little doubt Burton had gipsy blood in his veins; 
+there was something Oriental in his temperament, and even in 
+his skin.
+
+One summer's day I found him reading the paper in the 
+Athenaeum.  He was dressed in a complete suit of white - 
+white trousers, a white linen coat, and a very shabby old 
+white hat.  People would have stared at him anywhere.
+
+'Hullo, Burton!' I exclaimed, touching his linen coat, 'Do 
+you find it so hot - DEJA?'
+
+Said he:  'I don't want to be mistaken for other people.'
+
+'There's not much fear of that, even without your clothes,' I 
+replied.
+
+Such an impromptu answer as his would, from any other, have 
+implied vanity.  Yet no man could have been less vain, or 
+more free from affectation.  It probably concealed regret at 
+finding himself conspicuous.
+
+After dinner at the Birds' one evening we fell to talking of 
+garrotters.  About this time the police reports were full of 
+cases of garrotting.  The victim was seized from behind, one 
+man gagged or burked him, while another picked his pocket.
+
+'What should you do, Burton?' the Doctor asked, 'if they 
+tried to garrotte you?'
+
+'I'm quite ready for 'em,' was the answer; and turning up his 
+sleeve he partially pulled out a dagger, and shoved it back 
+again.
+
+We tried to make him tell us what became of the Arab boy who 
+accompanied him to Mecca, and whose suspicions threatened 
+Burton's betrayal, and, of consequence, his life.  I don't 
+think anyone was present except us two, both of whom he well 
+knew to be quite shock-proof, but he held his tongue.
+
+'You would have been perfectly justified in saving your own 
+life at any cost.  You would hardly have broken the sixth 
+commandment by doing so in this case,' I suggested.
+
+'No,' said he gravely, 'and as I had broken all the ten 
+before, it wouldn't have so much mattered.'
+
+The Doctor roared.  It should, however, be stated that Burton 
+took no less delight in his host's boyish simplicity, than 
+the other in what he deemed his guest's superb candour.
+
+'Come, tell us,' said Bird, 'how many men have you killed?'
+
+'How many have you, Doctor?' was the answer.
+
+Richard Burton was probably the most extraordinary linguist 
+of his day.  Lady Burton mentions, I think, in his Life, the 
+number of languages and dialects her husband knew.  That 
+Mahometans should seek instruction from him in the Koran, 
+speaks of itself for his astonishing mastery of the greatest 
+linguistic difficulties.  With Indian languages and their 
+variations, he was as completely at home as Miss Youghal's 
+Sais; and, one may suppose, could have played the ROLE of a 
+fakir as perfectly as he did that of a Mecca pilgrim.  I 
+asked him what his method was in learning a fresh language.  
+He said he wrote down as many new words as he could learn and 
+remember each day; and learnt the construction of the 
+language colloquially, before he looked at a grammar.
+
+Lady Burton was hardly less abnormal in her way than Sir 
+Richard.  She had shared his wanderings, and was intimate, as 
+no one else was, with the eccentricities of his thoughts and 
+deeds.  Whatever these might happen to be, she worshipped her 
+husband notwithstanding.  For her he was the standard of 
+excellence; all other men were departures from it.  And the 
+singularity is, her religious faith was never for an instant 
+shaken - she remained as strict a Roman Catholic as when he 
+married her from a convent.  Her enthusiasm and 
+cosmopolitanism, her NAIVETE and the sweetness of her 
+disposition made her the best of company.  She had lived so 
+much the life of a Bedouin, that her dress and her habits had 
+an Eastern glow.  When staying with the Birds, she was 
+attended by an Arab girl, one of whose duties it was to 
+prepare her mistress' chibouk, which was regularly brought in 
+with the coffee.  On one occasion, when several other ladies 
+were dining there, some of them yielded to Lady Burton's 
+persuasion to satisfy their curiosity.  The Arab girl soon 
+provided the means; and it was not long before there were 
+four or five faces as white as Mrs. Alfred Wigan's, under 
+similar circumstances, in the 'Nabob.'
+
+Alfred Wigan's father was an unforgettable man.  To describe 
+him in a word, he was Falstag REDIVIVUS.  In bulk and 
+stature, in age, in wit and humour, and morality, he was 
+Falstaff.  He knew it and gloried in it.  He would complain 
+with zest of 'larding the lean earth' as he walked along.  He 
+was as partial to whisky as his prototype to sack.  He would 
+exhaust a Johnsonian vocabulary in describing his ailments; 
+and would appeal pathetically to Miss Bird, as though at his 
+last gasp, for 'just a tea-spoonful' of the grateful 
+stimulant.  She served him with a liberal hand, till he cried 
+'Stop!'  But if she then stayed, he would softly insinuate 'I 
+didn't mean it, my dear.'  Yet he was no Costigan.  His brain 
+was stronger than casks of whisky.  And his powers of 
+digestion were in keeping.  Indeed, to borrow the well-known 
+words applied to a great man whom we all love, 'He tore his 
+dinner like a famished wolf, with the veins swelling in his 
+forehead, and the perspiration running down his cheeks.'  The 
+trend of his thoughts, though he was eminently a man of 
+intellect, followed the dictates of his senses.  Walk with 
+him in the fields and, from the full stores of a prodigious 
+memory, he would pour forth pages of the choicest poetry.  
+But if you paused to watch the lambs play, or disturbed a 
+young calf in your path, he would almost involuntarily 
+exclaim:  'How deliciously you smell of mint, my pet!' or 
+'Bless your innocent face!  What sweetbreads you will 
+provide!'
+
+James Wigan had kept a school once.  The late Serjeant 
+Ballantine, who was one of his pupils, mentions him in his 
+autobiography.  He was a good scholar, and when I first knew 
+him, used to teach elocution.  Many actors went to him, and 
+not a few members of both Houses of Parliament.  He could 
+recite nearly the whole of several of Shakespeare's plays; 
+and, with a dramatic art I have never known equalled by any 
+public reader.
+
+His later years were passed at Sevenoaks, where he kept an 
+establishment for imbeciles, or weak-minded youths.  I often 
+stayed with him (not as a patient), and a very comfortable 
+and pretty place it was.  Now and then he would call on me in 
+London; and, with a face full of theatrical woe, tell me, 
+with elaborate circumlocution, how the Earl of This, or the 
+Marquis of That, had implored him to take charge of young 
+Lord So-and-So, his son; who, as all the world knew, had - 
+well, had 'no guts in his brains.'  Was there ever such a 
+chance?  Just consider what it must lead to!  Everybody knew 
+- no, nobody knew - the enormous number of idiots there were 
+in noble families.  And, such a case as that of young Lord 
+Dash - though of course his residence at Sevenoaks would be a 
+profound secret, would be patent to the whole peerage; and, 
+my dear sir, a fortune to your humble servant, if - ah! if he 
+could only secure it!'
+
+'But I thought you said you had been implored to take him?'
+
+'I did say so.  I repeat it.  His Lordship's father came to 
+me with tears in his eyes.  "My dear Wigan," were that 
+nobleman's words, "do me this one favour and trust me, you 
+will never regret it!"  But - ' he paused to remove the 
+dramatic tear, 'but, I hardly dare go on.  Yes - yes, I know 
+your kindness' (seizing my hand) 'I know how ready you are to 
+help me' - (I hadn't said a word) - 'but - '
+
+'How much is it this time? and what is it for?'
+
+'For?  I have told you what it is for.  The merest trifle 
+will suffice.  I have the room - a beautiful room, the best 
+aspect in the house.  It is now occupied by young Rumagee 
+Bumagee the great Bombay millionaire's son.  Of course he can 
+be moved.  But a bed - there positively is not a spare bed in 
+the house.  This is all I want - a bed, and perhaps a 
+tuppenny ha'penny strip of carpet, a couple of chairs, a - 
+let me see; if you give me a slip of paper I can make out in 
+a minute what it will come to.'
+
+'Never mind that.  Will a ten-pound note serve your 
+purposes?'
+
+'Dear boy!  Dear boy!  But on one condition, on one condition 
+only, can I accept it - this is a loan, a loan mind! and not 
+a gift.  No, no - it is useless to protest; my pride, my 
+sense of honour, forbids my acceptance upon any other terms.'
+
+A day or two afterwards I would learn from George Bird that 
+he and Miss Alice had accepted an invitation to meet me at 
+Sevenoaks.  Mr. Donovan, the famous phrenologist, was to be 
+of the party; the Rector of Sevenoaks, and one or two local 
+magnates, had also been invited to dine.  We Londoners were 
+to occupy the spare rooms, for this was in the coaching days.
+
+We all knew what we had to expect - a most enjoyable banquet 
+of conviviality.  Young Mrs. Wigan, his second wife, was an 
+admirable housekeeper, and nothing could have been better 
+done.  The turbot and the haunch of venison were the pick of 
+Grove's shop, the champagne was iced to perfection, and there 
+was enough of it, as Mr. Donovan whispered to me, casting his 
+eyes to the ceiling, 'to wash an omnibus, bedad.'  Mr. 
+Donovan, though he never refused Mr. Wigan's hospitality, 
+balanced the account by vilipending his friend's extravagant 
+habits.  While Mr. Wigan, probably giving him full credit for 
+his gratitude, always spoke of him as 'Poor old Paddy 
+Donovan.'
+
+With Alfred Wigan, the eldest son, I was on very friendly 
+terms.  Nothing could be more unlike his father.  His manner 
+in his own house was exactly what it was on the stage.  
+Albany Fonblanque, whose experiences began nearly forty years 
+before mine, and who was not given to waste his praise, told 
+me he considered Alfred Wigan the best 'gentleman' he had 
+ever seen on the stage.  I think this impression was due in a 
+great measure to Wigan's entire absence of affectation, and 
+to his persistent appeal to the 'judicious' but never to the 
+'groundlings.'  Mrs. Alfred Wigan was also a consummate 
+artiste.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII
+
+
+
+THROUGH George Bird I made the acquaintance of the leading 
+surgeons and physicians of the North London Hospital, where I 
+frequently attended the operations of Erichsen, John 
+Marshall, and Sir Henry Thompson, following them afterwards 
+in their clinical rounds.  Amongst the physicians, Professor 
+Sydney Ringer remains one of my oldest friends.  Both surgery 
+and therapeutics interested me deeply.  With regard to the 
+first, curiosity was supplemented by the incidental desire to 
+overcome the natural repugnance we all feel to the mere sight 
+of blood.
+
+Chemistry I studied in the laboratory of a professional 
+friend of Dr. Bird's.  After a while my teacher would leave 
+me to carry out small commissions of a simple character which 
+had been put into his hands, such as the analysis of water, 
+bread, or other food-stuffs.  He himself often had 
+engagements elsewhere, and would leave me in possession of 
+the laboratory, with a small urchin whom he had taught to be 
+useful.  This boy was of the meekest and mildest disposition.  
+Whether his master had frightened him or not I do not know.  
+He always spoke in a whisper, and with downcast eyes.  He 
+handled everything as if it was about to annihilate him, or 
+he it, and looked as if he wouldn't bite - even a tartlet.
+
+One day when I had finished my task, and we were alone, I 
+bethought me of making some laughing gas, and trying the 
+effect of it on the gentle youth.  I offered him a shilling 
+for the experiment, which, however, proved more expensive 
+than I had bargained for.  I filled a bladder with the gas, 
+and putting a bit of broken pipe-stem in its neck for a 
+mouthpiece, gave it to the boy to suck - and suck he did.  In 
+a few seconds his eyes dilated, his face became lividly 
+white, and I had some trouble to tear the intoxicating 
+bladder from his clutches.  The moment I had done so, the 
+true nature of the gutter-snipe exhibited itself.  He began 
+by cutting flip-flaps and turning windmills all round the 
+room; then, before I could stop him, swept an armful of 
+valuable apparatus from the tables, till the whole floor was 
+strewn with wreck and poisonous solutions.  The dismay of the 
+chemist when he returned may be more easily imagined than 
+described.
+
+Some years ago, there was a well-known band of amateur 
+musicians called the 'Wandering Minstrels.'  This band 
+originated in my rooms in Dean's Yard.  Its nucleus was 
+composed of the following members:  Seymour Egerton, 
+afterwards Lord Wilton, Sir Archibald Macdonald my brother-
+in-law, Fred Clay, Bertie Mitford (the present Lord Redesdale 
+- perhaps the finest amateur cornet and trumpet player of the 
+day), and Lord Gerald Fitzgerald.  Our concerts were given in 
+the Hanover Square Rooms, and we played for charities all 
+over the country.
+
+To turn from the musical art to the art - or science is it 
+called? - of self-defence, once so patronised by the highest 
+fashion, there was at this time a famous pugilistic battle - 
+the last of the old kind - fought between the English 
+champion, Tom Sayers, and the American champion, Heenan.  
+Bertie Mitford and I agreed to go and see it.
+
+The Wandering Minstrels had given a concert in the Hanover 
+Square Rooms.  The fight was to take place on the following 
+morning.  When the concert was over, Mitford and I went to 
+some public-house where the 'Ring' had assembled, and where 
+tickets were to be bought, and instructions received.  Fights 
+when gloves were not used, and which, especially in this 
+case, might end fatally, were of course illegal; and every 
+precaution had been taken by the police to prevent it.  A 
+special train was to leave London Bridge Station about 6 A.M.  
+We sat up all night in my room, and had to wait an hour in 
+the train before the men with their backers arrived.  As soon 
+as it was daylight, we saw mounted police galloping on the 
+roads adjacent to the line.  No one knew where the train 
+would pull up.  Ten minutes after it did so, a ring was 
+formed in a meadow close at hand.  The men stripped, and 
+tossed for places.  Heenan won the toss, and with it a 
+considerable advantage.  He was nearly a head taller than 
+Sayers, and the ground not being quite level, he chose the 
+higher side of the ring.  But this was by no means his only 
+'pull.'  Just as the men took their places the sun began to 
+rise.  It was in Heenan's back, and right in the other's 
+face.
+
+Heenan began the attack at once with scornful confidence; and 
+in a few minutes Sayers received a blow on the forehead above 
+his guard which sent him slithering under the ropes; his head 
+and neck, in fact, were outside the ring.  He lay perfectly 
+still, and in my ignorance, I thought he was done for.  Not a 
+bit of it.  He was merely reposing quietly till his seconds 
+put him on his legs.  He came up smiling, but not a jot the 
+worse.  But in the course of another round or two, down he 
+went again.  The fight was going all one way.  The Englishman 
+seemed to be completely at the mercy of the giant.  I was so 
+disgusted that I said to my companion:  'Come along, Bertie, 
+the game's up.  Sayers is good for nothing.'
+
+But now the luck changed.  The bull-dog tenacity and splendid 
+condition of Sayers were proof against these violent shocks.  
+The sun was out of his eyes, and there was not a mark of a 
+blow either on his face or his body.  His temper, his 
+presence of mind, his defence, and the rapidity of his 
+movements, were perfect.  The opening he had watched for came 
+at last.  He sprang off his legs, and with his whole weight 
+at close quarters, struck Heenan's cheek just under the eye.  
+It was like the kick of a cart-horse.  The shouts might have 
+been heard half-a-mile off.  Up till now, the betting called 
+after each round had come to 'ten to one on Heenan'; it fell 
+at once to evens.
+
+Heenan was completely staggered.  He stood for a minute as if 
+he did not know where he was or what had happened.  And then, 
+an unprecedented thing occurred.  While he thus stood, Sayers 
+put both hands behind his back, and coolly walked up to his 
+foe to inspect the damage he had inflicted.  I had hold of 
+the ropes in Heenan's corner, consequently could not see his 
+face without leaning over them.  When I did so, and before 
+time was called, one eye was completely closed.  What kind of 
+generosity prevented Sayers from closing the other during the 
+pause, is difficult to conjecture.  But his forbearance did 
+not make much difference.  Heenan became more fierce, Sayers 
+more daring.  The same tactics were repeated; and now, no 
+longer to the astonishment of the crowd, the same success 
+rewarded them.  Another sledge-hammer blow from the 
+Englishman closed the remaining eye.  The difference in the 
+condition of the two men must have been enormous, for in five 
+minutes Heenan was completely sightless.
+
+Sayers, however, had not escaped scot-free.  In countering 
+the last attack, Heenan had broken one of the bones of 
+Sayers' right arm.  Still the fight went on.  It was now a 
+brutal scene.  The blind man could not defend himself from 
+the other's terrible punishment.  His whole face was so 
+swollen and distorted, that not a feature was recognisable.  
+But he evidently had his design.  Each time Sayers struck him 
+and ducked, Heenan made a swoop with his long arms, and at 
+last he caught his enemy.  With gigantic force he got Sayers' 
+head down, and heedless of his captive's pounding, backed 
+step by step to the ring.  When there, he forced Sayers' neck 
+on to the rope, and, with all his weight, leant upon the 
+Englishman's shoulders.  In a few moments the face of the 
+strangled man was black, his tongue was forced out of his 
+mouth, and his eyes from their sockets.  His arms fell 
+powerless, and in a second or two more he would have been a 
+corpse.  With a wild yell the crowd rushed to the rescue.  
+Warning cries of 'The police!  The police!' mingled with the 
+shouts.  The ropes were cut, and a general scamper for the 
+waiting train ended this last of the greatest prize-fights.
+
+We two took it easily, and as the mob were scuttling away 
+from the police, we saw Sayers with his backers, who were 
+helping him to dress.  His arm seemed to hurt him a little, 
+but otherwise, for all the damage he had received, he might 
+have been playing at football or lawn tennis.
+
+We were quietly getting into a first-class carriage, when I 
+was seized by the shoulder and roughly spun out of the way.  
+Turning to resent the rudeness, I found myself face to face 
+with Heenan.  One of his seconds had pushed me on one side to 
+let the gladiator get in.  So completely blind was he, that 
+the friend had to place his foot upon the step.  And yet 
+neither man had won the fight.
+
+We still think - profess to think - the barbarism of the 
+'Iliad' the highest flight of epic poetry; if Homer had sung 
+this great battle, how glorious we should have thought it!  
+Beyond a doubt, man 'yet partially retains the 
+characteristics that adapted him to an antecedent state.'
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII
+
+
+
+THROUGH the Cayley family, I became very intimate with their 
+near relatives the Worsleys of Hovingham, near York.  
+Hovingham has now become known to the musical world through 
+its festivals, annually held at the Hall under the patronage 
+of its late owner, Sir William Worsley.  It was in his 
+father's time that this fine place, with its delightful 
+family, was for many years a home to me.  Here I met the 
+Alisons, and at the kind invitation of Sir Archibald, paid 
+the great historian a visit at Possil, his seat in Scotland.  
+As men who had achieved scientific or literary distinction 
+inspired me with far greater awe than those of the highest 
+rank - of whom from my childhood I had seen abundance - 
+Alison's celebrity, his courteous manner, his oracular 
+speech, his voluminous works, and his voluminous dimensions, 
+filled me with too much diffidence and respect to admit of 
+any freedom of approach.  One listened to him, as he held 
+forth of an evening when surrounded by his family, with 
+reverential silence.  He had a strong Scotch accent; and, if 
+a wee bit prosy at times, it was sententious and polished 
+prose that he talked; he talked invariably like a book.  His 
+family were devoted to him; and I felt that no one who knew 
+him could help liking him.
+
+When Thackeray was giving readings from 'The Four Georges,' I 
+dined with Lady Grey and Landseer, and we three went to hear 
+him.  I had heard Dickens read 'The Trial of Bardell against 
+Pickwick,' and it was curious to compare the style of the two 
+great novelists.  With Thackeray, there was an entire absence 
+of either tone or colour.  Of course the historical nature of 
+his subject precluded the dramatic suggestion to be looked 
+for in the Pickwick trial, thus rendering comparison 
+inapposite.  Nevertheless one was bound to contrast them.  
+Thackeray's features were impassive, and his voice knew no 
+inflection.  But his elocution in other respects was perfect, 
+admirably distinct and impressive from its complete 
+obliteration of the reader.
+
+The selection was from the reign of George the Third; and no 
+part of it was more attentively listened to than his passing 
+allusion to himself.  'I came,' he says, 'from India as a 
+child, and our ship touched at an island on the way home, 
+where my black servant took me a long walk over rocks and 
+hills until we reached a garden, where we saw a man walking.  
+"That is he," said the black man, "that is Bonaparte!  He 
+eats three sheep every day, and all the little children he 
+can lay hands on!"'  One went to hear Thackeray, to see 
+Thackeray; and the child and the black man and the ogre were 
+there on the stage before one.  But so well did the lecturer 
+perform his part, that ten minutes later one had forgotten 
+him, and saw only George Selwyn and his friend Horace 
+Walpole, and Horace's friend, Miss Berry - whom by the way I 
+too knew and remember.  One saw the 'poor society ghastly in 
+its pleasures, its loves, its revelries,' and the redeeming 
+vision of 'her father's darling, the Princess Amelia, 
+pathetic for her beauty, her sweetness, her early death, and 
+for the extreme passionate tenderness with which her father 
+loved her.'  The story told, as Thackeray told it, was as 
+delightful to listen to as to read.
+
+Not so with Dickens.  He disappointed me.  He made no attempt 
+to represent the different characters by varied utterance; 
+but whenever something unusually comic was said, or about to 
+be said, he had a habit of turning his eyes up to the 
+ceiling; so that, knowing what was coming, one nervously 
+anticipated the upcast look, and for the moment lost the 
+illusion.  In both entertainments, the reader was naturally 
+the central point of interest.  But in the case of Dickens, 
+when curiosity was satisfied, he alone possessed one; 
+Pickwick and Mrs. Bardell were put out of court.
+
+Was it not Charles Lamb, or was it Hazlitt, that could not 
+bear to see Shakespeare upon the stage?  I agree with him.  I 
+have never seen a Falstaff that did not make me miserable.  
+He is even more impossible to impersonate than Hamlet.  A 
+player will spoil you the character of Hamlet, but he cannot 
+spoil his thoughts.  Depend upon it, we are fortunate not to 
+have seen Shakespeare in his ghost of Royal Denmark.
+
+In 1861 I married Lady Katharine Egerton, second daughter of 
+Lord Wilton, and we took up our abode in Warwick Square, 
+which, by the way, I had seen a few years before as a turnip 
+field.  My wife was an accomplished pianiste, so we had a 
+great deal of music, and saw much of the artist world.  I may 
+mention one artistic dinner amongst our early efforts at 
+housekeeping, which nearly ended with a catastrophe.
+
+Millais and Dicky Doyle were of the party; music was 
+represented by Joachim, Piatti, and Halle.  The late Lord and 
+Lady de Ros were also of the number.  Lady de Ros, who was a 
+daughter of the Duke of Richmond, had danced at the ball 
+given by her father at Brussels the night before Waterloo.  
+As Lord de Ros was then Governor of the Tower, it will be 
+understood that he was a veteran of some standing.  The great 
+musical trio were enchanting all ears with their faultless 
+performance, when the sweet and soul-stirring notes of the 
+Adagio were suddenly interrupted by a loud crash and a 
+shriek.  Old Lord de Ros was listening to the music on a sofa 
+at the further end of the room.  Over his head was a large 
+picture in a heavy frame.  What vibrations, what careless 
+hanging, what mischievous Ate or Discord was at the bottom of 
+it, who knows?  Down came the picture on the top of the poor 
+old General's head, and knocked him senseless on the floor.  
+He had to be carried upstairs and laid upon a bed.  Happily 
+he recovered without serious injury.  There were many 
+exclamations of regret, but the only one I remember was 
+Millais'.  All he said was:  'And it is a good picture too.'
+
+Sir Arthur Sullivan was one of our musical favourites.  My 
+wife had known him as a chorister boy in the Chapel Royal; 
+and to the end of his days we were on terms of the closest 
+intimacy and friendship.  Through him we made the 
+acquaintance of the Scott Russells.  Mr. Scott Russell was 
+the builder of the Crystal Palace.  He had a delightful 
+residence at Sydenham, the grounds of which adjoined those of 
+the Crystal Palace, and were beautifully laid out by his 
+friend Sir Joseph Paxton.  One of the daughters, Miss Rachel 
+Russell, was a pupil of Arthur Sullivan's.  She had great 
+musical talent, she was remarkably handsome, exceedingly 
+clever and well-informed, and altogether exceptionally 
+fascinating.  Quite apart from Sullivan's genius, he was in 
+every way a charming fellow.  The teacher fell in love with 
+the pupil; and, as naturally, his love was returned.  
+Sullivan was but a youth, a poor and struggling music-master.  
+And, very naturally again, Mrs. Scott Russell, who could not 
+be expected to know what magic baton the young maestro 
+carried in his knapsack, thought her brilliant daughter might 
+do better.  The music lessons were put a stop to, and 
+correspondence between the lovers was prohibited.
+
+Once a week or so, either the young lady or the young 
+gentleman would, quite unexpectedly, pay us a visit about tea 
+or luncheon time.  And, by the strangest coincidence, the 
+other would be sure to drop in while the one was there.  This 
+went on for a year or two.  But destiny forbade the banns.  
+In spite of the large fortune acquired by Mr. Scott Russell - 
+he was the builder of the 'Great Eastern' as well as the 
+Crystal Palace - ill-advised or unsuccessful ventures robbed 
+him of his well-earned wealth.  His beautiful place at 
+Sydenham had to be sold; and the marriage of Miss Rachel with 
+young Arthur Sullivan was abandoned.  She ultimately married 
+an Indian official.
+
+Her story may here be told to the end.  Some years later she 
+returned to England to bring her two children home for their 
+education, going back to India without them, as Indian 
+mothers have to do.  The day before she sailed, she called to 
+take leave of us in London.  She was terribly depressed, but 
+fought bravely with her trial.  She never broke down, but 
+shunted the subject, talking and laughing with flashes of her 
+old vivacity, about music, books, friends, and 'dear old 
+dirty London,' as she called it.  When she left, I opened the 
+street-door for her, and with both her hands in mine, bade 
+her 'Farewell.'  Then the tears fell, and her parting words 
+were:  'I am leaving England never to see it again.'  She was 
+seized with cholera the night she reached Bombay, and died 
+the following day.
+
+To return to her father, the eminent engineer.  He was 
+distinctly a man of genius, and what is called 'a character.'  
+He was always in the clouds - not in the vapour of his 
+engine-rooms, nor busy inventing machines for extracting 
+sunbeams from cucumbers, but musing on metaphysical problems 
+and abstract speculations about the universe generally.  In 
+other respects a perfectly simple-minded man.
+
+It was in his palmy days that he invited me to run down to 
+Sheerness with him, and go over the 'Great Eastern' before 
+she left with the Atlantic cable.  This was in 1865.  The 
+largest ship in the world, and the first Atlantic cable, were 
+both objects of the greatest interest.  The builder did not 
+know the captain - Anderson - nor did the captain know the 
+builder.  But clearly, each would be glad to meet the other.
+
+As the leviathan was to leave in a couple of days, everything 
+on board her was in the wildest confusion.  Russell could not 
+find anyone who could find the Captain; so he began poking 
+about with me, till we accidentally stumbled on the 
+Commander.  He merely said that he was come to take a parting 
+glance at his 'child,' which did not seem of much concern to 
+the over-busy captain.  He never mentioned his own name, but 
+introduced me as 'my friend Captain Cole.'  Now, in those 
+days, Captain Cole was well known as a distinguished naval 
+officer.  To Russell's absent and engineering mind, 'Coke' 
+had suggested 'Cole,' and 'Captain' was inseparable from the 
+latter.  It was a name to conjure with.  Captain Anderson 
+took off his cap, shook me warmly by the hand, expressed his 
+pleasure at making my acquaintance, and hoped I, and my 
+friend Mr. - ahem - would come into his cabin and have 
+luncheon, and then allow him to show me over his ship.  Scott 
+Russell was far too deeply absorbed in his surroundings to 
+note any peculiarity in this neglect of himself and marked 
+respect for 'Captain Cole.'  We made the round of the decks, 
+then explored the engine room.  Here the designer found 
+himself in an earthly paradise.  He button-holed the engineer 
+and inquired into every crank, and piston, and valve, and 
+every bolt, as it seemed to me, till the officer in charge 
+unconsciously began to ask opinions instead of offering 
+explanations.  By degrees the captain was equally astonished 
+at the visitor's knowledge, and when at last my friend asked 
+what had become of some fixture or other which he missed, 
+Captain Anderson turned to him and exclaimed, 'Why, you seem 
+to know more about the ship than I do.'
+
+'Well, so I ought,' says my friend, never for a moment 
+supposing that Anderson was in ignorance of his identity.
+
+'Indeed!  Who then are you, pray?'
+
+'Who?  Why, Scott Russell of course, the builder!'
+
+There was a hearty laugh over it all.  I managed to spare the 
+captain's feelings by preserving my incognito, and so ended a 
+pleasant day.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV
+
+
+
+IN November, 1862, my wife and I received an invitation to 
+spend a week at Compiegne with their Majesties the Emperor 
+and Empress of the French.  This was due to the circumstance 
+that my wife's father, Lord Wilton, as Commodore of the Royal 
+Yacht Squadron, had entertained the Emperor during his visit 
+to Cowes.
+
+We found an express train with the imperial carriages 
+awaiting the arrival of the English guests at the station du 
+Nord.  The only other English besides ourselves were Lord and 
+Lady Winchilsea with Lady Florence Paget, and Lord and Lady 
+Castlerosse, now Lord and Lady Kenmare.  These, however, had 
+preceded us, so that with the exception of M. Drouyn de 
+Lhuys, we had the saloon carriage to ourselves.
+
+The party was a very large one, including the Walewskis, the 
+Persignys, the Metternichs - he, the Austrian Ambassador - 
+Prince Henri VII. of Reuss, Prussian Ambassador, the Prince 
+de la Moskowa, son of Marshal Ney, and the Labedoyeres, 
+amongst the historical names.  Amongst those of art and 
+literature, of whom there were many, the only one whom I made 
+the acquaintance of was Octave Feuillet.  I happened to have 
+brought his 'Comedies et Proverbes' and another of his books 
+with me, never expecting to meet him; this so pleased him 
+that we became allies.  I was surprised to find that he could 
+not even read English, which I begged him to learn for the 
+sake of Shakespeare alone.
+
+We did not see their Majesties till dinner-time.  When the 
+guests were assembled, the women and the men were arranged 
+separately on opposite sides of the room.  The Emperor and 
+Empress then entered, each respectively welcoming those of 
+their own sex, shaking hands and saying some conventional 
+word in passing.  Me, he asked whether I had brought my guns, 
+and hoped we should have a good week's sport.  To each one a 
+word.  Every night during the week we sat down over a hundred 
+to dinner.  The Army was largely represented.  For the first 
+time I tasted here the national frog, which is neither fish 
+nor flesh.  The wine was, of course, supreme; but after every 
+dish a different wine was handed round.  The evening 
+entertainments were varied.  There was the theatre in the 
+Palace, and some of the best of the Paris artistes were 
+requisitioned for the occasion.  With them came Dejazet, then 
+nearly seventy, who had played before Buonaparte.
+
+Almost every night there was dancing.  Sometimes the Emperor 
+would walk through a quadrille, but as a rule he would retire 
+with one of his ministers, though only to a smaller boudoir 
+at the end of the suite, where a couple of whist-tables were 
+ready for the more sedate of the party.  Here one evening I 
+found Prince Metternich showing his Majesty a chess problem, 
+of which he was the proud inventor.  The Emperor asked 
+whether I was fond of chess.  I was very fond of chess, was 
+one of the regular HABITUES of St. George's Chess Club, and 
+had made a study of the game for years.  The Prince 
+challenged me to solve his problem in four moves.  It was not 
+a very profound one.  I had the hardihood to discover that 
+three, rather obvious moves, were sufficient.  But as I was 
+not Gil Blas, and the Prince was not the Archbishop of 
+Grenada, it did not much matter.  Like the famous prelate, 
+his Excellency proffered his felicitations, and doubtless 
+also wished me 'un peu plus de gout' with the addition of 'un 
+peu moins de perspicacite.'
+
+One of the evening performances was an exhibition of POSES-
+PLASTIQUES, the subjects being chosen from celebrated 
+pictures in the Louvre.  Theatrical costumiers, under the 
+command of a noted painter, were brought from Paris.  The 
+ladies of the court were carefully rehearsed, and the whole 
+thing was very perfectly and very beautifully done.  All the 
+English ladies were assigned parts.  But, as nearly all these 
+depended less upon the beauties of drapery than upon those of 
+nature, the English ladies were more than a little staggered 
+by the demands of the painter and of the - UNdressers.  To 
+the young and handsome Lady Castlerosse, then just married, 
+was allotted the figure of Diana.  But when informed that, in 
+accordance with the original, the drapery of one leg would 
+have to be looped up above the knee, her ladyship used very 
+firm language; and, though of course perfectly ladylike, 
+would, rendered into masculine terms, have signified that she 
+would 'see the painter d-d first.'  The celebrated 'Cruche 
+cassee' of Greuze, was represented by the reigning beauty, 
+the Marquise de Gallifet, with complete fidelity and success.
+
+There was one stage of the performance which neither I nor 
+Lord Castlerosse, both of us newly married, at all 
+appreciated.  This was the privileges of the Green-room, or 
+rather of the dressing-rooms.  The exhibition was given in 
+the ball-room.  On one side of this, until the night of the 
+performances, an enclosure was boarded off.  Within it, were 
+compartments in which the ladies dressed and - undressed.  At 
+this operation, as we young husbands discovered, certain 
+young gentlemen of the court were permitted to assist - I 
+think I am not mistaken in saying that his Majesty was of the 
+number.  What kind of assistance was offered or accepted, 
+Castlerosse and I, being on the wrong side of the boarding, 
+were not in a position to know.
+
+There was a door in the boarding, over which one expected to 
+see, 'No admittance except on business,' or perhaps, 'on 
+pleasure.'  At this door I rapped, and rapped again 
+impatiently.  It was opened, only as wide as her face, by the 
+empress.
+
+'What do you want, sir?' was the angry demand.
+
+'To see my wife, madame,' was the submissive reply.
+
+'You can't see her; she is rehearsing.'
+
+'But, madame, other gentlemen - '
+
+'Ah!  Mais, c'est un enfantillage!  Allez-vous-en.'
+
+And the door was slammed in my face.
+
+'Well,' thought I, 'the right woman is in the right place 
+there, at all events.'
+
+Another little incident at the performance itself also 
+recalled the days and manners of the court of Louis XV.  
+Between each tableau, which was lighted solely from the 
+raised stage, the lights were put out, and the whole room 
+left in complete darkness.  Whenever this happened, the 
+sounds of immoderate kissing broke out in all directions, 
+accompanied by little cries of resistance and protestation.  
+Until then, I had always been under the impression that 
+humour of this kind was confined to the servants' hall.  One 
+could not help thinking of another court, where things were 
+managed differently.
+
+But the truth is, these trivial episodes were symptomatic of 
+a pervading tone.  A no inconsiderable portion of the ladies 
+seemed to an outsider to have been invited for the sake of 
+their personal charms.  After what has just been related, one 
+could not help fancying that there were some amongst them who 
+had availed themselves of the privilege which, according to 
+Tacitus, was claimed by Vistilia before the AEdiles.  So far, 
+however, from any of these noble ladies being banished to the 
+Isle of Seriphos, they seemed as much attached to the court 
+as the court to them; and whatever the Roman Emperor might 
+have done, the Emperor of the French was all that was most 
+indulgent.
+
+There were two days' shooting, one day's stag hunting, an 
+expedition to Pierrefonds, and a couple of days spent in 
+riding and skating.  The shooting was very much after the 
+fashion of that already described at Prince Esterhazy's, 
+though of a much more Imperial character.  As in Hungary, the 
+game had been driven into coverts cut down to the height of 
+the waist, with paths thirty to forty yards apart, for the 
+guns.
+
+The weather was cold, with snow on the ground, but it was a 
+beautifully sunny day.  This was the party:  the two 
+ambassadors, the Prince de la Moskowa, Persigny, Walewski - 
+Bonaparte's natural son, and the image of his father - the 
+Marquis de Toulongeon, Master of the Horse, and we three 
+Englishmen.  We met punctually at eleven in the grand saloon.  
+Here the Emperor joined us, with his cigarette in his mouth, 
+shook hands with each, and bade us take our places in the 
+char-a-bancs.  Four splendid Normandy greys, with postilions 
+in the picturesque old costume, glazed hats and huge jack-
+boots, took us through the forest at full gallop, and in half 
+an hour we were at the covert side.  The Emperor was very 
+cheery all the way.  He cautioned me not to shoot back for 
+the beaters' sakes, and asked me how many guns I had brought.
+
+'Two only? that's not enough, I will lend you some of mine.'
+
+Arrived at our beat - 'Tire de Royallieu,' we found a 
+squadron of dismounted cavalry drawn up in line, ready to 
+commence operations.  They were in stable dress, with canvas 
+trousers and spurs to their boots.  Several officers were 
+galloping about giving orders, the whole being under the 
+command of a mounted chief in green uniform and cocked hat!  
+The place of each shooter had been settled by M. de 
+Toulongeon.  I, being the only Nobody of the lot, was put on 
+the extreme outside.  The Emperor was in the middle; and 
+although, as I noticed, he made some beautiful shots at 
+rocketers, he was engaged much of the time in talking to 
+ministers who walked behind, or beside, him.
+
+Our servants were already in the places allotted to their 
+masters, and each of us had two keepers to carry spare guns 
+(the Emperor had not forgotten to send me two of his, which I 
+could not shoot with, and never used), and a sergeant with a 
+large card to prick off each head of game, not as it fell to 
+the gun, but only after it was picked up.  This conscientious 
+scoring amused me greatly; for, as it chanced, my bag was a 
+heavy one, and the Emperor's marker sent constant messages to 
+mine to compare notes, and so arrange, as it transpired, to 
+keep His Majesty at the top of the score.
+
+About half-past one we reached a clearing where DEJEUNER was 
+awaiting us.  The scene presented was striking.  Around a 
+tent in which every delicacy was spread out were numbers of 
+little charcoal fires, where a still greater number of cooks 
+in white caps and jackets were preparing dainty dishes; while 
+the Imperial footmen bustling about brightened the picture 
+with colour.  After coffee all the cards were brought to his 
+Majesty.  When he had scanned them, he said to me across the 
+table:
+
+'I congratulate you, Mr. Coke, upon having killed the most.'
+
+My answer was, 'After you, Sir.'
+
+'Yes,' said he, giving his moustache an upward twist, but 
+with perfect gravity, 'I always kill the most.'
+
+Just then the Empress and the whole court drove up.  
+Presently she came into the tent and, addressing her husband, 
+exclaimed:
+
+'Avez-vous bientot fini, vous autres?  Ah! que vous etes des 
+gourmands!'
+
+Till the finish, she and the rest walked with the shooters.  
+By four it was over.  The total score was 1,387 head.  Mine 
+was 182, which included thirty-six partridges, two woodcocks, 
+and four roedeer.  This, in three and a half hours' shooting, 
+with two muzzle-loaders (breech-loaders were not then in 
+use), was an unusually good bag.
+
+Fashion is capricious.  When lunch was over I went to one of 
+the charcoal fires, quite in the background, to light a 
+cigarette.  An aide-de-camp immediately pounced upon me, with 
+the information that this was not permitted in company with 
+the Empress.  It reminded one at once of the ejaculation at 
+Oliver Twist's bedside, 'Ladies is present, Mr. Giles.'  
+After the shooting, I was told to go to tea with the Empress 
+- a terrible ordeal, for one had to face the entire feminine 
+force of the palace, nearly every one of whom, from the 
+highest to the lowest, was provided with her own CAVALIERE 
+SERVENTE.
+
+The following night, when we assembled for dinner, I received 
+orders to sit next to the Empress.  This was still more 
+embarrassing.  It is true, one does not speak to a sovereign 
+unless one is spoken to; but still one is permitted to make 
+the initiative easy.  I found that I was expected to take my 
+share of the task; and by a happy inspiration, introduced the 
+subject of the Prince Imperial, then a child of eight years 
+old.  The MONDAINE Empress was at once merged in the adoring 
+mother; her whole soul was wrapped up in the boy.  It was 
+easy enough then to speculate on his career, at least so far 
+as the building of castles in the air for fantasies to roam 
+in.  What a future he had before him! - to consolidate the 
+Empire! to perfect the great achievement of his father, and 
+render permanent the foundation of the Napoleonic dynasty! to 
+build a superstructure as transcendent for the glories of 
+Peace, as those of his immortal ancestor had been for War!
+
+It was not difficult to play the game with such court cards 
+in one's hand.  Nor was it easy to coin these PHRASES DE 
+SUCRECANDI without sober and earnest reflections on the 
+import of their contents.  What, indeed, might or might not 
+be the consequences to millions, of the wise or unwise or 
+evil development of the life of that bright and handsome 
+little fellow, now trotting around the dessert table, with 
+the long curls tumbling over his velvet jacket, and the 
+flowers in his hand for some pretty lady who was privileged 
+to kiss him?  Who could foretell the cruel doom - heedless of 
+such favours and such splendid promises - that awaited the 
+pretty child?  Who could hear the brave young soldier's last 
+shrieks of solitary agony?  Who could see the forsaken body 
+slashed with knives and assegais?  Ah! who could dream of 
+that fond mother's heart, when the end came, which eclipsed 
+even the disasters of a nation!
+
+One by-day, when my wife and I were riding with the Emperor 
+through the forest of Compiegne, a rough-looking man in a 
+blouse, with a red comforter round his neck, sprang out from 
+behind a tree; and before he could be stopped, seized the 
+Emperor's bridle.  In an instant the Emperor struck his hand 
+with a heavy hunting stock; and being free, touched his horse 
+with the spur and cantered on.  I took particular notice of 
+his features and his demeanour, from the very first moment of 
+the surprise.  Nothing happened but what I have described.  
+The man seemed fierce and reckless.  The Emperor showed not 
+the faintest signs of discomposure.  All he said was, turning 
+to my wife, 'Comme il avait l'air sournois, cet homme!' and 
+resumed the conversation at the point where it was 
+interrupted.
+
+Before we had gone a hundred yards I looked back to see what 
+had become of the offender.  He was in the hands of two GENS 
+D'ARMES, who had been invisible till then.
+
+'Poor devil,' thought I, 'this spells dungeon for you.'
+
+Now, with Kinglake's acrimonious charge of the Emperor's 
+personal cowardice running in my head, I felt that this 
+exhibition of SANG FROID, when taken completely unawares, 
+went far to refute the imputation.  What happened later in 
+the day strongly confirmed this opinion.
+
+After dark, about six o'clock, I took a stroll by myself 
+through the town of Compiegne.  Coming home, when crossing 
+the bridge below the Palace, I met the Emperor arm-in-arm 
+with Walewski.  Not ten minutes afterwards, whom should I 
+stumble upon but the ruffian who had seized the Emperor's 
+bridle?  The same red comforter was round his neck, the same 
+wild look was in his face.  I turned after he had passed, and 
+at the same moment he turned to look at me.
+
+Would this man have been at large but for the Emperor's 
+orders?  Assuredly not.  For, supposing he were crazy, who 
+could have answered for his deeds?  Most likely he was 
+shadowed; and to a certainty the Emperor would be so.  Still, 
+what could save the latter from a pistol-shot?  Yet, here he 
+was, sauntering about the badly lighted streets of a town 
+where his kenspeckle figure was familiar to every inhabitant.  
+Call this fatalism if you will; but these were not the acts 
+of a coward.  I told this story to a friend who was well 
+'posted' in the club gossip of the day.  He laughed.
+
+'Don't you know the meaning of Kinglake's spite against the 
+Emperor?' said he.  'CHERCHEZ LA FEMME.  Both of them were in 
+love with Mrs. - '
+
+This is the way we write our histories.
+
+Wishing to explore the grounds about the palace before anyone 
+was astir, I went out one morning about half-past eight.  
+Seeing what I took to be a mausoleum, I walked up to it, 
+found the door opened, and peeped in.  It turned out to be a 
+museum of Roman antiquities, and the Emperor was inside, 
+arranging them.  I immediately withdrew, but he called to me 
+to come in.
+
+He was at this time busy with his Life of Caesar; and, in his 
+enthusiasm, seemed pleased to have a listener to his 
+instructive explanations; he even encouraged the curiosity 
+which the valuable collection and his own remarks could not 
+fail to awaken.
+
+Not long ago, I saw some correspondence in the Times' and 
+other papers about what Heine calls 'Das kleine 
+welthistorische Hutchen,' which the whole of Europe knew so 
+well, to its cost.  Some six or seven of the Buonaparte hats, 
+so it appears, are still in existence.  But I noticed, that 
+though all were located, no mention was made of the one in 
+the Luxembourg.
+
+When we left Compiegne for Paris we were magnificently 
+furnished with orders for royal boxes at theatres, and for 
+admission to places of interest not open to the public.  Thus 
+provided, we had access to many objects of historical 
+interest and of art - amongst the former, the relics of the 
+great conqueror.  In one glass case, under lock and key, was 
+the 'world-historical little hat.'  The official who 
+accompanied us, having stated that we were the Emperor's 
+guests, requested the keeper to take it out and show it to 
+us.  I hope no Frenchman will know it, but, I put the hat 
+upon my head.  In one sense it was a 'little' hat - that is 
+to say, it fitted a man with a moderate sized skull - but the 
+flaps were much larger than pictures would lead one to think, 
+and such was the weight that I am sure it would give any 
+ordinary man accustomed to our head-gear a still neck to wear 
+it for an hour.  What has become of this hat if it is not 
+still in the Luxembourg?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV
+
+
+
+SOME few years later, while travelling with my family in 
+Switzerland, we happened to be staying at Baveno on Lago 
+Maggiore at the same time, and in the same hotel, as the 
+Crown Prince and Princess of Germany.  Their Imperial 
+Highnesses occupied a suite of apartments on the first floor.  
+Our rooms were immediately above them.  As my wife was known 
+to the Princess, occasional greetings passed from balcony to 
+balcony.
+
+One evening while watching two lads rowing from the shore in 
+the direction of Isola Bella, I was aroused from my 
+contemplation of a gathering storm by angry vociferations 
+beneath me.  These were addressed to the youths in the boat.  
+The anxious father had noted the coming tempest; and, with 
+hands to his mouth, was shouting orders to the young 
+gentlemen to return.  Loud and angry as cracked the thunder, 
+the imperial voice o'ertopped it.  Commands succeeded 
+admonitions, and as the only effect on the rowers was obvious 
+recalcitrancy, oaths succeeded both:  all in those throat-
+clearing tones to which the German language so consonantly 
+lends itself.  In a few minutes the boat was immersed in the 
+down-pour which concealed it.
+
+The elder of the two oarsmen was no other than the future 
+firebrand peacemaker, Miching Mallecho, our fierce little 
+Tartarin de Berlin.  One wondered how he, who would not be 
+ruled, would come in turn to rule?  That question is a 
+burning one; and may yet set the world in flames to solve it.
+
+A comic little incident happened here to my own children.  
+There was but one bathing-machine.  This, the two - a 
+schoolboy and his sister - used in the early morning.  Being 
+rather late one day, they found it engaged; and growing 
+impatient the boy banged at the door of the machine, with a 
+shout in schoolboy's vernacular:  'Come, hurry up; we want to 
+dip.'  Much to the surprise of the guilty pair, an answer, 
+also in the best of English, came from the inside:  'Go away, 
+you naughty boy.'  The occupant was the Imperial Princess.  
+Needless to say the children bolted with a mingled sense of 
+mischief and alarm.
+
+About this time I joined a society for the relief of 
+distress, of which Bromley Davenport was the nominal leader.  
+The 'managing director,' so to speak, was Dr. Gilbert, father 
+of Mr. W. S. Gilbert.  To him I went for instructions.  I 
+told him I wanted to see the worst.  He accordingly sent me 
+to Bethnal Green.  For two winters and part of a third I 
+visited this district twice a week regularly.  What I saw in 
+the course of those two years was matter for a thoughtful - 
+ay, or a thoughtless - man to think of for the rest of his 
+days.
+
+My system was to call first upon the clergyman of the parish, 
+and obtain from him a guide to the severest cases of 
+destitution.  The guide would be a Scripture reader, and, as 
+far as I remember, always a woman.  I do not know whether the 
+labours of these good creatures were gratuitous - they 
+themselves were certainly poor, yet singularly earnest and 
+sympathetic.  The society supplied tickets for coal, 
+blankets, and food.  Needless to say, had these supplies been 
+a thousand-fold as great, they would have done as little 
+permanent good as those at my command.
+
+In Bethnal Green the principal industry is, or was, silk-
+weaving by hand looms.  Nearly all the houses were ancient 
+and dilapidated.  A weaver and his family would occupy part 
+of a flat, consisting of two rooms perhaps, one of which 
+would contain his loom.  The room might be about seven feet 
+high, nearly dark, lighted only by a lattice window, half of 
+the panes of which would be replaced by dirty rags or old 
+newspaper.  As the loom was placed against the window the 
+light was practically excluded.  The foulness of the air and 
+filth which this entailed may be too easily imagined.  A 
+couple of cases, taken almost at random, will sample scores 
+as bad.
+
+It is one of the darkest days of December.  The Thames is 
+nearly frozen at Waterloo Bridge.  On the second floor of an 
+old house in - Lane, in an unusually spacious room (or does 
+it only look spacious because there is nothing in it save 
+four human beings?) are a father, a mother, and a grown-up 
+son and daughter.  They scowl at the visitor as the Scripture 
+reader opens the door.  What is the meaning of the intrusion?  
+Is he too come with a Bible instead of bread?  The four are 
+seated side by side on the floor, leaning against the wall, 
+waiting for - death.  Bedsteads, chairs, table, and looms 
+have been burnt this week or more for fuel.  The grate is 
+empty now, and lets the freezing draught blow down the 
+chimney.  The temporary relief is accepted, but not with 
+thanks.  These four stubbornly prefer death to the work-
+house.
+
+One other case.  It is the same hard winter.  The scene:  a 
+small garret in the roof, a low slanting little skylight, now 
+covered six inches deep in snow.  No fireplace here, no 
+ventilation, so put your scented cambric to your nose, my 
+noble Dives.  The only furniture a scanty armful of - what 
+shall we call it?  It was straw once.  A starving woman and a 
+baby are lying on it, notwithstanding.  The baby surely will 
+not be there to-morrow.  It has a very bad cold - and the 
+mucus, and the - pah!  The woman in a few rags - just a few - 
+is gnawing a raw carrot.  The picture is complete.  There's 
+nothing more to paint.  The rest - the whole indeed, that is 
+the consciousness of it - was, and remains, with the Unseen.
+
+You will say, 'Such things cannot be'; you will say, 'There 
+are relieving officers, whose duty, etc., etc.'  May be.  I 
+am only telling you what I myself have seen.  There is more 
+goes on in big cities than even relieving officers can cope 
+with.  And who shall grapple with the causes?  That's the 
+point.
+
+Here is something else that I have seen.  I have seen a 
+family of six in one room.  Of these, four were brothers and 
+sisters, all within, none over, their teens.  There were 
+three beds between the six.  When I came upon them they were 
+out of work, - the young ones in bed to keep warm.  I took 
+them for very young married couples.  It was the Scripture 
+reader who undeceived me.  This is not the exception to the 
+rule, look you, but the rule itself.  How will you deal with 
+it?  It is with Nature, immoral Nature and her heedless 
+instincts that you have to deal.  With what kind of fork will 
+you expel her?  It is with Nature's wretched children, the 
+BETES HUMAINES,
+
+
+Quos venerem incertam rapientes more ferarum,
+
+
+that your account lies.  Will they cease to listen to her 
+maddening whispers:  'Unissez-vous, multipliez, il n'est 
+d'autre loi, d'autre but, que l'amour?'  What care they for 
+her aside - 'Et durez apres, si vous le pouvez; cela ne me 
+regarde plus'?  It doesn't regard them either.
+
+The infallible panacea, so the 'Progressive' tell us, is 
+education - lessons on the piano, perhaps?  Doctor Malthus 
+would be more to the purpose; but how shall we administer his 
+prescriptions?  One thing we might try to teach to advantage, 
+and that is the elementary principles of hygiene.  I am heart 
+and soul with the Progressive as to the ultimate remedial 
+powers of education.  Moral advancement depends absolutely on 
+the humanising influences of intellectual advancement.  The 
+foreseeing of consequences is a question of intelligence.  
+And the appreciation of consequences which follow is the 
+basis of morality.  But we must not begin at the wrong end.  
+The true foundation and condition of intellectual and moral 
+progress postulates material and physical improvement.  The 
+growth of artificial wants is as much the cause as the effect 
+of civilisation:  they proceed PARI PASSU.  A taste of 
+comfort begets a love of comfort.  And this kind of love 
+militates, not impotently, against the other; for self-
+interest is a persuasive counsellor, and gets a hearing when 
+the blood is cool.  Life must be more than possible, it must 
+be endurable; man must have some leisure, some repose, before 
+his brain-needs have a chance with those of his belly.  He 
+must have a coat to his back before he can stick a rose in 
+its button-hole.  The worst of it is, he begins - in Bethnal 
+Green at least - with the rose-bud; and indulges, poor devil! 
+in a luxury which is just the most expensive, and - in our 
+Bethnal Greens - the most suicidal he could resort to.
+
+There was one method I adopted with a show of temporary 
+success now and then.  It frequently happens that a man 
+succumbs to difficulties for which he is not responsible, and 
+which timely aid may enable him to overcome.  An artisan may 
+have to pawn or sell the tools by which he earns his living.  
+The redemption of these, if the man is good for anything, 
+will often set him on his legs.  Thus, for example, I found a 
+cobbler one day surrounded by a starving family.  His story 
+was common enough, severe illness being the burden of it.  He 
+was an intelligent little fellow, and, as far as one could 
+judge, full of good intentions.  His wife seemed devoted to 
+him, and this was the best of vouchers.  'If he had but a 
+shilling or two to redeem his tools, and buy two or three old 
+cast-off shoes in the rag-market which he could patch up and 
+sell, he wouldn't ask anyone for a copper.'
+
+We went together to the pawnbroker's, then to the rag-market, 
+and the little man trotted home with an armful of old boots 
+and shoes, some without soles, some without uppers; all, as I 
+should have thought, picked out of dust-bins and rubbish 
+heaps, his sunken eyes sparkling with eagerness and renovated 
+hope.  I looked in upon him about three weeks later.  The 
+family were sitting round a well provided tea-table, close to 
+a glowing fire, the cheeks of the children smeared with jam, 
+and the little cobbler hammering away at his last, too busy 
+to partake of the bowl of hot tea which his wife had placed 
+beside him.
+
+The same sort of treatment was sometimes very successful with 
+a skilful workman - like a carpenter, for instance.  Here a 
+double purpose might be served.  Nothing more common in 
+Bethnal Green than broken looms, and consequent disaster.  
+There you had the ready-made job for the reinstated 
+carpenter; and good could be done in a small way, at very 
+little cost.  Of coarse much discretion is needed; still, the 
+Scripture readers or the relieving officers would know the 
+characters of the destitute, and the visitor himself would 
+soon learn to discriminate.
+
+A system similar to this was the basis of the aid rendered by 
+the Royal Society for the Assistance of Discharged Prisoners, 
+which was started by my friend, Mr. Whitbread, the present 
+owner of Southill, and which I joined in its early days at 
+his instigation.  The earnings of the prisoner were handed 
+over by the gaols to the Society, and the Society employed 
+them for his advantage - always, in the case of an artisan, 
+by supplying him with the needful implements of his trade.  
+But relief in which the pauper has no productive share, of 
+which he is but a mere consumer, is of no avail.
+
+One cannot but think that if instead of the selfish 
+principles which govern our trades-unions, and which are 
+driving their industries out of the country, trade-schools 
+could be provided - such, for instance, as the cheap carving 
+schools to be met with in many parts of Germany and the Tyrol 
+- much might be done to help the bread-earners.  Why could 
+not schools be organised for the instruction of shoemakers, 
+tailors, carpenters, smiths of all kinds, and the scores of 
+other trades which in former days were learnt by compulsory 
+apprenticeship?  Under our present system of education the 
+greater part of what the poor man's children learn is clean 
+forgotten in a few years; and if not, serves mainly to create 
+and foster discontent, which vents itself in a passion for 
+mass-meetings and the fuliginous oratory of our Hyde Parks.
+
+The emigration scheme for poor-law children as advocated by 
+Mrs. Close is the most promising, in its way, yet brought 
+before the public, and is deserving of every support.
+
+In the absence of any such projects as these, the 
+hopelessness of the task, and the depressing effect of the 
+contact with much wretchedness, wore me out.  I had a nursery 
+of my own, and was not justified in risking infectious 
+diseases.  A saint would have been more heroic, and could 
+besides have promised that sweetest of consolations to 
+suffering millions - the compensation of Eternal Happiness.  
+I could not give them even hope, for I had none to spare.  
+The root-evil I felt to be the overcrowding due to the 
+reckless intercourse of the sexes; and what had Providence to 
+do with a law of Nature, obedience to which entailed 
+unspeakable misery?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI
+
+
+
+IN the autumn following the end of the Franco-German war, Dr. 
+Bird and I visited all the principal battlefields.  In 
+England the impression was that the bloodiest battle was 
+fought at Gravelotte.  The error was due, I believe, to our 
+having no war correspondent on the spot.  Compared with that 
+on the plains between St. Marie and St. Privat, Gravelotte 
+was but a cavalry skirmish.  We were fortunate enough to meet 
+a German artillery officer at St. Marie who had been in the 
+action, and who kindly explained the distribution of the 
+forces.  Large square mounds were scattered about the plain 
+where the German dead were buried, little wooden crosses 
+being stuck into them to denote the regiment they had 
+belonged to.  At Gravelotte we saw the dogs unearthing the 
+bodies from the shallow graves.  The officer told us he did 
+not think there was a family in Germany unrepresented in the 
+plains of St. Privat.
+
+It was interesting so soon after the event, to sit quietly in 
+the little summer-house of the Chateau de Bellevue, 
+commanding a view of Sedan, where Bismarck and Moltke and 
+General de Wimpfen held their memorable Council.  'Un 
+terrible homme,' says the story of the 'Debacle,' 'ce general 
+de Moltke, qui gagnait des batailles du fond de son cabinet a 
+coups d'algebre.'
+
+We afterwards made a walking tour through the Tyrol, and down 
+to Venice.  On our way home, while staying at Lucerne, we 
+went up the Rigi.  Soon after leaving the Kulm, on our 
+descent to the railway, which was then uncompleted, we lost 
+each other in the mist.  I did not get to Vitznau till late 
+at night, but luckily found a steamer just starting for 
+Lucerne.  The cabin was crammed with German students, each 
+one smoking his pipe and roaring choruses to alternate 
+singers.  All of a sudden, those who were on their legs were 
+knocked off them.  The panic was instantaneous, for every one 
+of us knew it was a collision.  But the immediate peril was 
+in the rush for the deck.  Violent with terror, rough by 
+nature, and full of beer, these wild young savages were 
+formidable to themselves and others.  Having arrived late, I 
+had not got further than the cabin door, and was up the 
+companion ladder at a bound.  It was pitch dark, and piteous 
+screams came up from the surrounding waters.  At first it was 
+impossible to guess what had happened.  Were we rammed, or 
+were we rammers?  I pulled off my coats ready for a swim.  
+But it soon became apparent that we had run into and sunk 
+another boat.
+
+The next morning the doctor and I went on to England.  A week 
+after I took up the 'Illustrated News.'  There was an account 
+of the accident, with an illustration of the cabin of the 
+sunken boat.  The bodies of passengers were depicted as the 
+divers had found them.
+
+On the very day the peace was signed I chanced to call on Sir 
+Anthony Rothschild in New Court.  He took me across the court 
+to see his brother Lionel, the head of the firm.  Sir Anthony 
+bowed before him as though the great man were Plutus himself.   
+He sat at a table alone, not in his own room, but in the 
+immense counting-room, surrounded by a brigade of clerks.  
+This was my first introduction to him.  He took no notice of 
+his brother, but received me as Napoleon received the 
+emperors and kings at Erfurt - in other words, as he would 
+have received his slippers from his valet, or as he did 
+receive the telegrams which were handed to him at the rate of 
+about one a minute.
+
+The King of Kings was in difficulties with a little slip of 
+black sticking-plaster.  The thought of Gumpelino's 
+Hyacinthos, ALIAS Hirsch, flashed upon me.  Behold! the 
+mighty Baron Nathan come to life again; but instead of 
+Hyacinthos paring his mightiness's HUHNERAUGEN, he himself, 
+in paring his own nails, had contrived to cut his finger.
+
+'Come to buy Spanish?' he asked, with eyes intent upon the 
+sticking-plaster.
+
+'Oh no,' said I, 'I've no money to gamble with.'
+
+'Hasn't Lord Leicester bought Spanish?' - never looking off 
+the sticking-plaster, nor taking the smallest notice of the 
+telegrams.
+
+'Not that I know of.  Are they good things?'
+
+'I don't know; some people think so.'
+
+Here a message was handed in, and something was whispered in 
+his ear.
+
+'Very well, put it down.'
+
+'From Paris,' said Sir Anthony, guessing perhaps at its 
+contents.
+
+But not until the plaster was comfortably adjusted did Plutus 
+read the message.  He smiled and pushed it over to me.  It 
+was the terms of peace, and the German bill of costs.
+
+'200,000,000 pounds!' I exclaimed.  'That's a heavy 
+reckoning.  Will France ever be able to pay it?'
+
+'Pay it?  Yes.  If it had been twice as much!'  And Plutus 
+returned to his sticking-plaster.  That was of real 
+importance.
+
+Last autumn - 1904, the literary world was not a little 
+gratified by an announcement in the 'Times' that the British 
+Museum had obtained possession of the original manuscript of 
+Keats's 'Hyperion.'  Let me tell the story of its discovery.  
+During the summer of last year, my friend Miss Alice Bird, 
+who was paying me a visit at Longford, gave me this account 
+of it.
+
+When Leigh Hunt's memoirs were being edited by his son 
+Thornton in 1861, he engaged the services of three intimate 
+friends of the family to read and collate the enormous mass 
+of his father's correspondence.  Miss Alice Bird was one of 
+the chosen three.  The arduous task completed, Thornton Hunt 
+presented each of his three friends with a number of 
+autographic letters, which, according to Miss Bird's 
+description, he took almost at random from the eliminated 
+pile.  Amongst the lot that fell to Miss Bird's share was a 
+roll of stained paper tied up with tape.  This she was led to 
+suppose - she never carefully examined it - might be either a 
+copy or a draft of some friend's unpublished poem.
+
+The unknown treasure was put away in a drawer with the rest.  
+Here it remained undisturbed for forty-three years.  Having 
+now occasion to remove these papers, she opened the forgotten 
+scroll, and was at once struck both with the words of the 
+'Hyperion,' and with the resemblance of the writing to 
+Keats's.
+
+She forthwith consulted the Keepers of the Manuscripts in the 
+British Museum, with the result that her TROUVAILLE was 
+immediately identified as the poet's own draft of the 
+'Hyperion.'  The responsible authorities soon after, offered 
+the fortunate possessor five hundred guineas for the 
+manuscript, but courteously and honestly informed her that, 
+were it put up to auction, some American collector would be 
+almost sure to give a much larger sum for it.
+
+Miss Bird's patriotism prevailed over every other 
+consideration.  She expressed her wish that the poem should 
+be retained in England; and generously accepted what was 
+indubitably less than its market value.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII
+
+
+
+A MAN whom I had known from my school-days, Frederick 
+Thistlethwayte, coming into a huge fortune when a subaltern 
+in a marching regiment, had impulsively married a certain 
+Miss Laura Bell.  In her early days, when she made her first 
+appearance in London and in Paris, Laura Bell's extraordinary 
+beauty was as much admired by painters as by men of the 
+world.  Amongst her reputed lovers were Dhuleep Singh, the 
+famous Marquis of Hertford, and Prince Louis Napoleon.  She 
+was the daughter of an Irish constable, and began life on the 
+stage at Dublin.  Her Irish wit and sparkling merriment, her 
+cajolery, her good nature and her feminine artifice, were 
+attractions which, in the eyes of the male sex, fully atoned 
+for her youthful indiscretions.
+
+My intimacy with both Mr. and Mrs. Thistlethwayte extended 
+over many years; and it is but justice to her memory to aver 
+that, to the best of my belief, no wife was ever more 
+faithful to her husband.  I speak of the Thistlethwaytes here 
+for two reasons - absolutely unconnected in themselves, yet 
+both interesting in their own way.  The first is, that at my 
+friend's house in Grosvenor Square I used frequently to meet 
+Mr. Gladstone, sometimes alone, sometimes at dinner.  As may 
+be supposed, the dinner parties were of men, but mostly of 
+men eminent in public life.  The last time I met Mr. 
+Gladstone there the Duke of Devonshire and Sir W. Harcourt 
+were both present.  I once dined with Mrs. Thistlethwayte in 
+the absence of her husband, when the only others were Munro 
+of Novar - the friend of Turner, and the envied possessor of 
+a splendid gallery of his pictures - and the Duke of 
+Newcastle - then a Cabinet Minister.  Such were the 
+notabilities whom the famous beauty gathered about her.
+
+But it is of Mr. Gladstone that I would say a word.  The 
+fascination which he exercised over most of those who came 
+into contact with him is incontestable; and everyone is 
+entitled to his own opinion, even though unable to account 
+for it.  This, at least, must be my plea, for to me, Mr. 
+Gladstone was more or less a Dr. Fell.  Neither in his public 
+nor in his private capacity had I any liking for him.  Nobody 
+cares a button for what a 'man in the street' like me says or 
+thinks on subject matters upon which they have made up their 
+minds.  I should not venture, even as one of the crowd, to 
+deprecate a popularity which I believe to be fast passing 
+away, were it not that better judges and wiser men think as I 
+do, and have represented opinions which I sincerely share.  
+'He was born,' says Huxley, 'to be a leader of men, and he 
+has debased himself to be a follower of the masses.  If 
+working men were to-day to vote by a majority that two and 
+two made five, to-morrow Gladstone would believe it, and find 
+them reasons for it which they had never dreamt of.'  Could 
+any words be truer?  Yes; he was not born to be a leader of 
+men.  He was born to be, what he was - a misleader of men.  
+Huxley says he could be made to believe that two and two made 
+five.  He would try to make others believe it; but would he 
+himself believe it?  His friends will plead, 'he might 
+deceive himself by the excessive subtlety of his mind.'  This 
+is the charitable view to take.  But some who knew him long 
+and well put another construction upon this facile self-
+deception.  There were, and are, honourable men of the 
+highest standing who failed to ascribe disinterested motives 
+to the man who suddenly and secretly betrayed his colleagues, 
+his party, and his closest friends, and tried to break up the 
+Empire to satisfy an inordinate ambition, and an insatiable 
+craving for power.  'He might have been mistaken, but he 
+acted for the best'?   Was he acting conscientiously for the 
+best in persuading the 'masses' to look upon the 'classes' - 
+the war cries are of his coining - as their natural enemies, 
+and worthy only of their envy and hatred?  Is this the part 
+of a statesman, of a patriot?
+
+And for what else shall we admire Mr. Gladstone?  Walter 
+Bagehot, alluding to his egotism, wrote of him in his 
+lifetime, 'He longs to pour forth his own belief; he cannot 
+rest till he has contradicted everyone else.'  And what was 
+that belief worth?  'He has scarcely,' says the same writer, 
+'given us a sentence that lives in the memory.'
+
+Even his eloquent advocate, Mr. Morley, confesses surprise at 
+his indifference to the teaching of evolution; in other 
+words, his ignorance of, and disbelief in, a scientific 
+theory of nature which has modified the theological and moral 
+creeds of the civilised world more profoundly than did the 
+Copernican system of the Universe.
+
+The truth is, Mr. Gladstone was half a century behind the age 
+in everything that most deeply concerned the destiny of man.  
+He was a politician, and nothing but a politician; and had it 
+not been for his extraordinary gift of speech, we should 
+never have heard of him save as a writer of scholia, or as a 
+college don, perhaps.  Not for such is the temple of Fame.
+
+
+Fama di loro il mondo esser non lassa.
+
+
+Whatever may be thought now, Mr. Gladstone is not the man 
+whom posterity will ennoble with the title of either 'great' 
+or 'good.'
+
+My second reason for mentioning Frederick Thistlethwayte was 
+one which at first sight may seem trivial, and yet, when we 
+look into it, is of more importance than the renown of an ex-
+Prime Minister.  If these pages are ever read, what follows 
+will be as distasteful to some of my own friends as the above 
+remarks to Mr. Gladstone's.
+
+Pardon a word about the writer himself - it is needed to 
+emphasise and justify these OBITER DICTA.  I was brought up 
+as a sportsman:  I cannot remember the days when I began to 
+shoot.  I had a passion for all kinds of sport, and have had 
+opportunities of gratifying it such as fall to the lot of 
+few.  After the shootings of Glenquoich and Invergarry were 
+lost to me through the death of Mr. Ellice, I became almost 
+the sole guest of Mr. Thistlethwayte for twelve years at his 
+Highland shooting of Kinlochmohr, not very far from Fort 
+William.  He rented the splendid deer forest of Mamore, 
+extensive grouse moors, and a salmon river within ten 
+minutes' walk of the lodge.  His marriage and his 
+eccentricities of mind and temper led him to shun all 
+society.  We often lived in bothies at opposite ends of the 
+forest, returning to the lodge on Saturday till Monday 
+morning.  For a sportsman, no life could be more enjoyable.  
+I was my own stalker, taking a couple of gillies for the 
+ponies, but finding the deer for myself - always the most 
+difficult part of the sport - and stalking them for myself.
+
+I may here observe that, not very long after I married, 
+qualms of conscience smote me as to the justifiability of 
+killing, AND WOUNDING, animals for amusement's sake.  The 
+more I thought of it, the less it bore thinking about.  
+Finally I gave it up altogether.  But I went on several years 
+after this with the deer-stalking; the true explanation of 
+this inconsistency would, I fear, be that I had had enough of 
+the one, but would never have enough of the other - one's 
+conscience adapts itself without much difficulty to one's 
+inclinations.
+
+Between my host and myself, there was a certain amount of 
+rivalry; and as the head forester was his stalker, the 
+rivalry between our men aroused rancorous jealousy.  I think 
+the gillies on either side would have spoilt the others' 
+sport, could they have done so with impunity.  For two 
+seasons, a very big stag used occasionally to find its way 
+into our forest from the Black Mount, where it was also 
+known.  Thistlethwayte had had a chance, and missed it; then 
+my turn came.  I got a long snap-shot end on at the galloping 
+stag.  It was an unsportsmanlike thing to do, but considering 
+the rivalry and other temptations I fired, and hit the beast 
+in the haunch.  It was late in the day, and the wounded 
+animal escaped.
+
+Nine days later I spied the 'big stag' again.  He was nearly 
+in the middle of a herd of about twenty, mostly hinds, on the 
+look-out.  They were on a large open moss at the bottom of a 
+corrie, whence they could see a moving object on every side 
+of them.  A stalk where they were was out of the question.  I 
+made up my mind to wait and watch.
+
+Now comes the moral of my story.  For hours I watched that 
+stag.  Though three hundred yards or so away from me, I could 
+through my glass see almost the expression of his face.  Not 
+once did he rise or attempt to feed, but lay restlessly 
+beating his head upon the ground for hour after hour.  I knew 
+well enough what that meant.  I could not hear his groans.  
+His plaints could not reach my ears, but they reached my 
+heart.  The refrain varied little:  'How long shall I cry and 
+Thou wilt not hear?' - that was the monotonous burden of the 
+moans, though sometimes I fancied it changed to:  'Lord how 
+long shall the wicked, how long shall the wicked triumph?'
+
+The evening came, and then, as is their habit, the deer began 
+to feed up wind.  The wounded stag seemed loth to stir.  By 
+degrees the last watchful hind fed quietly out of sight.  
+With throbbing pulse and with the instincts of a fox - or 
+prehistoric man, 'tis all the same - I crawled and dragged 
+myself through the peat bog and the pools of water.  But 
+nearer than two hundred yards it was impossible to get; even 
+to raise my head or find a tussock whereon to rest the rifle 
+would have started any deer but this one.  From the hollow I 
+was in, the most I could see of him was the outline of his 
+back and his head and neck.  I put up the 200 yards sight and 
+killed him.
+
+A vivid description of the body is not desirable.  It was 
+almost fleshless, wasted away, except his wounded haunch.  
+That was nearly twice its normal size; about one half of it 
+was maggots.  The stench drove us all away.  This I had done, 
+and I had done it for my pleasure!
+
+After that year I went no more to Scotland.  I blame no one 
+for his pursuit of sport.  But I submit that he must follow 
+it, if at all, with Reason's eyes shut.  Happily, your true 
+sportsman does not violate his conscience.  As a friend of 
+mine said to me the other day, 'Unless you give a man of that 
+kind something to kill, his own life is not worth having.'  
+This, to be sure, is all he has to think about.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII
+
+
+
+FOR eight or nine years, while my sons were at school, I 
+lived at Rickmansworth.  Unfortunately the Leweses had just 
+left it.  Moor Park belonged to Lord Ebury, my wife's uncle, 
+and the beauties of its magnificent park and the amenities of 
+its charming house were at all times open to us, and freely 
+taken advantage of.  During those nine years I lived the life 
+of a student, and wrote and published the book I have 
+elsewhere spoken of, the 'Creeds of the Day.'
+
+Of the visitors of note whose acquaintance I made while I was 
+staying at Moor Park, by far the most illustrious was Froude.  
+He was too reserved a man to lavish his intimacy when taken 
+unawares; and if he suspected, as he might have done by my 
+probing, that one wanted to draw him out, he was much too 
+shrewd to commit himself to definite expressions of any kind 
+until he knew something of his interviewer.  Reticence of 
+this kind, on the part of such a man, is both prudent and 
+commendable.  But is not this habit of cautiousness sometimes 
+carried to the extent of ambiguity in his 'Short Studies on 
+Great Subjects'?  The careful reader is left in no sort of 
+doubt as to Froude's own views upon Biblical criticism, as to 
+his theological dogmas, or his speculative opinions.  But the 
+conviction is only reached by comparing him with himself in 
+different moods, by collating essay with essay, and one part 
+of an essay with another part of the same essay.  Sometimes 
+we have an astute defence of doctrines worthy at least of a 
+temperate apologist, and a few pages further on we wonder 
+whether the writer was not masking his disdain for the 
+credulity which he now exposes and laughs at.  Neither 
+excessive caution nor timidity are implied by his editing of 
+the Carlyle papers; and he may have failed - who that has 
+done so much has not? - in keeping his balance on the swaying 
+slack-rope between the judicious and the injudicious.  In his 
+own line, however, he is, to my taste, the most scholarly, 
+the most refined, and the most suggestive, of our recent 
+essayists.  The man himself in manner and in appearance was 
+in perfect keeping with these attractive qualities.
+
+While speaking of Moor Park and its kind owner I may avail 
+myself of this opportunity to mention an early reminiscence 
+of Lord Ebury's concerning the Grosvenor estate in London.
+
+Mr. Gladstone was wont to amuse himself with speculations as 
+to the future dimensions of London; what had been its growth 
+within his memory; what causes might arise to cheek its 
+increase.  After listening to his remarks on the subject one 
+day at dinner, I observed that I had heard Lord Ebury talk of 
+shooting over ground which is now Eaton Square.  Mr. 
+Gladstone of course did not doubt it; but some of the young 
+men smiled incredulously.  I afterwards wrote to Lord Ebury 
+to make sure that I had not erred.  Here is his reply:
+
+
+'Moor Park, Rickmansworth:  January 9, 1883.
+
+'MY dear Henry, - What you said I had told you about snipe-
+shooting is quite true, though I think I ought to have 
+mentioned a space rather nearer the river than Eaton Square.  
+In the year 1815, when the battle of Waterloo was fought, 
+there was nothing behind Grosvenor Place but the (-?) fields 
+- so called, a place something like the Scrubbs, where the 
+household troops drilled.  That part of Grosvenor Place where 
+the Grosvenor Place houses now stand was occupied by the Lock 
+Hospital and Chapel, and it ended where the small houses are 
+now to be found.  A little farther, a somewhat tortuous lane 
+called the King's Road led to Chelsea, and, I think, where 
+now St. Peter's, Pimlico, was afterwards built.  I remember 
+going to a breakfast at a villa belonging to Lady 
+Buckinghamshire.  The Chelsea Waterworks Company had a sort 
+of marshy place with canals and osier beds, now, I suppose, 
+Ebury Street, and here it was that I was permitted to go and 
+try my hand at snipe-shooting, a special privilege given to 
+the son of the freeholder.
+
+'The successful fox-hunt terminating in either Bedford or 
+Russell Square is very strange, but quite appropriate, 
+commemorated, I suppose, by the statue there erected.
+
+Yours affectionately,
+
+'E.'
+
+
+The successful 'fox-hunt ' was an event of which I told Lord 
+Ebury as even more remarkable than his snipe-shooting in 
+Belgravia.  As it is still more indicative of the growth of 
+London in recent times it may be here recorded.
+
+In connection with Mr. Gladstone's forecasts, I had written 
+to the last Lord Digby, who was a grandson of my father's, 
+stating that I had heard - whether from my father or not I 
+could not say - that he had killed a fox where now is Bedford 
+Square, with his own hounds.
+
+Lord Digby replied:
+
+
+'Minterne, Dorset:  January 7, 1883.
+
+'My dear Henry, - My grandfather killed a fox with his hounds 
+either in Bedford or Russell Square.  Old Jones, the 
+huntsman, who died at Holkham when you were a child, was my 
+informant.  I asked my grandfather if it was correct.  He 
+said "Yes" - he had kennels at Epping Place, and hunted the 
+roodings of Essex, which, he said, was the best scenting-
+ground in England.
+
+'Yours affectionately,
+
+'DIGBY.'
+
+
+(My father was born in 1754.)
+
+
+Mr. W. S. Gilbert had been a much valued friend of ours 
+before we lived at Rickmansworth.  We had been his guests for 
+the 'first night' of almost every one of his plays - plays 
+that may have a thousand imitators, but the speciality of 
+whose excellence will remain unrivalled and inimitable.  His 
+visits to us introduced him, I think, to the picturesque 
+country which he has now made his home.  When Mr. Gilbert 
+built his house in Harrington Gardens he easily persuaded us 
+to build next door to him.  This led to my acquaintance with 
+his neighbour on the other side, Mr. Walter Cassels, now well 
+known as the author of 'Supernatural Religion.'
+
+When first published in 1874, this learned work, summarising 
+and elaborately examining the higher criticism of the four 
+Gospels up to date, created a sensation throughout the 
+theological world, which was not a little intensified by the 
+anonymity of its author.  The virulence with which it was 
+attacked by Dr. Lightfoot, the most erudite bishop on the 
+bench, at once demonstrated its weighty significance and its 
+destructive force; while Mr. Morley's high commendation of 
+its literary merits and the scrupulous equity of its tone, 
+placed it far above the level of controversial diatribes.
+
+In my 'Creeds of the Day' I had made frequent references to 
+the anonymous book; and soon after my introduction to Mr. 
+Cassels spoke to him of its importance, and asked him whether 
+he had read it.  He hesitated for a moment, then said:
+
+'We are very much of the same way of thinking on these 
+subjects.  I will tell you a secret which I kept for some 
+time even from my publishers - I am the author of 
+"Supernatural Religion."'
+
+From that time forth, we became the closest of allies.  I 
+know no man whose tastes and opinions and interests are more 
+completely in accord with my own than those of Mr. Walter 
+Cassels.  It is one of my greatest pleasures to meet him 
+every summer at the beautiful place of our mutual and 
+sympathetic friend, Mrs. Robertson, on the skirts of the 
+Ashtead forest, in Surrey.
+
+The winter of 1888 I spent at Cairo under the roof of General 
+Sir Frederick Stephenson, then commanding the English forces 
+in Egypt.  I had known Sir Frederick as an ensign in the 
+Guards.  He was adjutant of his regiment at the Alma, and at 
+Inkerman.  He is now Colonel of the Coldstreams and Governor 
+of the Tower.  He has often been given a still higher title, 
+that of 'the most popular man in the army.'
+
+Everybody in these days has seen the Pyramids, and has been 
+up the Nile.  There is only one name I have to mention here, 
+and that is one of the best-known in the world.  Mr. Thomas 
+Cook was the son of the original inventor of the 'Globe-
+trotter.'  But it was the extraordinary energy and powers of 
+organisation of the son that enabled him to develop to its 
+present efficiency the initial scheme of the father.
+
+Shortly before the General's term expired, he invited Mr. 
+Cook to dinner.  The Nile share of the Gordon Relief 
+Expedition had been handed over to Cook.  The boats, the 
+provisioning of them, and the river transport service up to 
+Wady Halfa, were contracted for and undertaken by Cook.
+
+A most entertaining account he gave of the whole affair.  He 
+told us how the Mudir of Dongola, who was by way of rendering 
+every possible assistance, had offered him an enormous bribe 
+to wreck the most valuable cargoes on their passage through 
+the Cataracts.
+
+Before Mr. Cook took leave of the General, he expressed the 
+regret felt by the British residents in Cairo at the 
+termination of Sir Frederick's command; and wound up a pretty 
+little speech by a sincere request that he might be allowed 
+to furnish Sir Frederick GRATIS with all the means at his 
+disposal for a tour through the Holy Land.  The liberal and 
+highly complimentary offer was gratefully acknowledged, but 
+at once emphatically declined.  The old soldier, (at least, 
+this was my guess,) brave in all else, had not the courage to 
+face the tourists' profanation of such sacred scenes.
+
+Dr. Bird told me a nice story, a pendant to this, of Mr. 
+Thomas Cook's liberality.  One day, before the Gordon 
+Expedition, which was then in the air, Dr. Bird was smoking 
+his cigarette on the terrace in front of Shepherd's Hotel, in 
+company with four or five other men, strangers to him and to 
+one another.  A discussion arose as to the best means of 
+relieving Gordon.  Each had his own favourite general.  
+Presently the doctor exclaimed:  'Why don't they put the 
+thing into the hands of Cook?  I'll be bound to say he would 
+undertake it, and do the job better than anyone else.'
+
+'Do you know Cook, sir?' asked one of the smokers who had 
+hitherto been silent.
+
+'No, I never saw him, but everybody knows he has a genius for 
+organisation; and I don't believe there is a general in the 
+British Army to match him.'
+
+When the company broke up, the silent stranger asked the 
+doctor his name and address, and introduced himself as Thomas 
+Cook.  The following winter Dr. Bird received a letter 
+enclosing tickets for himself and Miss Bird for a trip to 
+Egypt and back, free of expense, 'in return for his good 
+opinion and good wishes.'
+
+After my General's departure, and a month up the Nile, I - 
+already disillusioned, alas! - rode through Syria, following 
+the beaten track from Jerusalem to Damascus.  On my way from 
+Alexandria to Jaffa I had the good fortune to make the 
+acquaintance of an agreeable fellow-traveller, Mr. Henry 
+Lopes, afterwards member for Northampton, also bound for 
+Palestine.  We went to Constantinople and to the Crimea 
+together, then through Greece, and only parted at Charing 
+Cross.
+
+It was easy to understand Sir Frederick Stephenson's 
+(supposed) unwillingness to visit Jerusalem.  It was probably 
+far from being what it is now, or even what it was when 
+Pierre Loti saw it, for there was no railway from Jaffa in 
+our time.  Still, what Loti pathetically describes as 'une 
+banalite de banlieue parisienne,' was even then too painfully 
+casting its vulgar shadows before it.  And it was rather with 
+the forlorn eyes of the sentimental Frenchman than with the 
+veneration of Dean Stanley, that we wandered about the ever-
+sacred Aceldama of mortally wounded and dying Christianity.
+
+One dares not, one could never, speak irreverently of 
+Jerusalem.  One cannot think heartlessly of a disappointed 
+love.  One cannot tear out creeds interwoven with the 
+tenderest fibres of one's heart.  It is better to be silent.  
+Yet is it a place for unwept tears, for the deep sadness and 
+hard resignation borne in upon us by the eternal loss of 
+something dearer once than life.  All we who are weary and 
+heavy laden, in whom now shall we seek the rest which is not 
+nothingness?
+
+My story is told, but I fain would take my leave with words 
+less sorrowful.  If a man has no better legacy to bequeath 
+than bid his fellow-beings despair, he had better take it 
+with him to his grave.
+
+
+We know all this, we know!
+
+
+But it is in what we do not know that our hope and our 
+religion lies.  Thrice blessed are we in the certainty that 
+here our range is infinite.  This infinite that makes our 
+brains reel, that begets the feeling that makes us 'shrink,' 
+is perhaps the most portentous argument in the logic of the 
+sceptic.  Since the days of Laplace, we have been haunted in 
+some form or other with the ghost of the MECANIQUE CELESTE.  
+Take one or two commonplaces from the text-books of 
+astronomy:
+
+Every half-hour we are about ten thousand miles nearer to the 
+constellation of Lyra.  'The sun and his system must travel 
+at his present rate for far more than a million years (divide 
+this into half-hours) before we have crossed the abyss 
+between our present position and the frontiers of Lyra' 
+(Ball's 'Story of the Heavens').
+
+'Sirius is about one million times as far from us as the sun.  
+If we take the distance of Sirius from the earth and 
+subdivide it into one million equal parts, each of these 
+parts would be long enough to span the great distance of 
+92,700,000 miles from the earth to the sun,' yet Sirius is 
+one of the NEAREST of the stars to us.
+
+The velocity with which light traverses space is 186,300 
+miles a second, at which rate it has taken the rays from 
+Sirius which we may see to-night, nine years to reach us.  
+The proper motion of Sirius through space is about one 
+thousand miles a minute.  Yet 'careful alignment of the eye 
+would hardly detect that Sirius was moving, in . . . even 
+three or four centuries.'
+
+'There may be, and probably are, stars from which Noah might 
+be seen stepping into the Ark, Eve listening to the 
+temptation of the serpent, or that older race, eating the 
+oysters and leaving the shell-heaps behind them, when the 
+Baltic was an open sea' (Froude's 'Science of History').
+
+Facts and figures such as these simply stupefy us.  They 
+vaguely convey the idea of something immeasurably great, but 
+nothing further.  They have no more effect upon us than words 
+addressed to some poor 'bewildered creature, stunned and 
+paralysed by awe; no more than the sentence of death to the 
+terror-stricken wretch at the bar.  Indeed, it is in this 
+sense that the sceptic uses them for our warning.
+
+'Seit Kopernikus,' says Schopenhauer, 'kommen die Theologen 
+mit dem lieben Gott in Verlegenheit.'  'No one,' he adds, 
+'has so damaged Theism as Copernicus.'  As if limitation and 
+imperfection in the celestial mechanism would make for the 
+belief in God; or, as if immortality were incompatible with 
+dependence.  Des Cartes, for one, (and he counts for many,) 
+held just the opposite opinion.
+
+Our sun and all the millions upon millions of suns whose 
+light will never reach us are but the aggregation of atoms 
+drawn together by the same force that governs their orbit, 
+and which makes the apple fall.  When their heat, however 
+generated, is expended, they die to frozen cinders; possibly 
+to be again diffused as nebulae, to begin again the eternal 
+round of change.
+
+What is life amidst this change?  'When I consider the work 
+of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars which Thou hast 
+ordained, what is man that Thou art mindful of him?'
+
+But is He mindful of us?  That is what the sceptic asks.  Is 
+He mindful of life here or anywhere in all this boundless 
+space?  We have no ground for supposing (so we are told) that 
+life, if it exists at all elsewhere, in the solar system at 
+least, is any better than it is here?  'Analogy compels us to 
+think,' says M. France, one of the most thoughtful of living 
+writers, 'that our entire solar system is a gehenna where the 
+animal is born for suffering. . . . This alone would suffice 
+to disgust me with the universe.'  But M. France is too deep 
+a thinker to abide by such a verdict.  There must be 
+something 'behind the veil.'  'Je sens que ces immensites ne 
+sont rien, et qu'enfin, s'il y a quelque chose, ce quelque 
+chose n'est pas ce que nous voyons.'  That is it.  All these 
+immensities are not 'rien,' but they are assuredly not what 
+we take them to be.  They are the veil of the Infinite, 
+behind which we are not permitted to see.
+
+
+It were the seeing Him, no flesh shall dare.
+
+
+The very greatness proves our impotence to grasp it, proves 
+the futility of our speculations, and should help us best of 
+all though outwardly so appalling, to stand calm while the 
+snake of unbelief writhes beneath our feet.  The unutterable 
+insignificance of man and his little world connotes the 
+infinity which leaves his possibilities as limitless as 
+itself.
+
+Spectrology informs us that the chemical elements of matter 
+are everywhere the same; and in a boundless universe where 
+such unity is manifested there must be conditions similar to 
+those which support life here.  It is impossible to doubt, on 
+these grounds alone, that life does exist elsewhere.  Were we 
+rashly to assume from scientific data that no form of animal 
+life could obtain except under conditions similar to our own, 
+would not reason rebel at such an inference, on the mere 
+ground that to assume that there is no conscious being in the 
+universe save man, is incomparably more unwarrantable, and in 
+itself incredible?
+
+Admitting, then, the hypothesis of the universal distribution 
+of life, has anyone the hardihood to believe that this is 
+either the best or worst of worlds?  Must we not suppose that 
+life exists in every stage of progress, in every state of 
+imperfection, and, conversely, of advancement?  Have we still 
+the audacity to believe with the ancient Israelites, or as 
+the Church of Rome believed only three centuries ago, that 
+the universe was made for us, and we its centre?  Or must we 
+not believe that - infinity given - the stages and degrees of 
+life are infinite as their conditions?  And where is this to 
+stop?  There is no halting place for imagination till we 
+reach the ANIMA MUNDI, the infinite and eternal Spirit from 
+which all Being emanates.
+
+The materialist and the sceptic have forcible arguments on 
+their side.  They appeal to experience and to common sense, 
+and ask pathetically, yet triumphantly, whether aspiration, 
+however fervid, is a pledge for its validity, 'or does being 
+weary prove that he hath where to rest?'  They smile at the 
+flights of poetry and imagination, and love to repeat:
+
+
+Fools! that so often here
+Happiness mocked our prayer,
+I think might make us fear
+A like event elsewhere;
+Make us not fly to dreams, but moderate desire.
+
+
+But then, if the other view is true, the Elsewhere is not the 
+Here, nor is there any conceivable likeness between the two.  
+It is not mere repugnance to truths, or speculations rather, 
+which we dread, that makes us shrink from a creed so shallow, 
+so palpably inept, as atheism.  There are many sides to our 
+nature, and I see not that reason, doubtless our trustiest 
+guide, has one syllable to utter against our loftiest hopes.  
+Our higher instincts are just as much a part of us as any 
+that we listen to; and reason, to the end, can never 
+dogmatise with what it is not conversant.
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg eText Tracks of a Rolling Stone
+
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