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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75449 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+
+CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL
+
+OF
+
+POPULAR
+
+LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART
+
+Fifth Series
+
+ESTABLISHED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, 1832
+
+CONDUCTED BY R. CHAMBERS (SECUNDUS)
+
+NO. 149.—VOL. III.      SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1886.      PRICE 1½_d._]
+
+
+
+
+NOTES ON THE NEW HEBRIDES.
+
+
+There is a wide contrast between the Hebrides of Scotland and the New
+Hebrides of the Western Pacific; but both have come into a good deal of
+prominence of late—the one in connection with the crofters, the other
+in connection with the French. It is of the New Hebrides we propose to
+say something.
+
+The group of islands forming part of Melanesia to which the name of
+New Hebrides has been given extends for about seven hundred miles. The
+most northern of the group is about one hundred miles from the Santa
+Cruz Islands, and the most southern about two hundred miles from New
+Caledonia. Espiritu Santo is the largest and most northerly of the
+group, and is about seventy-five miles long by forty miles broad. The
+next largest island is called Mallicolo, and is fifty-six miles long
+by twenty miles broad. The entire land area of the group may be taken
+as about five thousand square miles; and the population of the whole
+group has been estimated variously from fifty thousand to two hundred
+thousand. But whatever the total population, the peoples probably
+sprung from one original stock, although they have drifted far apart
+in the matter of language. There are said to be no fewer than thirty
+different languages in the New Hebridean group—all having a certain
+grammatical likeness, but quite unintelligible to the other islanders.
+The difference is not merely such as exists between Scotch, Irish, and
+Welsh Gaelic; it is a more marked division of tongues.
+
+The inhabitants vary nearly as much as their languages. Although
+distinctly Papuan, there are traits and traces of Polynesian
+intermixture and even of separate Polynesian settlement. Thus, on
+Vaté, the men are taller, fairer, and better-looking than those on
+some of the other islands, the more generally prevailing type being
+one of extreme ugliness and short stature. They all are, or have
+been, cannibals; but on Aneityum they are now supposed to be all
+Christianised.
+
+Aneityum, or Anateum, or Anatom—for it is spelt in all three ways—is
+within two hundred miles of the nearest point in New Caledonia, and
+within five hundred miles of Fiji. It has a spacious, well-sheltered
+harbour, which is easy of access, and is throughout well wooded and
+watered. The general character of the island is mountainous; and there
+is an agreeable diversity of hill and valley, the mountains being
+intersected by deep ravines, and cultivated spots alternating with
+barren tracts. The principal wealth of this island is in its timber,
+of which the kauri pine appears to be the chief; but there is also a
+good deal of valuable sandal-wood. Some years ago, an attempt was made
+to establish a whale-fishery off the shores of Aneityum; but we have
+not heard with what result. The length of this island is about fourteen
+miles, and its breadth about eight. The climate, although damp, is not
+disagreeable, and is not marked by great variations. The thermometer
+seldom goes below sixty-two degrees, and never below fifty-eight
+degrees; but, on the other hand, it never goes above ninety-four
+degrees, and seldom above eighty-nine degrees in the shade.
+
+Aneityum deserves especial mention because the whole population is
+understood now to profess Christianity. That population in 1865 was
+stated by Mr Brenchley to be two thousand two hundred, and it has not
+probably increased much, if any, since then. Previous to 1850, the
+natives of Aneityum were as degraded and savage as on any island of
+the Pacific; but two missionaries who settled there about the date
+mentioned began to work a steady and continuous change.
+
+The Aneityum people do not live in villages, but separately in the
+midst of their cultivated patches, which are divided into districts,
+each containing about sixty. The government is in the hands of chiefs,
+of whom there are three principal, each having a number of petty chiefs
+under them. But their power appears limited.
+
+Aneityum, like the other islands of the New Hebrides, is of volcanic
+origin, and it is surrounded by coral reefs. No minerals have been
+found; and in this connection it is worthy of remark that Australians
+insist that there is a much closer natural affinity between the New
+Hebrides and Fiji than there is between the New Hebrides and New
+Caledonia, which is an island rich in minerals. Mr Brenchley enumerates
+the principal indigenous products of Aneityum as bread-fruit, banana,
+cocoa-nut, horse-chestnut, sago-palm, another species of palm bearing
+small nuts, sugar-cane, taro—the staple article of food—yams in
+small quantities, sweet-potatoes, and arrowroot. Of fruits, &c.,
+introduced, the orange, lime, lemon, citron, pine-apple, custard-apple,
+papaw-apple, melons, and pumpkins, have succeeded. The cotton plant
+had also been introduced, and promised well; and French beans were
+grown for the Sydney market. There are more than a hundred species of
+ferns on the island, and more than a hundred species of fish in the
+waters surrounding it. But the fish are not all edible, and besides
+being different from, are inferior to those found in the northern
+hemisphere. The birds are not very numerous; but butterflies and
+insects abound, in the case of the latter the list being lengthened by
+the importation of fleas by Europeans. Among themselves, the natives
+barter fishing-baskets, nets, sleeping-mats, hand-baskets, pigs, fowls,
+taro, and cocoa-nuts. With foreigners, they barter pigs, fowls, taro,
+bananas, cocoa-nuts, sugar-cane, &c., for European clothing, hatchets,
+knives, fish-hooks, and so forth. Their weapons are spears, clubs, bows
+and arrows—the spears being rude and very crooked.
+
+Of Tanna, another of the southern division of the group, many
+interesting notes have been left by Mr Brenchley and Dr Turner. It is
+about forty or fifty miles from Aneityum, and has a somewhat narrow
+anchorage, called Port Resolution Bay. On the west side of this bay
+there is a large and preternaturally active volcano, which pulsates
+in a regular sequence of eruptions at intervals of five, seven, or
+ten minutes, night and day, all the year round. The regularity of the
+eruptions is supposed to be caused by the influx of water into the
+volcano from a lake which lies at its base. Tanna is nearly circular,
+and between thirty-five and forty miles across. It is covered with
+lofty hills, bright with verdure.
+
+Mr Brenchley stated the population at fifteen to twenty thousand; but
+Dr Turner placed it at only ten or twelve thousand; and Turner, who
+resided for some months on the island, is likely to be nearer the mark.
+The people are of middle stature, and of a copper colour naturally,
+although some of them are as black as New Hollanders, through
+artificial dyeing of their skins. They are rather better-looking than
+average Papuans, but make themselves hideous with red paint. The men
+frizzle their hair, which is oftener light-brown than black in colour;
+the women wear the hair short, but ‘laid out in a forest of little
+erect curls about an inch and a half long.’ They pierce the septum of
+the nose, and insert horizontally a small piece of wood; and in their
+ears they wear huge ornaments of tortoise-shell. They do not tattoo.
+The women wear long girdles, hanging to the knee, made of the dried
+fibre of banana stalks; and the men wear an unsightly waistcloth of
+matting. Their weapons are clubs, bows and arrows, and spears, with
+which they are very expert, and they always work and sleep with their
+weapons by their sides. They are, in fact—or were, when Dr Turner lived
+among them—a race of warriors, for the tribes were incessantly at war
+with each other. ‘We were never able,’ says Dr Turner, ‘to extend our
+journeys above four miles from our dwelling at Port Resolution. At such
+distances we came to boundaries which were never passed, and beyond
+which the people spoke a different dialect. At one of these boundaries,
+actual war would be going on; at another, kidnapping and cooking each
+other; and at another, all might be peace, but, by mutual consent, they
+had no dealings with each other.... When visiting the volcano one day,
+the natives told us about a battle in which one party which was pursued
+ran right into the crater, and there fought for a while on the downward
+slope inside the cup!’
+
+The climate of Tanna is damp for four months of the year, when fever
+and ague are common; but it is agreeable during the remainder of the
+year; and the average annual temperature is about eighty-six degrees.
+The soil, on account of the volcanic origin, is extremely fertile, and
+there are a number of boiling springs.
+
+Erromango, to the north of Tanna, is celebrated for its massacres of
+missionaries and white settlers, and it was here that Mr Williams was
+murdered many years ago. This island is covered with dense vegetation
+down to the very water’s edge. It contains a great deal of fine timber,
+such as sandal-wood, kauri pine, &c. The population was estimated at
+about five thousand by both Mr Brenchley and Dr Turner. The people
+are very much like the Tannese, but are without any settled villages
+or considerable chiefs. The Erromangan women tattoo the upper part of
+their bodies, and wear leaf-girdles hanging from waist to heel; but the
+men prefer nudity. Neither infanticide nor euthanasia seems to prevail
+here, but the sick are not particularly well cared for. Dr Turner
+traced a belief in witchcraft and some belief in a future state. The
+spirits of the dead are supposed to go eastward, and some are thought
+to roam about in the bush.
+
+Vaté or Sandwich Island, still to the north, is another interesting
+member of the group. It has attracted many Australians and others, who
+have attempted settlements, but not, we believe, with success as yet.
+Dr Turner calls it a ‘lovely island’—although, whether it compares with
+the island of Aurora, one of the most northerly of the group, which Mr
+Walter Coote says is a perfect earthly paradise, we cannot tell. Vaté,
+at anyrate, is very lovely, and seems to be of coral formation. Its
+size is about one hundred miles in circumference, and its population
+perhaps, ten thousand—although Dr Turner said twelve thousand. There
+is no general king, but a large number of petty chiefs. The people are
+more fully clothed than those of the other islands we have referred
+to; they do not tattoo—they only paint the face in war; they wear
+trinkets and armlets; and they live in regular villages. There are
+several dialects, but not such diversity as in Tanna. They do not
+fight so much as the Tannese; but have clubs, spears, and poisoned
+arrows. Infanticide, unfortunately, is prevalent, and seems to be
+the consequence of the practice of the women having to do all the
+plantation and other hard work.
+
+In Vaté, they have no idols, and they say that the human race sprang
+from stones and the earth. The men of the stones were _Natamoli
+nefat_, and the men of the earth _Natamoli natana_. The native name
+of the island is Efat or Stone—which has been corrupted into Vaté.
+The principal god is Supu, who created Vaté and everything on it;
+and when a person dies, he is supposed to be taken away by Supu.
+Ancestor-worship is also practised, and the aged were often buried
+alive at their own request.
+
+The island of Vaté is high above the sea, of an irregular outline,
+and distinguished by some fine bold features. ‘We could see,’ says Mr
+Brenchley, ‘high mountains, whose summits seemed clad with verdure,
+while the thick woods towards their base formed, as it were, a girdle
+which spread downwards as far as the beach.’ Ashore, he saw high
+reed-grass, wild sugar-canes ten feet high, and vast plantations of
+banana and cocoa-nut. The soil is of remarkable fertility; but the
+island is subject to frequent shocks of earthquake, sometimes very
+violent. The climate is damp, but not unhealthy. Of the natives, we
+have read differing accounts, one describing them as among the best,
+and another as among the worst of New Hebridean aborigines, with a
+remarkably developed and insatiable craving for human flesh. The happy
+mean is probably near the truth, that is to say, they are neither
+better nor worse than the rest of their race, and are very much as the
+visitor makes them.
+
+
+
+
+BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE.
+
+BY FRED. M. WHITE.
+
+
+IN TWENTY CHAPTERS.—CHAP. XII.
+
+Coolly, as if the whole transaction had been a little light recreation,
+and untroubled in conscience, as if the fatal card had fallen to
+Maxwell by pure chance, instead of base trickery, Le Gautier turned his
+steps in the direction of Fitzroy Square. It was a matter of supreme
+indifference to him now whether Maxwell obeyed the dictum of the League
+or not; indeed, flat rebellion would have suited his purpose better,
+for in that case he would be all the sooner rid of; and there was just
+a chance that the affair with Visci might end favourably; whereas,
+on the other hand, a refusal would end fatally for the rash man who
+defied the League. Men can face open danger; it is the uncertainty, the
+blind groping in the dark, that wears body and mind out, unstrings the
+nerves, and sometimes unseats reason. Better fight with fearful odds,
+than walk out with the shadow of the sword hanging over one night and
+day. The inestimable Frenchman had seen what defiance to the League
+generally came to; and as he reviewed his rosy prospects, his bright
+thoughts lent additional flavour to his cigarette. Nevertheless, his
+heart beat a trifle faster as he pulled the bell at the quiet house in
+Ventnor Street. Adventures of this sort were nothing novel to him; but
+he had something more at stake here than the fortunes of the little
+blind boy and the light intrigue he looked for. Miss St Jean was in,
+he found; and he was shown up to her room, where he sat noting the
+apartment—the open piano, and the shaded waxlights, shining softly—just
+the proper amount of light to note charms by, and just dim enough to
+unite confidences. As he noted these things, he smiled, for Le Gautier
+was a connoisseur in the graceful art of love-making, and boasted
+that he could read women as scholars can expound abstruse passages of
+the earlier classics, or think they can, which pleases them equally.
+In such like case, the Frenchman was about to fall into a similar
+error, never dreaming that the artistically arranged room with its
+shaded lights was a trap to catch his soul. He waited impatiently for
+the coming fair one, knowing full well that she wished to create an
+impression. If such was her intention, she succeeded beyond expectation.
+
+With her magnificent hair piled up upon her small shapely head, and its
+glossy blackness relieved only by a single diamond star, shining like a
+planet on the bosom of the midnight sky, with a radiant smile upon her
+face, she came towards him. She was dressed in some light shimmering
+material, cut low upon the shoulders; and round the corsage was a
+wreath of deep red roses, a crimson ribbon round the neck, from which
+depended a diamond cross. She came forward murmuring a few well-chosen
+words, and sank into a chair, waiting for Le Gautier to recover.
+
+He had need of time to recover his scattered senses, for, man of the
+world as he was, and acquainted with beauty as he was, he had never
+seen anything like this before. But he was not the sort to be long
+taken aback; he raised his eyes to hers with a mute homage which was
+more eloquent than words. He began to feel at home; the dazzling
+loveliness threw a spell upon him, the delicious mystery was to his
+liking; and he was tête-à-tête.
+
+‘I began to think I had failed to interest you sufficiently last
+night,’ Isodore commenced, waving her fan slowly before her face. ‘I
+began to imagine you were not coming to take pity on my loneliness.’
+
+‘How could you dream such a thing?’ Le Gautier replied in his most
+languishing voice. His pulses began to beat at these last words. ‘Did
+I not promise to come? I should have been here long since, but sordid
+claims of business detained me from your side.’
+
+‘It must have been pressing business,’ Isodore laughed archly. ‘And
+pray, what throne are you going to rock to its foundations now?’
+
+Had Le Gautier been a trifle less vain, he would have been on his guard
+when the conversation took so personal a turn; but he was flattered;
+the question betokened an interest in himself. ‘How would it interest
+you?’ he asked.
+
+‘How do you know that it would not? Remember, that though I am bound by
+no oath, I am one of you. Anything connected with the League, anything
+connected with yourself, cannot fail to interest me.’
+
+The words ran through Le Gautier’s frame like quicksilver. He was
+impulsive and passionate; these few minutes had almost sufficed to seal
+his thraldom. He began to lose his head. ‘You flatter me,’ he said
+joyously. ‘Our business to-night was short; we only had to choose an
+avenging angel.’
+
+‘For Visci, I suppose?’ Isodore observed with some faint show of
+interest. ‘Poor man! And upon whom did the choice fall?’
+
+‘A new member, curiously enough. I do not know if you are acquainted
+with him: his name is Maxwell.’
+
+‘May he prove as true to the cause as—as you are. I have never had the
+fortune to be present on one of these occasions. How do you manage it?
+Do you draw lots, or do you settle it with dice?’
+
+‘On this occasion, no. We have a much fairer plan than that. We take
+a pack of cards; they are counted, to see if they are correct; then
+each man present shuffles them; a particular one represents the fatal
+number, and the president of the assembly deals them out. Whoever the
+chosen one falls to has to do the task in hand.’
+
+‘That, I suppose, must be fair, unless there is a conjurer presiding,’
+Isodore observed reflectively.—‘Who was the president to-night?’
+
+‘I myself. I took my chance with the others, you must understand.’
+
+Isodore did not reply, as she sat there waving her fan backwards and
+forwards before her face. Le Gautier fancied that for a moment a smile
+of bitter contempt flashed out from her eyes; but he dismissed the
+idea, for, when she dropped the fan again, her face was clear and
+smiling.
+
+‘I am wearying you,’ she said, ‘by my silly questions. A woman who asks
+questions should not be allowed in society; she should be shut away
+from her fellow-creatures, as a thing to be avoided. I am no talker
+myself, at least not in the sense men mean.—Shall I play to you?’
+
+Le Gautier would have asked nothing better than to sit there feasting
+his eyes upon her matchless beauty; but now he assented eagerly to
+the suggestion. Music is an accomplishment which forces flirtation;
+besides which, he could stand close to her side, turning over the
+leaves with opportunities which a quiet conversation never furnishes.
+Taking him at his word, she sat down at the instrument and commenced
+to play. It might have been brilliant or despicably bad, opera or
+oratorio, anything to the listener; he was far too deeply engrossed in
+the player to have any sense alive to the music. Perfectly collected,
+she did not fail to note this, and when she had finished, she looked
+up in his passionate face with a glance melting and tender, yet wholly
+womanly. It took all Le Gautier’s self-command to restrain himself
+from snatching her to his heart in his madness and covering the dark
+face with kisses. He was reckless now, too far gone to disguise his
+admiration, and she knew it. With one final crash upon the keys she
+rose from her seat, confronting him.
+
+‘Do not leave off yet,’ he urged, and saying this, he laid his hand
+upon her arm. She started, trembling, as if some deadly thing had stung
+her. To her it was a sting; to him, the evidence of awaking passion,
+and he, poor fool, felt his heart beat faster. She sat down again,
+panting a little, as from some inward emotion. ‘As you please,’ she
+said. ‘Shall I sing to you?’
+
+‘Sweeter than the voice of the nightingales to me!’ he exclaimed
+passionately. ‘Yes, do sing. I shall close my eyes, and fancy myself in
+paradise.’
+
+‘Your imagination must be a powerful one.—Do you know this?’
+
+Isodore took a piece of music from the stand, a simple Italian air,
+and placed it in his hands. He turned over the leaves carelessly,
+and returned it to her with a gesture of denial. There was a curious
+smile upon her lips as she sat down to sing, a smile that puzzled and
+bewildered him.
+
+‘Do you not know it?’ she asked, when the last chords died away.
+
+‘Now you have sung it, I think I do. It is a sentimental sort of thing,
+do you not think? A little girl I used to know near Rome sang it to me.
+She, I remember, used to imagine it was my favourite song. She was one
+of the romantic schoolgirls, Miss St Jean, and the eyes she used to
+make at me when she sang it are something to be remembered.’
+
+Isodore turned her back sharply and searched among the music. If he
+could only have seen the bitter scorn in the face then—scorn partly for
+him, and wholly for herself. But again she steeled herself.
+
+‘I daresay you gave her some cause, Monsieur Le Gautier,’ she said.
+‘You men of the world, flitting from place to place, think nothing of
+breaking a country heart or two. You may not mean it, perhaps, but so
+it is.’
+
+‘Hearts do not break so easily,’ Le Gautier replied lightly. ‘Perhaps I
+did give the child some cause, as you say. _Pardieu!_ a man tied down
+in a country village must amuse himself, and a little unsophisticated
+human nature is a pleasant chance. She was a little spitfire, I
+remember, and when I left, could not see the matter in a reasonable
+light. There is still some bitter vengeance awaiting me, if I am to
+believe her words.’
+
+‘Then you had best beware. A woman’s heart is a dangerous plaything,’
+Isodore replied. ‘Do you never feel sorry, never experience a pang
+of conscience after such a thing as that? Surely, at times you must
+regret?’
+
+‘I have heard of such a thing as conscience,’ Le Gautier put in airily;
+‘but I must have been born before they came into fashion. No, Miss St
+Jean, I cannot afford to indulge in luxuries.’
+
+‘And the League takes up so much of your time. And that reminds me. We
+have said nothing yet about your insignia. I may tell you now that it
+is not yet in my hands; but I shall obtain it for you. How bold, how
+reckless you were that night, and yet I do not wonder! At times, the
+sense of restraint must bear heavy upon a man of spirit.’
+
+‘Thank you, from the bottom of my heart,’ Le Gautier fervently
+exclaimed. ‘You are too good to me.—Yes,’ he continued, ‘there are
+times when I feel the burden sorely—times like the present, let us say,
+when I have a foretaste of happier things. If I had you by my side, I
+could defy the world.’
+
+Isodore looked at him and laughed, her wonderful magnetic smile making
+her eyes aglow and full of dazzling tints.
+
+‘That could not be,’ she said. ‘I would have no divided attentions; I
+would have a man’s whole heart, or nothing. I have too long been alone
+in the world not to realise what a full meed of affection means.’
+
+‘You should have all mine!’ Le Gautier cried, carried away by the
+torrent of his passions. ‘No longer should the League bind me. I would
+be free, if it cost ten thousand lives! No chains should hold me then,
+for, by heaven, I would not hesitate to betray it!’
+
+‘Hush, hush!’ Isodore exclaimed in a startled whisper. ‘You do not
+understand what you are saying. You do not comprehend the meaning of
+your words. Would you betray the Brotherhood?’
+
+‘Ay, if you but say the word—ten thousand Brotherhoods.’
+
+‘I am not bound by solemn oath like you,’ Isodore replied sadly; ‘and
+at times I think it could never do good. It is too dark and mysterious
+and too violent to my taste; but you are bound in honour.’
+
+‘But suppose I was to come to you and say I was free?’ Le Gautier asked
+hoarsely. ‘To tell you that my hands were no longer fettered—what words
+would you have to say to me then—Marie?’ He hesitated before he uttered
+the last word, dwelling upon it in an accent of the deepest tenderness.
+Apparently, Isodore did not notice, for her eyes were sad, her thoughts
+evidently far away.
+
+‘I do not know what I should say to you—in time.’
+
+‘Your words are like new life to me,’ Le Gautier exclaimed; ‘they give
+me hope and strength, and in my undertaking I shall succeed.’
+
+‘You will do nothing rash, nothing headstrong, without telling me.
+Let me know when you are coming to see me again, and we will talk the
+matter over; but I fear, without treachery, you never can be free.’
+
+‘Anything to be my own master!’ he retorted fervently.—‘Good-night,
+and remember that any step I may take will be for you.’ With a long
+lingering pressure of the hand and many burning glances, he was gone.
+
+Isodore heard his retreating footsteps echoing down the stairs, and
+thence along the silent street. The mask fell from her face; she
+clenched her hands, and her countenance was crossed with a hundred
+angry passions. Valerie entering at that moment, looked at her with
+something like fear.
+
+‘Sit down, Valerie,’ Isodore whispered hoarsely, in a voice like the
+tones of one in great pain, as she walked impatiently about the room,
+her hands twisted together convulsively. ‘Do not be afraid; I shall be
+better presently. I feel as if I want to scream, or do some desperate
+thing to-night. He has been here, Valerie; how I sustained myself, I
+cannot tell.’
+
+‘Did he recognise you?’ Valerie asked timidly.
+
+‘Recognise me? No, indeed! He spoke about the old days by the Mattio
+woods, the old times when we were together, and laughed at me for a
+romantic schoolgirl. I nearly stabbed him then. There is treachery
+afloat; his plan is prospering. As I told you it would be, Maxwell is
+chosen for the Roman mission; but he will never do the deed, for I
+shall warn Visci myself. And he was my bro——Visci’s friend!’
+
+‘But what are you going to do now?’ Valerie asked.
+
+‘He is a traitor. He is going to betray the League, and I am going
+to be his confidant. I saw it in his face. I wonder how I bear it—I
+wonder I do not die! What would they say if they saw Isodore now?—Come,
+Valerie, come and hold me tightly in your arms—tighter still. If I do
+not have a little pity, my poor heart will break.’
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Long and earnestly did Salvarini and Maxwell sit in the latter’s studio
+discussing the events of the evening, till the fire had burnt down
+to ashes and the clock in the neighbouring steeple struck three. It
+was settled that Maxwell should go to Rome, though with what ulterior
+object they did not decide. Time was in his favour, the lapse of a
+month or so in the commission being a matter of little object to the
+League. They preferred that vengeance should be deferred for a time,
+and that the blow might be struck when it was least expected, when
+the victim was just beginning to imagine himself safe and the matter
+forgotten.
+
+‘I suppose I had better lose no time in going?’ Maxwell observed, when
+they had discussed the matter thoroughly. ‘Time and distance are no
+objects to me, or money either.’
+
+‘As to your time of departure, I should say as soon as possible,’
+Salvarini replied; ‘and as to money, the League finds that.’
+
+‘I would not touch a penny of it, Luigi—no, not if I was starving. I
+could not soil my fingers with their blood-money.—What do you say to my
+starting on Monday night? I could get to Rome by Thursday morning at
+the latest.—And yet, to what good? I almost feel inclined to refuse,
+and bid them do their worst.’
+
+‘For heaven’s sake, do not!’ Salvarini implored. ‘Such a thing is worse
+than folly. If you assume a readiness to fulfil your undertaking,
+something may turn up in your favour.’ Maxwell gazed moodily in the
+dead ashes, and cursed the hot-headed haste which had placed him in
+that awful position. Like every right-minded man, he shrank with horror
+from such a cowardly crime.
+
+‘You will never attain your ends,’ he said. ‘Your cause is a noble one;
+but true liberty, perfect freedom, turns against cold-blooded murder;
+for call it what you will, it is nothing else.’
+
+‘You are right, my friend,’ Salvarini mournfully replied. ‘No good can
+come of it; and when reprisals come, as they must, they shall be swift
+and terrible.—But Frederick,’ he continued, laying his hand on the
+other’s shoulder, ‘do not blame me too deeply, for I will lay down my
+own life cheerfully before harm shall come to you.’
+
+Maxwell was not aware that Sir Geoffrey Charteris was a member of the
+League, as Le Gautier had taken care to keep them apart, so far as
+business matters were concerned, only allowing the baronet to attend
+such meetings as were perfectly harmless in their general character,
+and calculated to inspire him with admiration of the philanthropic
+schemes and self-denying usefulness of the Brotherhood; nor was it the
+Frenchman’s intention to admit him any deeper into its secrets; indeed,
+his admission only formed part of the scheme by which the baronet, and
+through him his daughter, should be entirely in the Frenchman’s power.
+The cards were sorted, and, once Maxwell was out of the way, the game
+was ready to be played. All this the artist did not know.
+
+With a heavy heart and a foreboding of coming evil, he made the simple
+preparations for his journey. He had delayed to the last the task of
+informing Enid of his departure, partly from a distaste of alarming
+her, and partly out of fear. It would look more natural, he thought,
+to break it suddenly, merely saying he had been called to Rome on
+pressing business, and that his absence would not be a prolonged one.
+Till Saturday, he put this off, and then, bracing up his nerves, he
+got into his cab, and was driven off rapidly in the direction of
+Grosvenor Square. He was roused from his meditations by a shock and a
+crash, the sound of broken glass, the sight of two plunging horses on
+the ground—roused by being shot forward violently, by the shouts of
+the crowd, and above all, by the piercing scream of a woman’s voice.
+Scrambling out as best he could, he rose to his feet and looked around.
+His cab had come violently in collision with another in the centre of
+Piccadilly. A woman had attempted to cross hurriedly; and the two cabs
+had swerved suddenly, coming together sharply, but not too late to save
+the woman, who was lying there, in the centre of an eager, excited
+crowd, perfectly unconscious, the blood streaming down her white face,
+and staining her light summer dress. A doctor had raised her a little,
+and was trying to force some brandy between the clenched teeth, as
+Maxwell pushed his way through the crowd.
+
+‘Nothing very serious,’ he said, in answer to Maxwell’s question.
+‘She is simply stunned by the blow, and has sustained, I should say,
+a simple fracture of the right arm. She must be moved from here at
+once.—If you will call a cab, I will take her to a hospital.’
+
+‘No, no!’ Maxwell cried, moved to pity by the pale fair face and slight
+girlish figure. ‘I am mainly responsible for the accident, and you must
+allow me to be the best judge. My cab, you see, is almost uninjured;
+put her in there, and I will tell you where to drive.’
+
+They lifted the unconscious girl and placed her tenderly on the seat.
+There were warm hearts and sympathetic hands there, as you may notice
+on such occasions as these, and there was a look of feeling in every
+face as the cab drove slowly away.
+
+‘Go on to Grosvenor Square,’ Maxwell instructed his man. ‘Drive slowly
+up New Bond Street. We shall be there as soon as you.’
+
+They arrived at Sir Geoffrey’s house together, considerably astonishing
+the footman, as, without ceremony, they carried the sufferer in.
+Alarmed by strange voices and the shrieks of the servants, who had come
+up at the first alarm, Enid made her appearance to demand the meaning
+of this unseemly noise; but directly she heard the cause, as coherently
+as Maxwell could tell her, her face changed, and she became at once all
+tenderness and womanly sympathy.
+
+‘I knew you would not mind, darling,’ he whispered gratefully. ‘I
+hardly knew what to do, and it was partly my fault.’
+
+‘You did quite right. Of course I do not mind. Fred, what do you take
+me for?’ She knelt down beside the injured woman there in the hall, in
+the presence of all the servants, and helped to carry her up the stairs.
+
+Lucrece looked on for a moment, and then a startled look came in her
+face. ‘Ah!’ she exclaimed, ‘I know that face—it is Linda Despard.’
+
+Enid heard these words, but did not heed them at the time. They carried
+the girl into one of the rooms and laid her on the bed. At a sign
+from the doctor, the room was cleared, with the exception of Enid and
+Lucrece, and the medical man proceeded to look to the broken limb. It
+was only a very simple fracture, he said. The gravest danger was from
+the shock to the system and the wound upon the forehead. Presently,
+they got her comfortably in bed, breathing regularly, and apparently
+asleep. The good-natured doctor, waving aside all thanks, left the
+room, promising to call again later in the day.
+
+
+
+
+FOUNDLING QUOTATIONS.
+
+
+Quotations play no small part in conversation and general literature.
+There are some which we know must inevitably be made under certain
+circumstances. It is almost impossible, for instance, for the
+conventional novelist, when he wants to convey to his readers the fact
+that his heroine’s nose is of a particular order—which, formerly,
+through our lack of invention, we could only describe by a somewhat
+ungraceful term—to avoid quoting Lord Tennyson’s description of the
+feature as it graced Lynette’s fair face—‘Tip-tilted like the petal of
+a flower.’ We feel sure that it must come; and there is now, happily,
+no occasion for a young lady in the position of one of Miss Braddon’s
+earlier heroines, when listening to a detailed description of her
+appearance, to interrupt the speaker, as he is about to mention the
+characteristics of her nose, with a beseeching, ‘Please, don’t say
+_pug_!’
+
+And then, does anybody ever expect to read a description of a certain
+celebrated Scotch ruin, without being told that
+
+    If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright,
+    Go visit it by the pale moonlight?
+
+or to get through an account of the ancient gladiatorial games at Rome
+without coming across the line,
+
+    Butchered to make a Roman holiday?
+
+You know, perhaps, what praise Mark Twain took to himself because he
+did _not_ quote this line. ‘If any man has a right,’ he says, ‘to feel
+proud of himself and satisfied, surely it is I; for I have written
+about the Coliseum, and the gladiators, the martyrs, and the lions, and
+yet have never used the phrase, “Butchered to make a Roman holiday.”
+I am the only free white man of mature age who has accomplished
+this since Byron originated the expression.’ This little piece of
+self-congratulation rather reminds one of the lady who was accused of
+never being able to write a letter without adding a P.S. At last, she
+managed to write one without the usual addition; but when she saw what
+she had succeeded in doing, she wrote: ‘P.S.—At last, you see, I have
+written a letter without a P.S.’ And so, though Mark Twain managed to
+steer clear of the hackneyed quotation in the body of his account, he
+could not help running against it in a P.S.
+
+Then we have all the multitude of Shaksperean quotations which are
+sure to be heard in their accustomed places, many of which, indeed,
+have become—to quote again—such ‘household words,’ that to very many
+people they do not appear to be quotations at all, but merely every-day
+expressions, of the same order as ‘A fine day’ or ‘A biting wind.’
+
+Again, when we read of some cheerful fireside scene, when the curtains
+are drawn closely against the winter wind that is roaring round the
+house, and the logs are crackling and spitting in the grate, and the
+urn is hissing and steaming upon the table, don’t we know that a
+reference to the ‘cup which cheers but not inebriates’ is certainly
+coming? This, by the way, is a line that is almost invariably
+incorrectly quoted, and it is the usual and incorrect form that we have
+given. We shall leave our readers to turn up the line for themselves,
+and see what the correct form is, and then, perhaps, the trouble they
+will thereby have had will serve to impress it upon their minds, and
+prevent them again quoting it incorrectly.
+
+But it was not with the intention of talking about these well-known
+and every-day quotations from Tennyson, Scott, Byron, Shakspeare, and
+Cowper that we thought of writing this paper. We want to talk about a
+few quotations, quite as well known as those to which we have already
+alluded, which have been so bandied about that all trace, or nearly
+all trace, of their original parish and paternity has been lost; and,
+though they are as familiar to us as the most hackneyed phrases from
+our best known poets, no one can say with certainty by whom they were
+first spoken or written.
+
+A good many wagers have been made as to the source of the well-known
+and much-quoted couplet:
+
+    He that fights and runs away,
+    May live to fight another day.
+
+The popular belief is that they are to be found in Butler’s _Hudibras_.
+But the pages of that poem may be turned over and over again, and the
+lines will not be found in them. We may as well say at once that they
+cannot be found anywhere in the exact form in which they are usually
+quoted. The late Mr James Yeowell, formerly sub-editor of _Notes
+and Queries_, once thought that he had discovered their author in
+Oliver Goldsmith, as a couplet, varying very slightly from the form
+we have given, occurs in _The Art of Poetry on a New Plan_, which was
+compiled by Newbery—the children’s publisher—more than a century ago,
+and revised and enlarged by Goldsmith. But the lines are to be found
+in a book that was published some thirteen years before _The Art of
+Poetry_, namely, Ray’s _History of the Rebellion_. There they appear as
+a quotation, and no hint is given as to the source from which they are
+taken. Ray gives them as follows (first edition, 1749, page 54):
+
+    He that fights and runs away,
+    May turn and fight another day.
+
+Though this is the earliest appearance in print of the exact words, or
+almost the exact words, in which the quotation is now usually given,
+it is by no means the earliest appearance of a similar thought. Even
+as far back as Demosthenes we find it. It appears, too, in Scarron, in
+his _Virgile Travesti_, if we remember rightly. And now we must confess
+that the still prevailing belief that the lines occur in _Hudibras_
+is not entirely without a _raison d’être_, and it is not impossible
+that Ray may have thought he was quoting Butler, preserving some hazy
+and indistinct recollection of lines read long ago, and putting their
+meaning, perhaps quite unwittingly and unconsciously, into a new and
+unauthorised form. This, however, is mere conjecture. The lines, as
+they appear in _Hudibras_ (part iii. canto iii., lines 243, 244), are
+as follows:
+
+    For those that fly, may fight again,
+    Which he can never do that’s slain.
+
+We may just add that Collet, in his _Relics of Literature_, says that
+the couplet occurs in a small volume of miscellaneous poems by Sir John
+Mennis, written in the reign of Charles II. With this book, however, we
+are unacquainted, and cannot, therefore, discuss the appearance of the
+foundling lines in it, or what claims its author may have to be their
+legitimate parent.
+
+All readers of Tennyson—and who that reads at all is not numbered
+amongst them?—know well the opening stanza of _In Memoriam_:
+
+    I held it truth, with him who sings
+      To one clear harp in divers tones,
+      That men may rise on stepping-stones
+    Of their dead selves to higher things.
+
+These lines contain another quotation of the order we have designated
+as ‘Foundling Quotations.’ Who is the singer, ‘to one clear harp in
+divers tones,’ to whom Lord Tennyson refers? Passages from Seneca and
+from St Augustine (Bishop of Hippo) have been suggested as inspiring
+the poet when he penned the lines; but neither Seneca nor St Augustine
+can be said to _sing_ ‘to one clear harp in divers tones.’ Perhaps
+the most reasonable hypothesis is that Lord Tennyson had in his mind
+Longfellow’s beautiful poem of _St Augustine’s Ladder_, the opening
+lines of which are:
+
+    Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
+      That of our vices we can frame
+    A ladder, if we will but tread
+      Beneath our feet each deed of shame!
+
+and the closing ones:
+
+    Nor deem the irrevocable Past
+      As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
+    If, rising on its wrecks, at last
+      To something nobler we attain.
+
+The question, however, though Lord Tennyson is still alive, is one
+that is not likely ever to be clearly solved; for we have very good
+authority for saying that he has himself quite forgotten of what poet
+or verses he was thinking when he composed the first stanza of _In
+Memoriam_.
+
+The equally well-known
+
+                      This is truth the poet sings,
+    That a sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remembering happier things,
+
+in _Locksley Hall_, refers, of course, to the line in Dante’s _Inferno_.
+
+The trite ‘Not lost, but gone before,’ might alone provide
+subject-matter for a fairly long essay. Like the other quotations
+which we are discussing, it can be definitely assigned to no author.
+The thought can be traced back as far as the time of Antiphanes, a
+portion of whose eleventh ‘fragment,’ Cumberland has translated, fairly
+literally, as follows:
+
+    Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,
+    Advanced a stage or two upon that road
+    Which you must travel, in the steps they trod.
+
+Seneca, in his ninety-ninth Epistle, says: ‘Quem putas periisse,
+præmissus est’ (He whom you think dead has been sent on before); and he
+also has: ‘Non amittuntur, sed præmittuntur’ (They are not lost, but
+are sent on before), which corresponds very closely with the popular
+form of the quotation. Cicero has the remark that ‘Friends, though
+absent, are still present;’ and it is very probable that it is to this
+phrase of Cicero that we are really indebted for the modern, ‘Not lost,
+but gone before.’ We may note that Rogers, in his _Human Life_, has,
+‘Not dead, but gone before.’
+
+Then there is the somewhat similar, ‘Though lost to sight, to memory
+dear,’ which no one has succeeded in satisfactorily tracing to its
+original source. It was said, some years ago, that the line was to be
+found in a poem published in a journal whose name was given as _The
+Greenwich Magazine_, in 1701, and written by one Ruthven Jenkyns. The
+words formed the refrain of each stanza of the poem. We give one of
+them as a sample:
+
+    Sweetheart, good-bye! the fluttering sail
+    Is spread to waft me far from thee;
+    And soon before the fav’ring gale
+    My ship shall bound upon the sea.
+    Perchance all desolate and forlorn,
+    These eyes shall miss thee many a year,
+    But unforgotten every charm—
+    Though lost to sight, to memory dear.
+
+Mr Bartlett, however, in the last edition of his _Dictionary of
+Quotations_, has demolished this story of Mr Ruthven Jenkyns; and the
+line is still unclaimed and fatherless. Probably, as in the case of the
+last mentioned, ‘Not lost, but gone before,’ its germ is to be found in
+an expression of Cicero.
+
+There is a Latin line familiar to all of us, ‘Tempora mutantur, nos et
+mutamur in illis’ (The times change, and we change with them), which
+we are frequently hearing and seeing. This is a much-abused line;
+probably there is none more so; and we do not think we shall be guilty
+of exaggeration if we say that it is misquoted ten times for every time
+it is correctly cited. The positions of the _nos_ and the _et_ are
+usually interchanged; the result being, of course, a false quantity;
+for the line is a hexameter. Now, who first wrote this line? The answer
+must be, as in the cases of all our other ‘Foundling Quotations,’ that
+we do not know. But in this particular instance we may venture to be
+a little more certain and definite in our remarks concerning its
+pedigree than we have dared to be in previous ones. There can be little
+doubt that the line is a corruption of one to be found in the _Delitiæ
+Poetarum Germanorum_ (vol. i. page 685), amongst the poems of Matthias
+Borbonius, who considers it a saying of Lotharius I., who flourished,
+as the phrase goes, about 830 A.D. We give the correct form of the line
+in question, and the one which follows it:
+
+    Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis;
+    Illa vices quasdem res habet, illa suas.
+
+There is another foundling Latin line, almost as frequently quoted as
+the one we have just been discussing, namely, ‘Quos Deus vult perdere,
+prius dementat’ (Whom the gods would destroy, they first madden).
+Concerning this there is a note in the fifth chapter of the eighth
+volume of Mr Croker’s edition of Boswell’s _Life of Johnson_, in which
+it is said to be a translation from a Greek iambic of Euripides, which
+is quoted; but no such line is to be found amongst the writings of
+Euripides. Words, however, expressing the same sentiment are to be
+found in a fragment of Athenagoras; and it is most likely that the
+Latin phrase now so commonly quoted is merely a translation from this
+writer’s Greek, though by whom it was first made we cannot say. The
+same sentiment has been expressed more than once in English poetry.
+
+Dryden, in the third part of _The Hind and the Panther_, has:
+
+    For those whom God to ruin has designed,
+    He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.
+
+And Butler writes in _Hudibras_ (part iii. canto ii., lines 565, 566):
+
+    Like men condemned to thunder-bolts,
+    Who, ere the blow, become mere dolts.
+
+Further consideration will probably bring to the reader’s mind other
+examples of these ‘Foundling Quotations’ which have won for themselves
+an imperishable existence; though their authors, whose names these
+few-syllabled sentences might have kept alive for ever, if they were
+only linked the one with the other, are now utterly unknown and
+forgotten. Any one who can succeed in discovering the real authorship
+of the quotations we have been considering will win for himself the
+credit of having solved problems which have long and persistently
+baffled the most curious and diligent research.
+
+
+
+
+MISS MASTERMAN’S DISCOVERY.
+
+
+IN TWO CHAPTERS.—CHAP. I.
+
+Miss Phœbe Masterman was a spinster over whose head some fifty summers
+had flown—with, it may be presumed, incredible swiftness to herself.
+She was very comfortably situated with regard to this world’s goods,
+having inherited ample means from her father, a native of Durham, who
+had made a considerable fortune as a coal-merchant. At the time of her
+father’s death, she was thirty-five; and as she had no near relative
+in whom to interest herself, she established an Orphanage for twelve
+girls at Bradborough, a market-town in the north of England, within two
+miles of the coast. Brought up in the strictest conformity with Miss
+Masterman’s peculiar views, dressed with the most rigid simplicity,
+fed on the plainest fare, taught to look upon the mildest forms of
+recreation as vanity and vexation of spirit, these fortunate orphans,
+one would think, could hardly fail to become virtuous and happy; yet,
+inconceivable as it may appear, there were legends that orphans had
+been seen with red eyes and countenances expressive of anything but
+content; there was even a dark rumour to the effect that one of them
+had been heard to declare that if she only had the opportunity she
+would gladly commit a crime, that she might be sent to prison, and so
+escape from the thraldom of Miss Masterman!
+
+But even this ingratitude and depravity paled before that of the Rev.
+Shanghan Lambe, incumbent of the little church of St Mary’s. Now, Miss
+Masterman had built that church for the good of the district, and the
+living was in her own gift. Yet Mr Lambe, entirely ignoring the latter
+fact, had had the hardihood to baptise an orphan in Miss Masterman’s
+absence without previously obtaining the permission of that lady;
+upon which the indignant lady declared that unless he promised not to
+interfere with her orphans, she would withdraw all her subscriptions
+and leave him to find his own income. Nor was this all. There were
+other reasons to make Mr Lambe pause before quarrelling with Miss
+Masterman. Before he was appointed to St Mary’s, he had been only a
+poor curate with a stipend of fifty pounds a year, which munificent
+income he had found totally inadequate to his wants and those of an
+aged mother who was dependent on him; consequently, he had entered upon
+his duties at Bradborough shackled with small debts to the amount of a
+hundred pounds.
+
+Miss Masterman, who made a point of inquiring into every one’s affairs,
+soon became aware of this, and as want of generosity was by no means to
+be numbered among her failings, she rightly judged that it would not
+be reasonable to expect a man to give his mind to his work if he were
+weighed down by other cares; so, in an evil hour for himself, poor Mr
+Lambe accepted from the lady a sum of money sufficient to defray his
+debts—a sum for which, as he soon found, he would have to pay compound
+interest in the way of blind obedience to Miss Masterman’s behests. Not
+a funeral could be performed, not a marriage could be solemnised, not
+an infant could be baptised, without Miss Masterman’s permission; and
+it was even asserted by some that Miss Masterman selected the texts for
+the poor man’s sermons! The only oasis in his desert was the annual
+departure of Miss Masterman for change of air; then, and then only,
+did Mr Lambe breathe in peace. For a brief period, he felt that he was
+really master of himself. He could sit down and smoke his pipe without
+fear that his sitting-room door would be rudely flung open by an
+imperious female of fierce aspect, who would lecture him on his sinful
+extravagance in the use of tobacco, when he couldn’t pay his debts.
+
+One bright August morning, Miss Masterman was seated at her breakfast
+table, and having concluded her meal, had taken up the morning paper
+and was studying the advertisements, holding the paper at arm’s-length
+with an air of grim combativeness, as if she were prepared to give
+battle to any or all the advertisers who did not offer exactly what she
+sought. Suddenly, she pounced upon the following: ‘A Home is offered in
+a Country Rectory by a Rector and his family for two or three months
+to a Single Lady needing change of air. House, with large grounds,
+conservatories, pony-carriage, beautiful scenery.—Address, Rector,
+_Clerical Times Office_.’
+
+‘That will do,’ said Miss Masterman to herself; and, with her usual
+promptitude, she sat down then and there and wrote to the advertiser,
+asking particulars as to terms, &c. And in due course she received
+an answer so perfectly satisfactory in every respect, that the end
+of the month found her comfortably installed in the charming rectory
+of Sunnydale, in the county of Hampshire, in the family of the Rev.
+Stephen Draycott, rector of Sunnydale.
+
+The rector’s family, besides himself and his wife, consisted of two
+sons and two daughters, all grown up, with the exception of Master
+Hubert, a boy of ten years old, who was endowed with such a remarkable
+fund of animal spirits that he was the terror of the neighbourhood;
+and from the first moment of Miss Masterman’s arrival, he became the
+special _bête noire_ of that lady. With all the other members of the
+family, Miss Masterman was much pleased. The rector himself was a
+polished and dignified person, and by the extreme, if rather laboured,
+courtesy of his manners, he endeavoured to tone down the somewhat
+exuberant spirits of the rest of his family. Mrs Draycott was a gentle,
+refined matron, with a sweet, though rather weary face, and was simply
+adored by her husband and children. The two daughters, Adela and
+Magdalen, were charming girls, full of fun, and very popular with their
+two brothers, of whom the senior, Clive, was aged nineteen.
+
+To the young people, Miss Masterman’s arrival was little short of
+a calamity; they were so much in the habit of freely stating their
+opinions on all subjects without restraint, that the presence of a
+stranger appeared to them an unmitigated bore. It was in vain that
+their mother reminded them that the handsome sum paid by Miss Masterman
+for her board would be a very desirable addition to the family
+exchequer. At a sort of cabinet council held after she had retired to
+her room the first night after her arrival, Master Hubert expressed, in
+schoolboy slang, his conviction that she was a ‘ghastly old crumpet;’ a
+nickname which she retained until a servant one day brought in a letter
+which, she said, was addressed to ‘Miss Pobe Masterman;’ from which
+moment, Miss Masterman went by the name of ‘Pobe’ till the end of her
+visit—a piece of irreverence of which that lady happily remained quite
+unconscious.
+
+By the time Miss Masterman had settled down in her new abode, the
+principal ladies of the parish came to call upon her; and as some of
+them were not only rich but very highly connected, Miss Masterman
+greatly appreciated their kind attentions. Among them was a Lady
+O’Leary, an Irish widow, with whom Miss Masterman soon struck up a
+great intimacy. Lady O’Leary was generally believed to be a person
+of large fortune; but as this supposition was based entirely on her
+own representations with regard to property in Ireland, there were
+some sceptical spirits who declined to believe in it as an established
+fact. Lady O’Leary shared three furnished rooms with a Miss Moone, who
+lived with her as companion; and it soon became quite an institution
+for Miss Masterman to take tea with her two or three times a week at
+least. On these occasions, the two ladies—for Miss Moone discreetly
+withdrew when Lady O’Leary had visitors—discussed all the affairs
+of the parish, until, by degrees, they got upon such thoroughly
+confidential terms, that before long they had imparted to each other
+their joint conviction that the general moral tone of the parish was
+lamentably low, and that it was doubtless owing in a great measure to
+the deplorably frivolous conduct of the family at the rectory; for Miss
+Masterman had discovered, to her amazement and horror, that the rector
+not only permitted his daughters to read Shakspeare, but even gave them
+direct encouragement to do so. Nor was this all; he actually was in the
+habit, once a year, of taking all his children up to London to see the
+pantomime at Drury Lane!
+
+Among the more frequent visitors at the rectory was a Mrs Penrose, an
+exceedingly pretty young widow, who had recently taken a small house
+in the village, where she lived very quietly with an old servant,
+who appeared greatly attached to her mistress. The widow, who was
+apparently not more than five-and-twenty, was a charming brunette, with
+sparkling black eyes, and hair like waves of shining brown satin; and
+her sweet face and animated manners made her generally very popular
+in the village, where she visited the poor and assisted the rector in
+various parochial works of charity. Especially was she a favourite at
+the rectory, not only with Mr and Mrs Draycott, but with the young
+people, her presence in the family circle invariably giving rise to
+so much hilarity, that even the rector was attracted by the general
+merriment, and would leave his study to come and sit with his family,
+and allow himself to join in their mirth at Mrs Penrose’s lively
+sallies. Indeed, he had even been heard to declare, in Miss Masterman’s
+hearing, to that lady’s unspeakable disgust, that when he was fagged
+and worried with the necessary work of a parish, a few minutes of Mrs
+Penrose’s cheerful society acted on his mind like a tonic.
+
+Miss Masterman, from the first, had taken an extraordinary antipathy to
+Mrs Penrose, who appeared to her to be everything that a widow ought
+not to be! Her bright face and unflagging spirits were a constant
+offence to the elder lady, though she had often been told that the late
+Captain Penrose was such a worthless man that his early death, brought
+about entirely by his own excesses, could be nothing but an intense
+relief to his young widow, who was now enjoying the reaction, after
+five years of married misery. Miss Masterman’s dislike to Mrs Penrose
+was fully shared by her friend Lady O’Leary; and they both agreed that
+the widow was in all probability a designing adventuress, and deplored
+the infatuation which evidently blinded the rector as to her real
+character, for, as Lady O’Leary observed: ‘Though it was given out that
+Mrs Penrose was the particular friend of _Mrs_ Draycott, the rector’s
+partiality was obvious!’
+
+Miss Masterman had been at Sunnydale for six weeks, when one morning
+she received a letter from her housekeeper, informing her that Mr Lambe
+had taken upon himself to remark that the orphans were looking pale and
+jaded, and that he was going to take them all to spend a day at the
+seaside. Miss Masterman, on reading this letter, felt most indignant,
+and at once wrote to Mr Lambe to forbid the proposed excursion; and
+after enumerating the many obligations under which she had laid him—not
+forgetting the hundred pounds she had lent him—she concluded by
+expressing her surprise that he should presume to interfere with her
+special protégées in any way whatever.
+
+To this Mr Lambe replied that he was ‘extremely sorry if he had
+offended Miss Masterman; that he had imagined that she would be pleased
+for the orphans to have the treat, particularly as some of them
+looked far from well; but that, having promised the children, it was
+impossible for him to break his word, particularly as he had ordered a
+van for their conveyance and made all the necessary arrangements for
+the trip; he therefore trusted that Miss Masterman would forgive him if
+he still kept his promise to his little friends.’
+
+Furious at this unexpected opposition to her will, Miss Masterman at
+once went in search of Mrs Draycott to inform her that it was necessary
+for her to go home for a week or ten days on business of importance.
+Finding that Mrs Draycott was not at home, she repaired to the rector’s
+study, and after knocking at the door, and being told to enter, she
+informed Mr Draycott of her intentions. Saying that she must write home
+at once, she was about to withdraw, when Mr Draycott courteously asked
+her if she would not write in the study, to save time, as he was just
+going out. Miss Masterman thanked him; and as soon as he had gone, sat
+down and wrote to her housekeeper to say that she would be at home the
+following day without fail. Having finished her letter, she was about
+to leave the room, when she observed a note in a lady’s handwriting,
+which had apparently slipped out of the blotting-pad on to the floor.
+She picked it up, and was about to return it to its place, when the
+signature, ‘Florence Penrose,’ caught her eye. ‘What can that frivolous
+being have to say to the rector?’ thought Miss Masterman; and feeling
+that her curiosity was too strong to be resisted, she unfolded the
+note, and read the following words:
+
+    MY DEAR FRIEND—I have just received the diamonds, which are exactly
+    what I wanted. The baby’s cloak and hood will do very well. I have
+    now nearly all that I require. My only terror is, lest our secret
+    should be discovered.—In great haste. Yours, as ever,
+
+                                                       FLORENCE PENROSE.
+
+    _P.S._—I hope you won’t forget to supply me with plenty of flowers.
+
+Here was a discovery! For a few moments Miss Masterman sat motionless
+with horror; her head was in a whirl, and she had to collect her
+thoughts before she could make up her mind what to do. The first
+definite idea that occurred to her was to secure the note; the next
+was, to show it to Lady O’Leary and to discuss with her what was to be
+done. As soon, therefore, as she had completed all her arrangements
+for her journey on the morrow, she repaired to her friend’s lodgings;
+and after Lady O’Leary had fairly exhausted all the expletives that
+even her extensive Irish vocabulary could supply, to express her
+horror and detestation of the conduct of the rector and Mrs Penrose,
+the two ladies laid their heads together, and seriously discussed the
+advisability of writing to the bishop of the diocese and sending him
+the incriminating letter. However, they finally decided to do nothing
+before Miss Masterman’s return to Sunnydale; and in the meantime,
+Lady O’Leary undertook to be on the watch, and to keep her friend _au
+courant_ as to what was going on in the parish.
+
+It was late that evening when Miss Masterman returned to the rectory,
+and by going up directly to her room, she avoided meeting the rector.
+The next morning she pleaded headache as an excuse for having her
+breakfast sent up to her; and did not come down until, from her window,
+she had seen Mr Draycott leave the house, knowing he would be away for
+some hours. He left a polite message with his wife, regretting that he
+had not been able to say good-bye in person to Miss Masterman.
+
+‘The wily hypocrite!’ thought that lady. ‘He little thinks that his
+guilt is no secret to me. But such atrocity shall not go unpunished!’
+
+When she took leave of Mrs Draycott, she astonished that lady by
+holding her hand for some moments as she gazed mournfully into her
+face; then, with a final commiserating glance, the worthy spinster
+hurried into her fly. As she drove away, she leant forward and waved
+her hand to the assembled family with such effusion, that Mrs Draycott
+exclaimed: ‘Dear me, I fear I have done Miss Masterman injustice. I had
+no idea that she possessed so much feeling as she showed just now. One
+would really think she was going for good, instead of only ten days!’
+
+‘No such luck,’ cried the irrepressible Hubert. ‘But, at all events, we
+have got rid of her for a week at least; so now, we’ll enjoy ourselves,
+and forget all about “Pobe” till she turns up again!’—a resolution
+which the young gentleman did not fail to keep most faithfully.
+
+In the meantime, Miss Masterman was busily employed at Bradborough in
+quelling orphans and other myrmidons, and reducing things in general
+to complete subjection to her will; but with regard to Mr Lambe, she
+found her task more difficult than she expected. In fact, the worm had
+turned; and on her summoning him to her presence and opening the vials
+of her wrath on his devoted head, he calmly but firmly announced his
+intention of sending his resignation to his bishop; which took Miss
+Masterman so completely by surprise, that, in her bewilderment, she
+actually asked him to reconsider his decision. But though she even
+went so far as to give her consent to the orphans having their coveted
+treat, Mr Lambe’s determination was not to be shaken.
+
+The following week flew swiftly away; a good deal of correspondence
+devolved upon Miss Masterman through having to think of a successor to
+Mr Lambe, and the lady of the manor was very much worried. At last,
+however, everything was settled, and Miss Masterman began to think of
+returning to Sunnydale, where, as she felt, fresh anxieties and most
+painful duties awaited her.
+
+
+
+
+POPULAR LEGAL FALLACIES.[1]
+
+BY AN EXPERIENCED PRACTITIONER.
+
+
+_DEEDS OF GIFT AND WILLS.—I._
+
+One of the most universally believed fallacies is that it is better to
+make a deed of gift than a will for the disposal of property. Nothing
+can be more dangerous than this delusion, as we have often had occasion
+to observe in the course of our experience. A deed of gift—pure and
+simple—is a document under seal evidencing the fact that certain
+property specified therein has been absolutely given by the donor to
+the donee, without any reservation for the benefit of the former,
+or any power for him to revoke the gift or resume possession of the
+property in any circumstances. If the deed contains a condition that
+the donor shall have the enjoyment of the property during his life, and
+that he shall have a right to recall the gift thereby made, and dispose
+of the property in some other way, then the document is to all intents
+and purposes a will; and if it is only executed and attested as an
+ordinary deed, it is altogether void, in consequence of non-compliance
+with the directions contained in the Wills Act, 1837, which very
+properly requires more precautions against fraud and forgery in the
+case of a will than in the case of a deed. We say ‘very properly,’
+because the will does not take effect during the lifetime of the
+testator; and therefore the greatest safeguard is removed by his death
+before the document can be acted upon or its authenticity be likely to
+be questioned. This is a common oversight. The deed is prepared and
+duly stamped; and in consequence of the insertion of the powers alluded
+to above, it proves to be utterly useless, when, after the decease of
+the donor, his property is claimed by his heir-at-law and next of kin
+because of his having died intestate. It may occasion some surprise
+that any solicitor will prepare a deed which he knows cannot stand
+the test of litigation; but this is not altogether the fault of the
+profession. In many cases, the danger is pointed out; but if the donor
+is determined to dispose of his own property in his own way, who can
+gainsay him? If he cannot get what he requires in one office, he will
+go to another; and we have several times lost clients in consequence
+of our refusal to prepare such a deed; all our arguments being met by
+the reply that there would be no duties to pay to the government if
+the deed were executed; a complete fallacy in many cases, as we have
+afterwards had occasion to know, when we have seen what followed the
+decease of the misguided donor.
+
+On the other hand, if there is a genuine gift, and possession is
+given in accordance with the deed, what then? One case which came
+under our notice may illustrate the danger against which we have
+frequently protested in vain. A retired merchant invested the whole
+of his savings in a freehold estate which would produce sufficient
+annual income to supply all his wants and leave a good margin for
+future accumulations. Being a widower, in somewhat infirm health,
+he took up his residence in the house of his younger son, the elder
+being an irreclaimable reprobate. Unfortunately, the wife of this
+younger son was an artful and avaricious woman, whose sole reason for
+consenting to the arrangement as to residence was the hope of future
+gain. The old gentleman had an insurmountable objection to making a
+will—not an uncommon weakness—as it reminded him too forcibly of the
+time when he would have to leave his fine estate and go over to the
+great majority. At length, after urgent and repeated representations
+as to the risk of his estate being sold by his dissipated heir-at-law
+in case of his dying intestate, he was persuaded to execute a deed
+of gift to his younger son, to whom at the same time he handed the
+title-deeds relating to the estate. Soon afterwards, a quarrel arose
+between the donor and his daughter-in-law; and the latter persuaded her
+husband—whose moral principles were as weak as those of his brother,
+though in a different way—to sell the estate, and then turn his father
+out of his house. After his ignominious dismissal, the poor old
+gentleman went to the house of a nephew, who soon tired of supporting
+him; and eventually he was obliged to go into the workhouse, altogether
+neglected to the time of his death by all his relatives, except his
+graceless elder son; and alas! he could not assist his aged parent, as
+he was himself almost destitute. This may appear to be an extreme case;
+but it is not a solitary one, although it is one of the worst of those
+which have come under our own observation.
+
+This brief narrative may serve as an introduction to the explanation
+of one remarkable peculiarity in the practical working of a deed of
+gift of real estate. Personal property may of course be sold, and
+the sale completed by delivery of the goods or other chattels to the
+purchaser; but actual possession of land is no clue to the ownership
+thereof, the title being evidenced by deeds in the general way, the
+exceptions being those cases in which land has descended to the heir in
+consequence of the intestacy of the former owner; and also those cases
+in which long-continued possession has given an impregnable title to a
+person who was originally a mere trespasser, or at the most a tenant
+whose landlord has been lost sight of. When the freehold estate above
+mentioned was given away and the gift was evidenced by deed and actual
+possession, the donor lost the power of again giving it away either by
+deed or by his will. But he might have sold the property if he could
+have found a purchaser willing to complete without actual possession
+of the title-deeds; which, however, he might afterwards have recovered
+from the holder thereof; the reason for this being, that where there
+are two inconsistent titles, both derived from the same person, but
+one depending upon an actual sale and payment by the purchaser of the
+price agreed upon, while the other rests upon no better foundation
+than a mere voluntary act on the part of the donor, the title of the
+purchaser will prevail, because of the valuable consideration which he
+has paid; while the other person has paid nothing. On the other hand,
+if the donee, before he is dispossessed or his title superseded by a
+conveyance for value, were to sell the property, and if the sale were
+completed and the purchase-money paid, the donor would have lost his
+right to sell. Having placed the donee in a position to make a good
+title to the property, he must take the consequences of his own folly.
+We once had the pleasure of saving for the benefit of the vendor the
+value of an estate which he had previously given away; greatly to the
+astonishment of the donee, who supposed himself to be safely possessed
+of the whole estate.
+
+It will be understood that our remarks have no application to marriage
+settlements or similar documents in which extensive though limited
+powers of appointment are generally reserved to the settler, the power
+extending over the whole estate or a specified part thereof; while the
+persons to be the beneficiaries are strictly defined; and powers are
+also given to him to direct the payment of portions to his younger
+children, and to charge them upon the estate which is comprised in the
+settlement. This is the legitimate way in which a landed proprietor
+can provide for his family; and the only serious objection which has
+ever been made thereto is that it has a tendency to perpetuate the
+descent of the estates, instead of their distribution and subdivision
+into smaller properties. But these documents are beyond the scope of
+this paper. What we strongly object to are voluntary deeds of gift,
+which are generally made for the purpose of avoiding the payment of
+legacy and succession duty, but lead too frequently to disastrous
+consequences. They are beneficial to the legal profession, often
+leading to costly and harassing litigation; but to the intended
+recipients of the bounty of the donor, and sometimes to the donor
+himself, they are in a corresponding degree injurious.
+
+Attention may here be called to the provisions of the Customs and
+Inland Revenue Act, 1881, on the subject of voluntary gifts of personal
+property made for the purpose of avoiding the payment of the duties
+accruing due on the death of the owner of personal estate. By this
+Act, duty is payable at the like rates as the ordinary probate duty
+on voluntary gifts which may have been made by any person dying after
+1st June 1881, whether such gift may have been made in contemplation
+of approaching death or otherwise, if the donor has not lived three
+calendar months afterwards; or by voluntarily causing property to be
+transferred to or vested in himself and some other person jointly, so
+as to give such other person benefit of survivorship; or by deed or
+other instrument not taking effect as a will, whereby an interest
+is reserved to the donor for life, or whereby he may have reserved
+to himself the right, by the exercise of any power, to reclaim the
+absolute interest in such property. This enactment removes the last
+argument in favour of deeds of gift, for they do not now have the
+effect of avoiding the payment of probate duty; and in any event, since
+19th May 1853, succession duty has always been payable in respect of
+the benefit acquired by the successor by reason of the decease of his
+predecessor in title. The case of a voluntary settlement in respect of
+which the stamp duty has been paid is provided for by a direction that
+on production of such deed duly stamped, the stamp duty thereon may be
+returned. Personal estate includes leasehold property.
+
+With respect to wills, the position is very different. Every man who
+has any property of any kind ought to make a will, especially if he
+desires his property to be distributed in any way different from the
+mode prescribed by law in case of his intestacy. Many cases occur in
+which the neglect to make a will is not only foolish but positively
+wrong. A husband has a duty to perform towards his wife which cannot be
+omitted without culpability; and the same may be said of the duty of a
+parent to his children. As to the former, there is a danger which is
+often unsuspected by the owner of real estate. The law provides that
+on the death of such a person intestate, leaving a widow, she shall
+be entitled to dower out of such estate; that is to say, one-third of
+the rents thereof during the remainder of her life; but this right to
+dower is subject to any disposition which the owner of the estate may
+have made thereof, or any charges which he may have created thereon.
+In England, there is no inalienable share of property which the widow
+and children can claim, even as against the devisee, as is the case in
+Scotland. But there is a power to bar the right of the widow to her
+dower by means of a declaration to that effect in the conveyance to
+a purchaser, or in any deed subsequently executed by him relating to
+the property. It must be observed that the declaration in bar of dower
+is not necessary for the purpose of creating charges upon the estate,
+because dower is expressly made subject to such charges. But if the
+declaration has been inserted in the conveyance—without the knowledge
+of the purchaser—his widow will have no claim to any provision out of
+such estate unless it shall be made for her by the will of her husband,
+who, in ignorance of the necessity for making a will, dies intestate,
+thus leaving his widow dependent upon his heir-at-law; in numerous
+cases, a distant relative, who is not disposed to acknowledge that the
+widow of his predecessor has any claim upon him.
+
+Again, as to his children, the possessor of real estate ought not to
+forget that in the case of freehold property it will descend upon
+his eldest son as heir-at-law; thus leaving his younger sons and his
+daughters unprovided for except as to their respective shares of his
+personal estate, which may be of small value, or even insufficient
+for the payment of his debts. If the property should be copyhold, it
+would descend to the customary heir, who might be the eldest son, the
+youngest son, or all the sons as tenants in common in equal undivided
+shares; but in any event, the daughters would remain unprovided for.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] It should be understood that this series of articles deals
+mainly with English as apart from Scotch law.
+
+
+
+
+A DEAD SHOT.
+
+AN INCIDENT IN 1801.
+
+
+The following singular story is perhaps worth putting on record because
+the narrative is strictly true.
+
+In the year 1801, a fine old Jacobean house, known as Chatford House,
+situated on the borders of Devon and Somerset, was in the occupation
+of a Mr Edward Leggett, a wealthy farmer, and his two sons. The
+house, like many of its class, had originally been built so that
+its ground-plan formed the letter [Illustration: E], a centre, with
+projecting doorway, and two wings; but one wing had been taken down
+altogether, as well as a portion of the other, so that the ground-plan
+became thereby altered and took this form, [Illustration: E with
+the top bar removed], the centre doorway remaining untouched. This
+should be remembered, in order to understand the circumstances of
+the principal incident of the narrative. Over the projecting doorway
+was a room which went by the name of the ‘Oratory,’ probably on
+account of its large projecting bay window, which gave it somewhat
+of an ecclesiastical appearance, and from this window a view could
+be obtained on all sides. The small part of the wing which was left
+standing was used as storerooms, and access from the outside was gained
+by a small door, which had been injudiciously opened in the corner, or
+angle, when the alterations were made.
+
+Mr Leggett possessed a large quantity of very fine old massive
+silver-plate, which was placed in one of the storerooms, strongly
+secured and locked, in the remains of the wing referred to. It was
+supposed that he had also a considerable sum of money locked up with
+the plate, as banking was not so common in remote country-places in
+those days.
+
+Now it happened that, on the 23d of April 1801, Mr Leggett and his
+two sons had to attend a neighbouring cattle fair, and had proposed
+to sleep in the town, instead of returning home the same night; but,
+a good customer having arranged to complete a purchase early the next
+morning, Mr Leggett’s eldest son, George, came back to Chatford very
+late and went quietly to bed; but the worry of the fair, and anxiety
+about to-morrow’s purchase, prevented him sleeping. His bedroom was
+at the end of the house, close to the store wing, and just above
+the little door in the angle already mentioned. Whilst restlessly
+tossing about from side to side, young Leggett heard the house clock
+strike two, and just after became aware of a peculiar grating noise,
+apparently under his window. To jump up and cautiously and silently
+open the casement was the work of a minute. It was a cloudy moonlight
+night, just light enough to show objects imperfectly, but enough for
+George Leggett to observe the figures of two men close to the little
+door in the angle immediately below, on which they were apparently
+operating with some cutting tool, which had produced the grating noise
+he had heard. George, who was a young man of great intelligence,
+quick judgment, and ready resource, instantly comprehending the
+situation, took his measures accordingly. He happened to be a member
+of the county yeomanry cavalry; and catching up his carabine and
+some ball cartridges, he silently left his room, and proceeding down
+the corridor—loading his carabine as he went along—soon reached the
+‘Oratory’ room over the porch, whence he could see straight down on to
+the little door, which was then right in front of him. Silently opening
+the casement, he made a careful survey of the position, which a passing
+ray of moonlight enabled him to take in at a glance.
+
+At the little white-painted door were the two men, whose dark figures
+were well thrown up by so light a background. One was stooping
+or kneeling, and the other was standing close behind him, their
+backs, of course, being turned towards their observer. Putting his
+carabine on full-cock and laying it carefully on the window-sill,
+after a deliberate aim, Leggett pressed the trigger. A loud shriek
+and a stifled cry followed, then all was still. Leggett stood
+intently watching the spot for several moments; but profound silence
+prevailed—not a sound was heard, not a movement was perceptible. The
+only other man in the house was the groom, who was quickly roused; and
+lanterns having been procured, he and Leggett repaired to the spot, and
+were not a little staggered to find both burglars lying dead. The hand
+of one of them still grasped a very large steel centre-bit, with which
+he had been operating on the door. Subsequent surgical investigation
+showed that the bullet had struck the back of the first man, passing
+through his heart, and had then entered the head of the man who was
+stooping or kneeling in front of him, just behind the ear, lodging
+in the brain. The bodies were at once removed in-doors; and at the
+inquest, held the next day, the following particulars were elicited:
+
+By the side of the dead men was found a leather travelling portmanteau,
+containing a highly finished and elaborate set of housebreaking tools,
+together with a piece of candle and a preparation of phosphorus for
+obtaining a light, as it is needless to say that lucifer matches were
+unknown in 1801, their place being supplied by the old-fashioned flint
+and steel and tinder-box, articles not available for burglars’ use.
+Each man was armed with a brace of pocket pistols, loaded and primed;
+and one of them carried a formidable-looking dagger, fitted into the
+breast of his coat; clearly showing that these ruffians were prepared
+to offer a desperate resistance, if interrupted or molested. They were
+both well dressed, and had quite the appearance of gentlemen. Each
+possessed a good watch and seals, and carried a well-filled purse. One
+only had a pocket-book, containing many papers, chiefly relating to
+money matters and betting transactions; but only one letter, which,
+however, proved of immense importance in throwing light on the lives
+and characters of the deceased burglars, and in telling the story of
+the attempted robbery. The letter was directed to ‘Mr John Bellamy,’
+at an address in Shoreditch, London, and was dated from Roxburn, the
+name of a large neighbouring farm, and bore the initials ‘J. P.,’
+which, with the writing, were at once recognised at the inquest as
+those of ‘James Palmer,’ the managing bailiff at Roxburn Farm, a clever
+and unscrupulous fellow, without any regard for truth or principle,
+well known in those parts, but a man whom nobody liked and everybody
+distrusted. This communication was in these few but significant words:
+‘The 23d will do best; coast clear, no fear, all straight.—J. P.’
+
+This letter, with the tools and a full report of the whole case, was
+at once sent to Bow Street, London, and an investigation made by the
+‘Bow Street runners’—the detectives of those days—for there were then
+no regular ‘police,’ as we now understand the term. On searching the
+premises in Shoreditch, indicated in the letter, where John Bellamy
+lived, it was discovered that the supposed John Bellamy was no other
+than ‘Jack Rolfe,’ one of the most successful professional burglars
+of that day; and the authorities hesitated not to express their
+satisfaction that his career had been so cleverly cut short.
+
+An immense quantity of stolen property, of almost every description,
+was found at Rolfe’s lodgings in Shoreditch; and what was more
+important—as regards the present narrative at least—a correspondence
+extending over three or four years between Mr James Palmer of Roxburn
+Farm and the arch-burglar John Bellamy, alias Jack Rolfe himself, by
+which it appeared that this robbery had been planned and arranged by
+Palmer, who had supplied Rolfe with the fullest information as to
+Mr Leggett’s plate and money, as well as a neatly drawn plan of the
+premises, which was found amongst the papers. Palmer had also arranged
+the date of the robbery for the 23d of April, as he had discovered
+that Mr Leggett and his two sons intended to sleep out that night. Nor
+was this all; for only a few weeks previously, the rascal had had the
+effrontery to invite Rolfe to pay him a visit at Roxburn, under colour
+of his being a personal friend, which invitation Rolfe had readily
+accepted; and one of the witnesses at the inquest well remembered
+his coming, and at once recognised him in one of the dead men—he of
+the centre-bit. Rolfe was described as a quiet, pleasant, and rather
+gentlemanly man.
+
+Not far from Mr Leggett’s gate, a light cart and pony were found
+tethered early in the morning of the attempted robbery. The cart had
+been hired from a neighbouring market-town to convey the thieves to
+the scene of operations, and to bring them back with—as they fondly
+anticipated—a sackful of rich plunder. They had been staying a day or
+two at this inn as commercial travellers, calling themselves brothers,
+and giving the name of Sutton.
+
+On the evidence afforded by the correspondence found in Shoreditch,
+Palmer was apprehended; and further investigation brought out the fact
+that the notorious Jack Rolfe was not only his friend, correspondent,
+and accomplice, but his own brother also, Rolfe being merely an ‘alias’
+for his real name of Palmer. The two men were very much alike both in
+face and figure; and it came out in evidence that they belonged to a
+family of burglars and sharpers. One brother had been transported for
+life for robbery and violence; another was then in prison for fraud
+and theft; James had just been apprehended; and John had been shot
+dead whilst plying his trade. James appeared to have been the only
+member who had held a respectable position—that of manager of Roxburn
+Farm, and he could not keep away from dishonest practices. It was also
+further discovered that Palmer had been an accomplice in two or three
+mysterious burglaries which had been perpetrated in the neighbourhood
+during the two or three previous years, in which the thieves had
+displayed an accurate knowledge—even to minute details—of the premises
+attacked, the habits of the inmates, and the drawers or closets where
+valuables were kept. All this was due to the planning and arranging of
+the brother James, who could at his leisure quietly take his measures
+on the spot; which were then carefully communicated to his brother
+John, who ultimately became the willing executant. Palmer was shortly
+after brought to trial, convicted, and sentenced to fourteen years’
+transportation.
+
+The verdict of the coroner’s jury was ‘justifiable homicide;’ for in
+those days of desperate and well-armed burglars, the shooting of one
+or two of these gentry, whilst in the act of plying their nefarious
+calling, was considered not only a clever but a meritorious action.
+
+
+
+
+THE EVIDENCE OF THE SENSES.
+
+
+The senses are the witnesses which bring in evidence from the outer
+world, without which that world would for us have no existence at
+all; but the mind sits aloft on the judgment-seat and forms its
+conclusions from the evidence laid before it; and these conclusions
+are for the most part wonderfully correct; for, though the testimony
+of one sense alone might lead the mind to form an erroneous opinion,
+this can be rectified by discovering what one or more of the other
+senses have to say on the same subject. When, however—as sometimes
+happens under peculiar circumstances—the evidence of one sense only is
+available, the mind may very readily arrive at a false conclusion. As
+an instance of this may be cited what is often observed by surgeons in
+cases of hip-joint disease. The patient, usually a child, complains
+of severe pain in the knee, which, however, has not, so far as can be
+ascertained, been injured in any way. Very likely, the pain is severe
+enough to prevent sleep at night, so that there can be no doubt about
+its existence, and it may perhaps have been almost continuous for some
+time past. Now, in such a case the surgeon will have a shrewd suspicion
+of what is really amiss, and very often will at once proceed to examine
+the hip. This he will do, too, in spite of assurances on the part of
+the parents that the patient always complains of the knee and of that
+joint only. He does not doubt that the pain feels as if it was in the
+knee, but he strongly suspects, nevertheless, that the disease is in
+the hip; and this often proves to be the case. This is an instance of
+what is called ‘referred sensation.’ The nerve which conveys sensation
+from the knee also sends a branch to the hip-joint, and it is this
+anatomical fact which explains the phenomenon. It might be expected
+that even if the pain was not felt solely in the hip, it would at least
+be always felt there as well as in the knee. This, however, though
+sometimes the case, is by no means always so. In this instance, the
+patient comes not unnaturally to the conclusion that where he feels
+the pain, there the cause of the pain must of necessity be situated.
+He would be quite ready to declare that there was nothing the matter
+with his hip, for he cannot see into the joint and discover the disease
+there. He has, in fact, to depend upon the evidence of one sense only,
+and the conclusion based upon the evidence of the single sensation of
+pain, is false.
+
+Another instance in which the testimony of one sense alone may lead
+to a false conclusion as to the whereabouts of the cause of a pain is
+found in what often takes place after the amputation of a limb. Most
+people are aware that after part of a limb has been removed by the
+surgeon’s knife, the patient may still feel as though his arm or leg,
+as the case may be, was entire, may feel much pain in the foot when the
+leg has been amputated far above the ankle. Here, in recovering from
+the effects of the anæsthetic, were it not for the additional evidence
+of his eyesight, the patient might well doubt whether his limb had been
+removed at all. The amusing story, in Marryat’s _Jacob Faithful_, of
+the old sailor who, having two wooden legs, was accustomed at times
+to wrap them up in flannel on account of the rheumatic pains which he
+said he felt in them, is not so very extravagant after all. It is not,
+however, altogether correct, as it represents the man feeling these
+pains in his legs _long_ after they had been amputated. As a matter of
+fact, the false impression passes off before very long. The explanation
+given by physiologists is as follows: The severed nerve in the stump
+is irritated and gives rise to pain; and inasmuch as irritation to
+this nerve-trunk has hitherto been always caused by irritation of its
+ultimate filaments distributed to the foot and leg, the mind continues
+for some time to believe that the sensation still proceeds from thence.
+
+We may glance at another and very similar instance of referred
+sensations occurring also in surgical practice. Amongst the rarer
+operations of what is termed plastic, and, by Sir James Paget,
+‘decorative’ surgery is that by which a new nose is formed by calling
+in the aid of the tissue of other parts of the body. This has been
+done by bringing a flap of skin cut from the forehead down over the
+nasal bones. The flap retains its connection with the deeper tissues
+at a point between the eyes by means of a small pedicle, and thus its
+blood-vessels and nerves are not all severed. This flap is not simply
+pulled down from the forehead—it is twisted at the pedicle, so that
+the raw surface lies on the bones of the nose. Now, for some time
+after this operation has been performed, any irritation in the nose is
+referred by the mind to that part of the forehead from which the flap
+of skin was taken; and therefore, if a fly crawls over the patient’s
+nose, it appears to him to be creeping across his forehead. Before the
+operation, whenever the nerve-ends in the flap were irritated, it was
+caused by something touching the forehead, and it is some time before
+the mind ceases to refer such irritation to that part of the face.
+
+Leaving, now, the domain of surgery, we may notice two simple
+experiments mentioned by physiologists, which all can perform for
+themselves. They both prove that conclusions formed upon the evidence
+of the sense of touch alone may be quite incorrect. By crossing the
+second finger over the first, and then placing a marble between the
+tips of the fingers, we get a sensation that leads us to suppose that
+there must be two marbles instead of one only. This is because two
+points in the fingers are touched simultaneously, which in the ordinary
+position could only be touched at the same moment by two marbles.
+Judging, then, from the sense of touch alone, the mind infers that
+there are two round hard substances beneath the finger-tips; but the
+evidence of eyesight and the knowledge that we have placed but one
+marble in position, corrects the misapprehension. Again, if we take a
+pair of compasses the points of which are not sufficiently sharp to
+prick the skin, and separating the extremities rather more than an inch
+from one another, draw them across the cheek transversely from a little
+in front of one ear to the lips, we shall be tempted to think, from
+the evidence of touch alone, that the points are becoming more widely
+separated. By measuring the distance between the two points afterwards,
+we can assure ourselves that this has not been so; but whilst the
+compasses were being drawn along the cheek, and still more when they
+had reached the lips, the impression that the distance between the
+points increased was very strong. This delusion is said to depend upon
+the fact, that some parts of the cutaneous covering of the body are
+much more plentifully supplied with nerves than others. It is stated
+that the mind probably forms its idea of the distance between two
+points on the skin which are irritated in any way—as, for instance, by
+the points of a pair of compasses touching the surface—by the number of
+nerve-endings lying between these two points which remain unirritated.
+Thus, if there be fewer unirritated nerve-endings lying between the
+two points of the compasses when placed on the cheek, than there are
+when they are placed at the lips, the mind will infer that the distance
+between these points is smaller in the former position than in the
+latter.
+
+
+
+
+THE STATE’S NEGLECT OF DENTISTRY.
+
+
+The machinery of the State is so vast that it may well be imperfect
+here and there. It frequently falls to the lot of individuals to
+point out how the tide of progress has left details in a condition
+of inefficiency. We note a recent instance of this. In August last,
+at the annual meeting of the British Dental Association, Mr George
+Cunningham, one of its members, drew attention to the backwardness of
+the practice of dentistry in the various departments of the State.
+The substance of his case amounted to this: In the army and navy,
+unskilled practitioners wielded uncouth and inefficient instruments
+in following antiquated and unscientific methods; while the police
+force and the employees of the India and Post offices by no means
+derived the full advantages of this department of medical science. Mr
+Cunningham was bold enough to include the inmates of prisons among
+those whose interests were neglected; and of course the principle
+of the humane treatment of criminals is already conceded in the
+appointment of jail chaplains and surgeons. We need not enter here into
+the voluminous details with which Mr Cunningham substantiated his case.
+The broad conclusions he would seem to draw are these: that the medical
+practitioner employed by the State should possess a more thorough
+knowledge of dentistry; that, where necessary, the services of the
+completely trained and qualified dentist should be secured; and that
+full resort should be had to the remedial resources of dental science.
+Seeing the suffering caused by diseases of the teeth, and the subtle
+and intimate connection existing between dental and other maladies, we
+trust Mr Cunningham’s paper may receive the consideration it would seem
+to deserve.
+
+
+
+
+THE BOARD OF TRADE JOURNAL.
+
+
+Persons wishing to keep up their information on subjects connected with
+trade and changes in foreign tariffs may do so by consulting the _Board
+of Trade Journal_, the first numbers of which have just been issued.
+An attempt is also made in this journal to give the public information
+as to trade movements abroad, from the communications of the different
+consuls and colonial governors. Some of the periodical statistical
+returns of the Board of Trade will also be included from time to time.
+Such a journal deserves the support of all merchants and manufacturers
+at all interested in our foreign trade. Formerly, the commercial
+Reports from Her Majesty’s representatives abroad did not see the
+light for months, or perhaps a year, after they were received; now,
+these have some chance of being really useful to persons interested in
+foreign trade and to the community at large.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE’S SEASONS.
+
+
+    Love came to my heart with the earliest swallow,
+      The lark’s blithe matins and breath of Spring;
+    With hyacinth-bell and with budding sallow,
+      And all the promise the year could bring.
+
+    Love dwelt in my heart while the Summer roses
+      Poured forth their incense on every hand;
+    And from wood and meadow and garden-closes
+      The sweet bird-voices made glad the land.
+
+    Love grew in my heart to its full fruition
+      When Autumn lavished her gifts untold,
+    And answered earth’s myriad-voiced petition
+      With orchard-treasure and harvest-gold.
+
+    Love waned in my heart when the snows were shaken
+      From Winter’s hand o’er the rose’s bed;
+    And never again shall my soul awaken
+      At Hope’s glad summons—for Love lies dead.
+
+            W. P. W.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON,
+and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_All Rights Reserved._
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75449 ***
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+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75449 ***</div>
+
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<h1>CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL<br>
+OF<br>
+POPULAR<br>
+LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART.</h1>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">
+<a href="#NOTES_ON_THE_NEW_HEBRIDES">NOTES ON THE NEW HEBRIDES.</a><br>
+<a href="#BY_ORDER_OF_THE_LEAGUE">BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE.</a><br>
+<a href="#FOUNDLING_QUOTATIONS">FOUNDLING QUOTATIONS.</a><br>
+<a href="#MISS_MASTERMANS_DISCOVERY">MISS MASTERMAN’S DISCOVERY.</a><br>
+<a href="#POPULAR_LEGAL_FALLACIES1">POPULAR LEGAL FALLACIES.</a><br>
+<a href="#A_DEAD_SHOT">A DEAD SHOT.</a><br>
+<a href="#THE_EVIDENCE_OF_THE_SENSES">THE EVIDENCE OF THE SENSES.</a><br>
+<a href="#THE_STATES_NEGLECT_OF_DENTISTRY">THE STATE’S NEGLECT OF DENTISTRY.</a><br>
+<a href="#THE_BOARD_OF_TRADE_JOURNAL">THE BOARD OF TRADE JOURNAL.</a><br>
+<a href="#LOVES_SEASONS">LOVE’S SEASONS.</a><br>
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_705">{705}</span></p>
+
+
+<hr class="full">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="figcenter" id="header" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/header.jpg"  alt="Chambers’s Journal of Popular Literature, Science,
+and Art. Fifth Series. Established by William and Robert Chambers, 1832. Conducted by R. Chambers (Secundus).">
+</div>
+
+<hr class="full">
+<div class="center">
+<div class="header">
+<p class="floatl"><span class="smcap">No. 149.—Vol. III.</span></p>
+<p class="floatr"><span class="smcap">Price</span> 1½<em>d.</em></p>
+<p class="floatc">SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1886.</p>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<hr class="full">
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="NOTES_ON_THE_NEW_HEBRIDES">NOTES ON THE NEW HEBRIDES.</h2></div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is a wide contrast between the Hebrides
+of Scotland and the New Hebrides of the Western
+Pacific; but both have come into a good deal
+of prominence of late—the one in connection
+with the crofters, the other in connection with
+the French. It is of the New Hebrides we
+propose to say something.</p>
+
+<p>The group of islands forming part of Melanesia
+to which the name of New Hebrides has been
+given extends for about seven hundred miles. The
+most northern of the group is about one hundred
+miles from the Santa Cruz Islands, and the most
+southern about two hundred miles from New
+Caledonia. Espiritu Santo is the largest and most
+northerly of the group, and is about seventy-five
+miles long by forty miles broad. The next largest
+island is called Mallicolo, and is fifty-six miles
+long by twenty miles broad. The entire land
+area of the group may be taken as about five
+thousand square miles; and the population of the
+whole group has been estimated variously from
+fifty thousand to two hundred thousand. But
+whatever the total population, the peoples probably
+sprung from one original stock, although
+they have drifted far apart in the matter of
+language. There are said to be no fewer than
+thirty different languages in the New Hebridean
+group—all having a certain grammatical likeness,
+but quite unintelligible to the other islanders.
+The difference is not merely such as exists
+between Scotch, Irish, and Welsh Gaelic; it is
+a more marked division of tongues.</p>
+
+<p>The inhabitants vary nearly as much as their
+languages. Although distinctly Papuan, there
+are traits and traces of Polynesian intermixture
+and even of separate Polynesian settlement.
+Thus, on Vaté, the men are taller, fairer, and
+better-looking than those on some of the other
+islands, the more generally prevailing type being
+one of extreme ugliness and short stature. They
+all are, or have been, cannibals; but on Aneityum
+they are now supposed to be all Christianised.</p>
+
+<p>Aneityum, or Anateum, or Anatom—for it is
+spelt in all three ways—is within two hundred
+miles of the nearest point in New Caledonia,
+and within five hundred miles of Fiji. It has
+a spacious, well-sheltered harbour, which is easy
+of access, and is throughout well wooded and
+watered. The general character of the island is
+mountainous; and there is an agreeable diversity
+of hill and valley, the mountains being intersected
+by deep ravines, and cultivated spots
+alternating with barren tracts. The principal
+wealth of this island is in its timber, of which
+the kauri pine appears to be the chief; but there
+is also a good deal of valuable sandal-wood.
+Some years ago, an attempt was made to establish
+a whale-fishery off the shores of Aneityum;
+but we have not heard with what result. The
+length of this island is about fourteen miles,
+and its breadth about eight. The climate,
+although damp, is not disagreeable, and is not
+marked by great variations. The thermometer
+seldom goes below sixty-two degrees, and never
+below fifty-eight degrees; but, on the other
+hand, it never goes above ninety-four degrees,
+and seldom above eighty-nine degrees in the
+shade.</p>
+
+<p>Aneityum deserves especial mention because the
+whole population is understood now to profess
+Christianity. That population in 1865 was stated
+by Mr Brenchley to be two thousand two hundred,
+and it has not probably increased much,
+if any, since then. Previous to 1850, the natives
+of Aneityum were as degraded and savage as on
+any island of the Pacific; but two missionaries
+who settled there about the date mentioned began
+to work a steady and continuous change.</p>
+
+<p>The Aneityum people do not live in villages,
+but separately in the midst of their cultivated
+patches, which are divided into districts, each
+containing about sixty. The government is in
+the hands of chiefs, of whom there are three
+principal, each having a number of petty chiefs
+under them. But their power appears limited.</p>
+
+<p>Aneityum, like the other islands of the New
+Hebrides, is of volcanic origin, and it is surrounded
+by coral reefs. No minerals have been
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_706">{706}</span>found; and in this connection it is worthy of
+remark that Australians insist that there is
+a much closer natural affinity between the New
+Hebrides and Fiji than there is between the
+New Hebrides and New Caledonia, which is an
+island rich in minerals. Mr Brenchley enumerates
+the principal indigenous products of Aneityum
+as bread-fruit, banana, cocoa-nut, horse-chestnut,
+sago-palm, another species of palm bearing small
+nuts, sugar-cane, taro—the staple article of food—yams
+in small quantities, sweet-potatoes, and
+arrowroot. Of fruits, &amp;c., introduced, the orange,
+lime, lemon, citron, pine-apple, custard-apple,
+papaw-apple, melons, and pumpkins, have succeeded.
+The cotton plant had also been introduced,
+and promised well; and French beans
+were grown for the Sydney market. There
+are more than a hundred species of ferns on the
+island, and more than a hundred species of
+fish in the waters surrounding it. But the fish
+are not all edible, and besides being different
+from, are inferior to those found in the northern
+hemisphere. The birds are not very numerous;
+but butterflies and insects abound, in the
+case of the latter the list being lengthened
+by the importation of fleas by Europeans.
+Among themselves, the natives barter fishing-baskets,
+nets, sleeping-mats, hand-baskets, pigs,
+fowls, taro, and cocoa-nuts. With foreigners,
+they barter pigs, fowls, taro, bananas, cocoa-nuts,
+sugar-cane, &amp;c., for European clothing, hatchets,
+knives, fish-hooks, and so forth. Their weapons
+are spears, clubs, bows and arrows—the spears
+being rude and very crooked.</p>
+
+<p>Of Tanna, another of the southern division
+of the group, many interesting notes have been
+left by Mr Brenchley and Dr Turner. It is
+about forty or fifty miles from Aneityum, and
+has a somewhat narrow anchorage, called Port
+Resolution Bay. On the west side of this bay
+there is a large and preternaturally active volcano,
+which pulsates in a regular sequence of eruptions
+at intervals of five, seven, or ten minutes, night
+and day, all the year round. The regularity of
+the eruptions is supposed to be caused by the
+influx of water into the volcano from a lake
+which lies at its base. Tanna is nearly circular,
+and between thirty-five and forty miles across.
+It is covered with lofty hills, bright with
+verdure.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Brenchley stated the population at fifteen
+to twenty thousand; but Dr Turner placed it
+at only ten or twelve thousand; and Turner,
+who resided for some months on the island, is
+likely to be nearer the mark. The people are
+of middle stature, and of a copper colour naturally,
+although some of them are as black as
+New Hollanders, through artificial dyeing of
+their skins. They are rather better-looking than
+average Papuans, but make themselves hideous
+with red paint. The men frizzle their hair,
+which is oftener light-brown than black in
+colour; the women wear the hair short, but
+‘laid out in a forest of little erect curls about
+an inch and a half long.’ They pierce the septum
+of the nose, and insert horizontally a small piece
+of wood; and in their ears they wear huge
+ornaments of tortoise-shell. They do not tattoo.
+The women wear long girdles, hanging to the
+knee, made of the dried fibre of banana stalks;
+and the men wear an unsightly waistcloth of
+matting. Their weapons are clubs, bows and
+arrows, and spears, with which they are very
+expert, and they always work and sleep with
+their weapons by their sides. They are, in fact—or
+were, when Dr Turner lived among them—a
+race of warriors, for the tribes were incessantly
+at war with each other. ‘We were never able,’
+says Dr Turner, ‘to extend our journeys above
+four miles from our dwelling at Port Resolution.
+At such distances we came to boundaries which
+were never passed, and beyond which the people
+spoke a different dialect. At one of these
+boundaries, actual war would be going on; at
+another, kidnapping and cooking each other; and
+at another, all might be peace, but, by mutual
+consent, they had no dealings with each other....
+When visiting the volcano one day, the natives
+told us about a battle in which one party which
+was pursued ran right into the crater, and there
+fought for a while on the downward slope inside
+the cup!’</p>
+
+<p>The climate of Tanna is damp for four months
+of the year, when fever and ague are common;
+but it is agreeable during the remainder of
+the year; and the average annual temperature
+is about eighty-six degrees. The soil, on account
+of the volcanic origin, is extremely fertile, and
+there are a number of boiling springs.</p>
+
+<p>Erromango, to the north of Tanna, is celebrated
+for its massacres of missionaries and white settlers,
+and it was here that Mr Williams was murdered
+many years ago. This island is covered with
+dense vegetation down to the very water’s edge.
+It contains a great deal of fine timber, such
+as sandal-wood, kauri pine, &amp;c. The population
+was estimated at about five thousand by both
+Mr Brenchley and Dr Turner. The people are
+very much like the Tannese, but are without
+any settled villages or considerable chiefs. The
+Erromangan women tattoo the upper part of
+their bodies, and wear leaf-girdles hanging from
+waist to heel; but the men prefer nudity.
+Neither infanticide nor euthanasia seems to prevail
+here, but the sick are not particularly well
+cared for. Dr Turner traced a belief in witchcraft
+and some belief in a future state. The
+spirits of the dead are supposed to go eastward,
+and some are thought to roam about in the
+bush.</p>
+
+<p>Vaté or Sandwich Island, still to the north,
+is another interesting member of the group. It
+has attracted many Australians and others, who
+have attempted settlements, but not, we believe,
+with success as yet. Dr Turner calls it a ‘lovely
+island’—although, whether it compares with the
+island of Aurora, one of the most northerly of
+the group, which Mr Walter Coote says is a
+perfect earthly paradise, we cannot tell. Vaté,
+at anyrate, is very lovely, and seems to be of
+coral formation. Its size is about one hundred
+miles in circumference, and its population perhaps,
+ten thousand—although Dr Turner said twelve
+thousand. There is no general king, but a large
+number of petty chiefs. The people are more
+fully clothed than those of the other islands we
+have referred to; they do not tattoo—they only
+paint the face in war; they wear trinkets and
+armlets; and they live in regular villages. There
+are several dialects, but not such diversity as in
+Tanna. They do not fight so much as the
+Tannese; but have clubs, spears, and poisoned
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_707">{707}</span>arrows. Infanticide, unfortunately, is prevalent,
+and seems to be the consequence of the practice
+of the women having to do all the plantation
+and other hard work.</p>
+
+<p>In Vaté, they have no idols, and they say
+that the human race sprang from stones and
+the earth. The men of the stones were <i>Natamoli
+nefat</i>, and the men of the earth <i>Natamoli natana</i>.
+The native name of the island is Efat or Stone—which
+has been corrupted into Vaté. The
+principal god is Supu, who created Vaté and
+everything on it; and when a person dies, he is
+supposed to be taken away by Supu. Ancestor-worship
+is also practised, and the aged were
+often buried alive at their own request.</p>
+
+<p>The island of Vaté is high above the sea, of an
+irregular outline, and distinguished by some fine
+bold features. ‘We could see,’ says Mr Brenchley,
+‘high mountains, whose summits seemed clad
+with verdure, while the thick woods towards
+their base formed, as it were, a girdle which
+spread downwards as far as the beach.’ Ashore,
+he saw high reed-grass, wild sugar-canes ten feet
+high, and vast plantations of banana and cocoa-nut.
+The soil is of remarkable fertility; but
+the island is subject to frequent shocks of earthquake,
+sometimes very violent. The climate is
+damp, but not unhealthy. Of the natives, we
+have read differing accounts, one describing them
+as among the best, and another as among the
+worst of New Hebridean aborigines, with a remarkably
+developed and insatiable craving for
+human flesh. The happy mean is probably
+near the truth, that is to say, they are neither
+better nor worse than the rest of their race, and
+are very much as the visitor makes them.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak x-ebookmaker-important" id="BY_ORDER_OF_THE_LEAGUE">BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE.</h2>
+
+<p class="ph3">BY FRED. M. WHITE.</p></div>
+
+
+<h3 title="CHAP. XII.">IN TWENTY CHAPTERS.—CHAP. XII.</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Coolly</span>, as if the whole transaction had been
+a little light recreation, and untroubled in conscience,
+as if the fatal card had fallen to Maxwell
+by pure chance, instead of base trickery, Le
+Gautier turned his steps in the direction of
+Fitzroy Square. It was a matter of supreme
+indifference to him now whether Maxwell obeyed
+the dictum of the League or not; indeed, flat
+rebellion would have suited his purpose better,
+for in that case he would be all the sooner rid
+of; and there was just a chance that the affair
+with Visci might end favourably; whereas, on
+the other hand, a refusal would end fatally for
+the rash man who defied the League. Men can
+face open danger; it is the uncertainty, the
+blind groping in the dark, that wears body and
+mind out, unstrings the nerves, and sometimes
+unseats reason. Better fight with fearful odds,
+than walk out with the shadow of the sword
+hanging over one night and day. The inestimable
+Frenchman had seen what defiance to the
+League generally came to; and as he reviewed
+his rosy prospects, his bright thoughts lent
+additional flavour to his cigarette. Nevertheless,
+his heart beat a trifle faster as he pulled the
+bell at the quiet house in Ventnor Street.
+Adventures of this sort were nothing novel to
+him; but he had something more at stake here
+than the fortunes of the little blind boy and
+the light intrigue he looked for. Miss St Jean
+was in, he found; and he was shown up to
+her room, where he sat noting the apartment—the
+open piano, and the shaded waxlights, shining
+softly—just the proper amount of light to
+note charms by, and just dim enough to unite
+confidences. As he noted these things, he smiled,
+for Le Gautier was a connoisseur in the graceful
+art of love-making, and boasted that he could
+read women as scholars can expound abstruse
+passages of the earlier classics, or think they
+can, which pleases them equally. In such like
+case, the Frenchman was about to fall into a
+similar error, never dreaming that the artistically
+arranged room with its shaded lights was
+a trap to catch his soul. He waited impatiently
+for the coming fair one, knowing full well that
+she wished to create an impression. If such was
+her intention, she succeeded beyond expectation.</p>
+
+<p>With her magnificent hair piled up upon her
+small shapely head, and its glossy blackness
+relieved only by a single diamond star, shining
+like a planet on the bosom of the midnight
+sky, with a radiant smile upon her face, she
+came towards him. She was dressed in some
+light shimmering material, cut low upon the
+shoulders; and round the corsage was a wreath
+of deep red roses, a crimson ribbon round the
+neck, from which depended a diamond cross.
+She came forward murmuring a few well-chosen
+words, and sank into a chair, waiting for Le
+Gautier to recover.</p>
+
+<p>He had need of time to recover his scattered
+senses, for, man of the world as he was, and
+acquainted with beauty as he was, he had never
+seen anything like this before. But he was not
+the sort to be long taken aback; he raised his
+eyes to hers with a mute homage which was
+more eloquent than words. He began to feel at
+home; the dazzling loveliness threw a spell upon
+him, the delicious mystery was to his liking; and
+he was tête-à-tête.</p>
+
+<p>‘I began to think I had failed to interest
+you sufficiently last night,’ Isodore commenced,
+waving her fan slowly before her face. ‘I began
+to imagine you were not coming to take pity
+on my loneliness.’</p>
+
+<p>‘How could you dream such a thing?’ Le
+Gautier replied in his most languishing voice.
+His pulses began to beat at these last words.
+‘Did I not promise to come? I should have
+been here long since, but sordid claims of business
+detained me from your side.’</p>
+
+<p>‘It must have been pressing business,’ Isodore
+laughed archly. ‘And pray, what throne are you
+going to rock to its foundations now?’</p>
+
+<p>Had Le Gautier been a trifle less vain, he
+would have been on his guard when the conversation
+took so personal a turn; but he was flattered;
+the question betokened an interest in himself.
+‘How would it interest you?’ he asked.</p>
+
+<p>‘How do you know that it would not? Remember,
+that though I am bound by no oath, I am
+one of you. Anything connected with the League,
+anything connected with yourself, cannot fail
+to interest me.’</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_708">{708}</span></p>
+<p>The words ran through Le Gautier’s frame
+like quicksilver. He was impulsive and passionate;
+these few minutes had almost sufficed
+to seal his thraldom. He began to lose his
+head. ‘You flatter me,’ he said joyously. ‘Our
+business to-night was short; we only had to
+choose an avenging angel.’</p>
+
+<p>‘For Visci, I suppose?’ Isodore observed with
+some faint show of interest. ‘Poor man! And
+upon whom did the choice fall?’</p>
+
+<p>‘A new member, curiously enough. I do not
+know if you are acquainted with him: his name
+is Maxwell.’</p>
+
+<p>‘May he prove as true to the cause as—as you
+are. I have never had the fortune to be present
+on one of these occasions. How do you manage
+it? Do you draw lots, or do you settle it with
+dice?’</p>
+
+<p>‘On this occasion, no. We have a much fairer
+plan than that. We take a pack of cards; they
+are counted, to see if they are correct; then each
+man present shuffles them; a particular one
+represents the fatal number, and the president
+of the assembly deals them out. Whoever the
+chosen one falls to has to do the task in hand.’</p>
+
+<p>‘That, I suppose, must be fair, unless there
+is a conjurer presiding,’ Isodore observed reflectively.—‘Who
+was the president to-night?’</p>
+
+<p>‘I myself. I took my chance with the others,
+you must understand.’</p>
+
+<p>Isodore did not reply, as she sat there waving
+her fan backwards and forwards before her face.
+Le Gautier fancied that for a moment a smile
+of bitter contempt flashed out from her eyes;
+but he dismissed the idea, for, when she dropped
+the fan again, her face was clear and smiling.</p>
+
+<p>‘I am wearying you,’ she said, ‘by my silly
+questions. A woman who asks questions should
+not be allowed in society; she should be shut
+away from her fellow-creatures, as a thing to be
+avoided. I am no talker myself, at least not
+in the sense men mean.—Shall I play to you?’</p>
+
+<p>Le Gautier would have asked nothing better
+than to sit there feasting his eyes upon her matchless
+beauty; but now he assented eagerly to the
+suggestion. Music is an accomplishment which
+forces flirtation; besides which, he could stand
+close to her side, turning over the leaves with
+opportunities which a quiet conversation never
+furnishes. Taking him at his word, she sat down
+at the instrument and commenced to play. It
+might have been brilliant or despicably bad,
+opera or oratorio, anything to the listener; he
+was far too deeply engrossed in the player to
+have any sense alive to the music. Perfectly
+collected, she did not fail to note this, and when
+she had finished, she looked up in his passionate
+face with a glance melting and tender, yet wholly
+womanly. It took all Le Gautier’s self-command
+to restrain himself from snatching her to his
+heart in his madness and covering the dark face
+with kisses. He was reckless now, too far gone
+to disguise his admiration, and she knew it.
+With one final crash upon the keys she rose
+from her seat, confronting him.</p>
+
+<p>‘Do not leave off yet,’ he urged, and saying
+this, he laid his hand upon her arm. She started,
+trembling, as if some deadly thing had stung her.
+To her it was a sting; to him, the evidence of
+awaking passion, and he, poor fool, felt his heart
+beat faster. She sat down again, panting a little,
+as from some inward emotion. ‘As you please,’
+she said. ‘Shall I sing to you?’</p>
+
+<p>‘Sweeter than the voice of the nightingales to
+me!’ he exclaimed passionately. ‘Yes, do sing.
+I shall close my eyes, and fancy myself in paradise.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Your imagination must be a powerful one.—Do
+you know this?’</p>
+
+<p>Isodore took a piece of music from the stand,
+a simple Italian air, and placed it in his hands.
+He turned over the leaves carelessly, and returned
+it to her with a gesture of denial. There was
+a curious smile upon her lips as she sat down
+to sing, a smile that puzzled and bewildered him.</p>
+
+<p>‘Do you not know it?’ she asked, when the
+last chords died away.</p>
+
+<p>‘Now you have sung it, I think I do. It is
+a sentimental sort of thing, do you not think?
+A little girl I used to know near Rome sang it
+to me. She, I remember, used to imagine it was
+my favourite song. She was one of the romantic
+schoolgirls, Miss St Jean, and the eyes she used
+to make at me when she sang it are something
+to be remembered.’</p>
+
+<p>Isodore turned her back sharply and searched
+among the music. If he could only have seen
+the bitter scorn in the face then—scorn partly
+for him, and wholly for herself. But again she
+steeled herself.</p>
+
+<p>‘I daresay you gave her some cause, Monsieur
+Le Gautier,’ she said. ‘You men of the world,
+flitting from place to place, think nothing of
+breaking a country heart or two. You may not
+mean it, perhaps, but so it is.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Hearts do not break so easily,’ Le Gautier
+replied lightly. ‘Perhaps I did give the child
+some cause, as you say. <i>Pardieu!</i> a man tied
+down in a country village must amuse himself,
+and a little unsophisticated human nature is a
+pleasant chance. She was a little spitfire, I
+remember, and when I left, could not see the
+matter in a reasonable light. There is still some
+bitter vengeance awaiting me, if I am to believe
+her words.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Then you had best beware. A woman’s heart
+is a dangerous plaything,’ Isodore replied. ‘Do
+you never feel sorry, never experience a pang of
+conscience after such a thing as that? Surely,
+at times you must regret?’</p>
+
+<p>‘I have heard of such a thing as conscience,’
+Le Gautier put in airily; ‘but I must have been
+born before they came into fashion. No, Miss
+St Jean, I cannot afford to indulge in luxuries.’</p>
+
+<p>‘And the League takes up so much of your
+time. And that reminds me. We have said
+nothing yet about your insignia. I may tell you
+now that it is not yet in my hands; but I shall
+obtain it for you. How bold, how reckless you
+were that night, and yet I do not wonder! At
+times, the sense of restraint must bear heavy upon
+a man of spirit.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Thank you, from the bottom of my heart,’
+Le Gautier fervently exclaimed. ‘You are too
+good to me.—Yes,’ he continued, ‘there are times
+when I feel the burden sorely—times like the
+present, let us say, when I have a foretaste of
+happier things. If I had you by my side, I
+could defy the world.’</p>
+
+<p>Isodore looked at him and laughed, her wonderful
+magnetic smile making her eyes aglow and
+full of dazzling tints.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_709">{709}</span></p>
+<p>‘That could not be,’ she said. ‘I would have
+no divided attentions; I would have a man’s
+whole heart, or nothing. I have too long been
+alone in the world not to realise what a full meed
+of affection means.’</p>
+
+<p>‘You should have all mine!’ Le Gautier cried,
+carried away by the torrent of his passions. ‘No
+longer should the League bind me. I would be
+free, if it cost ten thousand lives! No chains
+should hold me then, for, by heaven, I would not
+hesitate to betray it!’</p>
+
+<p>‘Hush, hush!’ Isodore exclaimed in a startled
+whisper. ‘You do not understand what you are
+saying. You do not comprehend the meaning
+of your words. Would you betray the Brotherhood?’</p>
+
+<p>‘Ay, if you but say the word—ten thousand
+Brotherhoods.’</p>
+
+<p>‘I am not bound by solemn oath like you,’
+Isodore replied sadly; ‘and at times I think it
+could never do good. It is too dark and mysterious
+and too violent to my taste; but you are
+bound in honour.’</p>
+
+<p>‘But suppose I was to come to you and say
+I was free?’ Le Gautier asked hoarsely. ‘To
+tell you that my hands were no longer fettered—what
+words would you have to say to me then—Marie?’
+He hesitated before he uttered the
+last word, dwelling upon it in an accent of the
+deepest tenderness. Apparently, Isodore did not
+notice, for her eyes were sad, her thoughts evidently
+far away.</p>
+
+<p>‘I do not know what I should say to you—in
+time.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Your words are like new life to me,’ Le
+Gautier exclaimed; ‘they give me hope and
+strength, and in my undertaking I shall succeed.’</p>
+
+<p>‘You will do nothing rash, nothing headstrong,
+without telling me. Let me know when
+you are coming to see me again, and we will talk
+the matter over; but I fear, without treachery,
+you never can be free.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Anything to be my own master!’ he retorted
+fervently.—‘Good-night, and remember that any
+step I may take will be for you.’ With a long
+lingering pressure of the hand and many burning
+glances, he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Isodore heard his retreating footsteps echoing
+down the stairs, and thence along the silent
+street. The mask fell from her face; she clenched
+her hands, and her countenance was crossed
+with a hundred angry passions. Valerie entering
+at that moment, looked at her with something
+like fear.</p>
+
+<p>‘Sit down, Valerie,’ Isodore whispered hoarsely,
+in a voice like the tones of one in great pain,
+as she walked impatiently about the room, her
+hands twisted together convulsively. ‘Do not be
+afraid; I shall be better presently. I feel as if
+I want to scream, or do some desperate thing
+to-night. He has been here, Valerie; how I
+sustained myself, I cannot tell.’</p>
+
+<p>‘Did he recognise you?’ Valerie asked timidly.</p>
+
+<p>‘Recognise me? No, indeed! He spoke about
+the old days by the Mattio woods, the old times
+when we were together, and laughed at me for
+a romantic schoolgirl. I nearly stabbed him
+then. There is treachery afloat; his plan is
+prospering. As I told you it would be, Maxwell
+is chosen for the Roman mission; but he will
+never do the deed, for I shall warn Visci myself.
+And he was my bro——Visci’s friend!’</p>
+
+<p>‘But what are you going to do now?’ Valerie
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>‘He is a traitor. He is going to betray the
+League, and I am going to be his confidant. I
+saw it in his face. I wonder how I bear it—I
+wonder I do not die! What would they say
+if they saw Isodore now?—Come, Valerie, come
+and hold me tightly in your arms—tighter still.
+If I do not have a little pity, my poor heart
+will break.’</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Long and earnestly did Salvarini and Maxwell
+sit in the latter’s studio discussing the events of
+the evening, till the fire had burnt down to
+ashes and the clock in the neighbouring steeple
+struck three. It was settled that Maxwell
+should go to Rome, though with what ulterior
+object they did not decide. Time was in his
+favour, the lapse of a month or so in the commission
+being a matter of little object to the
+League. They preferred that vengeance should
+be deferred for a time, and that the blow might
+be struck when it was least expected, when the
+victim was just beginning to imagine himself
+safe and the matter forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>‘I suppose I had better lose no time in going?’
+Maxwell observed, when they had discussed the
+matter thoroughly. ‘Time and distance are no
+objects to me, or money either.’</p>
+
+<p>‘As to your time of departure, I should say
+as soon as possible,’ Salvarini replied; ‘and as
+to money, the League finds that.’</p>
+
+<p>‘I would not touch a penny of it, Luigi—no,
+not if I was starving. I could not soil my fingers
+with their blood-money.—What do you say to
+my starting on Monday night? I could get to
+Rome by Thursday morning at the latest.—And
+yet, to what good? I almost feel inclined to
+refuse, and bid them do their worst.’</p>
+
+<p>‘For heaven’s sake, do not!’ Salvarini implored.
+‘Such a thing is worse than folly. If
+you assume a readiness to fulfil your undertaking,
+something may turn up in your favour.’
+Maxwell gazed moodily in the dead ashes,
+and cursed the hot-headed haste which had
+placed him in that awful position. Like every
+right-minded man, he shrank with horror from
+such a cowardly crime.</p>
+
+<p>‘You will never attain your ends,’ he said.
+‘Your cause is a noble one; but true liberty, perfect
+freedom, turns against cold-blooded murder;
+for call it what you will, it is nothing else.’</p>
+
+<p>‘You are right, my friend,’ Salvarini mournfully
+replied. ‘No good can come of it; and
+when reprisals come, as they must, they shall be
+swift and terrible.—But Frederick,’ he continued,
+laying his hand on the other’s shoulder, ‘do not
+blame me too deeply, for I will lay down my
+own life cheerfully before harm shall come to
+you.’</p>
+
+<p>Maxwell was not aware that Sir Geoffrey
+Charteris was a member of the League, as Le
+Gautier had taken care to keep them apart,
+so far as business matters were concerned, only
+allowing the baronet to attend such meetings
+as were perfectly harmless in their general character,
+and calculated to inspire him with admiration
+of the philanthropic schemes and self-denying
+usefulness of the Brotherhood; nor was it
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_710">{710}</span>the Frenchman’s intention to admit him any
+deeper into its secrets; indeed, his admission
+only formed part of the scheme by which the
+baronet, and through him his daughter, should
+be entirely in the Frenchman’s power. The
+cards were sorted, and, once Maxwell was out
+of the way, the game was ready to be played.
+All this the artist did not know.</p>
+
+<p>With a heavy heart and a foreboding of coming
+evil, he made the simple preparations for his
+journey. He had delayed to the last the task
+of informing Enid of his departure, partly from
+a distaste of alarming her, and partly out of fear.
+It would look more natural, he thought, to break
+it suddenly, merely saying he had been called
+to Rome on pressing business, and that his
+absence would not be a prolonged one. Till
+Saturday, he put this off, and then, bracing up
+his nerves, he got into his cab, and was driven
+off rapidly in the direction of Grosvenor Square.
+He was roused from his meditations by a shock
+and a crash, the sound of broken glass, the sight
+of two plunging horses on the ground—roused
+by being shot forward violently, by the shouts
+of the crowd, and above all, by the piercing
+scream of a woman’s voice. Scrambling out as
+best he could, he rose to his feet and looked
+around. His cab had come violently in collision
+with another in the centre of Piccadilly.
+A woman had attempted to cross hurriedly; and
+the two cabs had swerved suddenly, coming
+together sharply, but not too late to save the
+woman, who was lying there, in the centre of
+an eager, excited crowd, perfectly unconscious,
+the blood streaming down her white face, and
+staining her light summer dress. A doctor had
+raised her a little, and was trying to force some
+brandy between the clenched teeth, as Maxwell
+pushed his way through the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>‘Nothing very serious,’ he said, in answer to
+Maxwell’s question. ‘She is simply stunned by
+the blow, and has sustained, I should say, a
+simple fracture of the right arm. She must be
+moved from here at once.—If you will call a
+cab, I will take her to a hospital.’</p>
+
+<p>‘No, no!’ Maxwell cried, moved to pity by
+the pale fair face and slight girlish figure. ‘I
+am mainly responsible for the accident, and you
+must allow me to be the best judge. My cab,
+you see, is almost uninjured; put her in there,
+and I will tell you where to drive.’</p>
+
+<p>They lifted the unconscious girl and placed
+her tenderly on the seat. There were warm
+hearts and sympathetic hands there, as you may
+notice on such occasions as these, and there was
+a look of feeling in every face as the cab drove
+slowly away.</p>
+
+<p>‘Go on to Grosvenor Square,’ Maxwell instructed
+his man. ‘Drive slowly up New Bond
+Street. We shall be there as soon as you.’</p>
+
+<p>They arrived at Sir Geoffrey’s house together,
+considerably astonishing the footman, as, without
+ceremony, they carried the sufferer in. Alarmed
+by strange voices and the shrieks of the servants,
+who had come up at the first alarm, Enid made
+her appearance to demand the meaning of this
+unseemly noise; but directly she heard the
+cause, as coherently as Maxwell could tell her,
+her face changed, and she became at once all
+tenderness and womanly sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>‘I knew you would not mind, darling,’ he
+whispered gratefully. ‘I hardly knew what to
+do, and it was partly my fault.’</p>
+
+<p>‘You did quite right. Of course I do not
+mind. Fred, what do you take me for?’ She
+knelt down beside the injured woman there in
+the hall, in the presence of all the servants, and
+helped to carry her up the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Lucrece looked on for a moment, and then
+a startled look came in her face. ‘Ah!’ she
+exclaimed, ‘I know that face—it is Linda
+Despard.’</p>
+
+<p>Enid heard these words, but did not heed
+them at the time. They carried the girl into
+one of the rooms and laid her on the bed. At
+a sign from the doctor, the room was cleared,
+with the exception of Enid and Lucrece, and
+the medical man proceeded to look to the broken
+limb. It was only a very simple fracture, he
+said. The gravest danger was from the shock
+to the system and the wound upon the forehead.
+Presently, they got her comfortably in
+bed, breathing regularly, and apparently asleep.
+The good-natured doctor, waving aside all thanks,
+left the room, promising to call again later in
+the day.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="FOUNDLING_QUOTATIONS">FOUNDLING QUOTATIONS.</h2></div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Quotations</span> play no small part in conversation
+and general literature. There are some which we
+know must inevitably be made under certain circumstances.
+It is almost impossible, for instance,
+for the conventional novelist, when he wants to
+convey to his readers the fact that his heroine’s
+nose is of a particular order—which, formerly,
+through our lack of invention, we could only
+describe by a somewhat ungraceful term—to avoid
+quoting Lord Tennyson’s description of the feature
+as it graced Lynette’s fair face—‘Tip-tilted like the
+petal of a flower.’ We feel sure that it must come;
+and there is now, happily, no occasion for a young
+lady in the position of one of Miss Braddon’s
+earlier heroines, when listening to a detailed
+description of her appearance, to interrupt the
+speaker, as he is about to mention the characteristics
+of her nose, with a beseeching, ‘Please,
+don’t say <i>pug</i>!’</p>
+
+<p>And then, does anybody ever expect to read
+a description of a certain celebrated Scotch ruin,
+without being told that</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Go visit it by the pale moonlight?</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>or to get through an account of the ancient gladiatorial
+games at Rome without coming across the
+line,</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Butchered to make a Roman holiday?</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>You know, perhaps, what praise Mark Twain took
+to himself because he did <i>not</i> quote this line. ‘If
+any man has a right,’ he says, ‘to feel proud of
+himself and satisfied, surely it is I; for I have
+written about the Coliseum, and the gladiators,
+the martyrs, and the lions, and yet have never
+used the phrase, “Butchered to make a Roman
+holiday.” I am the only free white man of
+mature age who has accomplished this since Byron
+originated the expression.’ This little piece of
+self-congratulation rather reminds one of the lady
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_711">{711}</span>who was accused of never being able to write a
+letter without adding a P.S. At last, she managed
+to write one without the usual addition; but
+when she saw what she had succeeded in doing,
+she wrote: ‘P.S.—At last, you see, I have written
+a letter without a P.S.’ And so, though Mark
+Twain managed to steer clear of the hackneyed
+quotation in the body of his account, he could
+not help running against it in a P.S.</p>
+
+<p>Then we have all the multitude of Shaksperean
+quotations which are sure to be heard in their
+accustomed places, many of which, indeed, have
+become—to quote again—such ‘household words,’
+that to very many people they do not appear to
+be quotations at all, but merely every-day expressions,
+of the same order as ‘A fine day’ or ‘A
+biting wind.’</p>
+
+<p>Again, when we read of some cheerful fireside
+scene, when the curtains are drawn closely against
+the winter wind that is roaring round the house,
+and the logs are crackling and spitting in the
+grate, and the urn is hissing and steaming upon
+the table, don’t we know that a reference to the
+‘cup which cheers but not inebriates’ is certainly
+coming? This, by the way, is a line that is
+almost invariably incorrectly quoted, and it is
+the usual and incorrect form that we have given.
+We shall leave our readers to turn up the line
+for themselves, and see what the correct form is,
+and then, perhaps, the trouble they will thereby
+have had will serve to impress it upon their
+minds, and prevent them again quoting it incorrectly.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not with the intention of talking
+about these well-known and every-day quotations
+from Tennyson, Scott, Byron, Shakspeare, and
+Cowper that we thought of writing this paper.
+We want to talk about a few quotations, quite as
+well known as those to which we have already
+alluded, which have been so bandied about that
+all trace, or nearly all trace, of their original
+parish and paternity has been lost; and, though
+they are as familiar to us as the most hackneyed
+phrases from our best known poets, no one can
+say with certainty by whom they were first
+spoken or written.</p>
+
+<p>A good many wagers have been made as to
+the source of the well-known and much-quoted
+couplet:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">He that fights and runs away,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">May live to fight another day.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The popular belief is that they are to be found
+in Butler’s <i>Hudibras</i>. But the pages of that poem
+may be turned over and over again, and the
+lines will not be found in them. We may as well
+say at once that they cannot be found anywhere
+in the exact form in which they are usually
+quoted. The late Mr James Yeowell, formerly sub-editor
+of <i>Notes and Queries</i>, once thought that he
+had discovered their author in Oliver Goldsmith,
+as a couplet, varying very slightly from the form
+we have given, occurs in <i>The Art of Poetry on a
+New Plan</i>, which was compiled by Newbery—the
+children’s publisher—more than a century ago,
+and revised and enlarged by Goldsmith. But the
+lines are to be found in a book that was published
+some thirteen years before <i>The Art of Poetry</i>,
+namely, Ray’s <i>History of the Rebellion</i>. There
+they appear as a quotation, and no hint is given
+as to the source from which they are taken.
+Ray gives them as follows (first edition, 1749,
+page 54):</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">He that fights and runs away,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">May turn and fight another day.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Though this is the earliest appearance in print
+of the exact words, or almost the exact words, in
+which the quotation is now usually given, it is by
+no means the earliest appearance of a similar
+thought. Even as far back as Demosthenes we
+find it. It appears, too, in Scarron, in his
+<i>Virgile Travesti</i>, if we remember rightly. And
+now we must confess that the still prevailing
+belief that the lines occur in <i>Hudibras</i> is not
+entirely without a <i>raison d’être</i>, and it is not
+impossible that Ray may have thought he was
+quoting Butler, preserving some hazy and indistinct
+recollection of lines read long ago, and
+putting their meaning, perhaps quite unwittingly
+and unconsciously, into a new and unauthorised
+form. This, however, is mere conjecture. The
+lines, as they appear in <i>Hudibras</i> (part iii. canto
+iii., lines 243, 244), are as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">For those that fly, may fight again,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Which he can never do that’s slain.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>We may just add that Collet, in his <i>Relics of
+Literature</i>, says that the couplet occurs in a
+small volume of miscellaneous poems by Sir
+John Mennis, written in the reign of Charles II.
+With this book, however, we are unacquainted,
+and cannot, therefore, discuss the appearance of
+the foundling lines in it, or what claims its
+author may have to be their legitimate parent.</p>
+
+<p>All readers of Tennyson—and who that reads
+at all is not numbered amongst them?—know
+well the opening stanza of <i>In Memoriam</i>:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">I held it truth, with him who sings</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">To one clear harp in divers tones,</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">That men may rise on stepping-stones</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Of their dead selves to higher things.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>These lines contain another quotation of the
+order we have designated as ‘Foundling Quotations.’
+Who is the singer, ‘to one clear harp
+in divers tones,’ to whom Lord Tennyson refers?
+Passages from Seneca and from St Augustine
+(Bishop of Hippo) have been suggested as inspiring
+the poet when he penned the lines; but
+neither Seneca nor St Augustine can be said to
+<i>sing</i> ‘to one clear harp in divers tones.’ Perhaps
+the most reasonable hypothesis is that Lord
+Tennyson had in his mind Longfellow’s beautiful
+poem of <i>St Augustine’s Ladder</i>, the opening lines
+of which are:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">That of our vices we can frame</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">A ladder, if we will but tread</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">Beneath our feet each deed of shame!</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>and the closing ones:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Nor deem the irrevocable Past</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">As wholly wasted, wholly vain,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">If, rising on its wrecks, at last</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">To something nobler we attain.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The question, however, though Lord Tennyson
+is still alive, is one that is not likely ever to be
+clearly solved; for we have very good authority
+for saying that he has himself quite forgotten
+of what poet or verses he was thinking when
+he composed the first stanza of <i>In Memoriam</i>.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_712">{712}</span></p>
+<p>The equally well-known</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent18">This is truth the poet sings,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">That a sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remembering happier things,</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>in <i>Locksley Hall</i>, refers, of course, to the line in
+Dante’s <i>Inferno</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The trite ‘Not lost, but gone before,’ might
+alone provide subject-matter for a fairly long
+essay. Like the other quotations which we are
+discussing, it can be definitely assigned to no
+author. The thought can be traced back as far
+as the time of Antiphanes, a portion of whose
+eleventh ‘fragment,’ Cumberland has translated,
+fairly literally, as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Advanced a stage or two upon that road</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Which you must travel, in the steps they trod.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Seneca, in his ninety-ninth Epistle, says:
+‘Quem putas periisse, præmissus est’ (He whom
+you think dead has been sent on before); and he
+also has: ‘Non amittuntur, sed præmittuntur’
+(They are not lost, but are sent on before),
+which corresponds very closely with the popular
+form of the quotation. Cicero has the remark
+that ‘Friends, though absent, are still present;’
+and it is very probable that it is to this phrase
+of Cicero that we are really indebted for the
+modern, ‘Not lost, but gone before.’ We may
+note that Rogers, in his <i>Human Life</i>, has, ‘Not
+dead, but gone before.’</p>
+
+<p>Then there is the somewhat similar, ‘Though
+lost to sight, to memory dear,’ which no one
+has succeeded in satisfactorily tracing to its
+original source. It was said, some years ago,
+that the line was to be found in a poem published
+in a journal whose name was given as
+<i>The Greenwich Magazine</i>, in 1701, and written by
+one Ruthven Jenkyns. The words formed the
+refrain of each stanza of the poem. We give one
+of them as a sample:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Sweetheart, good-bye! the fluttering sail</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Is spread to waft me far from thee;</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">And soon before the fav’ring gale</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">My ship shall bound upon the sea.</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Perchance all desolate and forlorn,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">These eyes shall miss thee many a year,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">But unforgotten every charm—</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Though lost to sight, to memory dear.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mr Bartlett, however, in the last edition of his
+<i>Dictionary of Quotations</i>, has demolished this
+story of Mr Ruthven Jenkyns; and the line is
+still unclaimed and fatherless. Probably, as in
+the case of the last mentioned, ‘Not lost, but
+gone before,’ its germ is to be found in an
+expression of Cicero.</p>
+
+<p>There is a Latin line familiar to all of us,
+‘Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis’
+(The times change, and we change with them),
+which we are frequently hearing and seeing.
+This is a much-abused line; probably there is
+none more so; and we do not think we shall
+be guilty of exaggeration if we say that it is
+misquoted ten times for every time it is correctly
+cited. The positions of the <i>nos</i> and the <i>et</i> are
+usually interchanged; the result being, of course,
+a false quantity; for the line is a hexameter.
+Now, who first wrote this line? The answer
+must be, as in the cases of all our other ‘Foundling
+Quotations,’ that we do not know. But in
+this particular instance we may venture to be
+a little more certain and definite in our remarks
+concerning its pedigree than we have dared to
+be in previous ones. There can be little doubt
+that the line is a corruption of one to be found
+in the <i>Delitiæ Poetarum Germanorum</i> (vol. i.
+page 685), amongst the poems of Matthias Borbonius,
+who considers it a saying of Lotharius I.,
+who flourished, as the phrase goes, about 830 <span class="allsmcap">A.D.</span>
+We give the correct form of the line in question,
+and the one which follows it:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis;</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Illa vices quasdem res habet, illa suas.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>There is another foundling Latin line, almost
+as frequently quoted as the one we have just
+been discussing, namely, ‘Quos Deus vult perdere,
+prius dementat’ (Whom the gods would
+destroy, they first madden). Concerning this there
+is a note in the fifth chapter of the eighth volume
+of Mr Croker’s edition of Boswell’s <i>Life of
+Johnson</i>, in which it is said to be a translation
+from a Greek iambic of Euripides, which is
+quoted; but no such line is to be found amongst
+the writings of Euripides. Words, however,
+expressing the same sentiment are to be found
+in a fragment of Athenagoras; and it is most
+likely that the Latin phrase now so commonly
+quoted is merely a translation from this writer’s
+Greek, though by whom it was first made we
+cannot say. The same sentiment has been expressed
+more than once in English poetry.</p>
+
+<p>Dryden, in the third part of <i>The Hind and
+the Panther</i>, has:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">For those whom God to ruin has designed,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And Butler writes in <i>Hudibras</i> (part iii. canto
+ii., lines 565, 566):</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Like men condemned to thunder-bolts,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">Who, ere the blow, become mere dolts.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Further consideration will probably bring to
+the reader’s mind other examples of these
+‘Foundling Quotations’ which have won for themselves
+an imperishable existence; though their
+authors, whose names these few-syllabled sentences
+might have kept alive for ever, if they
+were only linked the one with the other, are
+now utterly unknown and forgotten. Any one
+who can succeed in discovering the real authorship
+of the quotations we have been considering
+will win for himself the credit of having solved
+problems which have long and persistently baffled
+the most curious and diligent research.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="MISS_MASTERMANS_DISCOVERY">MISS MASTERMAN’S DISCOVERY.</h2></div>
+
+
+<h3 title="CHAP. I.">IN TWO CHAPTERS.—CHAP. I.</h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Miss Phœbe Masterman</span> was a spinster over
+whose head some fifty summers had flown—with,
+it may be presumed, incredible swiftness
+to herself. She was very comfortably situated
+with regard to this world’s goods, having inherited
+ample means from her father, a native of
+Durham, who had made a considerable fortune
+as a coal-merchant. At the time of her father’s
+death, she was thirty-five; and as she had no
+near relative in whom to interest herself, she
+established an Orphanage for twelve girls at
+Bradborough, a market-town in the north of
+England, within two miles of the coast. Brought
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_713">{713}</span>up in the strictest conformity with Miss Masterman’s
+peculiar views, dressed with the most rigid
+simplicity, fed on the plainest fare, taught to
+look upon the mildest forms of recreation as
+vanity and vexation of spirit, these fortunate
+orphans, one would think, could hardly fail to
+become virtuous and happy; yet, inconceivable
+as it may appear, there were legends that orphans
+had been seen with red eyes and countenances
+expressive of anything but content; there was
+even a dark rumour to the effect that one of
+them had been heard to declare that if she only
+had the opportunity she would gladly commit
+a crime, that she might be sent to prison, and
+so escape from the thraldom of Miss Masterman!</p>
+
+<p>But even this ingratitude and depravity paled
+before that of the Rev. Shanghan Lambe, incumbent
+of the little church of St Mary’s. Now,
+Miss Masterman had built that church for the
+good of the district, and the living was in her
+own gift. Yet Mr Lambe, entirely ignoring the
+latter fact, had had the hardihood to baptise
+an orphan in Miss Masterman’s absence without
+previously obtaining the permission of that lady;
+upon which the indignant lady declared that
+unless he promised not to interfere with her
+orphans, she would withdraw all her subscriptions
+and leave him to find his own income.
+Nor was this all. There were other reasons to
+make Mr Lambe pause before quarrelling with
+Miss Masterman. Before he was appointed to
+St Mary’s, he had been only a poor curate with
+a stipend of fifty pounds a year, which munificent
+income he had found totally inadequate
+to his wants and those of an aged mother who
+was dependent on him; consequently, he had
+entered upon his duties at Bradborough shackled
+with small debts to the amount of a hundred
+pounds.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Masterman, who made a point of
+inquiring into every one’s affairs, soon became
+aware of this, and as want of generosity was
+by no means to be numbered among her failings,
+she rightly judged that it would not be reasonable
+to expect a man to give his mind to his
+work if he were weighed down by other cares;
+so, in an evil hour for himself, poor Mr Lambe
+accepted from the lady a sum of money sufficient
+to defray his debts—a sum for which, as he
+soon found, he would have to pay compound
+interest in the way of blind obedience to Miss
+Masterman’s behests. Not a funeral could be
+performed, not a marriage could be solemnised,
+not an infant could be baptised, without Miss
+Masterman’s permission; and it was even asserted
+by some that Miss Masterman selected the texts
+for the poor man’s sermons! The only oasis in
+his desert was the annual departure of Miss
+Masterman for change of air; then, and then
+only, did Mr Lambe breathe in peace. For a
+brief period, he felt that he was really master
+of himself. He could sit down and smoke his
+pipe without fear that his sitting-room door
+would be rudely flung open by an imperious
+female of fierce aspect, who would lecture him
+on his sinful extravagance in the use of tobacco,
+when he couldn’t pay his debts.</p>
+
+<p>One bright August morning, Miss Masterman
+was seated at her breakfast table, and having
+concluded her meal, had taken up the morning
+paper and was studying the advertisements,
+holding the paper at arm’s-length with an air
+of grim combativeness, as if she were prepared
+to give battle to any or all the advertisers who
+did not offer exactly what she sought. Suddenly,
+she pounced upon the following: ‘A Home is
+offered in a Country Rectory by a Rector and
+his family for two or three months to a Single
+Lady needing change of air. House, with large
+grounds, conservatories, pony-carriage, beautiful
+scenery.—Address, Rector, <i>Clerical Times Office</i>.’</p>
+
+<p>‘That will do,’ said Miss Masterman to herself;
+and, with her usual promptitude, she sat
+down then and there and wrote to the advertiser,
+asking particulars as to terms, &amp;c. And
+in due course she received an answer so perfectly
+satisfactory in every respect, that the end
+of the month found her comfortably installed
+in the charming rectory of Sunnydale, in the
+county of Hampshire, in the family of the Rev.
+Stephen Draycott, rector of Sunnydale.</p>
+
+<p>The rector’s family, besides himself and his
+wife, consisted of two sons and two daughters,
+all grown up, with the exception of Master
+Hubert, a boy of ten years old, who was endowed
+with such a remarkable fund of animal spirits
+that he was the terror of the neighbourhood; and
+from the first moment of Miss Masterman’s arrival,
+he became the special <i>bête noire</i> of that lady.
+With all the other members of the family, Miss
+Masterman was much pleased. The rector himself
+was a polished and dignified person, and
+by the extreme, if rather laboured, courtesy
+of his manners, he endeavoured to tone down
+the somewhat exuberant spirits of the rest of
+his family. Mrs Draycott was a gentle, refined
+matron, with a sweet, though rather weary face,
+and was simply adored by her husband and
+children. The two daughters, Adela and Magdalen,
+were charming girls, full of fun, and very
+popular with their two brothers, of whom the
+senior, Clive, was aged nineteen.</p>
+
+<p>To the young people, Miss Masterman’s
+arrival was little short of a calamity; they were
+so much in the habit of freely stating their
+opinions on all subjects without restraint, that
+the presence of a stranger appeared to them an
+unmitigated bore. It was in vain that their
+mother reminded them that the handsome sum
+paid by Miss Masterman for her board would
+be a very desirable addition to the family
+exchequer. At a sort of cabinet council held
+after she had retired to her room the first
+night after her arrival, Master Hubert expressed,
+in schoolboy slang, his conviction that she was
+a ‘ghastly old crumpet;’ a nickname which she
+retained until a servant one day brought in a
+letter which, she said, was addressed to ‘Miss
+Pobe Masterman;’ from which moment, Miss
+Masterman went by the name of ‘Pobe’ till
+the end of her visit—a piece of irreverence of
+which that lady happily remained quite unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>By the time Miss Masterman had settled down
+in her new abode, the principal ladies of the
+parish came to call upon her; and as some
+of them were not only rich but very highly
+connected, Miss Masterman greatly appreciated
+their kind attentions. Among them was a Lady
+O’Leary, an Irish widow, with whom Miss
+Masterman soon struck up a great intimacy.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_714">{714}</span>Lady O’Leary was generally believed to be a
+person of large fortune; but as this supposition
+was based entirely on her own representations
+with regard to property in Ireland, there were
+some sceptical spirits who declined to believe in
+it as an established fact. Lady O’Leary shared
+three furnished rooms with a Miss Moone, who
+lived with her as companion; and it soon
+became quite an institution for Miss Masterman
+to take tea with her two or three times a
+week at least. On these occasions, the two
+ladies—for Miss Moone discreetly withdrew
+when Lady O’Leary had visitors—discussed all
+the affairs of the parish, until, by degrees, they
+got upon such thoroughly confidential terms, that
+before long they had imparted to each other
+their joint conviction that the general moral tone
+of the parish was lamentably low, and that it
+was doubtless owing in a great measure to the
+deplorably frivolous conduct of the family at the
+rectory; for Miss Masterman had discovered, to
+her amazement and horror, that the rector not
+only permitted his daughters to read Shakspeare,
+but even gave them direct encouragement to do
+so. Nor was this all; he actually was in the
+habit, once a year, of taking all his children
+up to London to see the pantomime at Drury
+Lane!</p>
+
+<p>Among the more frequent visitors at the rectory
+was a Mrs Penrose, an exceedingly pretty young
+widow, who had recently taken a small house
+in the village, where she lived very quietly with
+an old servant, who appeared greatly attached to
+her mistress. The widow, who was apparently
+not more than five-and-twenty, was a charming
+brunette, with sparkling black eyes, and hair like
+waves of shining brown satin; and her sweet
+face and animated manners made her generally
+very popular in the village, where she visited the
+poor and assisted the rector in various parochial
+works of charity. Especially was she a favourite
+at the rectory, not only with Mr and Mrs
+Draycott, but with the young people, her presence
+in the family circle invariably giving rise
+to so much hilarity, that even the rector was
+attracted by the general merriment, and would
+leave his study to come and sit with his family,
+and allow himself to join in their mirth at Mrs
+Penrose’s lively sallies. Indeed, he had even been
+heard to declare, in Miss Masterman’s hearing,
+to that lady’s unspeakable disgust, that when
+he was fagged and worried with the necessary
+work of a parish, a few minutes of Mrs Penrose’s
+cheerful society acted on his mind like a
+tonic.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Masterman, from the first, had taken an
+extraordinary antipathy to Mrs Penrose, who
+appeared to her to be everything that a widow
+ought not to be! Her bright face and unflagging
+spirits were a constant offence to the elder lady,
+though she had often been told that the late
+Captain Penrose was such a worthless man that
+his early death, brought about entirely by his
+own excesses, could be nothing but an intense
+relief to his young widow, who was now enjoying
+the reaction, after five years of married misery.
+Miss Masterman’s dislike to Mrs Penrose was
+fully shared by her friend Lady O’Leary; and
+they both agreed that the widow was in all
+probability a designing adventuress, and deplored
+the infatuation which evidently blinded the rector
+as to her real character, for, as Lady O’Leary
+observed: ‘Though it was given out that Mrs
+Penrose was the particular friend of <i>Mrs</i> Draycott,
+the rector’s partiality was obvious!’</p>
+
+<p>Miss Masterman had been at Sunnydale for
+six weeks, when one morning she received a
+letter from her housekeeper, informing her that
+Mr Lambe had taken upon himself to remark
+that the orphans were looking pale and jaded,
+and that he was going to take them all to spend a
+day at the seaside. Miss Masterman, on reading
+this letter, felt most indignant, and at once wrote
+to Mr Lambe to forbid the proposed excursion;
+and after enumerating the many obligations under
+which she had laid him—not forgetting the hundred
+pounds she had lent him—she concluded
+by expressing her surprise that he should presume
+to interfere with her special protégées in
+any way whatever.</p>
+
+<p>To this Mr Lambe replied that he was
+‘extremely sorry if he had offended Miss Masterman;
+that he had imagined that she would be
+pleased for the orphans to have the treat, particularly
+as some of them looked far from well;
+but that, having promised the children, it was
+impossible for him to break his word, particularly
+as he had ordered a van for their conveyance
+and made all the necessary arrangements
+for the trip; he therefore trusted that Miss
+Masterman would forgive him if he still kept
+his promise to his little friends.’</p>
+
+<p>Furious at this unexpected opposition to her
+will, Miss Masterman at once went in search of
+Mrs Draycott to inform her that it was necessary
+for her to go home for a week or ten days
+on business of importance. Finding that Mrs
+Draycott was not at home, she repaired to the
+rector’s study, and after knocking at the door,
+and being told to enter, she informed Mr Draycott
+of her intentions. Saying that she must
+write home at once, she was about to withdraw,
+when Mr Draycott courteously asked her if she
+would not write in the study, to save time,
+as he was just going out. Miss Masterman
+thanked him; and as soon as he had gone, sat
+down and wrote to her housekeeper to say that
+she would be at home the following day without
+fail. Having finished her letter, she was about
+to leave the room, when she observed a note
+in a lady’s handwriting, which had apparently
+slipped out of the blotting-pad on to the floor.
+She picked it up, and was about to return it to
+its place, when the signature, ‘Florence Penrose,’
+caught her eye. ‘What can that frivolous being
+have to say to the rector?’ thought Miss Masterman;
+and feeling that her curiosity was too
+strong to be resisted, she unfolded the note, and
+read the following words:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><span class="smcap">My dear Friend</span>—I have just received the
+diamonds, which are exactly what I wanted. The
+baby’s cloak and hood will do very well. I have
+now nearly all that I require. My only terror
+is, lest our secret should be discovered.—In great
+haste. Yours, as ever,</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="smcap">Florence Penrose</span>.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><i>P.S.</i>—I hope you won’t forget to supply me
+with plenty of flowers.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Here was a discovery! For a few moments
+Miss Masterman sat motionless with horror; her
+head was in a whirl, and she had to collect her
+thoughts before she could make up her mind
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_715">{715}</span>what to do. The first definite idea that occurred
+to her was to secure the note; the next was, to
+show it to Lady O’Leary and to discuss with
+her what was to be done. As soon, therefore,
+as she had completed all her arrangements for
+her journey on the morrow, she repaired to her
+friend’s lodgings; and after Lady O’Leary had
+fairly exhausted all the expletives that even her
+extensive Irish vocabulary could supply, to express
+her horror and detestation of the conduct
+of the rector and Mrs Penrose, the two ladies
+laid their heads together, and seriously discussed
+the advisability of writing to the bishop of the
+diocese and sending him the incriminating letter.
+However, they finally decided to do nothing
+before Miss Masterman’s return to Sunnydale;
+and in the meantime, Lady O’Leary undertook
+to be on the watch, and to keep her friend
+<i>au courant</i> as to what was going on in the
+parish.</p>
+
+<p>It was late that evening when Miss Masterman
+returned to the rectory, and by going up directly
+to her room, she avoided meeting the rector. The
+next morning she pleaded headache as an excuse
+for having her breakfast sent up to her; and did
+not come down until, from her window, she
+had seen Mr Draycott leave the house, knowing
+he would be away for some hours. He left
+a polite message with his wife, regretting that
+he had not been able to say good-bye in person
+to Miss Masterman.</p>
+
+<p>‘The wily hypocrite!’ thought that lady.
+‘He little thinks that his guilt is no secret to
+me. But such atrocity shall not go unpunished!’</p>
+
+<p>When she took leave of Mrs Draycott, she
+astonished that lady by holding her hand for
+some moments as she gazed mournfully into her
+face; then, with a final commiserating glance,
+the worthy spinster hurried into her fly. As
+she drove away, she leant forward and waved
+her hand to the assembled family with such
+effusion, that Mrs Draycott exclaimed: ‘Dear
+me, I fear I have done Miss Masterman injustice.
+I had no idea that she possessed so much feeling
+as she showed just now. One would really
+think she was going for good, instead of only
+ten days!’</p>
+
+<p>‘No such luck,’ cried the irrepressible Hubert.
+‘But, at all events, we have got rid of her for
+a week at least; so now, we’ll enjoy ourselves,
+and forget all about “Pobe” till she turns up
+again!’—a resolution which the young gentleman
+did not fail to keep most faithfully.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Miss Masterman was busily
+employed at Bradborough in quelling orphans
+and other myrmidons, and reducing things in
+general to complete subjection to her will; but
+with regard to Mr Lambe, she found her task
+more difficult than she expected. In fact, the
+worm had turned; and on her summoning him
+to her presence and opening the vials of her
+wrath on his devoted head, he calmly but firmly
+announced his intention of sending his resignation
+to his bishop; which took Miss Masterman
+so completely by surprise, that, in her bewilderment,
+she actually asked him to reconsider his
+decision. But though she even went so far as
+to give her consent to the orphans having their
+coveted treat, Mr Lambe’s determination was not
+to be shaken.</p>
+
+<p>The following week flew swiftly away; a good
+deal of correspondence devolved upon Miss Masterman
+through having to think of a successor
+to Mr Lambe, and the lady of the manor was
+very much worried. At last, however, everything
+was settled, and Miss Masterman began to
+think of returning to Sunnydale, where, as she
+felt, fresh anxieties and most painful duties
+awaited her.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="POPULAR_LEGAL_FALLACIES1" title="POPULAR LEGAL FALLACIES.">POPULAR LEGAL FALLACIES.<a id="FNanchor_1_1" href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2>
+
+<p class="ph3">BY AN EXPERIENCED PRACTITIONER.</p></div>
+
+
+<h3><i>DEEDS OF GIFT AND WILLS.—I.</i></h3>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">One</span> of the most universally believed fallacies
+is that it is better to make a deed of gift than
+a will for the disposal of property. Nothing
+can be more dangerous than this delusion, as
+we have often had occasion to observe in the
+course of our experience. A deed of gift—pure
+and simple—is a document under seal evidencing
+the fact that certain property specified therein
+has been absolutely given by the donor to the
+donee, without any reservation for the benefit
+of the former, or any power for him to revoke
+the gift or resume possession of the property
+in any circumstances. If the deed contains a
+condition that the donor shall have the enjoyment
+of the property during his life, and that
+he shall have a right to recall the gift thereby
+made, and dispose of the property in some other
+way, then the document is to all intents and
+purposes a will; and if it is only executed and
+attested as an ordinary deed, it is altogether void,
+in consequence of non-compliance with the directions
+contained in the Wills Act, 1837, which
+very properly requires more precautions against
+fraud and forgery in the case of a will than
+in the case of a deed. We say ‘very properly,’
+because the will does not take effect during the
+lifetime of the testator; and therefore the greatest
+safeguard is removed by his death before the document
+can be acted upon or its authenticity be
+likely to be questioned. This is a common oversight.
+The deed is prepared and duly stamped;
+and in consequence of the insertion of the powers
+alluded to above, it proves to be utterly useless,
+when, after the decease of the donor, his property
+is claimed by his heir-at-law and next
+of kin because of his having died intestate. It
+may occasion some surprise that any solicitor
+will prepare a deed which he knows cannot
+stand the test of litigation; but this is not altogether
+the fault of the profession. In many cases,
+the danger is pointed out; but if the donor is
+determined to dispose of his own property in
+his own way, who can gainsay him? If he
+cannot get what he requires in one office, he
+will go to another; and we have several times
+lost clients in consequence of our refusal to
+prepare such a deed; all our arguments being
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_716">{716}</span>met by the reply that there would be no duties
+to pay to the government if the deed were executed;
+a complete fallacy in many cases, as we
+have afterwards had occasion to know, when
+we have seen what followed the decease of the
+misguided donor.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, if there is a genuine gift,
+and possession is given in accordance with the
+deed, what then? One case which came under
+our notice may illustrate the danger against
+which we have frequently protested in vain.
+A retired merchant invested the whole of his
+savings in a freehold estate which would produce
+sufficient annual income to supply all his
+wants and leave a good margin for future accumulations.
+Being a widower, in somewhat infirm
+health, he took up his residence in the house
+of his younger son, the elder being an irreclaimable
+reprobate. Unfortunately, the wife of
+this younger son was an artful and avaricious
+woman, whose sole reason for consenting to the
+arrangement as to residence was the hope of future
+gain. The old gentleman had an insurmountable
+objection to making a will—not an uncommon
+weakness—as it reminded him too forcibly of
+the time when he would have to leave his fine
+estate and go over to the great majority. At
+length, after urgent and repeated representations
+as to the risk of his estate being sold by his
+dissipated heir-at-law in case of his dying intestate,
+he was persuaded to execute a deed of gift
+to his younger son, to whom at the same time
+he handed the title-deeds relating to the estate.
+Soon afterwards, a quarrel arose between the
+donor and his daughter-in-law; and the latter
+persuaded her husband—whose moral principles
+were as weak as those of his brother, though
+in a different way—to sell the estate, and then
+turn his father out of his house. After his
+ignominious dismissal, the poor old gentleman
+went to the house of a nephew, who soon tired
+of supporting him; and eventually he was obliged
+to go into the workhouse, altogether neglected
+to the time of his death by all his relatives,
+except his graceless elder son; and alas! he
+could not assist his aged parent, as he was
+himself almost destitute. This may appear to be
+an extreme case; but it is not a solitary one,
+although it is one of the worst of those which
+have come under our own observation.</p>
+
+<p>This brief narrative may serve as an introduction
+to the explanation of one remarkable
+peculiarity in the practical working of a deed of
+gift of real estate. Personal property may of
+course be sold, and the sale completed by delivery
+of the goods or other chattels to the purchaser;
+but actual possession of land is no clue to the
+ownership thereof, the title being evidenced by
+deeds in the general way, the exceptions being
+those cases in which land has descended to the
+heir in consequence of the intestacy of the former
+owner; and also those cases in which long-continued
+possession has given an impregnable
+title to a person who was originally a mere
+trespasser, or at the most a tenant whose landlord
+has been lost sight of. When the freehold
+estate above mentioned was given away and the
+gift was evidenced by deed and actual possession,
+the donor lost the power of again giving it away
+either by deed or by his will. But he might
+have sold the property if he could have found
+a purchaser willing to complete without actual
+possession of the title-deeds; which, however,
+he might afterwards have recovered from the
+holder thereof; the reason for this being, that
+where there are two inconsistent titles, both
+derived from the same person, but one depending
+upon an actual sale and payment by the purchaser
+of the price agreed upon, while the other
+rests upon no better foundation than a mere
+voluntary act on the part of the donor, the title
+of the purchaser will prevail, because of the
+valuable consideration which he has paid; while
+the other person has paid nothing. On the other
+hand, if the donee, before he is dispossessed or
+his title superseded by a conveyance for value,
+were to sell the property, and if the sale were
+completed and the purchase-money paid, the
+donor would have lost his right to sell. Having
+placed the donee in a position to make a good
+title to the property, he must take the consequences
+of his own folly. We once had the
+pleasure of saving for the benefit of the vendor
+the value of an estate which he had previously
+given away; greatly to the astonishment of the
+donee, who supposed himself to be safely possessed
+of the whole estate.</p>
+
+<p>It will be understood that our remarks have
+no application to marriage settlements or similar
+documents in which extensive though limited
+powers of appointment are generally reserved to
+the settler, the power extending over the whole
+estate or a specified part thereof; while the
+persons to be the beneficiaries are strictly defined;
+and powers are also given to him to direct the
+payment of portions to his younger children, and
+to charge them upon the estate which is comprised
+in the settlement. This is the legitimate
+way in which a landed proprietor can provide for
+his family; and the only serious objection which
+has ever been made thereto is that it has a
+tendency to perpetuate the descent of the estates,
+instead of their distribution and subdivision into
+smaller properties. But these documents are
+beyond the scope of this paper. What we
+strongly object to are voluntary deeds of gift,
+which are generally made for the purpose of
+avoiding the payment of legacy and succession
+duty, but lead too frequently to disastrous consequences.
+They are beneficial to the legal profession,
+often leading to costly and harassing
+litigation; but to the intended recipients of the
+bounty of the donor, and sometimes to the donor
+himself, they are in a corresponding degree
+injurious.</p>
+
+<p>Attention may here be called to the provisions
+of the Customs and Inland Revenue Act, 1881,
+on the subject of voluntary gifts of personal
+property made for the purpose of avoiding the
+payment of the duties accruing due on the death
+of the owner of personal estate. By this Act,
+duty is payable at the like rates as the ordinary
+probate duty on voluntary gifts which may have
+been made by any person dying after 1st June
+1881, whether such gift may have been made in
+contemplation of approaching death or otherwise,
+if the donor has not lived three calendar months
+afterwards; or by voluntarily causing property to
+be transferred to or vested in himself and some
+other person jointly, so as to give such other person
+benefit of survivorship; or by deed or other
+instrument not taking effect as a will, whereby
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_717">{717}</span>an interest is reserved to the donor for life, or
+whereby he may have reserved to himself the
+right, by the exercise of any power, to reclaim
+the absolute interest in such property. This
+enactment removes the last argument in favour
+of deeds of gift, for they do not now have the
+effect of avoiding the payment of probate duty;
+and in any event, since 19th May 1853, succession
+duty has always been payable in respect
+of the benefit acquired by the successor by reason
+of the decease of his predecessor in title. The
+case of a voluntary settlement in respect of
+which the stamp duty has been paid is provided
+for by a direction that on production of
+such deed duly stamped, the stamp duty thereon
+may be returned. Personal estate includes leasehold
+property.</p>
+
+<p>With respect to wills, the position is very different.
+Every man who has any property of
+any kind ought to make a will, especially if he
+desires his property to be distributed in any way
+different from the mode prescribed by law in
+case of his intestacy. Many cases occur in which
+the neglect to make a will is not only foolish
+but positively wrong. A husband has a duty
+to perform towards his wife which cannot be
+omitted without culpability; and the same may
+be said of the duty of a parent to his children.
+As to the former, there is a danger which is often
+unsuspected by the owner of real estate. The
+law provides that on the death of such a person
+intestate, leaving a widow, she shall be entitled
+to dower out of such estate; that is to say, one-third
+of the rents thereof during the remainder
+of her life; but this right to dower is subject
+to any disposition which the owner of the estate
+may have made thereof, or any charges which
+he may have created thereon. In England,
+there is no inalienable share of property which
+the widow and children can claim, even as
+against the devisee, as is the case in Scotland.
+But there is a power to bar the right of the
+widow to her dower by means of a declaration
+to that effect in the conveyance to a purchaser,
+or in any deed subsequently executed
+by him relating to the property. It must be
+observed that the declaration in bar of dower
+is not necessary for the purpose of creating
+charges upon the estate, because dower is expressly
+made subject to such charges. But if
+the declaration has been inserted in the conveyance—without
+the knowledge of the purchaser—his
+widow will have no claim to any provision
+out of such estate unless it shall be made for
+her by the will of her husband, who, in ignorance
+of the necessity for making a will, dies
+intestate, thus leaving his widow dependent upon
+his heir-at-law; in numerous cases, a distant
+relative, who is not disposed to acknowledge
+that the widow of his predecessor has any claim
+upon him.</p>
+
+<p>Again, as to his children, the possessor of real
+estate ought not to forget that in the case of freehold
+property it will descend upon his eldest
+son as heir-at-law; thus leaving his younger
+sons and his daughters unprovided for except
+as to their respective shares of his personal estate,
+which may be of small value, or even insufficient
+for the payment of his debts. If the property
+should be copyhold, it would descend to the
+customary heir, who might be the eldest son,
+the youngest son, or all the sons as tenants in
+common in equal undivided shares; but in any
+event, the daughters would remain unprovided
+for.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="A_DEAD_SHOT">A DEAD SHOT.</h2>
+
+<p class="ph3">AN INCIDENT IN 1801.</p></div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> following singular story is perhaps worth
+putting on record because the narrative is strictly
+true.</p>
+
+<p>In the year 1801, a fine old Jacobean house,
+known as Chatford House, situated on the borders
+of Devon and Somerset, was in the occupation
+of a Mr Edward Leggett, a wealthy farmer, and
+his two sons. The house, like many of its class,
+had originally been built so that its ground-plan
+formed the letter <img class="illowe0_75" src="images/letter_e.jpg" alt="E,">
+a centre, with projecting
+doorway, and two wings; but one wing had
+been taken down altogether, as well as a portion
+of the other, so that the ground-plan became
+thereby altered and took this form, 
+  <img class="illowe0_75" src="images/letter_e_bar_removed.jpg" alt="E with the top bar removed,">
+the centre
+doorway remaining untouched. This should be
+remembered, in order to understand the circumstances
+of the principal incident of the narrative.
+Over the projecting doorway was a room which
+went by the name of the ‘Oratory,’ probably on
+account of its large projecting bay window, which
+gave it somewhat of an ecclesiastical appearance,
+and from this window a view could be obtained
+on all sides. The small part of the wing which
+was left standing was used as storerooms, and
+access from the outside was gained by a small
+door, which had been injudiciously opened in
+the corner, or angle, when the alterations were
+made.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Leggett possessed a large quantity of very
+fine old massive silver-plate, which was placed
+in one of the storerooms, strongly secured and
+locked, in the remains of the wing referred to.
+It was supposed that he had also a considerable
+sum of money locked up with the plate, as banking
+was not so common in remote country-places
+in those days.</p>
+
+<p>Now it happened that, on the 23d of April
+1801, Mr Leggett and his two sons had to attend
+a neighbouring cattle fair, and had proposed to
+sleep in the town, instead of returning home the
+same night; but, a good customer having arranged
+to complete a purchase early the next morning,
+Mr Leggett’s eldest son, George, came back to
+Chatford very late and went quietly to bed;
+but the worry of the fair, and anxiety about
+to-morrow’s purchase, prevented him sleeping.
+His bedroom was at the end of the house, close
+to the store wing, and just above the little door
+in the angle already mentioned. Whilst restlessly
+tossing about from side to side, young
+Leggett heard the house clock strike two, and
+just after became aware of a peculiar grating
+noise, apparently under his window. To jump
+up and cautiously and silently open the casement
+was the work of a minute. It was a
+cloudy moonlight night, just light enough to
+show objects imperfectly, but enough for George
+Leggett to observe the figures of two men close
+to the little door in the angle immediately below,
+on which they were apparently operating with
+some cutting tool, which had produced the grating
+noise he had heard. George, who was a young
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_718">{718}</span>man of great intelligence, quick judgment, and
+ready resource, instantly comprehending the situation,
+took his measures accordingly. He happened
+to be a member of the county yeomanry cavalry;
+and catching up his carabine and some ball
+cartridges, he silently left his room, and proceeding
+down the corridor—loading his carabine
+as he went along—soon reached the ‘Oratory’
+room over the porch, whence he could see straight
+down on to the little door, which was then right
+in front of him. Silently opening the casement,
+he made a careful survey of the position, which
+a passing ray of moonlight enabled him to take
+in at a glance.</p>
+
+<p>At the little white-painted door were the two
+men, whose dark figures were well thrown
+up by so light a background. One was stooping
+or kneeling, and the other was standing
+close behind him, their backs, of course, being
+turned towards their observer. Putting his carabine
+on full-cock and laying it carefully on the
+window-sill, after a deliberate aim, Leggett pressed
+the trigger. A loud shriek and a stifled cry
+followed, then all was still. Leggett stood intently
+watching the spot for several moments;
+but profound silence prevailed—not a sound was
+heard, not a movement was perceptible. The
+only other man in the house was the groom,
+who was quickly roused; and lanterns having
+been procured, he and Leggett repaired to the
+spot, and were not a little staggered to find both
+burglars lying dead. The hand of one of them
+still grasped a very large steel centre-bit, with
+which he had been operating on the door. Subsequent
+surgical investigation showed that the
+bullet had struck the back of the first man,
+passing through his heart, and had then entered
+the head of the man who was stooping or kneeling
+in front of him, just behind the ear, lodging in
+the brain. The bodies were at once removed
+in-doors; and at the inquest, held the next day,
+the following particulars were elicited:</p>
+
+<p>By the side of the dead men was found a
+leather travelling portmanteau, containing a
+highly finished and elaborate set of housebreaking
+tools, together with a piece of candle
+and a preparation of phosphorus for obtaining
+a light, as it is needless to say that lucifer
+matches were unknown in 1801, their place being
+supplied by the old-fashioned flint and steel and
+tinder-box, articles not available for burglars’ use.
+Each man was armed with a brace of pocket
+pistols, loaded and primed; and one of them
+carried a formidable-looking dagger, fitted into
+the breast of his coat; clearly showing that these
+ruffians were prepared to offer a desperate resistance,
+if interrupted or molested. They were
+both well dressed, and had quite the appearance
+of gentlemen. Each possessed a good watch and
+seals, and carried a well-filled purse. One only
+had a pocket-book, containing many papers, chiefly
+relating to money matters and betting transactions;
+but only one letter, which, however, proved
+of immense importance in throwing light on the
+lives and characters of the deceased burglars,
+and in telling the story of the attempted robbery.
+The letter was directed to ‘Mr John Bellamy,’
+at an address in Shoreditch, London, and was
+dated from Roxburn, the name of a large neighbouring
+farm, and bore the initials ‘J. P.,’ which,
+with the writing, were at once recognised at the
+inquest as those of ‘James Palmer,’ the managing
+bailiff at Roxburn Farm, a clever and unscrupulous
+fellow, without any regard for truth or
+principle, well known in those parts, but a man
+whom nobody liked and everybody distrusted.
+This communication was in these few but significant
+words: ‘The 23d will do best; coast clear,
+no fear, all straight.—J. P.’</p>
+
+<p>This letter, with the tools and a full report
+of the whole case, was at once sent to Bow Street,
+London, and an investigation made by the ‘Bow
+Street runners’—the detectives of those days—for
+there were then no regular ‘police,’ as we
+now understand the term. On searching the
+premises in Shoreditch, indicated in the letter,
+where John Bellamy lived, it was discovered
+that the supposed John Bellamy was no other
+than ‘Jack Rolfe,’ one of the most successful professional
+burglars of that day; and the authorities
+hesitated not to express their satisfaction that his
+career had been so cleverly cut short.</p>
+
+<p>An immense quantity of stolen property, of
+almost every description, was found at Rolfe’s
+lodgings in Shoreditch; and what was more
+important—as regards the present narrative at
+least—a correspondence extending over three
+or four years between Mr James Palmer of
+Roxburn Farm and the arch-burglar John
+Bellamy, alias Jack Rolfe himself, by which it
+appeared that this robbery had been planned
+and arranged by Palmer, who had supplied Rolfe
+with the fullest information as to Mr Leggett’s
+plate and money, as well as a neatly drawn plan
+of the premises, which was found amongst the
+papers. Palmer had also arranged the date of
+the robbery for the 23d of April, as he had
+discovered that Mr Leggett and his two sons
+intended to sleep out that night. Nor was this
+all; for only a few weeks previously, the rascal
+had had the effrontery to invite Rolfe to pay
+him a visit at Roxburn, under colour of his
+being a personal friend, which invitation Rolfe
+had readily accepted; and one of the witnesses
+at the inquest well remembered his coming, and
+at once recognised him in one of the dead men—he
+of the centre-bit. Rolfe was described
+as a quiet, pleasant, and rather gentlemanly
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Not far from Mr Leggett’s gate, a light cart
+and pony were found tethered early in the
+morning of the attempted robbery. The cart had
+been hired from a neighbouring market-town to
+convey the thieves to the scene of operations,
+and to bring them back with—as they fondly
+anticipated—a sackful of rich plunder. They
+had been staying a day or two at this inn as
+commercial travellers, calling themselves brothers,
+and giving the name of Sutton.</p>
+
+<p>On the evidence afforded by the correspondence
+found in Shoreditch, Palmer was apprehended;
+and further investigation brought out the fact
+that the notorious Jack Rolfe was not only his
+friend, correspondent, and accomplice, but his
+own brother also, Rolfe being merely an ‘alias’
+for his real name of Palmer. The two men were
+very much alike both in face and figure; and
+it came out in evidence that they belonged to
+a family of burglars and sharpers. One brother
+had been transported for life for robbery and
+violence; another was then in prison for fraud
+and theft; James had just been apprehended;
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_719">{719}</span>and John had been shot dead whilst plying his
+trade. James appeared to have been the only
+member who had held a respectable position—that
+of manager of Roxburn Farm, and he could
+not keep away from dishonest practices. It was
+also further discovered that Palmer had been an
+accomplice in two or three mysterious burglaries
+which had been perpetrated in the neighbourhood
+during the two or three previous years, in
+which the thieves had displayed an accurate
+knowledge—even to minute details—of the premises
+attacked, the habits of the inmates, and
+the drawers or closets where valuables were
+kept. All this was due to the planning and
+arranging of the brother James, who could at his
+leisure quietly take his measures on the spot;
+which were then carefully communicated to his
+brother John, who ultimately became the willing
+executant. Palmer was shortly after brought to
+trial, convicted, and sentenced to fourteen years’
+transportation.</p>
+
+<p>The verdict of the coroner’s jury was ‘justifiable
+homicide;’ for in those days of desperate and
+well-armed burglars, the shooting of one or two
+of these gentry, whilst in the act of plying their
+nefarious calling, was considered not only a clever
+but a meritorious action.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_EVIDENCE_OF_THE_SENSES">THE EVIDENCE OF THE SENSES.</h2></div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> senses are the witnesses which bring in
+evidence from the outer world, without which
+that world would for us have no existence at all;
+but the mind sits aloft on the judgment-seat
+and forms its conclusions from the evidence laid
+before it; and these conclusions are for the
+most part wonderfully correct; for, though the
+testimony of one sense alone might lead the
+mind to form an erroneous opinion, this can
+be rectified by discovering what one or more
+of the other senses have to say on the same
+subject. When, however—as sometimes happens
+under peculiar circumstances—the evidence of
+one sense only is available, the mind may very
+readily arrive at a false conclusion. As an
+instance of this may be cited what is often observed
+by surgeons in cases of hip-joint disease.
+The patient, usually a child, complains of severe
+pain in the knee, which, however, has not, so
+far as can be ascertained, been injured in any
+way. Very likely, the pain is severe enough
+to prevent sleep at night, so that there can be
+no doubt about its existence, and it may perhaps
+have been almost continuous for some time past.
+Now, in such a case the surgeon will have a
+shrewd suspicion of what is really amiss, and
+very often will at once proceed to examine the
+hip. This he will do, too, in spite of assurances
+on the part of the parents that the patient always
+complains of the knee and of that joint only.
+He does not doubt that the pain feels as if it
+was in the knee, but he strongly suspects, nevertheless,
+that the disease is in the hip; and this
+often proves to be the case. This is an instance
+of what is called ‘referred sensation.’ The nerve
+which conveys sensation from the knee also sends
+a branch to the hip-joint, and it is this anatomical
+fact which explains the phenomenon. It
+might be expected that even if the pain was
+not felt solely in the hip, it would at least be
+always felt there as well as in the knee. This,
+however, though sometimes the case, is by no
+means always so. In this instance, the patient
+comes not unnaturally to the conclusion that
+where he feels the pain, there the cause of the
+pain must of necessity be situated. He would
+be quite ready to declare that there was nothing
+the matter with his hip, for he cannot see into
+the joint and discover the disease there. He has,
+in fact, to depend upon the evidence of one sense
+only, and the conclusion based upon the evidence
+of the single sensation of pain, is false.</p>
+
+<p>Another instance in which the testimony of
+one sense alone may lead to a false conclusion
+as to the whereabouts of the cause of a pain is
+found in what often takes place after the amputation
+of a limb. Most people are aware that
+after part of a limb has been removed by the
+surgeon’s knife, the patient may still feel as
+though his arm or leg, as the case may be, was
+entire, may feel much pain in the foot when the
+leg has been amputated far above the ankle.
+Here, in recovering from the effects of the anæsthetic,
+were it not for the additional evidence
+of his eyesight, the patient might well doubt
+whether his limb had been removed at all. The
+amusing story, in Marryat’s <i>Jacob Faithful</i>, of the
+old sailor who, having two wooden legs, was
+accustomed at times to wrap them up in flannel
+on account of the rheumatic pains which he said
+he felt in them, is not so very extravagant after
+all. It is not, however, altogether correct, as
+it represents the man feeling these pains in his
+legs <i>long</i> after they had been amputated. As a
+matter of fact, the false impression passes off
+before very long. The explanation given by
+physiologists is as follows: The severed nerve
+in the stump is irritated and gives rise to pain;
+and inasmuch as irritation to this nerve-trunk
+has hitherto been always caused by irritation of
+its ultimate filaments distributed to the foot and
+leg, the mind continues for some time to believe
+that the sensation still proceeds from thence.</p>
+
+<p>We may glance at another and very similar
+instance of referred sensations occurring also in
+surgical practice. Amongst the rarer operations
+of what is termed plastic, and, by Sir James
+Paget, ‘decorative’ surgery is that by which a
+new nose is formed by calling in the aid of the
+tissue of other parts of the body. This has
+been done by bringing a flap of skin cut from
+the forehead down over the nasal bones. The
+flap retains its connection with the deeper
+tissues at a point between the eyes by means
+of a small pedicle, and thus its blood-vessels
+and nerves are not all severed. This flap is
+not simply pulled down from the forehead—it
+is twisted at the pedicle, so that the raw surface
+lies on the bones of the nose. Now, for
+some time after this operation has been performed,
+any irritation in the nose is referred by the
+mind to that part of the forehead from which the
+flap of skin was taken; and therefore, if a fly
+crawls over the patient’s nose, it appears to him
+to be creeping across his forehead. Before the
+operation, whenever the nerve-ends in the flap
+were irritated, it was caused by something touching
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_720">{720}</span>the forehead, and it is some time before the mind
+ceases to refer such irritation to that part of
+the face.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving, now, the domain of surgery, we may
+notice two simple experiments mentioned by
+physiologists, which all can perform for themselves.
+They both prove that conclusions formed
+upon the evidence of the sense of touch alone
+may be quite incorrect. By crossing the
+second finger over the first, and then placing
+a marble between the tips of the fingers, we
+get a sensation that leads us to suppose that
+there must be two marbles instead of one only.
+This is because two points in the fingers are
+touched simultaneously, which in the ordinary
+position could only be touched at the same
+moment by two marbles. Judging, then, from
+the sense of touch alone, the mind infers that
+there are two round hard substances beneath
+the finger-tips; but the evidence of eyesight and
+the knowledge that we have placed but one
+marble in position, corrects the misapprehension.
+Again, if we take a pair of compasses the points
+of which are not sufficiently sharp to prick the
+skin, and separating the extremities rather more
+than an inch from one another, draw them
+across the cheek transversely from a little in
+front of one ear to the lips, we shall be tempted
+to think, from the evidence of touch alone, that
+the points are becoming more widely separated.
+By measuring the distance between the two points
+afterwards, we can assure ourselves that this has
+not been so; but whilst the compasses were being
+drawn along the cheek, and still more when they
+had reached the lips, the impression that the
+distance between the points increased was very
+strong. This delusion is said to depend upon
+the fact, that some parts of the cutaneous covering
+of the body are much more plentifully
+supplied with nerves than others. It is stated
+that the mind probably forms its idea of the
+distance between two points on the skin which
+are irritated in any way—as, for instance, by
+the points of a pair of compasses touching the
+surface—by the number of nerve-endings lying
+between these two points which remain unirritated.
+Thus, if there be fewer unirritated nerve-endings
+lying between the two points of the
+compasses when placed on the cheek, than there
+are when they are placed at the lips, the mind
+will infer that the distance between these points
+is smaller in the former position than in the
+latter.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak smalltext" id="THE_STATES_NEGLECT_OF_DENTISTRY">THE STATE’S NEGLECT OF DENTISTRY.</h2></div>
+
+
+<p>The machinery of the State is so vast that it
+may well be imperfect here and there. It frequently
+falls to the lot of individuals to point
+out how the tide of progress has left details in
+a condition of inefficiency. We note a recent
+instance of this. In August last, at the annual
+meeting of the British Dental Association, Mr
+George Cunningham, one of its members, drew
+attention to the backwardness of the practice of
+dentistry in the various departments of the
+State. The substance of his case amounted to
+this: In the army and navy, unskilled practitioners
+wielded uncouth and inefficient instruments
+in following antiquated and unscientific
+methods; while the police force and the employees
+of the India and Post offices by no means
+derived the full advantages of this department
+of medical science. Mr Cunningham was bold
+enough to include the inmates of prisons among
+those whose interests were neglected; and of
+course the principle of the humane treatment
+of criminals is already conceded in the appointment
+of jail chaplains and surgeons. We need
+not enter here into the voluminous details with
+which Mr Cunningham substantiated his case.
+The broad conclusions he would seem to draw
+are these: that the medical practitioner employed
+by the State should possess a more
+thorough knowledge of dentistry; that, where
+necessary, the services of the completely trained
+and qualified dentist should be secured; and that
+full resort should be had to the remedial resources
+of dental science. Seeing the suffering
+caused by diseases of the teeth, and the subtle
+and intimate connection existing between dental
+and other maladies, we trust Mr Cunningham’s
+paper may receive the consideration it would
+seem to deserve.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak smalltext" id="THE_BOARD_OF_TRADE_JOURNAL">THE BOARD OF TRADE JOURNAL.</h2></div>
+
+
+<p>Persons wishing to keep up their information
+on subjects connected with trade and changes in
+foreign tariffs may do so by consulting the <i>Board
+of Trade Journal</i>, the first numbers of which have
+just been issued. An attempt is also made in
+this journal to give the public information as
+to trade movements abroad, from the communications
+of the different consuls and colonial
+governors. Some of the periodical statistical
+returns of the Board of Trade will also be
+included from time to time. Such a journal
+deserves the support of all merchants and manufacturers
+at all interested in our foreign trade.
+Formerly, the commercial Reports from Her
+Majesty’s representatives abroad did not see the
+light for months, or perhaps a year, after they
+were received; now, these have some chance of
+being really useful to persons interested in foreign
+trade and to the community at large.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="LOVES_SEASONS">LOVE’S SEASONS.</h2></div>
+
+
+<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Love</span> came to my heart with the earliest swallow,</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">The lark’s blithe matins and breath of Spring;</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">With hyacinth-bell and with budding sallow,</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">And all the promise the year could bring.</div></div>
+
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Love dwelt in my heart while the Summer roses</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">Poured forth their incense on every hand;</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">And from wood and meadow and garden-closes</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">The sweet bird-voices made glad the land.</div></div>
+
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Love grew in my heart to its full fruition</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">When Autumn lavished her gifts untold,</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">And answered earth’s myriad-voiced petition</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">With orchard-treasure and harvest-gold.</div></div>
+
+<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Love waned in my heart when the snows were shaken</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">From Winter’s hand o’er the rose’s bed;</div>
+<div class="verse indent0">And never again shall my soul awaken</div>
+<div class="verse indent2">At Hope’s glad summons—for Love lies dead.</div>
+<div class="attrib">W. P. W.</div></div>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="full">
+
+<p class="center">Printed and Published by <span class="smcap">W. &amp; R. Chambers</span>, 47 Paternoster
+Row, <span class="smcap">London</span>, and 339 High Street, <span class="smcap">Edinburgh</span>.</p>
+
+<hr class="full">
+
+<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved.</i></p>
+
+<hr class="full">
+
+<div class="footnotes"><p class="ph3">FOOTNOTES:</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_1" href="#FNanchor_1_1" class="label">[1]</a> It should be understood that this series of articles
+deals mainly with English as apart from Scotch law.</p></div></div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75449 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #75449 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75449)