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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/75692-0.txt b/75692-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8def410 --- /dev/null +++ b/75692-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1837 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75692 *** + + + + + +[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. 151.—VOL. III. SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1886. PRICE 1½_d._] + + + + +NOTHING NEW. + + +Antiquaries are always delighted to remind us that there is nothing new +under the sun. When we boast of the great European art of printing, +they bring in the Chinese as evidence against us. Certain it is, +however, that the Romans used movable types to mark their pottery +and bread, and even to indorse their scroll-books. But if this is +to be called printing, then the Accadians, and their successors the +Assyrians, did the like on a grand scale many centuries before. To the +last-named people, moreover, must be ascribed, so far as we at present +know, the invention of a magnifying lens of rock-crystal, a thing +so well made, that Sir David Brewster pronounced it a true optical +instrument. It was found amid the ruins of Nimroud by Layard. + +It is curious to see also how great natural laws have been dimly +apprehended centuries before they were rendered demonstrable. The law +of gravitation was undoubtedly discerned by Sir Isaac Newton; but it is +remarkable that in Cary’s translation of Dante’s _Inferno_ an idea very +like it occurs, namely: + + Thou wast on the other side, so long as I + Descended; when I turned, thou did’st o’erpass + That point, to which from every part is dragged + All heavy substance. + +Of this passage, Monti remarks that if it had met the eye of Newton, +it might better have awakened his thought to conceive the system of +attraction than the accidental fall of an apple. + +For fifty or sixty years before any real light was thrown upon the +nature of gravitation, Pedro Mexia of Seville had a clear and correct +idea of its action. Thus, in his _Silva de Varia Leccion_ (published +in 1542, and which in various translations was in great demand until +the middle of the seventeenth century), the following appears: ‘The +sky is above in all parts of the earth, and the centre of the earth +is below, towards which all heavy things naturally tend from whatever +side of the earth; so that if God had made a hole, which by a true +diameter passing through the whole earth, from the point where we are, +as far as the other opposite and contrary to this, on the other side +of the earth, passed through the centre of it: then if one dropped a +plummet, as masons do, know that it would not pass to the other side of +the earth, but would stop and place itself in the centre of it; and if +from the other side one let fall another, they would meet together in +the very centre, and there they would stop. It is quite true that the +force might well cause the plummet to pass somewhat beyond, because its +movement, so long as it was going towards the centre, would naturally +be accelerated, passing somewhat beyond, but in the end it would return +to its place.’ + +Of this old Spanish work, an English translation was made by T. +Fortescue, and printed in London in 1576, entitled _The Forest, +or Collection of Historyes, no less profitable than pleasant and +necessary_. Another appeared in 1613 with sundry essays by other +authors, entitled _The Treasurie of Ancient and Modern Times_. +Considering that London publishing was on a small scale two and three +centuries ago, it is difficult to believe that Newton missed seeing +these works, even if he had not heard of the original. At anyrate, he +must in all probability have read what Shakspeare, borrowing probably +from the same source, puts into the mouth of Cressida: + + But the strong base and building of my love + Is as the very centre of the earth, + Drawing all things to it. + + _Troilus and Cressida_, act iv. scene 2. + +Some anticipations of telegraphy are also very interesting. Galileo, in +his _Dialogues on the Two Systems of the World_, that is, the Ptolemaic +and Copernican, and which he wrote in 1632, makes Sagredo say: ‘You +remind me of one who offered to sell me a secret art, by which, through +the attraction of a certain magnet needle, it would be possible to +converse across a space of two or three thousand miles. I said to him +that I would willingly become the purchaser, provided only that I might +first make a trial of the art, and that it would be sufficient for the +purpose if I were to place myself in one corner of the sofa and he in +the other. He replied that in so short a distance the action would be +scarcely discernible; so I dismissed the fellow, and said that it was +not convenient for me just then to travel into Egypt or Muscovy for +the purpose of trying the experiment; but that if he chose to go there +himself, I would remain in Venice and attend to the rest.’ + +It appears, however, that telegraphy took form as an idea two thousand +years ago, for Addison, in one of his delightful essays in the +_Spectator_ (No. 241), tells us that ‘Strada, in one of his Prolusions, +gives an account of a chimerical correspondence between two friends +by the help of a certain lodestone, which had such virtue in it, that +if it touched two several needles, when one of the needles so touched +began to move, the other, though at never so great a distance, moved +at the same time, and in the same manner. He tells us that the two +friends, being each of them possessed of one of these needles, made a +kind of a dial-plate, inscribing it with the four-and-twenty letters, +in the same manner as the hours of the day are marked upon the ordinary +dial-plate. They then fixed one of the needles on each of these plates +in such a manner that it could move round without impediment, so as to +touch any of the four-and-twenty letters. Upon their separating from +one another into distant countries, they agreed to withdraw themselves +punctually into their closets at a certain hour of the day and to +converse with one another by means of this their invention.’ + +In Homer’s _Odyssey_, translated by Pope, the following curious +description—originally detected by an ingenious mechanic—of the +Phœacian ships of old, has been well observed by the late Dr Birkbeck +to be no inaccurate description of steam-navigation: + + So shalt thou instant reach the realm assigned + In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind. + + * * * * * + + Though clouds and darkness veil the encumbered sky, + Fearless, through darkness and through clouds they fly; + Though tempests rage—though rolls the swelling main, + The seas may roll, the tempests swell in vain. + E’en the stern god that o’er the waves presides, + Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides, + With fury burns; whilst careless they convey + Promiscuous every guest to every bay. + +It would almost appear from the above passage, which for ages was +considered merely a bold flight of the imagination, that the ancients +were not unacquainted with some method beyond that of the ordinary +sail, of propelling vessels through water with safety and celerity. + +Even that horror of naval warfare, the fish-torpedo, seems to have been +once afloat in the mind of Ben Jonson, although there are good reasons +for thinking he derived the idea itself from Drummond the inventor, +whom he visited at Hawthornden in 1619. In Jonson’s play, _The Staple +of News_ (act iii. scene 1), we read: + + _Thomas._ They write here one Cornelius’ son + Hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel + To swim the Haven at Dunkirk, and sink all + The shipping there. + + _Pennyboy._ But how is’t done? + + _Cymbal._ I’ll show you, sir. + It’s an automa, runs under water + With a snug nose, and has a nimble tail + Made like an auger, with which tail she wriggles + Betwixt the coats of a ship, and sinks it straight. + + _Pennyboy._ A most brave device + To murder their flat bottoms! + +Some of the most beneficent and useful discoveries in medical science +appear to have been anticipated years ago. For example, certain skulls +of prehistoric man have afforded the clearest evidence that even at +that remote period the art of _trepanning_ must have been practised +upon them. A skull found in the tomb of the Incas, near the city of +Cuzco, exhibited distinct marks of having undergone a like operation. +According to a reputed discovery by M. Stanislaus Julien, it appears +that as far back as the third century of our era, the Chinese were in +possession of an anæsthetic agent which they employed during surgical +operations. A description of this was discovered by M. Julien in a work +preserved in the Bibliothèque Nationale, called _Kou-kin-i-tong_, or +a General Collection of Ancient and Modern Medicines, which appears +to have been published in the sixteenth century. In a biographical +notice of Hoa-tho, who flourished under the dynasty of Wei, between the +years 220 and 230 of our era, it is stated that he gave the patient a +preparation of _cannabis_ (_Ma-yo_), who in a few moments became as +insensible as one plunged in drunkenness or deprived of life; then, +according to the case, he made incisions, amputations, &c. After a +certain number of days, the patient found himself re-established, +without having experienced the slightest pain during the operation. It +appears from the biography of Han that this _cannabis_ was prepared by +boiling and distillation. + +Of the Germ Theory of disease, it must also be said, it is no +novelty. That noted physician, Athanasius Kircher, in his work on the +plague—published at Rome in 1658—attributed the origin of epidemics to +germs, or, as he termed them, animalcules. He argued that each kind of +putrefaction gives rise to a special virus, which produces a definite +species of malady. + +Even sticking-plaster is not a modern surgical appliance. One of +the highest living authorities in organic chemistry states that the +ordinary lead-plaster now so commonly used was said to be discovered by +the Roman physician Menecrates in the middle of the first century. + +Some readers of this _Journal_ will remember that while the British +Association was in progress at Montreal (1884), a telegram was received +from Mr Caldwell in Australia, notifying that he had found _monotremes +oviparous with mesoblastic ovum_—that is, that the ornithorhynchus, +the duck-bill or water mole, laid eggs. This piece of news greatly +interested naturalists, since it was justly regarded as furnishing one +more link in the chain of evidence tending to support the evolution +hypothesis. However, in a work entitled _The Literary Pancratium_, +by Robert and Thomas Swinburn Carr, published in London in 1832, a +quotation in the form of a footnote appears on page 8, as follows: ‘But +this is New Holland, where it is summer with us when it is winter in +Europe, and _vice versâ_; where the barometer rises before bad weather, +and falls before good; where the north is the hot wind, and the south +the cold; where the humblest house is fitted up with cedar; where +the fields are fenced with mahogany, and myrtle-trees are burnt for +firewood; where the _swans are black_ and the eagles white; where the +kangaroo, an animal between the squirrel and the deer, has five claws +on its forepaws and three talons on its hind-legs, like a bird, and +yet hops on its tail; where the mole lays eggs, and has a duck’s bill; +where there is a bird with a broom in its mouth instead of a tongue; +where there is a fish, one half belonging to the genus _Raja_, and the +other to that of _Squalus_; where the pears are made of wood, with the +stalk at the broader end; and where the cherry grows with the stone on +the outside.’—(Field’s _New South Wales_, page 461.) + +In striking contrast to all the above-named instances of rediscovery, +is that fact furnished by some Assyrian bas-reliefs—that is, that the +lion, or at least the Asiatic species, has a _claw_ in the tuft of +his tail. This fact, which, strangely enough, was disputed in classic +times, although forty years before the birth of Christ, Didymus +of Alexandria discovered it, had been quite overlooked by modern +naturalists. Soon after the finding of the sculpture, Mr Bennett, an +English zoologist, verified the observation. + +Homer’s famous story of the battle between the frogs and the mice is +doubtless a political satire. That the story was originally suggested +by actual observation is not an unreasonable fancy. Homer may even have +seen the mimic campaign for himself, for it is but a tradition that he +was blind. In a recent number of _Nature_, a correspondent states that +he saw a short time since several mice pursuing some frogs in a shed. +The alacrity of the reptiles rendered the attacks of the mice futile +for some time. ‘Again and again the frogs escaped from the clutches of +their foes, but only to be recaptured, severely shaken, and bitten.’ +They were at length ‘overpowered by the mice, which devoured a part of +them.’ + +The first scientific expedition on record is one in which Aristotle +was sent by Alexander the Great (more than 300 B.C.) for the purpose +of collecting subjects for a History of Animals. In this enterprise he +met with both the paper and the pearly nautilus; for in the _Historia +Animalium_, he says, after describing different forms of Cephalopods, +which no doubt abounded in Asiatic seas: ‘There are also two other +kinds of polypes which are in shells, the one [that is, the paper +nautilus] has a shell which is not naturally adherent to it; it feeds +very frequently near the land, and being cast by the waves on the sand, +the shell slips, and it dies; but the other [the pearly nautilus] +is in a shell in which it exists after the manner of a snail, and +outwardly extends its arms.’—(_Scaliger’s translation._) Nothing was +added to this account during the dark ages that succeeded, nor even +till some time after the revival of literature. No further information +respecting the nautilus was obtained until the discovery of a living +specimen early in the eighteenth century by Rumphius, a Dutch merchant +and naturalist, resident at Amboyna. His drawing of the soft parts +separated from the shell was greatly valued for more than a century +before another specimen was found, although the shells were cast ashore +in comparative abundance. This specimen was sent to Professor Owen, and +formed the subject of an elaborate memoir by him in 1832. It may be +said to have been the first to confirm the history of this remarkable +organism given more than two thousand years before. + +Here, then, we have another instance of modern research simply +verifying that which was an ancient discovery. + +It is even said that the stereoscope, which is Professor Wheatstone’s +invention, was known to Euclid, and minutely described by Galen, +the physician, sixteen centuries ago; moreover, it was still more +completely defined in the works of Baptista Porta in the year 1599. +As for photography, its discovery is by common consent referred to +Daguerre, who announced it to the Academy of Sciences in 1839. This +beautiful art has, however, been found clearly described by M. Jobard +in his _Nouvelles Inventions aux Expositions Universelles_, 1857, taken +from a translation from the German three hundred years ago. + +An ancient gold coin _recast_ is, after all, the same precious metal; +even so, truths long lost are, when found, restamped by human thought +and made current again for the world’s good. How few are privileged, or +have the genius, to enrich mankind with an original discovery! + + + + +BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE. + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +Le Gautier followed the footman into the drawing-room, where Enid +was engaged with some visitors—three tall showy-looking girls, with +an extremely vivacious mother. Le Gautier stood looking out of one +of the windows, and noticed with satisfaction their intention of a +speedy exit. For some moments the visitors remained chattering, and +then, after a profusion of compliments, accompanied by much laughter, +their voluminous skirts were heard switching down the broad staircase. +It has often been a matter of speculation as to whether a man can be +in love with two women at the same time; but without going into this +delicate question, it is possible to imagine a man with a penchant for +two women, though the experiment probably would be attended with great +hazard and danger. Le Gautier forgot the dark-eyed Marie, as he gazed +upon Enid’s fairer charms. + +‘You have heard nothing of Maxwell?’ he asked after a pause in the +desultory conversation. ‘A strange thing he does not write. Many men +would imagine that such a thing is not altogether an accident; there +are occasions when a little absence from the gaze of man is desirable, +Miss Charteris.’ + +‘Many men, as usual, would be wrong,’ Enid answered coldly. ‘You should +not shield your want of charity by these generalities, Monsieur le +Gautier, though perhaps you have derived benefit from these absences +yourself, you seem to understand the subject so thoroughly.’ + +Enid was angry at his cool insolence, and replied to his want of taste +by a little plain language herself; and her random shaft went home. + +‘You are severe; but really, while sorry for Maxwell, there is +something in it which is comforting to me. Can you not guess what I +mean?’ + +Enid Charteris, though guileless and pure as woman can be, had not +mixed with the great world for nothing. She had had suitors enough to +know what a proposal was, and above all things she dreaded one from +this man. Some instinct told her he would be a dangerous enemy. ‘You +speak in riddles,’ she said calmly. ‘I have not been educated to the +language of diplomacy. Pray, explain yourself.’ + +‘Then I must be more explicit. Maxwell’s absence rids me of a dangerous +rival. Now he is away, the path is all the smoother for me. Need I tell +you, Miss Charteris—Enid—that I love you? Surely you must have known +that for a long time past. While another was in the way, I sealed my +lips; but I can restrain myself no longer now.’ + +‘It would be affectation not to understand you,’ Enid replied with a +calmness that boded ill for Le Gautier’s success. ‘I am sorry to hear +it. If you are wise, you will not put me to the pain of a refusal.’ + +‘I will take no refusal,’ Le Gautier burst out passionately; ‘for I +swear that if you are not mine, you shall wed no other man. Enid, you +must, you shall be mine! You may look upon me coldly now, but the time +will come when you shall love me well enough.’ + +‘The time will come when I shall—love—you?’ The bitter scorn in +these words stung Le Gautier to madness, stirring up a desperate +passion in his veins, now that the prize seemed like slipping from +his grasp. He fell at her feet on his knees. ‘Hear me!’ he exclaimed +passionately—‘only listen to me, Enid. I have vowed that you are the +only woman I have chosen—the only girl I could really love. Such love +as mine must win a return some day; only try; only give me a little +chance of hope.’ + +‘If you are a man, you will rise from that absurd position. Who am I, +that you should kneel to me? You must take my word for it; and if you +have any consideration for my feelings, you will change the subject.’ + +‘And this is your absolute and final decision?’ + +‘Yes, it is my absolute and final decision.’ + +Le Gautier rose to his feet, pale but smiling, and there was a darkly +evil look upon his white set face. When he spoke again his words were +cold and incisive. ‘Consider, before you wilfully make an enemy of +me.’ He uttered the words with a low sibilation. ‘I have made you an +offer—the highest compliment I could pay, and you have scornfully +rejected it. The next favour you ask from me you may seek for on your +knees.’ + +‘And to what purpose, sir, shall _I_ ask a favour from _you_?’ + +‘For your father,’ Le Gautier answered quietly, though his tones were +deep and earnest. ‘You have guessed that Maxwell has gone away on a +dangerous mission. Why should not Sir Geoffrey be chosen in his turn? +And if so, who can save him? I, Hector le Gautier, and no other man.’ + +‘And by whose evil counsel has my poor father been dragged into your +infamous Brotherhood?—By yours alone! He would be a happy man now, if +he had never known you’—— + +‘On the contrary,’ Le Gautier interrupted, ‘I tried to save him. He has +joined on his own wish. You do not credit my words. Go and ask him now +if my words are not true, and that, if it is not his dearest wish that +you should become my wife.’ + +‘He might think so,’ Enid answered haughtily; ‘but he does not wish it +in his heart. Monsieur le Gautier, if you are a gentleman, you will +cease this discussion. The subject is painful to me.’ She stood there, +looking at him coldly and scornfully. + +But her very iciness only served to increase the warmth of his passion. +‘I cannot!’ he exclaimed. ‘I will not cease! For five years, ever since +I first met you at Rome, I have never ceased to love you. Bid me do +anything in reason; ask me any favour; but to forget you is impossible!’ + +‘I am sorry for you,’ Enid said gently, touched a little by the ring of +genuine passion in his voice—‘I am sorry; but it cannot be. I do not +break my pledges so lightly, even if I wished to do so.’ + +‘Which you do not,’ Le Gautier bitterly remarked. ‘I do not care. +I am desperate now. You despise and scorn me; but I will not be +rejected thus. If you will not be my wife for my sake, you must for +your father’s and the honour of your house.’ He stopped abruptly, for +standing in the room was Sir Geoffrey, his face pale, and his whole +aspect downcast and degraded to a pitiable degree. + +Enid turned to her father eagerly. ‘Did you hear these words?’ she +asked. ‘Can it be possible that you—that I—that the honour of our house +is in any man’s hands? Can it be your wish, father, that I—I—should +form an alliance with Monsieur le Gautier? Speak, and show him how +mistaken he can be!’ + +But Sir Geoffrey never spoke. His head sank lower upon his breast. +For the first time, he realised the sacrifice he had imposed upon his +daughter, and so he stood there, an English gentleman no longer, but a +poor enfeebled, shamefaced old man. + +A wild feeling of alarm took possession of Enid as she saw this thing. +‘Why do you not speak?’ she demanded. ‘What cause have you to hesitate +in indorsing my words?’ + +Still the baronet never spoke, never raised his head. + +Enid ran swiftly to his side and threw one arm round his shoulder. +She could feel the spasm that struck him as he encountered her touch. +‘Father,’ she asked in a dull even voice, ‘does your silence mean that +he is right?’ + +‘Yes, my dear child; he is right. There is no alternative.’ + +There is a providence which helps us in such times as these, a numbness +of the senses that for a time deadens pain. Enid’s voice was very +calm as she turned to Le Gautier, standing there trying to disguise +his triumph. ‘I do not know what all this means,’ she said. ‘I do not +understand whence you derive your power. I cannot think now. For his +sake,’ she continued, pointing to her father, ‘I consent.’ + +Le Gautier sprang forward; but she repelled him with a glance. + +‘Listen to my conditions,’ she continued. ‘I have said I consent; but +I warn you that if there is any loophole for escape from you, I shall +take it. You are going away, you say. Nothing must be done till your +return, and then the contract shall be fulfilled. Now, go.’ + +When Lucrece entered the room a few moments later, she found her +mistress lying unconscious upon the floor. Looking out of the window, +she saw the slim figure of Le Gautier disappearing in the distance, and +smiled. He was smiling, too, as he walked away. Nothing remained now +but only the final interview with Marie, and to regain possession of +the lost moidore. A few weeks at Warsaw, and then—— + + +CHAPTER XV. + +Maxwell had been gone a week now, and no tidings of him had reached +England, save one letter to say he was in Rome. As Le Gautier turned +away from Grosvenor Square, his heart one glow of triumph, he +determined that, come what may, the artist should never see England +again. When he returned from Warsaw, he calculated that, through Marie +St Jean’s assistance, all information concerning the League would be +in the hands of the police, freeing him from any further bondage, and +throwing all the odium and danger on her. Full of these schemes, he +arrived at his lodgings. A telegram was lying on the table. He took it +up mechanically, and tore it open. The contents were terse: ‘Visci died +this morning from heart disease.’ Le Gautier was wild with rage. Here +was a pretty combination, he thought. Nothing now to detain Maxwell +in Rome. The victim had fallen by a higher Hand than that of man, and +Maxwell was free. + +As a Head Centre of the Order, Le Gautier wielded much power, and even +now he did not despair, with the command of nearly all the desperadoes +in Rome at his command. He had only to get Maxwell arrested in Rome +on some false charge and carried to the mountains; and there—after a +little delay and a packed meeting of the League—shot. Desperate men +such as Le Gautier, especially with such a prize in their grasp, do +not long hesitate over such a trifling matter as a human life, and he +trusted to his own good luck and native audacity to pull him through. + +It was getting dark the same night as he despatched a telegram to Rome, +and then turned in the direction of Fitzroy Square. He was as eager now +to see Isodore as he had been to encounter Enid in the afternoon, and +looked forward not only to a pleasant evening but a remunerative one. + +She did not keep him long waiting in the drawing-room ere she sailed in +all smiles and welcome. She was looking radiantly beautiful to-night; +there was a deeper flush on her face, and a glitter in her glorious +eyes not usually seen there—signs of a loving welcome, Le Gautier +imagined in his egotistical way. There was, besides, a warmth in her +manner and a gladness in the pressure of her hand which inspired him, +and sent an electric thrill coursing through his veins. + +‘You are looking more transcendently lovely than usual, Marie!’ he +exclaimed with a fervour unusual even to him. ‘Every time I see you, +there is some additional charm in you to note.’ + +‘It depends upon whether the observing eye is a prejudiced one,’ she +replied with a caressing smile, which brought him at once to her side. +‘You say that now, Hector. How long will you continue to think so?’ + +‘As long as I have power to think at all—as long as memory serves me. I +shall remember you to the last day of my life.’ + +‘I believe you will,’ Isodore smiled bewilderingly. ‘And yet, strange +as it may seem, the time will perhaps come when you will wish you had +never seen my face.’ + +‘You are more than usually enigmatical to-night, Marie. You are a +puzzle to me. I do not even know who you are. Tell me something about +yourself, and why you are living in this solitude here.’ + +‘No; not to-night; but, as I have often promised you, I will tell you +some time. I will tell you who I am before you go away; and then, when +your curiosity is satisfied, you will leave me.’ + +‘Never!’ Le Gautier exclaimed passionately. ‘Leave you!—the only woman +I ever saw that I could really love. Leave you, Marie! How can you +entertain the bare idea!’ + +He would have approached her nearer, but she waved him gently but +firmly aside. The distance she kept him fanned his passion all the +more. ‘Tell me something about yourself,’ she said. ‘That is a topic +which never fails to interest me. How about the League, this Maxwell’s +journey? Has he accomplished his mission yet?’ + +‘He is not likely to, now. Visci is dead!—Gracious powers, Marie! what +ails you? Are you ill?’ + +Isodore uttered a sharp exclamation, and then reeled forward in her +chair. Her face was white and drawn, her lips trembled. Gradually her +bosom ceased to heave so painfully, and she turned to Le Gautier with +a white wan smile, though he could see the fan still trembling in her +hands. ‘It is nothing,’ she said with an effort. ‘I am subject to these +attacks of the heart, and any news of sudden death always affects me +so.—Do not look distressed; it is past now.’ + +‘There is nothing in the name to cause you any distress?’ Le Gautier +asked suspiciously. + +‘I have heard the name before, if that is what you mean. Tell me all +you know of this Carlo Visci.’ + +‘I did not say his name was Carlo,’ Le Gautier observed, somewhat +sharply. ‘I can tell you nothing more. When I reached home this +afternoon, I had a telegram to say he was dead.’ + +‘And this Maxwell, what of him? I suppose he will return home now?’ + +‘He has been somewhat dilatory in obeying orders. No; he will not +return. He will be detained at Rome for the present.’ + +‘Tell me why you hate this Englishman so.’ + +Le Gautier started. ‘How do you know I hate him?’ he asked. ‘I have +never said so.’ + +‘Not in so many words; but in gesture and look, when you speak of him, +your actions are eloquent, my friend. He has crossed your path. Ah, +well, I like a good hater. Maxwell will suffer yet.’ + +‘Yes,’ Le Gautier exclaimed involuntarily, ‘he will.’ + +Isodore rose and walked to the piano, where she sat for a moment +striking the chords idly. ‘When do you go to Warsaw?’ she asked. + +‘I have six days remaining to me.—Marie, the time has come when we must +no longer delay. The pear is ripe now; all my plans are matured. I have +only to hold up my hand and the League will vanish.’ + +All this time, Isodore played on softly, musingly, the music serving +like the accompaniment of a song to force the speaker’s voice. As he +stood there, and she answered him, she never ceased to play the soft +chords. + +‘Then you have everything prepared?’ + +‘Yes, everything is ready.’ He drew a low seat to her side, and seated +himself there. ‘All the names are made out, the whole plot prepared.’ + +‘And you propose to hand them over to me. It is a great compliment; and +I suppose I must take them. I would run greater risks than this for +your sake and—my own.’ + +She took one hand from the ivory keys and held it out to him. Drawing a +packet from his pocket, he gave it to her. She thrust it in her bosom, +and ran her fingers over the keys again. + +‘All is there, I suppose,’ she asked, ‘down to the minutest detail, +everything necessary to betray the League and pull it up root and +branch? You have taken good care to shield yourself, I presume?’ + +‘Of course.—And now, to talk of more pleasant things. You know I am +going away in a few days; and when I return, I shall expect to find +myself perfectly free.’ + +‘You may depend upon me. I will do all I can for you.’ + +Le Gautier looked up sharply—the words were coldly, sternly uttered, +but the quiet placid smile never left her face. + +‘How strangely you speak! But oh, Marie—my Marie, the only woman I ever +loved, you will stand by me now, and help me, for both our sakes! Look +at me, and say you will do what I ask!’ + +Isodore looked down, smiling brightly. ‘Yes, I will do what you ask,’ +she said. ‘And so you really love me?’ + +‘Passionately and sincerely, such as I never expected to love woman +yet.’ + +‘I am glad to hear you say that,’ Isodore replied with a thrill of +exultation in her voice. ‘I have waited and hoped for the time to come; +but never in my wildest dreams did I look for this.’ + +‘With your nobleness and beauty, how could it be otherwise? I should be +more than a man—or less—if I looked upon you unmoved.’ + +‘Then, for the first time for years, I am happy.’ + +Le Gautier started to his feet rapturously. He did not understand her +yet; he thought the soft earnest words all for him. He would have +caught her there and then in his eager arms, but again she repulsed +him. ‘No, no!’ she cried; ‘I have not proved you yet. Let things remain +as they are till you return again to England.’ + +How strange, Le Gautier thought vaguely, that she should use words +so similar to those of Enid to a precisely similar plea. Despite his +passion, he had not thrown all prudence to the winds. + +‘You had better leave me now,’ Isodore continued—‘leave me to think and +dwell over this thing.’ + +‘But what about my badge of membership? I dare not leave England +without that.’ + +‘I had almost forgotten it in this interesting conversation. It is not +in my possession; it is in Paris. You have a meeting of the League +before you go for final instructions. Come to me after that, and you +shall have it. I am going to Paris to-morrow, and will bring it with +me.’ + +‘You are a witch!’ Le Gautier exclaimed with admiration. ‘You seem to +know as much as the mysterious Isodore, that princess who never shows +herself unless danger besets the League. If she is the wonder men who +have seen her say she is, they stand in dire need of her now.’ + +‘Beware how you talk so lightly of her—she has the gift of fernseed. At +this very moment she may know of your perfidy.’ + +‘Perfidy is a hard word, my queen, and sounds not prettily.—And now, +good-night. And you will not fail me?’ + +‘I will _not_ fail you,’ Isodore replied with the stern inflection Le +Gautier had noticed before, and marvelled over. ‘I never fail.’ + +‘A woman, and never fail!’ + +‘Not in my promises. If I make a vow or pledge my word, I can wait five +years or ten to fulfil it.—Good-night. And when we meet again, you will +not say I have belied my contract.’ + +When Valerie entered some minutes later, she found Isodore with +firm-set face and gleaming eyes. ‘My brother is dead,’ she said +quietly. ‘Poor Carlo! And he loved me so at one time. Now, he can never +know.’ + +‘Dead!’ Valerie exclaimed. ‘You do not mean to say’—— + +‘That Maxwell killed him?—No. His heart has been failing for years, +long before I left Rome; his life was not worth an hour’s purchase. But +I have no time to mourn over him now.—Let me see if I can do a little +good with my useless occupation. I start for Rome to-morrow.’ + +Valerie looked at her friend in stupid astonishment. + +‘I cannot explain to you now. Maxwell is free to return home. As you +know, it means destruction to Le Gautier’s plans, if he does. I dared +not press him too closely to-night; but Maxwell will be detained in +Rome, in all probability by Paulo Lucci, till some charge can be +trumped up for his destruction. But Lucci and his band dare not cross +me; my power is too great for that. To-morrow, I leave for Rome, and +pray heaven that I may not be too late!’ + + + + +AMERICAN TRAITS. + + +It is usual in this country to regard the Americans as a homogeneous +people, and to accept the Yankee as a fair type of the whole nation. +But this is a fallacy. The inhabitants of the South, and more +especially the descendants of the early French and Spanish colonists +to be found in the Gulf States, differ radically in their morals, +manners, and customs from the population of other sections of the +Union. It is not, however, our purpose in this paper to enter into an +extended disquisition upon the characteristics of the people of the +United States, our object being simply to touch briefly upon a few +of their more prominent traits. The Puritan element in the character +of the first settlers of New England has exercised an influence upon +social life there which has not been confined to that limited area, +but has made itself felt, in a more or less marked degree, throughout +the whole of the Northern States. The differences of race and climate +have, however, not only been obstacles to the inhabitants of the South +accepting the Puritan standard of morals, but have also prevented +the development of those traits of character to be found in the +population of other parts of the country, and which are more peculiarly +distinctive of the Americans as a people. We shall therefore limit +ourselves to dealing with those national characteristics which have +come under our observation in the Northern States. + +That submission to the will of the majority which is inculcated by +democratic institutions has exercised a marked influence upon the +social no less than upon the political life of the people of the United +States, save in the late Slave States. It has not only had the result +of preventing the development of individuality of character, but +likewise has considerably modified that obstinacy of temper and dogged +tenacity of opinion which are to be found in the Anglo-Saxon race. The +late Lord Beaconsfield on one occasion said in the House of Commons +that a gentleman who had spent several years in America had declared to +him that it was his belief that ‘the citizens of the republic were the +most tractable people in the world, and the readiest open to conviction +by argument.’ + +In the United States, the absence of that segregation of the various +grades of society which exist in Europe is evinced by the habits and +manners of the masses in that country. If the national independence of +character be occasionally pushed too far, and degenerate into offensive +self-assertion, at least it prevents any approach to servility. No +inequality of position or circumstances will induce a native of any +of the Northern States to submit to being dealt with in the manner +or spoken to in the tone which, in England, the man in broadcloth +too frequently adopts, as a matter of course, towards the man in +fustian. The late Sydney Godolphin Osborne used to relate how, once, a +respectable artisan said to him: ‘I like you, my lord; there is nothing +of the gentleman about you.’ The meaning of the speaker was undoubtedly +that Lord Osborne did not treat him in the patronising manner that +members of the higher class usually address those whom they regard as +their social inferiors. Now, no one perhaps has a keener appreciation +of the advantages of wealth and education than the American; but that +the possessor of them should feel himself justified in using towards +the man who lacks these adventitious gifts the language of a superior +to an inferior, is what he cannot understand, and which he will not +for one moment put up with. An anecdote Thackeray used to relate of an +experience of his when in the United States well illustrates this trait +of the people. While in New York, he expressed to a friend a desire +to see some of the ‘Bowery Bhoys,’ who, he had heard, were a class of +the community peculiar to that city. So one evening he was taken to +the Bowery, and he was shown a ‘Bhoy.’ The young man, the business +of the day being over, had changed his attire. He wore a dress-coat, +black trousers, and a satin waistcoat; whilst a tall hat rested on the +back of his head, which was adorned with long well-greased hair—known +as ‘soap-locks’—a style which the rowdies of that day affected. The +youth was leaning against a lamp-post, smoking an enormous cigar; and +his whole aspect was one of ineffable self-satisfaction. The eminent +novelist, after contemplating him for a few moments with silent +admiration, said to the gentleman by whom he was accompanied: ‘This is +a great and gorgeous creature!’ adding: ‘Can I speak to him without his +taking offence?’ + +Receiving an answer in the affirmative, Thackeray went up to the +fellow, on the pretext of asking his way, and said: ‘My good man, I +want to go to Broome Street.’ + +But the unlucky phrase, ‘My good man,’ roused the gall of the +individual spoken to. Instead, therefore, of affording the information +sought, the ‘Bhoy’—a diminutive specimen of humanity, scarcely over +five feet in height—eyeing the tall form of his interlocutor askance, +answered the query in the sense that his permission had been asked +for the speaker to visit the locality in question, and he said, +patronisingly: ‘Well, sonny, yer kin go thar.’ + +When Thackeray subsequently related the incident, he laughingly +declared that he was so disconcerted by the unexpected response, that +he had not the courage to continue the dialogue. + +The question, however, differently put would, in all probability, +have elicited a civil answer from ninety-nine out of a hundred of +the members of the class to which the man belonged. In fact, the +discourtesy, and even rudeness, of which some travellers in the +United States complain have arisen from the fact of their failing to +appreciate the difference existing between the social systems of that +country and their own. + +The wide gulf in culture which in England separates the upper and +middle classes from the lower orders, does not exist in America. This +has arisen from various causes. In the first place, the great bulk of +the people of the Union are much better educated than is as yet the +case in this country. The admirable system of common or, as they are +termed, ‘public’ schools which prevails in America affords facilities +for all children obtaining a sound English education without the +payment by their parents of any school fees, and at a trifling cost to +the taxpayer in all sections of the Union, and especially in the West, +where large grants have been made of the State lands in support of the +public schools. In the second place, the social status of the working +classes who are _natives_ of the United States has been raised by the +fact that the Americans are almost exclusively engaged in avocations +demanding intelligence and skilled labour. This has been owing to the +circumstance that upon the coloured population and the Irish and German +immigrants have devolved those coarse and irksome occupations which +have to be followed by a portion of the inhabitants of other countries. +To give one instance of this alone, it may be stated that rarely is a +native American citizen, man or woman, found occupying the position of +a domestic servant in any of the Atlantic cities. + +The wages, too, commanded by artisans and mechanics averaging nearly +double those of the same class in other countries, it follows, +necessarily, that vice and crime—the inevitable concomitants of a state +of society in which the condition of the mass of the lower classes is +but one step removed from absolute indigence, as is the case in most +European countries—are not nearly so prevalent in America. In the New +England States, where the foreign population is small, there is not a +country in Europe—possibly with the exception of Holland—where there is +so little crime. Few persons, indeed, are aware how much the foreign +element in the community, in many of the States, contributes to the +statistics of the offences which come under the cognisance of the +criminal tribunals. In the State of New York alone, seventy per cent. +of the infractions of the law are committed by the Irish, whilst the +fair ratio of this class in proportion to the whole population would be +a little less than twenty per cent. + +One of the most marked characteristics of the Americans is their rooted +determination to resist any legislation which shall recognise any class +distinctions in the community. Of course, no one contends that the man +of wealth, education, and culture is not the superior, in one sense of +the word, of him who lacks these. The equality insisted upon is simply +this: that no class of society shall make the circumstance of enjoying +these adventitious advantages a ground for the members of it basing a +claim to be a separate caste, possessing rights and privileges—fenced +in by law—denied to the bulk of their countrymen. This sentiment found +expression in the opposition which the proposal met with, a few years +ago, that persons in the Civil Service of the Federal government should +be irremovable, save for misconduct, instead of being turned out of +their places after every change of administration, as had previously +been the case. It was argued that fixity of tenure of office would +have the result of creating a bureaucracy, the members of which would +come in time to regard themselves as a privileged class. That these +apprehensions were unfounded, experience of the practical working of +the new system of government patronage has proved. But the very fact +of the objection having been raised at all shows how sensitive public +opinion was on the subject. + +One noticeable feature of American society is that in none of the +Northern States does an officer in the army or navy enjoy the social +status that he commands in all European countries. Holmes, in _The +Autocrat of the Breakfast Table_, has commented upon this trait of his +countrymen. He says: ‘It is curious to observe of how small account +military folk are held among our Northern people. Our young men must +gild their spurs, but they need not win them. The equal division of +property keeps the younger sons of rich people above the necessity of +military service. Thus, the army loses one element of refinement, and +the moneyed upper classes forget what it is to count heroism amongst +their virtues. Still, I don’t believe in any aristocracy without pluck +as its backbone. Ours may show it when the day comes, if ever it does +come.’ + +The opportunity for young men of the wealthier class proving their +manhood came sooner than Holmes anticipated when he penned the above +remarks; for less than three years later, the civil war broke out, +and then this class were not slack in responding to the call of their +country for their services. Numerous instances occurred of young +men reared in luxury—unable to obtain commissions owing to their +want of military training—shouldering muskets in the ranks of the +Federal armies; and their patriotism received due recognition from +their fellow-citizens. But in time of peace it is the members of the +community who are engaged in those pursuits best remunerated who are +held in the highest estimation—a necessary result of a condition of +society in which wealth is the standard by which social position is +measured and defined. The girl who in the French song exclaims, ‘Oh! +que j’aime les militaires!’ utters a sentiment which as a rule finds no +echo in the hearts of the American fair. An odd illustration of this +fact came under the observation of the writer when he was resident in +New York. A lady—whose brother had been educated at the government +Military Academy at West Point—gave, in all seriousness, the reason +why this gentleman, after graduating, had not accepted a commission in +the army, in these words: ‘He had a higher ambition than to be a mere +soldier, so he has become a dry-goods merchant.’ + +In New York, and indeed in all the larger Atlantic cities, a class has +sprung up of late years which affects to look down upon the political +and social institutions of their country. Mr Howells, in his novel _A +Woman’s Reason_, speaking of one of the Upper Ten, says: ‘He saw what +a humbug democracy and equality really were. He must have seen that +nobody practically believes in them.’ This sentiment may accurately +reflect the opinions of a limited class, but it is an absolute fallacy +to assert that such views are generally entertained. On the contrary, +they have not to any appreciable extent permeated the people at large, +and there is not the slightest likelihood of their affecting the +national life or changing its standards. + +In closing these desultory observations upon some of the characteristic +traits of the Americans, the writer may state that they are based upon +personal observation during a residence of several years in the United +States. + + + + +COUSIN GEORGE. + + +IN TWO CHAPTERS.—CHAP. I. + +Mr Nicholas Smethby lived, in pretty easy circumstances, at a town some +thirty or forty miles distant from London, from which metropolis he had +retired on leaving off business. His profession had been, nominally, +that of an accountant; but he had seldom troubled himself greatly +about accounts, and had not received many commissions to investigate +them. He had really been a speculator in stocks and shares, in a small +but profitable way; and while he lent but little of his own money +in loans, had made a great deal of profit as agent, or ‘middleman,’ +between those who wished to borrow and those who were able to lend. So +Mr Smethby had lived in a circle in which it was necessary for him +to have his wits about him, and in which a somewhat decided hankering +for gain was likely to be developed; yet in this he was perhaps no +worse than most of his neighbours; while, ’cute as he was, he was not +a bad sort of fellow, take him altogether. He was pleasant and social +enough in his family circle, a pretty large one, but reduced, as far as +his own household was concerned, to one daughter, Harriet, the other +members having married. Two of these had settled in the neighbourhood +of Valeborough, the town referred to; while Mr Smethby had long been +a widower. He had no other relations, that he knew of, and, as he was +wont to say when speaking on the subject, he did not want to hear of +any. His cousin, George Styles, was the last he had had much to do +with, and, ah!—Mr Smethby would exclaim at such times as the subject +was brought up—he did not care about any more like him. + +‘Twenty years ago, sir,’ he would explain, ‘he called on me with a +cock-and-bull story of his being in trouble and wanting to get to +Australia; and I was fool enough to lend him twenty pounds. Yes, sir, +lent twenty pounds to a man I did not care two straws for, and had seen +barely a dozen times in my life. What was the consequence? Why, I never +heard any more of him or my twenty pounds either, and don’t know to +this day whether he went to Australia or not. I should decidedly say +_not_. That is all I know about my relations.’ + +It must be owned that it was at the best a selfish kind of +cheerfulness, which was derived from the belief that he had no kith or +kin out of his own household; but Smethby was rather a selfish man. He +certainly was too fond of talking in this strain. + +It happened that, towards the close of a bright June day, Mr Smethby +was at a railway station some two or three miles from his residence. +To aid in identifying the town, we may say that there was another line +which ran through or at least close to it; but from the station in +question, an omnibus plied to Valeborough, and it was for this vehicle +that Mr Smethby waited on the little platform. + +‘We shall have a wet night, I expect,’ said a voice in his ear. + +He looked round, and saw a sailor-like man, whom he had already +noticed, and who was scanning the horizon in a sailor-like manner. +Mr Smethby made a fitting reply to this remark, and a desultory +conversation ensued. The expected omnibus now coming into sight as it +crossed a rise in the road at some distance, Smethby instinctively +shifted his valise a little nearer to the gate. The man good-naturedly +helped him, as he was close to the bag, and exclaimed, as he saw the +label upon it: ‘Smethby! It is odd that I should see that name to-day, +for it is not a common one.’ + +‘I do not think it is often met with,’ said Mr Smethby. ‘But what is +there odd in your seeing it to-day?’ + +‘Well, perhaps not much,’ replied the man, with a smile; ‘but I was +talking about that name a good deal yesterday, and for weeks before.’ + +‘Indeed! May I ask how that was?’ said his listener. + +‘I have just come from Australia,’ returned the sailor. (Mr Smethby +could not help growing suddenly attentive at this.) ‘I landed yesterday +at Gravesend, and bade good-bye to an old chum. Ah! he was a good chum +too! Five years had I worked in the next claim to old George, as we +called him. His right name was George Styles.’ + +‘George Styles!’ exclaimed Mr Smethby.—‘But I must apologise for +interrupting you.’ + +‘He had done well—better than any of us,’ continued the sailor. ‘Some +folks said he was worth a quarter of a million of money; but I never +believed that; about half the figure would be nigher. He said he had +no friends in England he cared for now, except one Mr Smethby. That +is why the name startled me. He was always talking about him. It was +on purpose to see him he went on to London with the ship; he lives +somewhere in the City.’ + +‘O—h!’ said Mr Smethby. This was a long-sustained syllable, the +gentleman having a curiously complicated rush of thought just then. + +‘Yes, he lives in London; and I think old George means playing a rare +trick on him,’ said the sailor, whose smile broke into a laugh here. +‘He used to say what a game it would be to go and pretend he was poor +and broken down, so as to see who were his real friends and who were +not. It is my belief he will do it too; and when I go back to London, +I’ll try to find him out, to hear all about it. Ha, ha, ha!’ + +The omnibus drew up at this moment; and the sailor, knowing their +conference must end, touched his cap and drew back. + +‘A—was this George Styles really so rich? I ask, because your story has +interested me,’ said Mr Smethby hurriedly. ‘He must be a droll fellow!’ + +‘Rich! Why, I’ve seen with my own eyes the banker’s receipts for the +best part of a ton of gold of his, first and last,’ returned the +sailor; ‘and that was only a part of his luck. His last words to me +were: “Bill”—my name is Bill Brown—“Bill, as long as I live, you shall +never want a friend.” Nor I shan’t, I know.—Good-day, sir.’ + +Mr Smethby entered the vehicle, and had a silent, thoughtful ride to +Valeborough. The sailor’s conversation, helter-skelter and rattle-brain +as it was, had furnished him with much food for thought; and finding +that his son was at his house, when he arrived there—this son was +married and settled at Valeborough—he immediately took him, with Miss +Harriet, into council. During his narrative, repeated exclamations of +astonishment broke from his hearers. + +‘Why, father,’ cried his daughter as he finished, ‘this must be your +cousin George; and you are the Mr Smethby he is looking for.’ + +‘Of course I am; I saw that at once,’ replied her father. + +‘But what is to be done?’ asked Mr Joe, the son. ‘You have left London +for years; he may be looking about for you till doomsday, and be no +nearer finding you.’ + +‘I suppose he will go to my old address. The people there know where I +am, and will send him down,’ said Mr Smethby. ‘I expect that is how it +will be.’ + +‘I hope so, I am sure,’ continued his son; ‘otherwise, we may lose a +splendid chance.’ + +Smethby could not help admitting the possibility of this, which seemed +to disturb him a good deal, yet nothing could be done to avert it. + +‘We must be careful to show him every kindness,’ said Harriet. ‘After +having been away from England so long, he will feel pleased at’—— + +‘Leave me alone,’ interposed Smethby, with a nod and a wink, which +meant much. ‘I flatter myself I can see my way here pretty clearly. I +only hope he comes, that is all.’ + +Mr Smethby would have written to his successors in London, asking them +to give his address to any inquirer; but he abstained, partly because +he felt sure they would do this in any case, but chiefly from the +danger that his request might be mentioned to his cousin, and so show +that he, Mr Smethby, had a knowledge of his arrival in England. + +No days in the lives of Mr Smethby and his family had ever appeared +so long as each of the next two or three which followed their little +family interview. The suspense was—as the elder gentleman pronounced it +to be—‘excruciating;’ but it came to an end in time. + +Mr Smethby was in his front-garden in the afternoon, trying to occupy +himself; but his mind was busy on a subject very different from botany, +when, happening to look up from his flower-beds, he met the eyes of +a man who was watching him over the fence, as this man stood on the +footpath. He smiled when he met the glance of Smethby, who actually +recoiled in his astonishment; for although he had been thinking without +cessation of his cousin, yet it was like an electric shock in its +suddenness to look round and find the very man face to face with him; +for this was, must be, he felt, George Styles. He did not know him, +had no recollection of his features; but the bronzed, bushy-whiskered, +bushy-bearded man, dressed something like a sailor, yet not to be +mistaken for one, who smiled at him across the garden fence, was his +cousin, there could be no doubt of that. + +‘Well, Nick, old fellow!’ began the stranger; ‘I see you know me, +although it is many years since we parted.’ + +‘Why, it is George Styles!’ exclaimed Mr Smethby, with an assumption +of surprise and ‘gush’ which did him infinite credit, and of which he +felt secretly proud for a good while. He seized the other’s hand and +wrung it over the fence with a prolonged heartiness, as though he could +not bear to relinquish it. ‘My dear old boy, how glad I am to see you!’ +he resumed, as soon, it appeared, as his feelings would allow him to +speak. ‘Come in. How did you find me out? But never mind that now. Come +in! I shall have a thousand things to talk about.—This is Harriet; the +only unmarried one now; she was in arms when you went away, so I don’t +expect you to remember her.—Now, Harriet, let us have a cup of tea; and +put the best we have in the house on the table to-day, if we never do +so again.’ + +‘You are almost too kind, Nick,’ said the other, and there was really +a little catch in his voice as he spoke. ‘I did not expect—indeed, I +don’t deserve such generosity. I think I had first better run down to +the _Railway Tap_ and bespeak my room there, for I hope to stay three +or four days at Valeborough.’ + +‘Three or four days!’ exclaimed Mr Smethby; ‘bespeak a room at the +_Railway Tap_! I don’t mean to part with you, now I have found you +again, under three or four months; and if you do not make this your +home for everything, I—I—I’ll never forgive you.’ + +Miss Harriet, in an equally gratifying strain, indorsed these +sentiments, at which Styles was evidently affected. + +‘I did not expect—could not have hoped for this,’ he returned; ‘and +seeing that I have returned a—a poor man’—the awkward stop he made, ere +he could get this out, amused Smethby—‘it is so kind of you. If it will +not cause any inconvenience, I will stay here a little while, and I +will do anything I can to repay your generosity’—— + +Here he was interrupted by the good-tempered laughter which such an +idea excited, and the evening passed off merrily. + +Mr Joe and his wife looked in—by chance, as they explained; as did Mr +Brooks and his wife—formerly Miss Susy Smethby—who came also by chance; +the result being that there was quite a jovial party, and that Mr +Styles received the warmest invitations to become a frequent visitor at +the house of Mr Joe and at that of Mr Brooks. + +After this night, too, there was unwonted pleasantry at Mr Smethby’s, +for not only his family but some of the neighbours were constantly +dropping in, and it was wonderful what an interest they all took in +the gentleman from Australia. The latter was very guarded—kept up his +character well, did him great credit, Mr Joe said. But no one can avoid +an occasional flaw, and one or two were detected even in him. He was +wont to deplore the hardships which unsuccessful men suffered in a +colony—in fact, he did not like to enter on any detail of his painful +experiences—never would do so. + +‘Your hardships do not seem greatly to have injured you, George,’ his +host would answer; ‘you look a good ten years younger than your age; +and many a man who has never been fifty miles from London shows the +wear and tear of toil and worry, of which you complain so much, more +than you do.’ + +‘Ah! but it is the future!’ Mr Styles would say, when such a debate +arose—he would say it with a sad shake of the head—‘it is the future +which preys on my mind, what I am to do for the rest of my life.’ + +It was difficult for Mr Smethby, knowing so much as he did, to listen +gravely to such arguments as these; but he was grave, and his manner +encouraged Styles to confide in him—after a fashion. + +He soon showed an interest in speaking of certain Australian +investments which it appeared some friend of his thought highly of; a +shallow ruse, not likely to deceive such a man as his cousin. Styles +further mentioned that a gold-miner whom he knew had put ten thousand +pounds into one of these specs less than two years before, and he could +now sell out for thirty thousand any day he chose; but he was too good +a judge to do that, as in another two years the present value would be +doubled, and then, perhaps, he might be tempted to realise. This same +miner, as he had heard, held five or six other investments, nearly all +as good, and was in expectation of hearing news which would enable him +to employ the other half of his capital, which was now lying idle—only +making a paltry three per cent.—quite as well. All this Mr Styles had +heard from his friend. + +All this amused Smethby, who read his visitor the more thoroughly in +proportion as the latter sought to envelop himself in these far-fetched +disguises. No additional proof was needed to satisfy Smethby; but the +evidence was in a manner forced upon him to expose most completely the +absurd trick which his cousin was attempting to play off upon him. + +Harriet found a letter on the floor of their visitor’s room: it would +have been expecting too much from the feminine, or perhaps from any +temperament, to suppose she would not read it. Its contents were so +interesting, although exceedingly brief, that she showed the note to +her father. It was from a firm in London, a stockbroker’s evidently, +referring to some inquiry from ‘George Styles, Esq.’ as to the purchase +of shares to the amount of twenty thousand pounds, in the Bodgamaree +mines—the very speculation that Smethby had heard his cousin refer to +in their last conversation as being in great favour with the unnamed +gold-miner! The shares were low at present, the letter said, and could +be bought at about eighty per cent., so that a little over sixteen +thousand pounds would be sufficient. + +‘That settles it, then,’ said Smethby. ‘Be sure to put the letter back +where you found it, Harriet; and mind what I told you the other day. +Play your cards properly, and I am sure you will win.’ + +This utterance was rather obscure; but his daughter understood it well +enough to induce her to pout and frown a little, and to move with what +is generally described as a ‘flounce.’ + +‘Ah! it is all very well,’ said the gentleman; ‘but you ought to know +better than to dream of allowing a quarter of a million of money to go +out of the family.—Who is Robert Crewe, I should like to know?’ + +This speech would have been, to a third party, equally obscure with +that which had gone before; but as we do not wish to have any mystery, +we may explain that, almost from the first, Cousin George had appeared +much impressed by Harriet’s good looks, and had shown her attentions +which gradually became more marked. He was five-and-twenty years older +than the girl, it was true; but as he had himself said to Smethby, a +man ought to be a good deal older than a woman, when they marry; and +when a man had been abroad, knocking about the world best part of his +time, he then knew what a home was, and felt the want of a young and +cheerful wife. + +All this Smethby had pointed out to his daughter before; but was +shocked to find—for he really considered her a sensible, clear-headed +girl, as a rule—that a ridiculous friendship with one Robert Crewe, a +doctor’s assistant in the town, blocked the way of this new road to +wealth and position. + +Robert Crewe! Smethby had not ordinary patience with the idea. He +admitted that he had known of, and in some sort of way approved, or, +rather, had not forbidden this intimacy—it was in this roundabout +manner he now described his conduct—and the young fellow, in his +place, might be well enough; but to compare him and his miserable +gallipot and sticking-plaster prospects, with George Styles, was enough +to put any man out of temper. Robert Crewe, forsooth! + +Yet, with all this natural indignation and in spite of this sarcasm, +Miss Harriet could not quite make up her mind to renounce the young +doctor; but it might come in time. + +That very night—after the discovery of the letter, we mean—Mr Styles +on his return broached two subjects which were strongly suggestive, +especially when his hearers were behind the scenes to a degree he did +not suspect. These hearers were only Mr Smethby and his daughter. It +was a quiet night, such as delighted Mr Styles; he really appeared to +enjoy himself pretty well under all conditions; but he declared this +evening that a snug little family chat was sweeter than anything else, +to an old wanderer like himself. Port, sherry, and claret were at +hand; for while Smethby was, as a rule, strictly economical, so that +wine rarely appeared at his table, his hospitality to his cousin led +him into a freer display of such luxuries now, than of old. But the +taste of Mr Styles was simple—old-fashioned, he said; and he drank +scarcely anything but cold brandy-and-water, to which he was remarkably +partial. It was over a glass of this innocent beverage—always mixed +half and half, at which, even in his bloom of hospitality, Mr Smethby +winced—that he spoke of the subjects indicated. He referred to a friend +of his—it was odd how satisfied he seemed with this shallow artifice, +and how often he resorted to it—who was about to buy a small property +near London. This property was at Richmond—only a mere toy, a little +villa, with coachhouse and stables; a pretty conservatory, with a +couple of acres of land—that was all. It was freehold—his friend would +have nothing else—and it commanded the prettiest view on the river. + +Now, what was Miss Harriet’s opinion? Did she prefer living in the +country outright, or near London? What did she think of his friend’s +choice? Harriet hesitated, and her colour went and came; but Smethby +spoke up for her, and said that, like every other young girl, she would +prefer living near the great metropolis, with its theatres, its balls, +its parks and the like.—O yes! of course. Harriet but feebly echoed +this opinion, which was repeated and enlarged on by Smethby. + +Later in the evening, when the elders were alone, Styles brought up his +friend again; it was, as before, in reference to an investment, and Mr +George said how he wished his cousin had a little money to spare, as he +knew—his friend knew, that was—of a chance for doubling and trebling +every penny invested. + +Smethby, with his usual good-tempered laugh—he was always +good-tempered, when with Styles—said that for all George knew he +might have a trifle by him. On hearing this, his cousin expressed his +pleasure, and said that his friend was going to invest nearly twenty +thousand pounds in the spec. Such figures were beyond Smethby, as that +gentleman owned; but one, or even two thousand, he might command. In +short, ere they parted that night, he had resolved to remove his cash +from his deposit account at the town bank and join this friend in his +speculation. + +Styles was pleased to hear this; and when Smethby said he should like +to see his friend, laughed, and confusedly said he would tell his +cousin more about him soon. + + + + +ECONOMY OF FUEL. + + +Mr Hull, a celebrated geologist, has calculated that there is still +a quantity of coal in store in England and Wales sufficient to +afford a supply of one hundred and twenty millions of tons for about +five hundred years. This would be a cheerful estimate, if we could +cordially and unquestioningly accept it. But, unfortunately, we cannot, +other competent observers having affirmed that the coal deposits of +this country will be exhausted in less than two hundred years. We +would, therefore, urge with all earnestness, that the people and the +government should pay more especial attention to this vital subject +than they have hitherto done. + +Of course, there are two chief points on which any interference could +be effectual: these are, the exportation of coal, and the wasteful +processes of mining now in vogue. The former of these involves the +great question of free-trade, and the right of each coal-proprietor to +sell the produce of his land and labour at the best possible price. The +latter is even a still more difficult thing to meddle with, and must, +perhaps, be met rather by the provisions made on the part of landed +proprietors, when leasing their subterranean property to practical +miners, than by anything government can do. At present, the proprietor, +having a life-interest in his estate, desires to obtain from the mines +the largest amount of the most valuable coal at the smallest working +loss. The result is, that vast quantities of inferior but yet valuable +material are left in the pits; quantities that would do something +towards meeting the growing consumption in this kingdom. + +Selfish, narrow-minded people might exclaim: ‘Oh! there will be quite +enough of coal to last us our time. We don’t expect or want to live for +ever; therefore, we won’t bother ourselves about the economy of fuel.’ + +Let us remind such unpatriotic mortals that our manufacturing +and commercial interests rest upon our supplies of coal as their +foundation-stone. Our commercial rivals across the Atlantic possess +magnificent coal-fields, that are practically of indefinite extent. +Exhaust _our_ coal-fields, and their supremacy will become complete. It +behoves each and every one of us to think of the future of our country +and of the interests of those who come after us. + +Perchance some cynic may say: ‘What has posterity ever done for me? Let +posterity take care of itself.’ + +‘Very well,’ we reply; ‘let posterity do for itself. Let us only be +influenced by selfish and non-altruistic principles, and think only of +ourselves. The question is, how can we put money into our own pockets +by using less coal than we do?’ + +First, we can do so by using proper grates. Down to the time of Count +Rumford, the modern world of coal-burners never thought of the true +theory of caloric in connection with grates. Burners of wood had not +tried to be economical; they did not expect to be warm on more than one +side. When their bodies were scorched and their eyes smarted, they had +what they bargained for. Rumford appeared as a new teacher; he laid +down the principles of heat and combustion with admirable clearness, +and flooded England with grates of his favourite type. But in spite of +the teachings of the Count, coal-fires of to-day are as dirty, chilly, +and as wasteful as ever. + +The waste of coal in Britain is positively disgraceful. One hundred +and twenty millions of tons are consumed every year. Of this, one half +might be saved by the adoption of improved appliances. About thirty +million pounds sterling might thus be kept in our banks, instead +of being turned into cinders and smoke. The pall of smoke and fog +that broods over London contains in a single day fifty tons of coal! +The fact is that we burn coal in house-fires on an entirely false +principle—that is, on the principle of a blast-furnace, letting cold +air pass through the centre of the fire, to blaze the coal rapidly +away, and hurry the heat and half-burnt gases unused up the chimney. +We have to go back to the good old principle of the embers on the +earth, when the hearth was, as it is at the present day in many Irish +cottages, a true ‘focus,’ a centre of accumulated heat. We must, then, +return to truer lines, and make our fireplace again a ‘focus’ or ‘well’ +of stored heat, into which we put our fuel, first to be distilled into +gas, which, rising at a high temperature from its hot bed, meets the +air gliding towards the chimney, and bursts into flame, communicating +heat to the firebrick back and to the room. Then, when all the gases +have been burnt off, the red-hot coke remains, and burns away in the +bottom of the grate at a slow rate, yet radiating abundant heat into +the room. + +This desirable end is gained by using Mr Teale’s ‘Economiser.’ The +‘Coal Economiser’ is simply a shield of sheet-iron which stands on the +hearth, and rises as high as the lowest bar of the grate, against which +it should fit accurately, so as to shut in the space under the fire. +Any ordinary blacksmith can make the ‘Economiser.’ It is applicable to +any range, whether in the cottages of the poor or the mansions of the +rich. Those who wish for greater elegance can have it made of steel or +brass. Its chief purpose is to cut off the under current, and to keep +the chamber under the fire hot. + +Count Rumford affirmed that seven-eighths of the heat was carried up +the chimney. Heat is wasted in three ways: by combustion under the +influence of a strong draught; by imperfect combustion; by the escape +of heat through the sides and the back of the fireplace. By using the +‘Economiser’ all this is altered. If there is plenty of heat round the +fuel, then but little oxygen will do. But burn coal with a chilling +jacket, and it needs a fierce draught of oxygen to sustain it. High +temperature does not imply complete combustion, for in making gas, +coke is left. When the ‘Economiser’ is applied, the fire burns with an +orange colour, for the stream of oxygen is slow and steady, and the +coal undergoes complete combustion; consequently, there is an entire +absence of cinders, and only a little fine snuff-like powder falls +into the ‘economised’ chamber. Smoke is also conspicuous by its absence. + +In a recent lecture delivered at the Royal Institution, Mr Teale +mentioned several additional points about the structure of fireplaces, +which tend to the saving of fuel. (1) As much firebrick and as little +iron as possible should be used. Iron absorbs the heat, and chiefly in +directions in which the heat is least wanted. Firebrick retains and +accumulates heat. (2) The back of the fireplace should lean or arch +over the fire, so as to become heated by the rising flame. The heated +back sends forth abundant radiant heat into the room. ‘Milner’s’ back +is a capital arrangement; so is the Nelson ‘Rifle’ back. (3) The bottom +of the grating should be deep from before backwards. (4) The slits in +the grating should be narrow; this prevents small cinders from falling +through. (5) The bars in front should be narrow. + +If the foregoing instructions are attended to, there will be an +enormous saving of fuel. Soot and smoke will be diminished, and there +will be no half-burnt cinders. + +The late Sir William Siemens was an ardent advocate for the use of gas +as a heating agent. At the British Association of 1882, he said: ‘The +time is not far distant when both rich and poor will largely resort to +gas, the most convenient, the cleanest, and cheapest of heating agents, +and when raw coal will only be seen at the colliery or gasworks. In all +cases where the town to be supplied is within, say, thirty miles of +the colliery, the gasworks may with advantage be placed at the mouth, +or, still better, at the bottom of the pit, whereby all haulage of +fuel would be avoided, and the gas in its ascent from the bottom of +the colliery would acquire an onward pressure sufficient, probably, +to impel it to its destination.’ No doubt, if this scheme could be +realised, we would all be deeply indebted to the great man who first +suggested it. More than one half of the coal now consumed would be +saved by its adoption. At present, we must be content with the old +order of things. + +It is astonishing, however, that so few people employ gas instead of +coal as a cooking agent, especially in summer. It secures an immense +saving of labour, not to speak of its superiority over coal in respect +to coolness. In the hot summer days, cooking with a coal-fire in an +ordinary range is a tremendous trial to the poor cook. The kitchen +is like an oven. What a difference if gas is used! The moment it is +no longer required it can be turned off, and the temperature of the +kitchen is soon lowered. By using a gas-stove, no coal is required +during the summer. It is less expensive than coal. Of course, care must +be taken to have it turned off directly it is no longer required, and a +proper economy exercised in its use. Mr Fletcher, of Warrington, a high +authority on gas for cooking and heating purposes, says: ‘The cost of +gas, even if wastefully used, must be considered not only as regards +the saving of coal, but also, what is far greater, the saving in weight +of meat roasted, which is considerable, and the reduced wear and tear, +waste, dirt, and consequent labour. Taken altogether as affecting the +total housekeeping expenses, gas is cheaper than coal for cooking +at any price not exceeding twelve or fourteen shillings per thousand +cubic feet; coal being, say, twelve to fourteen shillings per ton.’ The +majority of people, however, pay very much less for their gas, and more +for coal; in which case, gas will be much cheaper than coal. + +Asbestos heated by gas makes a suitable fire. It is cleanly, quiet, +free from dust, and convenient; and it can be turned on or extinguished +in an instant. + +Enough has been written to show that economy of fuel is not merely +theoretical and fanciful, but that it is practicable and worthy of +earnest attention. + + + + +THE SIGN OF THE _RED INDIAN_. + + +Just on the outskirts of the seaport and garrison town of Chubleigh, +in the south-west of England, stands a little old-fashioned hostelry +called the _Red Indian_. How it came by its name is involved in +obscurity. The antiquity of the inn is undoubted, and a tradition +is current in the district, that during the unfortunate Monmouth’s +rebellion it was used as the temporary head-quarters of Colonel +Kirke. In its back-garden, a wooden seat is still shown to visitors +on which that bloodthirsty officer, surrounded by his ‘lambs,’ is +alleged to have sat in judgment, and thence ruthlessly consigned to +the gallows scores of the unoffending rustics of the locality. From +time immemorial, the _Red Indian_ has been in the hands of a family +named Slade. The present proprietor, though, generally speaking, as +deliberate in manner as John Willet, is yet apt to be garrulously +communicative in talking of his inn and its interesting historical +associations. Above the rustic porch over the door there is fixed a +large, rudely carved, wooden figure of a savage holding in its hand a +tomahawk. The Indian’s nose was long ago knocked off by a well-directed +stone thrown by some mischievous urchin; his original coat of paint has +peeled off, and large cracks are visible, which run the whole length +of the figure. Altogether, this Indian is as disreputable-looking a +sign as a traveller might perceive throughout the length and breadth of +England. Nevertheless, it is in connection with this dilapidated timber +savage that the writer obtained, from the landlord of the _Red Indian_, +materials for the following story. + +When the present century was in its infancy, the son of the then +proprietor, and grand-uncle of the present landlord, was engaged in +the capacity of boatswain of a privateer, which had been fitted out +with the object of preying on the French merchant service. In the +Mediterranean, the privateer captured a large vessel, which in part was +laden with the product of the labours of a Parisian curiosity-hunter, +who had been despoiling ancient Grecian temples, with the object of +supplying the virtuosi of the French metropolis with antique sculptures +and bronzes, and thereby securing a large profit to himself. The +privateersmen were greatly disappointed at not finding specie, and what +they considered marketable merchandise, on board the Frenchman, and +attached but little value to the battered though priceless bas-reliefs +and statues. Boatswain Slade took a great fancy to a life-sized bronze +gladiator, which he considered would prove an acceptable addition to +the attractions of the back-garden of his father’s inn, and managed, +for a few shillings, to effect its purchase from the captain. + +Shortly after the glorious victory of Trafalgar, the privateer was +paid off at Chubleigh; and the boatswain conveyed the statue on shore +to his father’s inn. The gladiator was placed on a brick pedestal, +flanked on either side by two rusty carronades; and the bareness of +the surroundings was relieved by the artistic disposal of a number +of huge shells which the boatswain had brought from ‘foreign parts.’ +The host of the _Red Indian_, however, was soon struck by the idea +of making the figure a sign for his hostelry. He had but little +sentimental regard for the rich green mould of antiquity, so, with +execrable vandalism, carefully scraped it off the statue, and had the +gladiator painted a bright scarlet by a local artist, who took payment +for his work in the old ale for which the hostelry was famous. This +operation performed, the metamorphosed gladiator was removed to a +prominent position in front of the inn door, and for years did duty +as a Red Indian. Its brilliant appearance was a perpetual source of +gratification and delight to the host and his numerous customers; while +inquiring strangers were proudly informed that it had been captured +from the frog-eaters. Once a year the extemporised Indian received a +fresh coat of paint; and save when its head was decorated at times with +a disused tin pail or an old hat by some facetious individuals, it was +not otherwise interfered with. + +At the close of the year 1815, Chubleigh was _en fête_ in connection +with the disembarkation of the 31st Regiment of Light Dragoons, which +during that year had performed doughty service at Waterloo, and which +had just returned from the occupation of Paris. The piping times of +peace had again returned, and, naturally enough, the officers and men +who had assisted to destroy the power of the once dreaded ‘Boney’ were +the objects of popular pride and enthusiasm among the inhabitants of +the town. When the regiment settled down in quarters, invitations to +the houses of the principal townsmen were showered on the officers, and +each vied with the other to entertain these heroes of Waterloo. + +The younger officers, several of whom had left school to join their +regiment in Belgium, gave themselves prodigious airs; but no one +considered himself of so much importance as a raw young Connaught-man, +a cornet named Mike Macnamara. Mike, a warrior of about nine months’ +service, created great amusement both in the officers’ mess and in +the houses to which he was invited by boasting about the number of +Frenchmen whom he had placed _hors de combat_ in the late short but +eventful campaign. His bounce together with his extreme simplicity +rendered him the butt of his brother-officers, and he was in +consequence the victim of numerous practical jokes. In these days, and +for many years subsequently, rough horseplay and the perpetration of +the most uncomfortable imaginable practical jokes were characteristic +of the spirited gentlemen who officered the regiments of British +cavalry. Those of our readers who took the trouble, some years ago, to +wade through the evidence at the Tichborne trial, will remember the +description of the ruthless tricks played on the simple undoubted Roger +by his brother-carabineers. At the present day, military practical +joking is somewhat out of fashion, and any games that may be played are +curtailed of their former disagreeable proportions, and have assumed a +comparatively mild character. + +Cornet Macnamara’s room was the favourite arena for a display of the +ingenious tricks of his facetiously inclined brother-officers. Thistles +and dead cats were placed between his sheets; trapfuls of live rats +were let loose in the apartment; the nuts of his iron bedstead were +unscrewed, so that when the poor fellow turned in, the framework of the +couch tumbled to pieces and landed the mattress on the floor, while at +the same time he was douched by a tub of water from the shelf above, +which was fastened with cord to the mattress, and upset simultaneously +with the collapse of the bed. On such occasions Mike was naturally +wroth, and expressed himself as anxious to call out the offenders; but +despite his utmost vigilance and caution, he could never capture his +tormentors. + +Late one evening, a party of revellers from barracks were passing the +_Red Indian_, when they espied the vermilioned gladiator. Nothing +would satisfy them but to feloniously remove the statue and return +with it to quarters—a work of considerable difficulty, as the figure +was heavy. Arrived thither with their load, some one suggested that it +should be placed in Cornet Macnamara’s room; and this idea was hailed +with general enthusiasm. A scout was despatched to the messroom, in +order to keep watch on Mike’s movements, and give the alarm in case +he should appear on the scene. With great labour the gladiator was +hoisted to the top of the staircase of the officer’s house; and Mike’s +room door having been forced open, the jokers placed the statue in +front of his dressing-table, on the top of an inverted iron coal-box. +The staircase at the time was in process of being whitewashed, so the +officers obtained possession of a tub of the mixture, and smeared the +‘Red Indian’ a dirty white; then taking the sheets from Mike’s bed, +they hung them about the figure, turning it into a respectable-looking +ghost. Afterwards, the officers dropped one by one into the messroom, +and joined a group who were listening with great amusement to a +new-fangled story which was being retailed by Macnamara regarding his +prowess at Waterloo. + +Mike, after clapping an additional two Frenchmen to the previous grand +total of the number who had fallen by his sword, as narrated in his +tale of the previous night, left the messroom in order to proceed to +his quarters, whither, in a minute or two, he was stealthily followed +by the whole of the officers, who anticipated great fun from the +consternation of their victim when beholding the ghastly apparition in +his bedroom. Mike gaily entered the apartment, singing a love ditty of +his native land, and began to fumble for his tinder-box. After several +attempts, he at last managed to light his candle, and of course at +once perceived the ghost. The cornet was filled with the superstitious +notions of a certain section of his countrymen, and started back nearly +overcome with terror. ‘Ye saints in glory! what’s that?’ he cried; +then leaving the room, he plunged madly down the staircase, and rushed +yelling across the parade ground in the direction of the messroom. In +his headlong progress, poor Mike did not observe a party of two ladies +and a gentleman, who happened to be the colonel, accompanied by his +wife and daughter, who had just returned from a dinner-party. Mike ran +full tilt against his commanding officer, and knocked him into a puddle +in the barrack square. The ladies screamed loudly; and the colonel, +with many objurgations, got on his feet and confronted his assailant. + +‘You—Cornet Macnamara!’ he angrily exclaimed. ‘What do you mean, sir, +rushing about like a madman at this time of night? Consider yourself +under arrest, sir.’ + +‘Faith, colonel,’ answered the unfortunate Mike, ‘I am very sorry, +sorr, but I did not percaive ye. But, sorr, I wint up to me room just +now, and as I hope for salvation, I found the divil in it, wid a big +white shate wrapped round him!’ + +The irate colonel at once surmised that another trick had been played +on his subordinate; so he sent the ladies home to quarters, and then +called loudly for the sergeant of the guard with a file of men. + +When this detachment of the guard appeared on the scene, the colonel +ordered them to follow him to Macnamara’s room, where, by the light of +the sergeant’s lantern, he showed the trembling cornet that there was +nothing supernatural in the character of the figure that had frightened +him so much. He then, under the circumstances, relieved Mike from +arrest and proceeded home. + +Mike waited until the commanding officer and the men of the guard were +clear of the staircase, and then slid the gladiator off the coal-box. +He edged the statue to the top of the stair, and by main strength +toppled it over the banister; and an instant later, with a loud crash, +the gladiator was smashed into fragments on the flagstones of the +lobby, four stories beneath. + +It is needless to say that there was great anger and consternation +in the breast of the worthy host of the _Red Indian_ when, next +morning, he awoke and found that his cherished statue had mysteriously +disappeared. It was not long, however, before he obtained a clew to its +whereabouts, as a customer informed him that late the previous night +he ‘met a lot of milingtary chaps carrying summut’ in the direction +of the barracks. This ‘summut’ Mr Slade shrewdly conjectured was his +‘Red Indian;’ and he at once wrote to the regimental quarters to make +inquiries into the matter. + +When the poor landlord discovered the gladiator in its fragmentary +state, he became most angry and abusive; but was somewhat consoled when +an emissary from the mess informed him that the officers would make +good the damage, and requested him to inform them by letter next day +the price at which he valued his statue. The landlord then procured +the services of a passing cart and had the pieces removed to the inn. +After a long consultation with his wife, he decided to assess the +damage at ten guineas; and by way of making the most of the business, +communicated with a marine store-dealer in town, intending to sell the +smashed gladiator as old metal. + +The colonel made the most strenuous though unavailing efforts to +discover the practical jokers, and roundly abused the whole of the mess +for their treatment of poor Mike; but after a while, the affair passed +off in a general laugh. + +Affairs, however, were speedily fated to take a turn which caused the +implicated parties to laugh the other way. A large vessel arrived in +the port of Chubleigh from Alexandria, which had among her passengers a +celebrated London virtuoso, who, some months before, had been induced +to pay a visit to Egypt by reason of the excitement produced in +antiquarian circles by the discoveries of the celebrated Belzoni. This +gentleman was posting to London when his chaise broke down opposite the +_Red Indian_, and he entered the hostelry while the vehicle was being +repaired. After partaking of a little refreshment, he took a walk in +the garden, and his eye caught the fragments of the gladiator, which +had been shot in a corner while waiting the arrival of the marine +store-dealer’s cart. Having elicited the story of the statue from the +host, the antiquary submitted the pieces to a most careful examination; +and despite the whitewash and coats of paint with which the figure +had been adorned, he recognised it as a specimen of the work of the +renowned ancient Greek sculptor Lysippus; and in answer to the excited +inquiry of the astonished landlord, appraised its value at six hundred +pounds! + +Having, at the host’s urgent request, given a written opinion on the +matter, the virtuoso departed on his journey, and then Mr Slade hurried +with his certificate to a Chubleigh attorney, in whose hands he placed +the matter, with instructions to leave no stone unturned to recover the +full amount from the officers. + +Words could scarcely express the chagrin of the purloiners of the +gladiator, when the colonel of the 31st Light Dragoons read at mess +the contents of the letter he received from the legal adviser of +the landlord of the _Red Indian_. The commanding officer further +significantly hinted that the implicated parties would have to uphold +their reputation as officers and gentlemen by paying the amount +demanded, or run the risk of being cashiered. + +At first, the jokers were inclined to dispute the claim, and invited +the opinion of an expert; but that authority, when he had inspected +the figure, corroborated the London man’s decision, with a further +assurance that the statue was cheap at the money. + +Cornet Macnamara, with reasonable show of justification, stoutly +declined to pay a farthing of the six hundred pounds. It was, however, +with a very bad grace, indeed, that the sum was subscribed by the +interested parties; and served as a valuable lesson to them to modify +for the future their spirit of mischief. + +When Mike discovered the identity of his tormentors, he sent a +challenge to each, and an arrangement was come to by which a +representative was selected by ballot to meet the Irishman. The old +trick of leadless pistols was resorted to; the combatants fired three +shots at each other without any perceptible result, and then the +seconds interfered, and declared honour satisfied. + +A Jew purchased the fragments of the gladiator from the officers for a +few guineas; but the wily Israelite well knew that a genuine Lysippus +is almost as valuable broken as whole. He had the pieces skilfully +rejoined, and disposed of the statue to a local virtuoso for a large +sum, who in turn bequeathed it to the Chubleigh Museum. + +With part of the money the lucky landlord of the _Red Indian_ received +for his gladiator, he invested in a wooden figure, which did duty for +a sign equally well, and which he placed above the porch out of the +reach of predatory officers, and where, as has been mentioned, it still +stands, battered, cracked, and mouldy. + +Shortly after the episode of the gladiator, the 31st Light Dragoons +were hurriedly despatched to Lancashire, in order to quell the bread +riots which had broken out in that county; and the actors in the comedy +just narrated were heard of no more by the good folks of Chubleigh. + +A little more remains to be told of the statue by Lysippus. We must +come down to 1851, the year in which the Great Exhibition was held in +Hyde Park. A middle-aged Frenchman landed at Chubleigh from Havre on +his way to London, and while taking a walk about the town, entered +the _Red Indian_. The landlord, who had profited so handsomely by +his statue, had years before gone to his rest, and his son the +ex-boatswain, then an aged man, reigned in his stead. The Frenchman +was interested in learning that his host had taken a share in the old +war, and after a time, he had narrated to him the whole history of the +statue. + +‘Vat vas de name of de vessel you took?’ he eagerly asked. + +‘The _Hercules_, sir.’ + +To the landlord’s astonishment, Monsieur leant back in his chair and +indulged in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, and recovering himself, +asked to be directed to the Museum. Having reached that establishment, +he was not long in picking out the Lysippus, of which the learned in +Chubleigh were so proud. The Frenchman put on his glasses and examined +the gladiator’s toe-nail, and then gave vent to another guffaw, which +speedily brought round him the officials of the establishment. He +asked to see the secretary; and when introduced to the presence of +that functionary, exclaimed: ‘Begar, sir, dat gladiateur is no more a +Lysippus dan I am de Czar Nicholas of all de Russias. My oncle, who die +ven I vas a leetle boy, keep vat you call a foundree in Athens, and +have casts, or _replicas_ you call dem, made of all de antiques. He den +put dem down a sewer until dey get a green magnifique; dey look like +de real article; and he make heaps of money by selling dem as such in +Paris. Your gladiateur is one of dem!’ + +‘But, my dear sir,’ asked the astounded secretary, ‘how are you going +to substantiate your statement?’ + +‘Come wit me,’ said the Frenchman; and the twain proceeded to the +statue. ‘My oncle,’ resumed the Frenchman, ‘deal in de antique, as I +have told you; and in case he himself be cheated wit his own spurious +statues, he have a private mark. Here is dis mark—a leetle hole drilled +under dis toe-nail!’ + +The secretary communicated the purport of Monsieur’s statement to the +Museum directors; experts were called who substantiated the Frenchman’s +assertion that the work was spurious, and was no more the production of +Lysippus than an Italian moulder’s plaster-cast of Venus is the work of +Phidias. In disgust, the directors ordered the statue to be transferred +to the lumber-room of the establishment, and its description, +‘Gladiator, by Lysippus, B.C. about 324; bequeathed by the late ——, +Esq.,’ disappeared from the Museum catalogue. + + + + +ANOTHER ‘SHIP-CANAL.’ + + +Another has been proposed, although the idea is not new, but seems +to have been an old idea revived, and that is, to cut a canal from +the sea to Birkenhead Docks across the low flat country lying between +the outfalls of the Dee and Mersey, and thus getting a wide passage +which will enable ships to avoid the bar of the Mersey. Elaborate +plans have been prepared by an eminent engineer; and as the whole +scheme seems feasible, and as money for great schemes seems to be +readily forthcoming in this wealth-producing country, there can be +no reason why the ‘ship-canal of Birkenhead’ should not be carried +out as well as the ‘ship-canal of Manchester.’ It would have a great +and reviving effect on the town of Birkenhead, which by this means +may one day become an important commercial city, a rival to, instead +of a mere suburb of, her wealthy sister on the opposite Lancastrian +shore; and the expectations of half a century ago of a grand city, with +magnificent streets, and squares, and splendid commercial docks, may +even yet be realised. + + + + +THIS IS ALL. + + + Just a saunter in the twilight, + Just a whisper in the hall, + Just a sail on sea or river, + Just a dance at rout or ball, + Just a glance that hearts enthral— + This is all—and this is all. + + Just a few harsh words of doubting, + Just a silence proud and cold, + Just a spiteful breath of slander, + Just a wrong that is not told, + Just a word beyond recall— + This is all—and this is all. + + Just a life robbed of its brightness, + Just a heart by sorrow filled, + Just a faith that trusts no longer, + Just a love by doubting chilled, + Just a few hot tears that fall— + This is all—ah! this is all. + + ROSIE CHURCHILL. + + * * * * * + +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 75692 *** diff --git a/75692-h/75692-h.htm b/75692-h/75692-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..46f7667 --- /dev/null +++ b/75692-h/75692-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2656 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Chambers’s Journal, November 20, 1886 | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +/*My header */ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } +hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} + + +.header {text-align: center; margin-top: 0;} +.header p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} +.header .floatl {float: left;} +.header .floatr {float: right;} +.header .floatc {padding-top: .5em;} + +.x-ebookmaker .header {text-align: center; margin-top: 0;} +.x-ebookmaker .header p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} +.x-ebookmaker .header .floatl {float: left;} +.x-ebookmaker .header .floatr {float: right;} +.x-ebookmaker .header .floatc {padding-top: .5em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.smalltext{ + font-size: medium; +} + + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} /* page numbers */ + + + +.center {text-align: center;} + + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + + +/* Poetry */ +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .attrib {text-align: right;} + + + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} + + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75692 ***</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="#NOTHING_NEW">NOTHING NEW.</a><br> +<a href="#BY_ORDER_OF_THE_LEAGUE">BY ORDER OF THE LEAGUE.</a><br> +<a href="#AMERICAN_TRAITS">AMERICAN TRAITS.</a><br> +<a href="#COUSIN_GEORGE">COUSIN GEORGE.</a><br> +<a href="#ECONOMY_OF_FUEL">ECONOMY OF FUEL.</a><br> +<a href="#THE_SIGN_OF_THE_RED_INDIAN">THE SIGN OF THE <i>RED INDIAN</i>.</a><br> +<a href="#ANOTHER_SHIP-CANAL">ANOTHER ‘SHIP-CANAL.’</a><br> +<a href="#THIS_IS_ALL">THIS IS ALL.</a><br> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_737">{737}</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. 151.—Vol. III.</span></p> +<p class="floatr"><span class="smcap">Price</span> 1½<em>d.</em></p> +<p class="floatc">SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1886.</p> +</div></div></div> + +<hr class="full"> + + + +<div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="NOTHING_NEW">NOTHING NEW.</h2></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Antiquaries</span> are always delighted to remind us +that there is nothing new under the sun. When +we boast of the great European art of printing, +they bring in the Chinese as evidence against +us. Certain it is, however, that the Romans used +movable types to mark their pottery and bread, +and even to indorse their scroll-books. But if +this is to be called printing, then the Accadians, +and their successors the Assyrians, did the like +on a grand scale many centuries before. To the +last-named people, moreover, must be ascribed, +so far as we at present know, the invention of +a magnifying lens of rock-crystal, a thing so +well made, that Sir David Brewster pronounced +it a true optical instrument. It was found amid +the ruins of Nimroud by Layard.</p> + +<p>It is curious to see also how great natural laws +have been dimly apprehended centuries before +they were rendered demonstrable. The law of +gravitation was undoubtedly discerned by Sir +Isaac Newton; but it is remarkable that in +Cary’s translation of Dante’s <i>Inferno</i> an idea very +like it occurs, namely:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Thou wast on the other side, so long as I</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Descended; when I turned, thou did’st o’erpass</div> +<div class="verse indent0">That point, to which from every part is dragged</div> +<div class="verse indent0">All heavy substance.</div></div> +</div></div> + +<p>Of this passage, Monti remarks that if it had +met the eye of Newton, it might better have +awakened his thought to conceive the system of +attraction than the accidental fall of an apple.</p> + +<p>For fifty or sixty years before any real light +was thrown upon the nature of gravitation, Pedro +Mexia of Seville had a clear and correct idea of +its action. Thus, in his <i>Silva de Varia Leccion</i> +(published in 1542, and which in various translations +was in great demand until the middle of +the seventeenth century), the following appears: +‘The sky is above in all parts of the earth, and +the centre of the earth is below, towards which +all heavy things naturally tend from whatever +side of the earth; so that if God had made a +hole, which by a true diameter passing through the +whole earth, from the point where we are, as far +as the other opposite and contrary to this, on the +other side of the earth, passed through the centre +of it: then if one dropped a plummet, as masons +do, know that it would not pass to the other side +of the earth, but would stop and place itself +in the centre of it; and if from the other side +one let fall another, they would meet together +in the very centre, and there they would stop. +It is quite true that the force might well cause +the plummet to pass somewhat beyond, because +its movement, so long as it was going towards +the centre, would naturally be accelerated, passing +somewhat beyond, but in the end it would return +to its place.’</p> + +<p>Of this old Spanish work, an English translation +was made by T. Fortescue, and printed in +London in 1576, entitled <i>The Forest, or Collection +of Historyes, no less profitable than pleasant and +necessary</i>. Another appeared in 1613 with sundry +essays by other authors, entitled <i>The Treasurie +of Ancient and Modern Times</i>. Considering that +London publishing was on a small scale two and +three centuries ago, it is difficult to believe that +Newton missed seeing these works, even if he +had not heard of the original. At anyrate, he +must in all probability have read what Shakspeare, +borrowing probably from the same source, +puts into the mouth of Cressida:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">But the strong base and building of my love</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Is as the very centre of the earth,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Drawing all things to it.</div> +<div class="attrib"><i>Troilus and Cressida</i>, act iv. scene 2.</div></div> +</div></div> + +<p>Some anticipations of telegraphy are also very +interesting. Galileo, in his <i>Dialogues on the Two +Systems of the World</i>, that is, the Ptolemaic and +Copernican, and which he wrote in 1632, makes +Sagredo say: ‘You remind me of one who offered +to sell me a secret art, by which, through the +attraction of a certain magnet needle, it would be +possible to converse across a space of two or three +thousand miles. I said to him that I would +willingly become the purchaser, provided only +that I might first make a trial of the art, and +that it would be sufficient for the purpose if I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_738">{738}</span>were to place myself in one corner of the sofa +and he in the other. He replied that in so short +a distance the action would be scarcely discernible; +so I dismissed the fellow, and said that +it was not convenient for me just then to travel +into Egypt or Muscovy for the purpose of trying +the experiment; but that if he chose to go there +himself, I would remain in Venice and attend +to the rest.’</p> + +<p>It appears, however, that telegraphy took form +as an idea two thousand years ago, for Addison, +in one of his delightful essays in the <i>Spectator</i> +(No. 241), tells us that ‘Strada, in one of his +Prolusions, gives an account of a chimerical +correspondence between two friends by the help +of a certain lodestone, which had such virtue in +it, that if it touched two several needles, when +one of the needles so touched began to move, the +other, though at never so great a distance, moved +at the same time, and in the same manner. +He tells us that the two friends, being each +of them possessed of one of these needles, made +a kind of a dial-plate, inscribing it with the +four-and-twenty letters, in the same manner as +the hours of the day are marked upon the ordinary +dial-plate. They then fixed one of the +needles on each of these plates in such a manner +that it could move round without impediment, so +as to touch any of the four-and-twenty letters. +Upon their separating from one another into +distant countries, they agreed to withdraw themselves +punctually into their closets at a certain +hour of the day and to converse with one another +by means of this their invention.’</p> + +<p>In Homer’s <i>Odyssey</i>, translated by Pope, the +following curious description—originally detected +by an ingenious mechanic—of the Phœacian +ships of old, has been well observed by the late +Dr Birkbeck to be no inaccurate description of +steam-navigation:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">So shalt thou instant reach the realm assigned</div> +<div class="verse indent0">In wondrous ships, self-moved, instinct with mind.</div> +<div class="verse indent0"> * * + * * *</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Though clouds and darkness veil the encumbered sky,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Fearless, through darkness and through clouds they fly;</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Though tempests rage—though rolls the swelling main,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">The seas may roll, the tempests swell in vain.</div> +<div class="verse indent0">E’en the stern god that o’er the waves presides,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">With fury burns; whilst careless they convey</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Promiscuous every guest to every bay.</div></div> +</div></div> + +<p>It would almost appear from the above passage, +which for ages was considered merely a bold flight +of the imagination, that the ancients were not +unacquainted with some method beyond that of +the ordinary sail, of propelling vessels through +water with safety and celerity.</p> + +<p>Even that horror of naval warfare, the fish-torpedo, +seems to have been once afloat in the +mind of Ben Jonson, although there are good +reasons for thinking he derived the idea itself +from Drummond the inventor, whom he visited +at Hawthornden in 1619. In Jonson’s play, <i>The +Staple of News</i> (act iii. scene 1), we read:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0"><i>Thomas.</i> They write here one Cornelius’ son</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Hath made the Hollanders an invisible eel</div> +<div class="verse indent0">To swim the Haven at Dunkirk, and sink all</div> +<div class="verse indent0">The shipping there.</div></div> + +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0"><i>Pennyboy.</i> But how is’t done?</div></div> + +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0"><i>Cymbal.</i> I’ll show you, sir.</div> +<div class="verse indent0">It’s an automa, runs under water</div> +<div class="verse indent0">With a snug nose, and has a nimble tail</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Made like an auger, with which tail she wriggles</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Betwixt the coats of a ship, and sinks it straight.</div></div> + +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0"><i>Pennyboy.</i> A most brave device</div> +<div class="verse indent0">To murder their flat bottoms!</div></div> +</div></div> + +<p>Some of the most beneficent and useful discoveries +in medical science appear to have been +anticipated years ago. For example, certain +skulls of prehistoric man have afforded the +clearest evidence that even at that remote period +the art of <i>trepanning</i> must have been practised +upon them. A skull found in the tomb of the +Incas, near the city of Cuzco, exhibited distinct +marks of having undergone a like operation. +According to a reputed discovery by M. Stanislaus +Julien, it appears that as far back as the third +century of our era, the Chinese were in possession +of an anæsthetic agent which they employed +during surgical operations. A description of this +was discovered by M. Julien in a work preserved +in the Bibliothèque Nationale, called <i>Kou-kin-i-tong</i>, +or a General Collection of Ancient and +Modern Medicines, which appears to have been +published in the sixteenth century. In a biographical +notice of Hoa-tho, who flourished under +the dynasty of Wei, between the years 220 and +230 of our era, it is stated that he gave the patient +a preparation of <i>cannabis</i> (<i>Ma-yo</i>), who in a few +moments became as insensible as one plunged in +drunkenness or deprived of life; then, according +to the case, he made incisions, amputations, &c. +After a certain number of days, the patient found +himself re-established, without having experienced +the slightest pain during the operation. It +appears from the biography of Han that this +<i>cannabis</i> was prepared by boiling and distillation.</p> + +<p>Of the Germ Theory of disease, it must also be +said, it is no novelty. That noted physician, +Athanasius Kircher, in his work on the plague—published +at Rome in 1658—attributed the origin +of epidemics to germs, or, as he termed them, +animalcules. He argued that each kind of putrefaction +gives rise to a special virus, which produces +a definite species of malady.</p> + +<p>Even sticking-plaster is not a modern surgical +appliance. One of the highest living authorities +in organic chemistry states that the ordinary +lead-plaster now so commonly used was said to +be discovered by the Roman physician Menecrates +in the middle of the first century.</p> + +<p>Some readers of this <i>Journal</i> will remember +that while the British Association was in progress +at Montreal (1884), a telegram was received from +Mr Caldwell in Australia, notifying that he had +found <i>monotremes oviparous with mesoblastic ovum</i>—that +is, that the ornithorhynchus, the duck-bill +or water mole, laid eggs. This piece of news +greatly interested naturalists, since it was justly +regarded as furnishing one more link in the chain +of evidence tending to support the evolution +hypothesis. However, in a work entitled <i>The +Literary Pancratium</i>, by Robert and Thomas +Swinburn Carr, published in London in 1832, +a quotation in the form of a footnote appears on +page 8, as follows: ‘But this is New Holland, +where it is summer with us when it is winter in +Europe, and <i>vice versâ</i>; where the barometer rises +before bad weather, and falls before good; where +the north is the hot wind, and the south the +cold; where the humblest house is fitted up +with cedar; where the fields are fenced with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_739">{739}</span>mahogany, and myrtle-trees are burnt for firewood; +where the <i>swans are black</i> and the eagles +white; where the kangaroo, an animal between +the squirrel and the deer, has five claws on its +forepaws and three talons on its hind-legs, like a +bird, and yet hops on its tail; where the mole +lays eggs, and has a duck’s bill; where there is +a bird with a broom in its mouth instead of a +tongue; where there is a fish, one half belonging +to the genus <i>Raja</i>, and the other to that of +<i>Squalus</i>; where the pears are made of wood, with +the stalk at the broader end; and where the +cherry grows with the stone on the outside.’—(Field’s +<i>New South Wales</i>, page 461.)</p> + +<p>In striking contrast to all the above-named +instances of rediscovery, is that fact furnished +by some Assyrian bas-reliefs—that is, that the +lion, or at least the Asiatic species, has a <i>claw</i> +in the tuft of his tail. This fact, which, strangely +enough, was disputed in classic times, although +forty years before the birth of Christ, Didymus of +Alexandria discovered it, had been quite overlooked +by modern naturalists. Soon after the +finding of the sculpture, Mr Bennett, an English +zoologist, verified the observation.</p> + +<p>Homer’s famous story of the battle between +the frogs and the mice is doubtless a political +satire. That the story was originally suggested +by actual observation is not an unreasonable +fancy. Homer may even have seen the mimic +campaign for himself, for it is but a tradition +that he was blind. In a recent number of +<i>Nature</i>, a correspondent states that he saw a short +time since several mice pursuing some frogs in +a shed. The alacrity of the reptiles rendered +the attacks of the mice futile for some time. +‘Again and again the frogs escaped from the +clutches of their foes, but only to be recaptured, +severely shaken, and bitten.’ They were at length +‘overpowered by the mice, which devoured a +part of them.’</p> + +<p>The first scientific expedition on record is one +in which Aristotle was sent by Alexander the +Great (more than 300 <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span>) for the purpose of collecting +subjects for a History of Animals. In this +enterprise he met with both the paper and the +pearly nautilus; for in the <i>Historia Animalium</i>, +he says, after describing different forms of Cephalopods, +which no doubt abounded in Asiatic seas: +‘There are also two other kinds of polypes which +are in shells, the one [that is, the paper nautilus] +has a shell which is not naturally adherent to +it; it feeds very frequently near the land, and +being cast by the waves on the sand, the shell +slips, and it dies; but the other [the pearly +nautilus] is in a shell in which it exists after +the manner of a snail, and outwardly extends +its arms.’—(<i>Scaliger’s translation.</i>) Nothing was +added to this account during the dark ages that +succeeded, nor even till some time after the +revival of literature. No further information +respecting the nautilus was obtained until the +discovery of a living specimen early in the +eighteenth century by Rumphius, a Dutch merchant +and naturalist, resident at Amboyna. His +drawing of the soft parts separated from the +shell was greatly valued for more than a century +before another specimen was found, although the +shells were cast ashore in comparative abundance. +This specimen was sent to Professor Owen, and +formed the subject of an elaborate memoir by +him in 1832. It may be said to have been the +first to confirm the history of this remarkable +organism given more than two thousand years +before.</p> + +<p>Here, then, we have another instance of modern +research simply verifying that which was an +ancient discovery.</p> + +<p>It is even said that the stereoscope, which is +Professor Wheatstone’s invention, was known to +Euclid, and minutely described by Galen, the +physician, sixteen centuries ago; moreover, it was +still more completely defined in the works of +Baptista Porta in the year 1599. As for photography, +its discovery is by common consent +referred to Daguerre, who announced it to the +Academy of Sciences in 1839. This beautiful +art has, however, been found clearly described +by M. Jobard in his <i>Nouvelles Inventions aux +Expositions Universelles</i>, 1857, taken from a translation +from the German three hundred years +ago.</p> + +<p>An ancient gold coin <i>recast</i> is, after all, the +same precious metal; even so, truths long lost +are, when found, restamped by human thought +and made current again for the world’s good. +How few are privileged, or have the genius, to +enrich mankind with an original discovery!</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></div> + + +<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Le Gautier</span> followed the footman into the +drawing-room, where Enid was engaged with +some visitors—three tall showy-looking girls, with +an extremely vivacious mother. Le Gautier stood +looking out of one of the windows, and noticed +with satisfaction their intention of a speedy +exit. For some moments the visitors remained +chattering, and then, after a profusion of compliments, +accompanied by much laughter, their +voluminous skirts were heard switching down +the broad staircase. It has often been a matter +of speculation as to whether a man can be in +love with two women at the same time; but +without going into this delicate question, it +is possible to imagine a man with a penchant +for two women, though the experiment probably +would be attended with great hazard and danger. +Le Gautier forgot the dark-eyed Marie, as he +gazed upon Enid’s fairer charms.</p> + +<p>‘You have heard nothing of Maxwell?’ he +asked after a pause in the desultory conversation. +‘A strange thing he does not write. +Many men would imagine that such a thing is +not altogether an accident; there are occasions +when a little absence from the gaze of man is +desirable, Miss Charteris.’</p> + +<p>‘Many men, as usual, would be wrong,’ Enid +answered coldly. ‘You should not shield your +want of charity by these generalities, Monsieur +le Gautier, though perhaps you have derived +benefit from these absences yourself, you seem +to understand the subject so thoroughly.’</p> + +<p>Enid was angry at his cool insolence, and +replied to his want of taste by a little plain +language herself; and her random shaft went +home.</p> + +<p>‘You are severe; but really, while sorry for +Maxwell, there is something in it which is comforting +to me. Can you not guess what I mean?’</p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_740">{740}</span></p> +<p>Enid Charteris, though guileless and pure as +woman can be, had not mixed with the great +world for nothing. She had had suitors enough +to know what a proposal was, and above all +things she dreaded one from this man. Some +instinct told her he would be a dangerous enemy. +‘You speak in riddles,’ she said calmly. ‘I have +not been educated to the language of diplomacy. +Pray, explain yourself.’</p> + +<p>‘Then I must be more explicit. Maxwell’s +absence rids me of a dangerous rival. Now he +is away, the path is all the smoother for me. +Need I tell you, Miss Charteris—Enid—that I +love you? Surely you must have known that +for a long time past. While another was in +the way, I sealed my lips; but I can restrain +myself no longer now.’</p> + +<p>‘It would be affectation not to understand +you,’ Enid replied with a calmness that boded +ill for Le Gautier’s success. ‘I am sorry to hear +it. If you are wise, you will not put me to +the pain of a refusal.’</p> + +<p>‘I will take no refusal,’ Le Gautier burst out +passionately; ‘for I swear that if you are not +mine, you shall wed no other man. Enid, you +must, you shall be mine! You may look upon +me coldly now, but the time will come when +you shall love me well enough.’</p> + +<p>‘The time will come when I shall—love—you?’ +The bitter scorn in these words stung +Le Gautier to madness, stirring up a desperate +passion in his veins, now that the prize seemed +like slipping from his grasp. He fell at her +feet on his knees. ‘Hear me!’ he exclaimed +passionately—‘only listen to me, Enid. I have +vowed that you are the only woman I have +chosen—the only girl I could really love. Such +love as mine must win a return some day; only +try; only give me a little chance of hope.’</p> + +<p>‘If you are a man, you will rise from that +absurd position. Who am I, that you should +kneel to me? You must take my word for it; +and if you have any consideration for my feelings, +you will change the subject.’</p> + +<p>‘And this is your absolute and final decision?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, it is my absolute and final decision.’</p> + +<p>Le Gautier rose to his feet, pale but smiling, +and there was a darkly evil look upon his +white set face. When he spoke again his words +were cold and incisive. ‘Consider, before you +wilfully make an enemy of me.’ He uttered the +words with a low sibilation. ‘I have made you +an offer—the highest compliment I could pay, +and you have scornfully rejected it. The next +favour you ask from me you may seek for on +your knees.’</p> + +<p>‘And to what purpose, sir, shall <i>I</i> ask a favour +from <i>you</i>?’</p> + +<p>‘For your father,’ Le Gautier answered quietly, +though his tones were deep and earnest. ‘You +have guessed that Maxwell has gone away on a +dangerous mission. Why should not Sir Geoffrey +be chosen in his turn? And if so, who can save +him? I, Hector le Gautier, and no other man.’</p> + +<p>‘And by whose evil counsel has my poor father +been dragged into your infamous Brotherhood?—By +yours alone! He would be a happy man +now, if he had never known you’——</p> + +<p>‘On the contrary,’ Le Gautier interrupted, ‘I +tried to save him. He has joined on his own +wish. You do not credit my words. Go and +ask him now if my words are not true, and +that, if it is not his dearest wish that you should +become my wife.’</p> + +<p>‘He might think so,’ Enid answered haughtily; +‘but he does not wish it in his heart. Monsieur +le Gautier, if you are a gentleman, you will cease +this discussion. The subject is painful to me.’ +She stood there, looking at him coldly and scornfully.</p> + +<p>But her very iciness only served to increase +the warmth of his passion. ‘I cannot!’ he exclaimed. +‘I will not cease! For five years, +ever since I first met you at Rome, I have never +ceased to love you. Bid me do anything in +reason; ask me any favour; but to forget you +is impossible!’</p> + +<p>‘I am sorry for you,’ Enid said gently, touched +a little by the ring of genuine passion in his +voice—‘I am sorry; but it cannot be. I do not +break my pledges so lightly, even if I wished +to do so.’</p> + +<p>‘Which you do not,’ Le Gautier bitterly remarked. +‘I do not care. I am desperate now. +You despise and scorn me; but I will not be +rejected thus. If you will not be my wife for +my sake, you must for your father’s and the +honour of your house.’ He stopped abruptly, +for standing in the room was Sir Geoffrey, his +face pale, and his whole aspect downcast and +degraded to a pitiable degree.</p> + +<p>Enid turned to her father eagerly. ‘Did you +hear these words?’ she asked. ‘Can it be possible +that you—that I—that the honour of our +house is in any man’s hands? Can it be your +wish, father, that I—I—should form an alliance +with Monsieur le Gautier? Speak, and show +him how mistaken he can be!’</p> + +<p>But Sir Geoffrey never spoke. His head sank +lower upon his breast. For the first time, he +realised the sacrifice he had imposed upon his +daughter, and so he stood there, an English +gentleman no longer, but a poor enfeebled, +shamefaced old man.</p> + +<p>A wild feeling of alarm took possession of Enid +as she saw this thing. ‘Why do you not speak?’ +she demanded. ‘What cause have you to hesitate +in indorsing my words?’</p> + +<p>Still the baronet never spoke, never raised his +head.</p> + +<p>Enid ran swiftly to his side and threw one +arm round his shoulder. She could feel the +spasm that struck him as he encountered her +touch. ‘Father,’ she asked in a dull even voice, +‘does your silence mean that he is right?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, my dear child; he is right. There is +no alternative.’</p> + +<p>There is a providence which helps us in such +times as these, a numbness of the senses that for +a time deadens pain. Enid’s voice was very calm +as she turned to Le Gautier, standing there +trying to disguise his triumph. ‘I do not know +what all this means,’ she said. ‘I do not understand +whence you derive your power. I cannot +think now. For his sake,’ she continued, pointing +to her father, ‘I consent.’</p> + +<p>Le Gautier sprang forward; but she repelled +him with a glance.</p> + +<p>‘Listen to my conditions,’ she continued. ‘I +have said I consent; but I warn you that if +there is any loophole for escape from you, I shall +take it. You are going away, you say. Nothing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_741">{741}</span>must be done till your return, and then the contract +shall be fulfilled. Now, go.’</p> + +<p>When Lucrece entered the room a few moments +later, she found her mistress lying unconscious +upon the floor. Looking out of the window, +she saw the slim figure of Le Gautier disappearing +in the distance, and smiled. He was smiling, +too, as he walked away. Nothing remained now +but only the final interview with Marie, and to +regain possession of the lost moidore. A few +weeks at Warsaw, and then——</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3> + +<p>Maxwell had been gone a week now, and no +tidings of him had reached England, save one +letter to say he was in Rome. As Le Gautier +turned away from Grosvenor Square, his heart +one glow of triumph, he determined that, come +what may, the artist should never see England +again. When he returned from Warsaw, he +calculated that, through Marie St Jean’s assistance, +all information concerning the League +would be in the hands of the police, freeing +him from any further bondage, and throwing +all the odium and danger on her. Full of these +schemes, he arrived at his lodgings. A telegram +was lying on the table. He took it up mechanically, +and tore it open. The contents were terse: +‘Visci died this morning from heart disease.’ +Le Gautier was wild with rage. Here was a +pretty combination, he thought. Nothing now +to detain Maxwell in Rome. The victim had +fallen by a higher Hand than that of man, and +Maxwell was free.</p> + +<p>As a Head Centre of the Order, Le Gautier +wielded much power, and even now he did not +despair, with the command of nearly all the +desperadoes in Rome at his command. He had +only to get Maxwell arrested in Rome on some +false charge and carried to the mountains; and +there—after a little delay and a packed meeting +of the League—shot. Desperate men such as +Le Gautier, especially with such a prize in their +grasp, do not long hesitate over such a trifling +matter as a human life, and he trusted to his +own good luck and native audacity to pull him +through.</p> + +<p>It was getting dark the same night as he +despatched a telegram to Rome, and then turned +in the direction of Fitzroy Square. He was as +eager now to see Isodore as he had been to +encounter Enid in the afternoon, and looked +forward not only to a pleasant evening but a +remunerative one.</p> + +<p>She did not keep him long waiting in the +drawing-room ere she sailed in all smiles and +welcome. She was looking radiantly beautiful +to-night; there was a deeper flush on her face, +and a glitter in her glorious eyes not usually +seen there—signs of a loving welcome, Le Gautier +imagined in his egotistical way. There was, +besides, a warmth in her manner and a gladness +in the pressure of her hand which inspired him, +and sent an electric thrill coursing through his +veins.</p> + +<p>‘You are looking more transcendently lovely +than usual, Marie!’ he exclaimed with a fervour +unusual even to him. ‘Every time I see you, +there is some additional charm in you to note.’</p> + +<p>‘It depends upon whether the observing eye +is a prejudiced one,’ she replied with a caressing +smile, which brought him at once to her side. +‘You say that now, Hector. How long will you +continue to think so?’</p> + +<p>‘As long as I have power to think at all—as +long as memory serves me. I shall remember +you to the last day of my life.’</p> + +<p>‘I believe you will,’ Isodore smiled bewilderingly. +‘And yet, strange as it may seem, the +time will perhaps come when you will wish you +had never seen my face.’</p> + +<p>‘You are more than usually enigmatical to-night, +Marie. You are a puzzle to me. I do +not even know who you are. Tell me something +about yourself, and why you are living in this +solitude here.’</p> + +<p>‘No; not to-night; but, as I have often +promised you, I will tell you some time. I will +tell you who I am before you go away; and +then, when your curiosity is satisfied, you will +leave me.’</p> + +<p>‘Never!’ Le Gautier exclaimed passionately. +‘Leave you!—the only woman I ever saw that +I could really love. Leave you, Marie! How +can you entertain the bare idea!’</p> + +<p>He would have approached her nearer, but +she waved him gently but firmly aside. The +distance she kept him fanned his passion all the +more. ‘Tell me something about yourself,’ she +said. ‘That is a topic which never fails to +interest me. How about the League, this Maxwell’s +journey? Has he accomplished his mission +yet?’</p> + +<p>‘He is not likely to, now. Visci is dead!—Gracious +powers, Marie! what ails you? Are +you ill?’</p> + +<p>Isodore uttered a sharp exclamation, and then +reeled forward in her chair. Her face was white +and drawn, her lips trembled. Gradually her +bosom ceased to heave so painfully, and she +turned to Le Gautier with a white wan smile, +though he could see the fan still trembling in +her hands. ‘It is nothing,’ she said with an +effort. ‘I am subject to these attacks of the +heart, and any news of sudden death always +affects me so.—Do not look distressed; it is past +now.’</p> + +<p>‘There is nothing in the name to cause you any +distress?’ Le Gautier asked suspiciously.</p> + +<p>‘I have heard the name before, if that is what +you mean. Tell me all you know of this Carlo +Visci.’</p> + +<p>‘I did not say his name was Carlo,’ Le Gautier +observed, somewhat sharply. ‘I can tell you +nothing more. When I reached home this afternoon, +I had a telegram to say he was dead.’</p> + +<p>‘And this Maxwell, what of him? I suppose +he will return home now?’</p> + +<p>‘He has been somewhat dilatory in obeying +orders. No; he will not return. He will be +detained at Rome for the present.’</p> + +<p>‘Tell me why you hate this Englishman so.’</p> + +<p>Le Gautier started. ‘How do you know I +hate him?’ he asked. ‘I have never said so.’</p> + +<p>‘Not in so many words; but in gesture and +look, when you speak of him, your actions are +eloquent, my friend. He has crossed your path. +Ah, well, I like a good hater. Maxwell will +suffer yet.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ Le Gautier exclaimed involuntarily, ‘he +will.’</p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_742">{742}</span></p> +<p>Isodore rose and walked to the piano, where +she sat for a moment striking the chords idly. +‘When do you go to Warsaw?’ she asked.</p> + +<p>‘I have six days remaining to me.—Marie, the +time has come when we must no longer delay. +The pear is ripe now; all my plans are matured. +I have only to hold up my hand and the League +will vanish.’</p> + +<p>All this time, Isodore played on softly, musingly, +the music serving like the accompaniment +of a song to force the speaker’s voice. As he +stood there, and she answered him, she never +ceased to play the soft chords.</p> + +<p>‘Then you have everything prepared?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, everything is ready.’ He drew a low +seat to her side, and seated himself there. ‘All +the names are made out, the whole plot prepared.’</p> + +<p>‘And you propose to hand them over to me. +It is a great compliment; and I suppose I must +take them. I would run greater risks than this +for your sake and—my own.’</p> + +<p>She took one hand from the ivory keys and +held it out to him. Drawing a packet from his +pocket, he gave it to her. She thrust it in her +bosom, and ran her fingers over the keys again.</p> + +<p>‘All is there, I suppose,’ she asked, ‘down to +the minutest detail, everything necessary to +betray the League and pull it up root and +branch? You have taken good care to shield +yourself, I presume?’</p> + +<p>‘Of course.—And now, to talk of more pleasant +things. You know I am going away in +a few days; and when I return, I shall expect +to find myself perfectly free.’</p> + +<p>‘You may depend upon me. I will do all +I can for you.’</p> + +<p>Le Gautier looked up sharply—the words were +coldly, sternly uttered, but the quiet placid smile +never left her face.</p> + +<p>‘How strangely you speak! But oh, Marie—my +Marie, the only woman I ever loved, you +will stand by me now, and help me, for both +our sakes! Look at me, and say you will do +what I ask!’</p> + +<p>Isodore looked down, smiling brightly. ‘Yes, +I will do what you ask,’ she said. ‘And so +you really love me?’</p> + +<p>‘Passionately and sincerely, such as I never +expected to love woman yet.’</p> + +<p>‘I am glad to hear you say that,’ Isodore +replied with a thrill of exultation in her voice. +‘I have waited and hoped for the time to come; +but never in my wildest dreams did I look for +this.’</p> + +<p>‘With your nobleness and beauty, how could +it be otherwise? I should be more than a man—or +less—if I looked upon you unmoved.’</p> + +<p>‘Then, for the first time for years, I am happy.’</p> + +<p>Le Gautier started to his feet rapturously. +He did not understand her yet; he thought the +soft earnest words all for him. He would have +caught her there and then in his eager arms, +but again she repulsed him. ‘No, no!’ she cried; +‘I have not proved you yet. Let things remain +as they are till you return again to England.’</p> + +<p>How strange, Le Gautier thought vaguely, +that she should use words so similar to those of +Enid to a precisely similar plea. Despite his +passion, he had not thrown all prudence to the +winds.</p> + +<p>‘You had better leave me now,’ Isodore continued—‘leave +me to think and dwell over this +thing.’</p> + +<p>‘But what about my badge of membership? I +dare not leave England without that.’</p> + +<p>‘I had almost forgotten it in this interesting +conversation. It is not in my possession; it is +in Paris. You have a meeting of the League +before you go for final instructions. Come to +me after that, and you shall have it. I am going +to Paris to-morrow, and will bring it with me.’</p> + +<p>‘You are a witch!’ Le Gautier exclaimed with +admiration. ‘You seem to know as much as the +mysterious Isodore, that princess who never shows +herself unless danger besets the League. If she +is the wonder men who have seen her say she is, +they stand in dire need of her now.’</p> + +<p>‘Beware how you talk so lightly of her—she +has the gift of fernseed. At this very moment +she may know of your perfidy.’</p> + +<p>‘Perfidy is a hard word, my queen, and sounds +not prettily.—And now, good-night. And you +will not fail me?’</p> + +<p>‘I will <i>not</i> fail you,’ Isodore replied with the +stern inflection Le Gautier had noticed before, +and marvelled over. ‘I never fail.’</p> + +<p>‘A woman, and never fail!’</p> + +<p>‘Not in my promises. If I make a vow or +pledge my word, I can wait five years or ten to +fulfil it.—Good-night. And when we meet again, +you will not say I have belied my contract.’</p> + +<p>When Valerie entered some minutes later, she +found Isodore with firm-set face and gleaming +eyes. ‘My brother is dead,’ she said quietly. +‘Poor Carlo! And he loved me so at one time. +Now, he can never know.’</p> + +<p>‘Dead!’ Valerie exclaimed. ‘You do not mean +to say’——</p> + +<p>‘That Maxwell killed him?—No. His heart +has been failing for years, long before I left +Rome; his life was not worth an hour’s purchase. +But I have no time to mourn over him +now.—Let me see if I can do a little good with +my useless occupation. I start for Rome to-morrow.’</p> + +<p>Valerie looked at her friend in stupid astonishment.</p> + +<p>‘I cannot explain to you now. Maxwell is +free to return home. As you know, it means +destruction to Le Gautier’s plans, if he does. +I dared not press him too closely to-night; +but Maxwell will be detained in Rome, in all +probability by Paulo Lucci, till some charge can +be trumped up for his destruction. But Lucci +and his band dare not cross me; my power is +too great for that. To-morrow, I leave for Rome, +and pray heaven that I may not be too late!’</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="AMERICAN_TRAITS">AMERICAN TRAITS.</h2></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is usual in this country to regard the Americans +as a homogeneous people, and to accept the +Yankee as a fair type of the whole nation. But +this is a fallacy. The inhabitants of the South, +and more especially the descendants of the early +French and Spanish colonists to be found in +the Gulf States, differ radically in their morals, +manners, and customs from the population of +other sections of the Union. It is not, however, +our purpose in this paper to enter into an +extended disquisition upon the characteristics +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_743">{743}</span>of the people of the United States, our object +being simply to touch briefly upon a few of +their more prominent traits. The Puritan element +in the character of the first settlers of New +England has exercised an influence upon social +life there which has not been confined to that +limited area, but has made itself felt, in a more +or less marked degree, throughout the whole of +the Northern States. The differences of race +and climate have, however, not only been obstacles +to the inhabitants of the South accepting the +Puritan standard of morals, but have also prevented +the development of those traits of character +to be found in the population of other parts of +the country, and which are more peculiarly distinctive +of the Americans as a people. We shall +therefore limit ourselves to dealing with those +national characteristics which have come under +our observation in the Northern States.</p> + +<p>That submission to the will of the majority +which is inculcated by democratic institutions has +exercised a marked influence upon the social no +less than upon the political life of the people of +the United States, save in the late Slave States. +It has not only had the result of preventing the +development of individuality of character, but +likewise has considerably modified that obstinacy +of temper and dogged tenacity of opinion which +are to be found in the Anglo-Saxon race. The +late Lord Beaconsfield on one occasion said in the +House of Commons that a gentleman who had +spent several years in America had declared to +him that it was his belief that ‘the citizens of +the republic were the most tractable people in +the world, and the readiest open to conviction +by argument.’</p> + +<p>In the United States, the absence of that segregation +of the various grades of society which exist +in Europe is evinced by the habits and manners +of the masses in that country. If the national +independence of character be occasionally pushed +too far, and degenerate into offensive self-assertion, +at least it prevents any approach to servility. No +inequality of position or circumstances will induce +a native of any of the Northern States to submit +to being dealt with in the manner or spoken to +in the tone which, in England, the man in broadcloth +too frequently adopts, as a matter of course, +towards the man in fustian. The late Sydney +Godolphin Osborne used to relate how, once, a +respectable artisan said to him: ‘I like you, my +lord; there is nothing of the gentleman about +you.’ The meaning of the speaker was undoubtedly +that Lord Osborne did not treat him +in the patronising manner that members of the +higher class usually address those whom they +regard as their social inferiors. Now, no one perhaps +has a keener appreciation of the advantages +of wealth and education than the American; +but that the possessor of them should feel himself +justified in using towards the man who lacks these +adventitious gifts the language of a superior to +an inferior, is what he cannot understand, and +which he will not for one moment put up with. +An anecdote Thackeray used to relate of an +experience of his when in the United States +well illustrates this trait of the people. While +in New York, he expressed to a friend a desire to +see some of the ‘Bowery Bhoys,’ who, he had +heard, were a class of the community peculiar to +that city. So one evening he was taken to the +Bowery, and he was shown a ‘Bhoy.’ The young +man, the business of the day being over, had +changed his attire. He wore a dress-coat, black +trousers, and a satin waistcoat; whilst a tall +hat rested on the back of his head, which was +adorned with long well-greased hair—known as +‘soap-locks’—a style which the rowdies of that +day affected. The youth was leaning against a +lamp-post, smoking an enormous cigar; and his +whole aspect was one of ineffable self-satisfaction. +The eminent novelist, after contemplating him +for a few moments with silent admiration, +said to the gentleman by whom he was accompanied: +‘This is a great and gorgeous creature!’ +adding: ‘Can I speak to him without his taking +offence?’</p> + +<p>Receiving an answer in the affirmative, Thackeray +went up to the fellow, on the pretext of +asking his way, and said: ‘My good man, I want +to go to Broome Street.’</p> + +<p>But the unlucky phrase, ‘My good man,’ +roused the gall of the individual spoken to. +Instead, therefore, of affording the information +sought, the ‘Bhoy’—a diminutive specimen of +humanity, scarcely over five feet in height—eyeing +the tall form of his interlocutor askance, +answered the query in the sense that his permission +had been asked for the speaker to visit +the locality in question, and he said, patronisingly: +‘Well, sonny, yer kin go thar.’</p> + +<p>When Thackeray subsequently related the incident, +he laughingly declared that he was so disconcerted +by the unexpected response, that he +had not the courage to continue the dialogue.</p> + +<p>The question, however, differently put would, +in all probability, have elicited a civil answer +from ninety-nine out of a hundred of the members +of the class to which the man belonged. In fact, +the discourtesy, and even rudeness, of which some +travellers in the United States complain have +arisen from the fact of their failing to appreciate +the difference existing between the social systems +of that country and their own.</p> + +<p>The wide gulf in culture which in England +separates the upper and middle classes from the +lower orders, does not exist in America. This +has arisen from various causes. In the first +place, the great bulk of the people of the Union +are much better educated than is as yet the +case in this country. The admirable system of +common or, as they are termed, ‘public’ schools +which prevails in America affords facilities for +all children obtaining a sound English education +without the payment by their parents of any +school fees, and at a trifling cost to the taxpayer +in all sections of the Union, and especially in the +West, where large grants have been made of the +State lands in support of the public schools. In +the second place, the social status of the working +classes who are <i>natives</i> of the United States has +been raised by the fact that the Americans are +almost exclusively engaged in avocations demanding +intelligence and skilled labour. This has +been owing to the circumstance that upon the +coloured population and the Irish and German +immigrants have devolved those coarse and irksome +occupations which have to be followed by +a portion of the inhabitants of other countries. +To give one instance of this alone, it may be +stated that rarely is a native American citizen, +man or woman, found occupying the position +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_744">{744}</span>of a domestic servant in any of the Atlantic +cities.</p> + +<p>The wages, too, commanded by artisans and +mechanics averaging nearly double those of the +same class in other countries, it follows, necessarily, +that vice and crime—the inevitable concomitants +of a state of society in which the +condition of the mass of the lower classes is but +one step removed from absolute indigence, as is +the case in most European countries—are not +nearly so prevalent in America. In the New +England States, where the foreign population is +small, there is not a country in Europe—possibly +with the exception of Holland—where there is +so little crime. Few persons, indeed, are aware +how much the foreign element in the community, +in many of the States, contributes to the statistics +of the offences which come under the cognisance +of the criminal tribunals. In the State of New +York alone, seventy per cent. of the infractions +of the law are committed by the Irish, whilst +the fair ratio of this class in proportion to the +whole population would be a little less than +twenty per cent.</p> + +<p>One of the most marked characteristics of the +Americans is their rooted determination to resist +any legislation which shall recognise any class +distinctions in the community. Of course, no one +contends that the man of wealth, education, and +culture is not the superior, in one sense of the +word, of him who lacks these. The equality +insisted upon is simply this: that no class of +society shall make the circumstance of enjoying +these adventitious advantages a ground for the +members of it basing a claim to be a separate +caste, possessing rights and privileges—fenced in +by law—denied to the bulk of their countrymen. +This sentiment found expression in the opposition +which the proposal met with, a few years ago, +that persons in the Civil Service of the Federal +government should be irremovable, save for misconduct, +instead of being turned out of their places +after every change of administration, as had previously +been the case. It was argued that fixity +of tenure of office would have the result of +creating a bureaucracy, the members of which +would come in time to regard themselves as a +privileged class. That these apprehensions were +unfounded, experience of the practical working of +the new system of government patronage has +proved. But the very fact of the objection having +been raised at all shows how sensitive public +opinion was on the subject.</p> + +<p>One noticeable feature of American society is +that in none of the Northern States does an officer +in the army or navy enjoy the social status that he +commands in all European countries. Holmes, in +<i>The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table</i>, has commented +upon this trait of his countrymen. He says: ‘It +is curious to observe of how small account military +folk are held among our Northern people. Our +young men must gild their spurs, but they need +not win them. The equal division of property +keeps the younger sons of rich people above the +necessity of military service. Thus, the army +loses one element of refinement, and the moneyed +upper classes forget what it is to count heroism +amongst their virtues. Still, I don’t believe in +any aristocracy without pluck as its backbone. +Ours may show it when the day comes, if ever it +does come.’</p> + +<p>The opportunity for young men of the wealthier +class proving their manhood came sooner than +Holmes anticipated when he penned the above +remarks; for less than three years later, the +civil war broke out, and then this class were not +slack in responding to the call of their country +for their services. Numerous instances occurred +of young men reared in luxury—unable to +obtain commissions owing to their want of military +training—shouldering muskets in the ranks +of the Federal armies; and their patriotism received +due recognition from their fellow-citizens. +But in time of peace it is the members of the community +who are engaged in those pursuits best +remunerated who are held in the highest estimation—a +necessary result of a condition of society +in which wealth is the standard by which social +position is measured and defined. The girl who +in the French song exclaims, ‘Oh! que j’aime les +militaires!’ utters a sentiment which as a rule +finds no echo in the hearts of the American fair. +An odd illustration of this fact came under the +observation of the writer when he was resident in +New York. A lady—whose brother had been +educated at the government Military Academy +at West Point—gave, in all seriousness, the reason +why this gentleman, after graduating, had not +accepted a commission in the army, in these +words: ‘He had a higher ambition than to be a +mere soldier, so he has become a dry-goods +merchant.’</p> + +<p>In New York, and indeed in all the larger +Atlantic cities, a class has sprung up of late years +which affects to look down upon the political and +social institutions of their country. Mr Howells, +in his novel <i>A Woman’s Reason</i>, speaking of one +of the Upper Ten, says: ‘He saw what a humbug +democracy and equality really were. He must +have seen that nobody practically believes in +them.’ This sentiment may accurately reflect +the opinions of a limited class, but it is an absolute +fallacy to assert that such views are generally +entertained. On the contrary, they have not to +any appreciable extent permeated the people at +large, and there is not the slightest likelihood of +their affecting the national life or changing its +standards.</p> + +<p>In closing these desultory observations upon +some of the characteristic traits of the Americans, +the writer may state that they are based upon +personal observation during a residence of several +years in the United States.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="COUSIN_GEORGE">COUSIN GEORGE.</h2></div> + + +<h3 title="CHAP. I.">IN TWO CHAPTERS.—CHAP. I.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr Nicholas Smethby</span> lived, in pretty easy +circumstances, at a town some thirty or forty +miles distant from London, from which metropolis +he had retired on leaving off business. +His profession had been, nominally, that of an +accountant; but he had seldom troubled himself +greatly about accounts, and had not received +many commissions to investigate them. He had +really been a speculator in stocks and shares, in +a small but profitable way; and while he lent +but little of his own money in loans, had made +a great deal of profit as agent, or ‘middleman,’ +between those who wished to borrow and those +who were able to lend. So Mr Smethby had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_745">{745}</span>lived in a circle in which it was necessary for +him to have his wits about him, and in which +a somewhat decided hankering for gain was likely +to be developed; yet in this he was perhaps no +worse than most of his neighbours; while, ’cute +as he was, he was not a bad sort of fellow, take +him altogether. He was pleasant and social +enough in his family circle, a pretty large one, +but reduced, as far as his own household was +concerned, to one daughter, Harriet, the other +members having married. Two of these had +settled in the neighbourhood of Valeborough, the +town referred to; while Mr Smethby had long +been a widower. He had no other relations, that +he knew of, and, as he was wont to say when +speaking on the subject, he did not want to hear +of any. His cousin, George Styles, was the last +he had had much to do with, and, ah!—Mr +Smethby would exclaim at such times as the +subject was brought up—he did not care about +any more like him.</p> + +<p>‘Twenty years ago, sir,’ he would explain, ‘he +called on me with a cock-and-bull story of his +being in trouble and wanting to get to Australia; +and I was fool enough to lend him twenty pounds. +Yes, sir, lent twenty pounds to a man I did not +care two straws for, and had seen barely a dozen +times in my life. What was the consequence? +Why, I never heard any more of him or my +twenty pounds either, and don’t know to this +day whether he went to Australia or not. I +should decidedly say <i>not</i>. That is all I know +about my relations.’</p> + +<p>It must be owned that it was at the best a +selfish kind of cheerfulness, which was derived +from the belief that he had no kith or kin out +of his own household; but Smethby was rather +a selfish man. He certainly was too fond of +talking in this strain.</p> + +<p>It happened that, towards the close of a bright +June day, Mr Smethby was at a railway station +some two or three miles from his residence. To +aid in identifying the town, we may say that +there was another line which ran through or +at least close to it; but from the station in question, +an omnibus plied to Valeborough, and it +was for this vehicle that Mr Smethby waited on +the little platform.</p> + +<p>‘We shall have a wet night, I expect,’ said a +voice in his ear.</p> + +<p>He looked round, and saw a sailor-like man, +whom he had already noticed, and who was +scanning the horizon in a sailor-like manner. +Mr Smethby made a fitting reply to this remark, +and a desultory conversation ensued. The expected +omnibus now coming into sight as it +crossed a rise in the road at some distance, +Smethby instinctively shifted his valise a little +nearer to the gate. The man good-naturedly +helped him, as he was close to the bag, and +exclaimed, as he saw the label upon it: ‘Smethby! +It is odd that I should see that name to-day, for +it is not a common one.’</p> + +<p>‘I do not think it is often met with,’ said Mr +Smethby. ‘But what is there odd in your seeing +it to-day?’</p> + +<p>‘Well, perhaps not much,’ replied the man, +with a smile; ‘but I was talking about that +name a good deal yesterday, and for weeks before.’</p> + +<p>‘Indeed! May I ask how that was?’ said his +listener.</p> + +<p>‘I have just come from Australia,’ returned +the sailor. (Mr Smethby could not help growing +suddenly attentive at this.) ‘I landed yesterday +at Gravesend, and bade good-bye to an old chum. +Ah! he was a good chum too! Five years had +I worked in the next claim to old George, as we +called him. His right name was George Styles.’</p> + +<p>‘George Styles!’ exclaimed Mr Smethby.—‘But +I must apologise for interrupting you.’</p> + +<p>‘He had done well—better than any of us,’ +continued the sailor. ‘Some folks said he was +worth a quarter of a million of money; but I +never believed that; about half the figure would +be nigher. He said he had no friends in England +he cared for now, except one Mr Smethby. That +is why the name startled me. He was always +talking about him. It was on purpose to see +him he went on to London with the ship; he +lives somewhere in the City.’</p> + +<p>‘O—h!’ said Mr Smethby. This was a long-sustained +syllable, the gentleman having a curiously +complicated rush of thought just then.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, he lives in London; and I think old +George means playing a rare trick on him,’ said +the sailor, whose smile broke into a laugh here. +‘He used to say what a game it would be to go +and pretend he was poor and broken down, so +as to see who were his real friends and who were +not. It is my belief he will do it too; and when +I go back to London, I’ll try to find him out, +to hear all about it. Ha, ha, ha!’</p> + +<p>The omnibus drew up at this moment; and +the sailor, knowing their conference must end, +touched his cap and drew back.</p> + +<p>‘A—was this George Styles really so rich? +I ask, because your story has interested me,’ +said Mr Smethby hurriedly. ‘He must be a +droll fellow!’</p> + +<p>‘Rich! Why, I’ve seen with my own eyes +the banker’s receipts for the best part of a ton +of gold of his, first and last,’ returned the sailor; +‘and that was only a part of his luck. His last +words to me were: “Bill”—my name is Bill +Brown—“Bill, as long as I live, you shall never +want a friend.” Nor I shan’t, I know.—Good-day, +sir.’</p> + +<p>Mr Smethby entered the vehicle, and had a +silent, thoughtful ride to Valeborough. The +sailor’s conversation, helter-skelter and rattle-brain +as it was, had furnished him with much +food for thought; and finding that his son was +at his house, when he arrived there—this son +was married and settled at Valeborough—he immediately +took him, with Miss Harriet, into +council. During his narrative, repeated exclamations +of astonishment broke from his hearers.</p> + +<p>‘Why, father,’ cried his daughter as he finished, +‘this must be your cousin George; and you are +the Mr Smethby he is looking for.’</p> + +<p>‘Of course I am; I saw that at once,’ replied +her father.</p> + +<p>‘But what is to be done?’ asked Mr Joe, the +son. ‘You have left London for years; he may +be looking about for you till doomsday, and be +no nearer finding you.’</p> + +<p>‘I suppose he will go to my old address. The +people there know where I am, and will send +him down,’ said Mr Smethby. ‘I expect that +is how it will be.’</p> + +<p>‘I hope so, I am sure,’ continued his son; +‘otherwise, we may lose a splendid chance.’</p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_746">{746}</span></p> +<p>Smethby could not help admitting the possibility +of this, which seemed to disturb him a +good deal, yet nothing could be done to avert it.</p> + +<p>‘We must be careful to show him every kindness,’ +said Harriet. ‘After having been away from +England so long, he will feel pleased at’——</p> + +<p>‘Leave me alone,’ interposed Smethby, with +a nod and a wink, which meant much. ‘I flatter +myself I can see my way here pretty clearly. I +only hope he comes, that is all.’</p> + +<p>Mr Smethby would have written to his successors +in London, asking them to give his address +to any inquirer; but he abstained, partly because +he felt sure they would do this in any case, but +chiefly from the danger that his request might +be mentioned to his cousin, and so show that he, +Mr Smethby, had a knowledge of his arrival in +England.</p> + +<p>No days in the lives of Mr Smethby and his +family had ever appeared so long as each of the +next two or three which followed their little +family interview. The suspense was—as the +elder gentleman pronounced it to be—‘excruciating;’ +but it came to an end in time.</p> + +<p>Mr Smethby was in his front-garden in the +afternoon, trying to occupy himself; but his mind +was busy on a subject very different from botany, +when, happening to look up from his flower-beds, +he met the eyes of a man who was watching him +over the fence, as this man stood on the footpath. +He smiled when he met the glance of Smethby, +who actually recoiled in his astonishment; for +although he had been thinking without cessation +of his cousin, yet it was like an electric shock in +its suddenness to look round and find the very +man face to face with him; for this was, must +be, he felt, George Styles. He did not know him, +had no recollection of his features; but the +bronzed, bushy-whiskered, bushy-bearded man, +dressed something like a sailor, yet not to be +mistaken for one, who smiled at him across +the garden fence, was his cousin, there could be +no doubt of that.</p> + +<p>‘Well, Nick, old fellow!’ began the stranger; +‘I see you know me, although it is many years +since we parted.’</p> + +<p>‘Why, it is George Styles!’ exclaimed Mr +Smethby, with an assumption of surprise and +‘gush’ which did him infinite credit, and of +which he felt secretly proud for a good while. +He seized the other’s hand and wrung it over +the fence with a prolonged heartiness, as though +he could not bear to relinquish it. ‘My dear +old boy, how glad I am to see you!’ he resumed, +as soon, it appeared, as his feelings would allow +him to speak. ‘Come in. How did you find +me out? But never mind that now. Come in! +I shall have a thousand things to talk about.—This +is Harriet; the only unmarried one now; +she was in arms when you went away, so I don’t +expect you to remember her.—Now, Harriet, let +us have a cup of tea; and put the best we have +in the house on the table to-day, if we never +do so again.’</p> + +<p>‘You are almost too kind, Nick,’ said the other, +and there was really a little catch in his voice as +he spoke. ‘I did not expect—indeed, I don’t +deserve such generosity. I think I had first +better run down to the <i>Railway Tap</i> and bespeak +my room there, for I hope to stay three or four +days at Valeborough.’</p> + +<p>‘Three or four days!’ exclaimed Mr Smethby; +‘bespeak a room at the <i>Railway Tap</i>! I don’t +mean to part with you, now I have found you +again, under three or four months; and if you +do not make this your home for everything, I—I—I’ll +never forgive you.’</p> + +<p>Miss Harriet, in an equally gratifying strain, +indorsed these sentiments, at which Styles was +evidently affected.</p> + +<p>‘I did not expect—could not have hoped for +this,’ he returned; ‘and seeing that I have returned +a—a poor man’—the awkward stop he +made, ere he could get this out, amused Smethby—‘it +is so kind of you. If it will not cause any +inconvenience, I will stay here a little while, +and I will do anything I can to repay your +generosity’——</p> + +<p>Here he was interrupted by the good-tempered +laughter which such an idea excited, and the +evening passed off merrily.</p> + +<p>Mr Joe and his wife looked in—by chance, as +they explained; as did Mr Brooks and his wife—formerly +Miss Susy Smethby—who came also by +chance; the result being that there was quite a +jovial party, and that Mr Styles received the +warmest invitations to become a frequent visitor +at the house of Mr Joe and at that of Mr +Brooks.</p> + +<p>After this night, too, there was unwonted pleasantry +at Mr Smethby’s, for not only his family +but some of the neighbours were constantly +dropping in, and it was wonderful what an interest +they all took in the gentleman from Australia. +The latter was very guarded—kept up his character +well, did him great credit, Mr Joe said. +But no one can avoid an occasional flaw, and one +or two were detected even in him. He was wont +to deplore the hardships which unsuccessful men +suffered in a colony—in fact, he did not like to +enter on any detail of his painful experiences—never +would do so.</p> + +<p>‘Your hardships do not seem greatly to have +injured you, George,’ his host would answer; +‘you look a good ten years younger than your age; +and many a man who has never been fifty miles +from London shows the wear and tear of toil and +worry, of which you complain so much, more +than you do.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah! but it is the future!’ Mr Styles would +say, when such a debate arose—he would say it +with a sad shake of the head—‘it is the future +which preys on my mind, what I am to do for +the rest of my life.’</p> + +<p>It was difficult for Mr Smethby, knowing so +much as he did, to listen gravely to such arguments +as these; but he was grave, and his manner +encouraged Styles to confide in him—after a +fashion.</p> + +<p>He soon showed an interest in speaking of certain +Australian investments which it appeared +some friend of his thought highly of; a shallow +ruse, not likely to deceive such a man as his +cousin. Styles further mentioned that a gold-miner +whom he knew had put ten thousand +pounds into one of these specs less than two years +before, and he could now sell out for thirty thousand +any day he chose; but he was too good a +judge to do that, as in another two years the +present value would be doubled, and then, +perhaps, he might be tempted to realise. This +same miner, as he had heard, held five or six +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_747">{747}</span>other investments, nearly all as good, and was in +expectation of hearing news which would enable +him to employ the other half of his capital, +which was now lying idle—only making a paltry +three per cent.—quite as well. All this Mr +Styles had heard from his friend.</p> + +<p>All this amused Smethby, who read his visitor +the more thoroughly in proportion as the latter +sought to envelop himself in these far-fetched +disguises. No additional proof was needed to +satisfy Smethby; but the evidence was in a +manner forced upon him to expose most completely +the absurd trick which his cousin was +attempting to play off upon him.</p> + +<p>Harriet found a letter on the floor of their +visitor’s room: it would have been expecting too +much from the feminine, or perhaps from any +temperament, to suppose she would not read it. +Its contents were so interesting, although exceedingly +brief, that she showed the note to her father. +It was from a firm in London, a stockbroker’s +evidently, referring to some inquiry from ‘George +Styles, Esq.’ as to the purchase of shares to the +amount of twenty thousand pounds, in the Bodgamaree +mines—the very speculation that Smethby +had heard his cousin refer to in their last conversation +as being in great favour with the +unnamed gold-miner! The shares were low at +present, the letter said, and could be bought at +about eighty per cent., so that a little over sixteen +thousand pounds would be sufficient.</p> + +<p>‘That settles it, then,’ said Smethby. ‘Be sure +to put the letter back where you found it, Harriet; +and mind what I told you the other day. Play +your cards properly, and I am sure you will +win.’</p> + +<p>This utterance was rather obscure; but his +daughter understood it well enough to induce her +to pout and frown a little, and to move with what +is generally described as a ‘flounce.’</p> + +<p>‘Ah! it is all very well,’ said the gentleman; +‘but you ought to know better than to dream of +allowing a quarter of a million of money to go +out of the family.—Who is Robert Crewe, I should +like to know?’</p> + +<p>This speech would have been, to a third party, +equally obscure with that which had gone before; +but as we do not wish to have any mystery, we +may explain that, almost from the first, Cousin +George had appeared much impressed by Harriet’s +good looks, and had shown her attentions which +gradually became more marked. He was five-and-twenty +years older than the girl, it was true; +but as he had himself said to Smethby, a man +ought to be a good deal older than a woman, +when they marry; and when a man had been +abroad, knocking about the world best part of +his time, he then knew what a home was, and +felt the want of a young and cheerful wife.</p> + +<p>All this Smethby had pointed out to his +daughter before; but was shocked to find—for +he really considered her a sensible, clear-headed +girl, as a rule—that a ridiculous friendship with +one Robert Crewe, a doctor’s assistant in the +town, blocked the way of this new road to +wealth and position.</p> + +<p>Robert Crewe! Smethby had not ordinary +patience with the idea. He admitted that he +had known of, and in some sort of way approved, +or, rather, had not forbidden this intimacy—it +was in this roundabout manner he now described +his conduct—and the young fellow, in his place, +might be well enough; but to compare him and +his miserable gallipot and sticking-plaster prospects, +with George Styles, was enough to put any +man out of temper. Robert Crewe, forsooth!</p> + +<p>Yet, with all this natural indignation and in +spite of this sarcasm, Miss Harriet could not +quite make up her mind to renounce the young +doctor; but it might come in time.</p> + +<p>That very night—after the discovery of the +letter, we mean—Mr Styles on his return broached +two subjects which were strongly suggestive, +especially when his hearers were behind the +scenes to a degree he did not suspect. These +hearers were only Mr Smethby and his daughter. +It was a quiet night, such as delighted Mr Styles; +he really appeared to enjoy himself pretty well +under all conditions; but he declared this evening +that a snug little family chat was sweeter +than anything else, to an old wanderer like himself. +Port, sherry, and claret were at hand; for +while Smethby was, as a rule, strictly economical, +so that wine rarely appeared at his table, his +hospitality to his cousin led him into a freer +display of such luxuries now, than of old. But +the taste of Mr Styles was simple—old-fashioned, +he said; and he drank scarcely anything but +cold brandy-and-water, to which he was remarkably +partial. It was over a glass of this innocent +beverage—always mixed half and half, at which, +even in his bloom of hospitality, Mr Smethby +winced—that he spoke of the subjects indicated. +He referred to a friend of his—it was odd how +satisfied he seemed with this shallow artifice, and +how often he resorted to it—who was about to +buy a small property near London. This property +was at Richmond—only a mere toy, a little villa, +with coachhouse and stables; a pretty conservatory, +with a couple of acres of land—that was +all. It was freehold—his friend would have +nothing else—and it commanded the prettiest +view on the river.</p> + +<p>Now, what was Miss Harriet’s opinion? Did +she prefer living in the country outright, or near +London? What did she think of his friend’s +choice? Harriet hesitated, and her colour went +and came; but Smethby spoke up for her, and +said that, like every other young girl, she would +prefer living near the great metropolis, with its +theatres, its balls, its parks and the like.—O +yes! of course. Harriet but feebly echoed this +opinion, which was repeated and enlarged on by +Smethby.</p> + +<p>Later in the evening, when the elders were +alone, Styles brought up his friend again; it +was, as before, in reference to an investment, +and Mr George said how he wished his cousin +had a little money to spare, as he knew—his +friend knew, that was—of a chance for doubling +and trebling every penny invested.</p> + +<p>Smethby, with his usual good-tempered laugh—he +was always good-tempered, when with +Styles—said that for all George knew he might +have a trifle by him. On hearing this, his cousin +expressed his pleasure, and said that his friend +was going to invest nearly twenty thousand +pounds in the spec. Such figures were beyond +Smethby, as that gentleman owned; but one, +or even two thousand, he might command. In +short, ere they parted that night, he had resolved +to remove his cash from his deposit account at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_748">{748}</span>the town bank and join this friend in his speculation.</p> + +<p>Styles was pleased to hear this; and when +Smethby said he should like to see his friend, +laughed, and confusedly said he would tell his +cousin more about him soon.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="ECONOMY_OF_FUEL">ECONOMY OF FUEL.</h2></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr Hull</span>, a celebrated geologist, has calculated +that there is still a quantity of coal in store in +England and Wales sufficient to afford a supply +of one hundred and twenty millions of tons for +about five hundred years. This would be a +cheerful estimate, if we could cordially and +unquestioningly accept it. But, unfortunately, +we cannot, other competent observers having +affirmed that the coal deposits of this country +will be exhausted in less than two hundred years. +We would, therefore, urge with all earnestness, +that the people and the government should pay +more especial attention to this vital subject than +they have hitherto done.</p> + +<p>Of course, there are two chief points on which +any interference could be effectual: these are, +the exportation of coal, and the wasteful processes +of mining now in vogue. The former of +these involves the great question of free-trade, +and the right of each coal-proprietor to sell the +produce of his land and labour at the best possible +price. The latter is even a still more difficult +thing to meddle with, and must, perhaps, +be met rather by the provisions made on the +part of landed proprietors, when leasing their +subterranean property to practical miners, than +by anything government can do. At present, +the proprietor, having a life-interest in his estate, +desires to obtain from the mines the largest +amount of the most valuable coal at the smallest +working loss. The result is, that vast quantities +of inferior but yet valuable material are left in +the pits; quantities that would do something +towards meeting the growing consumption in +this kingdom.</p> + +<p>Selfish, narrow-minded people might exclaim: +‘Oh! there will be quite enough of coal to last +us our time. We don’t expect or want to live +for ever; therefore, we won’t bother ourselves +about the economy of fuel.’</p> + +<p>Let us remind such unpatriotic mortals that +our manufacturing and commercial interests rest +upon our supplies of coal as their foundation-stone. +Our commercial rivals across the Atlantic +possess magnificent coal-fields, that are practically +of indefinite extent. Exhaust <i>our</i> coal-fields, +and their supremacy will become complete. +It behoves each and every one of us to +think of the future of our country and of the +interests of those who come after us.</p> + +<p>Perchance some cynic may say: ‘What has +posterity ever done for me? Let posterity take +care of itself.’</p> + +<p>‘Very well,’ we reply; ‘let posterity do for +itself. Let us only be influenced by selfish and +non-altruistic principles, and think only of ourselves. +The question is, how can we put money +into our own pockets by using less coal than +we do?’</p> + +<p>First, we can do so by using proper grates. +Down to the time of Count Rumford, the modern +world of coal-burners never thought of the true +theory of caloric in connection with grates. +Burners of wood had not tried to be economical; +they did not expect to be warm on more than +one side. When their bodies were scorched and +their eyes smarted, they had what they bargained +for. Rumford appeared as a new teacher; he +laid down the principles of heat and combustion +with admirable clearness, and flooded England +with grates of his favourite type. But in spite +of the teachings of the Count, coal-fires of to-day +are as dirty, chilly, and as wasteful as ever.</p> + +<p>The waste of coal in Britain is positively disgraceful. +One hundred and twenty millions of +tons are consumed every year. Of this, one half +might be saved by the adoption of improved +appliances. About thirty million pounds sterling +might thus be kept in our banks, instead of +being turned into cinders and smoke. The pall +of smoke and fog that broods over London contains +in a single day fifty tons of coal! The +fact is that we burn coal in house-fires on an +entirely false principle—that is, on the principle +of a blast-furnace, letting cold air pass through +the centre of the fire, to blaze the coal rapidly +away, and hurry the heat and half-burnt gases +unused up the chimney. We have to go back +to the good old principle of the embers on the +earth, when the hearth was, as it is at the present +day in many Irish cottages, a true ‘focus,’ a centre +of accumulated heat. We must, then, return to +truer lines, and make our fireplace again a ‘focus’ +or ‘well’ of stored heat, into which we put our +fuel, first to be distilled into gas, which, rising +at a high temperature from its hot bed, meets +the air gliding towards the chimney, and bursts +into flame, communicating heat to the firebrick +back and to the room. Then, when all the gases +have been burnt off, the red-hot coke remains, +and burns away in the bottom of the grate at +a slow rate, yet radiating abundant heat into the +room.</p> + +<p>This desirable end is gained by using Mr Teale’s +‘Economiser.’ The ‘Coal Economiser’ is simply +a shield of sheet-iron which stands on the hearth, +and rises as high as the lowest bar of the grate, +against which it should fit accurately, so as to +shut in the space under the fire. Any ordinary +blacksmith can make the ‘Economiser.’ It is +applicable to any range, whether in the cottages +of the poor or the mansions of the rich. Those +who wish for greater elegance can have it made +of steel or brass. Its chief purpose is to cut off +the under current, and to keep the chamber under +the fire hot.</p> + +<p>Count Rumford affirmed that seven-eighths of +the heat was carried up the chimney. Heat is +wasted in three ways: by combustion under the +influence of a strong draught; by imperfect combustion; +by the escape of heat through the sides +and the back of the fireplace. By using the +‘Economiser’ all this is altered. If there is +plenty of heat round the fuel, then but little +oxygen will do. But burn coal with a chilling +jacket, and it needs a fierce draught of oxygen +to sustain it. High temperature does not imply +complete combustion, for in making gas, coke is +left. When the ‘Economiser’ is applied, the +fire burns with an orange colour, for the stream +of oxygen is slow and steady, and the coal undergoes +complete combustion; consequently, there +is an entire absence of cinders, and only a little +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_749">{749}</span>fine snuff-like powder falls into the ‘economised’ +chamber. Smoke is also conspicuous by its +absence.</p> + +<p>In a recent lecture delivered at the Royal +Institution, Mr Teale mentioned several additional +points about the structure of fireplaces, +which tend to the saving of fuel. (1) As much +firebrick and as little iron as possible should be +used. Iron absorbs the heat, and chiefly in +directions in which the heat is least wanted. +Firebrick retains and accumulates heat. (2) The +back of the fireplace should lean or arch over +the fire, so as to become heated by the rising +flame. The heated back sends forth abundant +radiant heat into the room. ‘Milner’s’ back is +a capital arrangement; so is the Nelson ‘Rifle’ +back. (3) The bottom of the grating should be +deep from before backwards. (4) The slits in +the grating should be narrow; this prevents +small cinders from falling through. (5) The +bars in front should be narrow.</p> + +<p>If the foregoing instructions are attended to, +there will be an enormous saving of fuel. Soot +and smoke will be diminished, and there will +be no half-burnt cinders.</p> + +<p>The late Sir William Siemens was an ardent +advocate for the use of gas as a heating agent. +At the British Association of 1882, he said: ‘The +time is not far distant when both rich and poor +will largely resort to gas, the most convenient, +the cleanest, and cheapest of heating agents, and +when raw coal will only be seen at the colliery +or gasworks. In all cases where the town to +be supplied is within, say, thirty miles of the +colliery, the gasworks may with advantage be +placed at the mouth, or, still better, at the bottom +of the pit, whereby all haulage of fuel would +be avoided, and the gas in its ascent from the +bottom of the colliery would acquire an onward +pressure sufficient, probably, to impel it to its +destination.’ No doubt, if this scheme could be +realised, we would all be deeply indebted to the +great man who first suggested it. More than +one half of the coal now consumed would be +saved by its adoption. At present, we must be +content with the old order of things.</p> + +<p>It is astonishing, however, that so few people +employ gas instead of coal as a cooking agent, +especially in summer. It secures an immense +saving of labour, not to speak of its superiority +over coal in respect to coolness. In the +hot summer days, cooking with a coal-fire in +an ordinary range is a tremendous trial to +the poor cook. The kitchen is like an oven. +What a difference if gas is used! The moment +it is no longer required it can be turned off, +and the temperature of the kitchen is soon +lowered. By using a gas-stove, no coal is required +during the summer. It is less expensive +than coal. Of course, care must be taken to have +it turned off directly it is no longer required, +and a proper economy exercised in its use. Mr +Fletcher, of Warrington, a high authority on +gas for cooking and heating purposes, says: ‘The +cost of gas, even if wastefully used, must be considered +not only as regards the saving of coal, +but also, what is far greater, the saving in weight +of meat roasted, which is considerable, and the +reduced wear and tear, waste, dirt, and consequent +labour. Taken altogether as affecting the +total housekeeping expenses, gas is cheaper than +coal for cooking at any price not exceeding twelve +or fourteen shillings per thousand cubic feet; +coal being, say, twelve to fourteen shillings per +ton.’ The majority of people, however, pay very +much less for their gas, and more for coal; in +which case, gas will be much cheaper than +coal.</p> + +<p>Asbestos heated by gas makes a suitable fire. +It is cleanly, quiet, free from dust, and convenient; +and it can be turned on or extinguished +in an instant.</p> + +<p>Enough has been written to show that economy +of fuel is not merely theoretical and +fanciful, but that it is practicable and worthy +of earnest attention.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_SIGN_OF_THE_RED_INDIAN">THE SIGN OF THE <i>RED INDIAN</i>.</h2></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Just</span> on the outskirts of the seaport and garrison +town of Chubleigh, in the south-west of England, +stands a little old-fashioned hostelry called the +<i>Red Indian</i>. How it came by its name is involved +in obscurity. The antiquity of the inn is undoubted, +and a tradition is current in the +district, that during the unfortunate Monmouth’s +rebellion it was used as the temporary head-quarters +of Colonel Kirke. In its back-garden, +a wooden seat is still shown to visitors on which +that bloodthirsty officer, surrounded by his +‘lambs,’ is alleged to have sat in judgment, and +thence ruthlessly consigned to the gallows scores +of the unoffending rustics of the locality. From +time immemorial, the <i>Red Indian</i> has been in +the hands of a family named Slade. The present +proprietor, though, generally speaking, as +deliberate in manner as John Willet, is yet +apt to be garrulously communicative in talking +of his inn and its interesting historical associations. +Above the rustic porch over the door +there is fixed a large, rudely carved, wooden +figure of a savage holding in its hand a tomahawk. +The Indian’s nose was long ago knocked +off by a well-directed stone thrown by some mischievous +urchin; his original coat of paint has +peeled off, and large cracks are visible, which run +the whole length of the figure. Altogether, this +Indian is as disreputable-looking a sign as a +traveller might perceive throughout the length +and breadth of England. Nevertheless, it is in +connection with this dilapidated timber savage +that the writer obtained, from the landlord of +the <i>Red Indian</i>, materials for the following +story.</p> + +<p>When the present century was in its infancy, +the son of the then proprietor, and grand-uncle +of the present landlord, was engaged in the +capacity of boatswain of a privateer, which had +been fitted out with the object of preying on +the French merchant service. In the Mediterranean, +the privateer captured a large vessel, +which in part was laden with the product of the +labours of a Parisian curiosity-hunter, who had +been despoiling ancient Grecian temples, with the +object of supplying the virtuosi of the French +metropolis with antique sculptures and bronzes, +and thereby securing a large profit to himself. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_750">{750}</span>The privateersmen were greatly disappointed at +not finding specie, and what they considered +marketable merchandise, on board the Frenchman, +and attached but little value to the battered +though priceless bas-reliefs and statues. Boatswain +Slade took a great fancy to a life-sized +bronze gladiator, which he considered would +prove an acceptable addition to the attractions +of the back-garden of his father’s inn, and +managed, for a few shillings, to effect its purchase +from the captain.</p> + +<p>Shortly after the glorious victory of Trafalgar, +the privateer was paid off at Chubleigh; and +the boatswain conveyed the statue on shore to +his father’s inn. The gladiator was placed on +a brick pedestal, flanked on either side by two +rusty carronades; and the bareness of the surroundings +was relieved by the artistic disposal +of a number of huge shells which the boatswain +had brought from ‘foreign parts.’ The host of +the <i>Red Indian</i>, however, was soon struck by the +idea of making the figure a sign for his hostelry. +He had but little sentimental regard for the rich +green mould of antiquity, so, with execrable +vandalism, carefully scraped it off the statue, +and had the gladiator painted a bright scarlet +by a local artist, who took payment for his work +in the old ale for which the hostelry was famous. +This operation performed, the metamorphosed +gladiator was removed to a prominent position +in front of the inn door, and for years did duty +as a Red Indian. Its brilliant appearance was a +perpetual source of gratification and delight to +the host and his numerous customers; while +inquiring strangers were proudly informed that +it had been captured from the frog-eaters. Once +a year the extemporised Indian received a fresh +coat of paint; and save when its head was decorated +at times with a disused tin pail or an old +hat by some facetious individuals, it was not +otherwise interfered with.</p> + +<p>At the close of the year 1815, Chubleigh was +<i>en fête</i> in connection with the disembarkation of +the 31st Regiment of Light Dragoons, which +during that year had performed doughty service +at Waterloo, and which had just returned from +the occupation of Paris. The piping times of +peace had again returned, and, naturally enough, +the officers and men who had assisted to destroy +the power of the once dreaded ‘Boney’ were the +objects of popular pride and enthusiasm among +the inhabitants of the town. When the regiment +settled down in quarters, invitations to the houses +of the principal townsmen were showered on the +officers, and each vied with the other to entertain +these heroes of Waterloo.</p> + +<p>The younger officers, several of whom had +left school to join their regiment in Belgium, +gave themselves prodigious airs; but no one +considered himself of so much importance as +a raw young Connaught-man, a cornet named +Mike Macnamara. Mike, a warrior of about +nine months’ service, created great amusement +both in the officers’ mess and in the houses to +which he was invited by boasting about the +number of Frenchmen whom he had placed +<i>hors de combat</i> in the late short but eventful +campaign. His bounce together with his extreme +simplicity rendered him the butt of his brother-officers, +and he was in consequence the victim +of numerous practical jokes. In these days, +and for many years subsequently, rough horseplay +and the perpetration of the most uncomfortable +imaginable practical jokes were characteristic +of the spirited gentlemen who officered +the regiments of British cavalry. Those of our +readers who took the trouble, some years ago, +to wade through the evidence at the Tichborne +trial, will remember the description of the ruthless +tricks played on the simple undoubted Roger +by his brother-carabineers. At the present day, +military practical joking is somewhat out of +fashion, and any games that may be played are +curtailed of their former disagreeable proportions, +and have assumed a comparatively mild character.</p> + +<p>Cornet Macnamara’s room was the favourite +arena for a display of the ingenious tricks of his +facetiously inclined brother-officers. Thistles and +dead cats were placed between his sheets; trapfuls +of live rats were let loose in the apartment; +the nuts of his iron bedstead were unscrewed, +so that when the poor fellow turned in, the +framework of the couch tumbled to pieces and +landed the mattress on the floor, while at the +same time he was douched by a tub of water +from the shelf above, which was fastened with +cord to the mattress, and upset simultaneously +with the collapse of the bed. On such occasions +Mike was naturally wroth, and expressed himself +as anxious to call out the offenders; but +despite his utmost vigilance and caution, he could +never capture his tormentors.</p> + +<p>Late one evening, a party of revellers from +barracks were passing the <i>Red Indian</i>, when +they espied the vermilioned gladiator. Nothing +would satisfy them but to feloniously remove +the statue and return with it to quarters—a +work of considerable difficulty, as the figure +was heavy. Arrived thither with their load, +some one suggested that it should be placed in +Cornet Macnamara’s room; and this idea was +hailed with general enthusiasm. A scout was +despatched to the messroom, in order to keep +watch on Mike’s movements, and give the alarm +in case he should appear on the scene. With +great labour the gladiator was hoisted to the +top of the staircase of the officer’s house; and +Mike’s room door having been forced open, the +jokers placed the statue in front of his dressing-table, +on the top of an inverted iron coal-box. +The staircase at the time was in process of being +whitewashed, so the officers obtained possession +of a tub of the mixture, and smeared the ‘Red +Indian’ a dirty white; then taking the sheets +from Mike’s bed, they hung them about the +figure, turning it into a respectable-looking ghost. +Afterwards, the officers dropped one by one into +the messroom, and joined a group who were +listening with great amusement to a new-fangled +story which was being retailed by Macnamara +regarding his prowess at Waterloo.</p> + +<p>Mike, after clapping an additional two Frenchmen +to the previous grand total of the number +who had fallen by his sword, as narrated in +his tale of the previous night, left the messroom +in order to proceed to his quarters, whither, +in a minute or two, he was stealthily followed +by the whole of the officers, who anticipated +great fun from the consternation of their victim +when beholding the ghastly apparition in his bedroom. +Mike gaily entered the apartment, singing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_751">{751}</span>a love ditty of his native land, and began to +fumble for his tinder-box. After several attempts, +he at last managed to light his candle, and of +course at once perceived the ghost. The cornet +was filled with the superstitious notions of a +certain section of his countrymen, and started +back nearly overcome with terror. ‘Ye saints +in glory! what’s that?’ he cried; then leaving +the room, he plunged madly down the staircase, +and rushed yelling across the parade ground in +the direction of the messroom. In his headlong +progress, poor Mike did not observe a party +of two ladies and a gentleman, who happened +to be the colonel, accompanied by his wife and +daughter, who had just returned from a dinner-party. +Mike ran full tilt against his commanding +officer, and knocked him into a puddle in the +barrack square. The ladies screamed loudly; +and the colonel, with many objurgations, got on +his feet and confronted his assailant.</p> + +<p>‘You—Cornet Macnamara!’ he angrily exclaimed. +‘What do you mean, sir, rushing about +like a madman at this time of night? Consider +yourself under arrest, sir.’</p> + +<p>‘Faith, colonel,’ answered the unfortunate +Mike, ‘I am very sorry, sorr, but I did not +percaive ye. But, sorr, I wint up to me room +just now, and as I hope for salvation, I found +the divil in it, wid a big white shate wrapped +round him!’</p> + +<p>The irate colonel at once surmised that another +trick had been played on his subordinate; so +he sent the ladies home to quarters, and then +called loudly for the sergeant of the guard with +a file of men.</p> + +<p>When this detachment of the guard appeared +on the scene, the colonel ordered them to follow +him to Macnamara’s room, where, by the light +of the sergeant’s lantern, he showed the trembling +cornet that there was nothing supernatural in the +character of the figure that had frightened him +so much. He then, under the circumstances, +relieved Mike from arrest and proceeded home.</p> + +<p>Mike waited until the commanding officer and +the men of the guard were clear of the staircase, +and then slid the gladiator off the coal-box. +He edged the statue to the top of the +stair, and by main strength toppled it over the +banister; and an instant later, with a loud crash, +the gladiator was smashed into fragments on the +flagstones of the lobby, four stories beneath.</p> + +<p>It is needless to say that there was great +anger and consternation in the breast of the +worthy host of the <i>Red Indian</i> when, next +morning, he awoke and found that his cherished +statue had mysteriously disappeared. It was +not long, however, before he obtained a clew to +its whereabouts, as a customer informed him +that late the previous night he ‘met a lot +of milingtary chaps carrying summut’ in the +direction of the barracks. This ‘summut’ Mr +Slade shrewdly conjectured was his ‘Red Indian;’ +and he at once wrote to the regimental quarters +to make inquiries into the matter.</p> + +<p>When the poor landlord discovered the gladiator +in its fragmentary state, he became most angry +and abusive; but was somewhat consoled when +an emissary from the mess informed him that +the officers would make good the damage, and +requested him to inform them by letter next +day the price at which he valued his statue. The +landlord then procured the services of a passing +cart and had the pieces removed to the inn. +After a long consultation with his wife, he +decided to assess the damage at ten guineas; +and by way of making the most of the business, +communicated with a marine store-dealer in +town, intending to sell the smashed gladiator as +old metal.</p> + +<p>The colonel made the most strenuous though +unavailing efforts to discover the practical jokers, +and roundly abused the whole of the mess for +their treatment of poor Mike; but after a while, +the affair passed off in a general laugh.</p> + +<p>Affairs, however, were speedily fated to take +a turn which caused the implicated parties to +laugh the other way. A large vessel arrived in +the port of Chubleigh from Alexandria, which +had among her passengers a celebrated London +virtuoso, who, some months before, had been +induced to pay a visit to Egypt by reason of +the excitement produced in antiquarian circles +by the discoveries of the celebrated Belzoni. +This gentleman was posting to London when his +chaise broke down opposite the <i>Red Indian</i>, and +he entered the hostelry while the vehicle was +being repaired. After partaking of a little +refreshment, he took a walk in the garden, and +his eye caught the fragments of the gladiator, +which had been shot in a corner while waiting +the arrival of the marine store-dealer’s cart. +Having elicited the story of the statue from +the host, the antiquary submitted the pieces to +a most careful examination; and despite the +whitewash and coats of paint with which the +figure had been adorned, he recognised it as +a specimen of the work of the renowned ancient +Greek sculptor Lysippus; and in answer to +the excited inquiry of the astonished landlord, +appraised its value at six hundred pounds!</p> + +<p>Having, at the host’s urgent request, given a +written opinion on the matter, the virtuoso +departed on his journey, and then Mr Slade +hurried with his certificate to a Chubleigh +attorney, in whose hands he placed the matter, +with instructions to leave no stone unturned to +recover the full amount from the officers.</p> + +<p>Words could scarcely express the chagrin of +the purloiners of the gladiator, when the colonel +of the 31st Light Dragoons read at mess the +contents of the letter he received from the legal +adviser of the landlord of the <i>Red Indian</i>. The +commanding officer further significantly hinted +that the implicated parties would have to uphold +their reputation as officers and gentlemen by +paying the amount demanded, or run the risk +of being cashiered.</p> + +<p>At first, the jokers were inclined to dispute +the claim, and invited the opinion of an expert; +but that authority, when he had inspected the +figure, corroborated the London man’s decision, +with a further assurance that the statue was +cheap at the money.</p> + +<p>Cornet Macnamara, with reasonable show of +justification, stoutly declined to pay a farthing of +the six hundred pounds. It was, however, with +a very bad grace, indeed, that the sum was subscribed +by the interested parties; and served as +a valuable lesson to them to modify for the future +their spirit of mischief.</p> + +<p>When Mike discovered the identity of his tormentors, +he sent a challenge to each, and an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_752">{752}</span>arrangement was come to by which a representative +was selected by ballot to meet the Irishman. +The old trick of leadless pistols was +resorted to; the combatants fired three shots +at each other without any perceptible result, and +then the seconds interfered, and declared honour +satisfied.</p> + +<p>A Jew purchased the fragments of the gladiator +from the officers for a few guineas; but the wily +Israelite well knew that a genuine Lysippus is +almost as valuable broken as whole. He had +the pieces skilfully rejoined, and disposed of the +statue to a local virtuoso for a large sum, +who in turn bequeathed it to the Chubleigh +Museum.</p> + +<p>With part of the money the lucky landlord +of the <i>Red Indian</i> received for his gladiator, he +invested in a wooden figure, which did duty for +a sign equally well, and which he placed above +the porch out of the reach of predatory officers, +and where, as has been mentioned, it still stands, +battered, cracked, and mouldy.</p> + +<p>Shortly after the episode of the gladiator, the +31st Light Dragoons were hurriedly despatched +to Lancashire, in order to quell the bread riots +which had broken out in that county; and the +actors in the comedy just narrated were heard +of no more by the good folks of Chubleigh.</p> + +<p>A little more remains to be told of the statue +by Lysippus. We must come down to 1851, the +year in which the Great Exhibition was held in +Hyde Park. A middle-aged Frenchman landed +at Chubleigh from Havre on his way to London, +and while taking a walk about the town, entered +the <i>Red Indian</i>. The landlord, who had profited +so handsomely by his statue, had years before +gone to his rest, and his son the ex-boatswain, +then an aged man, reigned in his stead. The +Frenchman was interested in learning that his +host had taken a share in the old war, and after +a time, he had narrated to him the whole history +of the statue.</p> + +<p>‘Vat vas de name of de vessel you took?’ he +eagerly asked.</p> + +<p>‘The <i>Hercules</i>, sir.’</p> + +<p>To the landlord’s astonishment, Monsieur leant +back in his chair and indulged in a fit of uncontrollable +laughter, and recovering himself, asked +to be directed to the Museum. Having reached +that establishment, he was not long in picking +out the Lysippus, of which the learned in Chubleigh +were so proud. The Frenchman put on his +glasses and examined the gladiator’s toe-nail, and +then gave vent to another guffaw, which speedily +brought round him the officials of the establishment. +He asked to see the secretary; and when +introduced to the presence of that functionary, +exclaimed: ‘Begar, sir, dat gladiateur is no more +a Lysippus dan I am de Czar Nicholas of all +de Russias. My oncle, who die ven I vas a +leetle boy, keep vat you call a foundree in Athens, +and have casts, or <i>replicas</i> you call dem, made +of all de antiques. He den put dem down a +sewer until dey get a green magnifique; dey +look like de real article; and he make heaps of +money by selling dem as such in Paris. Your +gladiateur is one of dem!’</p> + +<p>‘But, my dear sir,’ asked the astounded secretary, +‘how are you going to substantiate your +statement?’</p> + +<p>‘Come wit me,’ said the Frenchman; and the +twain proceeded to the statue. ‘My oncle,’ resumed +the Frenchman, ‘deal in de antique, as I +have told you; and in case he himself be cheated +wit his own spurious statues, he have a private +mark. Here is dis mark—a leetle hole drilled +under dis toe-nail!’</p> + +<p>The secretary communicated the purport of +Monsieur’s statement to the Museum directors; +experts were called who substantiated the Frenchman’s +assertion that the work was spurious, and +was no more the production of Lysippus than +an Italian moulder’s plaster-cast of Venus is +the work of Phidias. In disgust, the directors +ordered the statue to be transferred to the lumber-room +of the establishment, and its description, +‘Gladiator, by Lysippus, <span class="allsmcap">B.C.</span> about 324; bequeathed +by the late ——, Esq.,’ disappeared from +the Museum catalogue.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak smalltext" id="ANOTHER_SHIP-CANAL">ANOTHER ‘SHIP-CANAL.’</h2></div> + + +<p>Another has been proposed, although the idea +is not new, but seems to have been an old idea +revived, and that is, to cut a canal from the sea +to Birkenhead Docks across the low flat country +lying between the outfalls of the Dee and Mersey, +and thus getting a wide passage which will +enable ships to avoid the bar of the Mersey. +Elaborate plans have been prepared by an eminent +engineer; and as the whole scheme seems feasible, +and as money for great schemes seems to be +readily forthcoming in this wealth-producing +country, there can be no reason why the ‘ship-canal +of Birkenhead’ should not be carried out +as well as the ‘ship-canal of Manchester.’ It +would have a great and reviving effect on the +town of Birkenhead, which by this means may +one day become an important commercial city, a +rival to, instead of a mere suburb of, her +wealthy sister on the opposite Lancastrian shore; +and the expectations of half a century ago of a +grand city, with magnificent streets, and squares, +and splendid commercial docks, may even yet be +realised.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="THIS_IS_ALL">THIS IS ALL.</h2></div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Just a saunter in the twilight,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a whisper in the hall,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a sail on sea or river,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a dance at rout or ball,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a glance that hearts enthral—</div> +<div class="verse indent0">This is all—and this is all.</div></div> + +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Just a few harsh words of doubting,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a silence proud and cold,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a spiteful breath of slander,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a wrong that is not told,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a word beyond recall—</div> +<div class="verse indent0">This is all—and this is all.</div></div> + +<div class="stanza"><div class="verse indent0">Just a life robbed of its brightness,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a heart by sorrow filled,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a faith that trusts no longer,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a love by doubting chilled,</div> +<div class="verse indent0">Just a few hot tears that fall—</div> +<div class="verse indent0">This is all—ah! this is all.</div> +<div class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Rosie Churchill.</span></div></div> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full"> + +<p class="center">Printed and Published by <span class="smcap">W. & 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> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75692 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75692-h/images/cover.jpg b/75692-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..681e0f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/75692-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75692-h/images/header.jpg b/75692-h/images/header.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7892f08 --- /dev/null +++ b/75692-h/images/header.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5dba15 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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