FEINBERG/WHITMAN LITERARY FILE POETRY FILE "Fancies at Navesink" (Aug. 1885). Nineteenth Century. Printed Copy. Box 27 Folder 1THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. A MONTHLY REVIEW EDITED BY JAMES KNOWLES. NO. 102, AUGUST 1885. PAGE I. 'The Metaphysical Society' : a Reminiscence. (With a Note by the Editor.) By R. H. HUTTON . . . . . . . . . . . 177 II. A Defence of Deer Forests. By CAMERON OF LOCHIEL, M.P. . . 197 III. Aristocracy in America. By MATTHEW M. TRUMBULL.. . . . 209 IV. Violins. By WILLIAM HUGGINS. . . . . . . . . . 218 V. Fancies at Navesink. By WALT WHITMAN. . . . . . . 234 VI. The Burden of Ireland. By J. LESLIE FIELD . . . . . . . 238 VII. A Jesuit Reformer and Poet. By the Rev. FATHER RYDER . . . 249 VIII. County Characteristics : Surrey. By H. G. HEWLETT . . . . 274 IX. The Work of Victor Hugo. (Concluded.) By ALGERNON C. SWINBURNE X. The Recent Rebellion in North-West Canada. (With a Map.) By 294 LORD MELGUND, Military Secretary to the Governor-General 312 XI. The London Flower Trade. By EDWARD A. ARNOLD . . . . 328 XII. Anti-Cholera Inoculation. By Dr. CAMERON, M.P. . . . . . 338 KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., LONDON. PARIS: LIBRAIRIE GALIGNANI, 224 RUE DE RIVOLI. AGENTS FOR AMERICA : THE INTERNATIONAL NEWS COMPANY, NEW YORK. 1885. Price Half-a-Crown. All rights reserved.ESTABLISHED 1746. JOHN MORTLOCK & CO, OXFORD ST. AND ORCHARD ST., PORTMAN SQUARE, LONDON, W. The Largest Collection of Dinner and Luncheon Sets in London. PRICES FROM 21S. TWENTY-ONE PRIZE MEDALS AWARDED. Fry's Cocoa GUARANTEED PURE. EXTRACT 'There is no nicer or more wholesome preparation of Cocoa.' --Dr. Hassall. HEAL & SON. [Left Column] BEDSTEADS. --3 ft. IRON FRENCH, from 10s. 6d. 3 ft. BRASS FRENCH, from 48s. BEDDING. --MATTRESSES, 3 ft., from 11s. A NEW SPRING MATTRESS, warranted good and serviceable, 8 ft., 28s.; 4 ft. 6in., 40s. HEAL'S PATENT SOMMIER ELASTIQUE PORTATIF, of which 30,000 have been sold, is the best Spring Mattress yet invented. 3 ft., 40s ; 5 ft., 63s. This, with a French Mattress, makes a most luxurious bed. [Right Column] BEDROOM FURNITURE.--PLAIN SUITES, from (3 pounds). DECORATED SUITES, from (8 pounds). 10s. SUITES OF WHITE ENAMEL, similar to that in the Health Exhibition, from (14 pounds). ASH AND WALNUT SUITES, from (12 pounds)s. 12s. SCREENS, suitable for Bedrooms, 21s. EASY CHAIRS, from 35s. COUCHES, from 75s. ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE, with PRICE LIST OF BEDDING, FREE BY POST. 195 to 198 TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD. The Nineteenth Century Advertiser, August 1885. ADVERTISEMENTS SHOULD BE SENT TO HART'S ADVERTISING OFFICES, 33 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. BILLS FOR INSERTION SHOULD BE DELIVERED TO THE PRINTERS, MESSRS. SPOOTISWOODE & CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE, BY THE 25TH OF THE MONTH. SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. [Left Column] LOW'S STANDARD LIBRARY OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. Crown 8vo. bound uniformly in cloth extra, price 7s. 6d., except where price is given. The Great Lone Land. By Major W. F. Butler, C B. The Wild North Land. By Major W. F. Butler, C.B. How I Found Livingstone. By H. M. Stanley. Through the Dark Continent. By H. M. Stanley. 12s. 6d. The Threshold of the Unknown Region. By C. R. Markham. (Fourth Edition, with Additional Chapters, 10s. 6d.) Cruise of the Challenger. By W. J. J. Spry, R.N. Burnaby's 'On Horseback through Asia Minor.' 10s. 6d. Schweinfurth's 'Heart of Africa.' 2 vols. 15s. Marshall's 'Through America.' Landsell's 'Through Siberia.' Illustrated and Unabridged. 10s. 6d. Wanderings in a Wild Country. By Wilfred Powell. 5s. GREAT MUSICIANS. Edited by Francis Hueffer. A Series of Biographies. Crown 8vo. cloth, uniform, 3s. each. Bach, English Church Composers, Handel, Haydn, Mendelssohn, Mozart, Purcell, Rossini, Schubert, Schumann, Richard Wagner, Weber. 'In these dainty little volumes, under the able superintendence of Mr. Hueffer, musical authorities of note describe the lives and criticise the masterpieces of "The Great Musicians," conveying just such information as is most required, and thereby satisfying a desire which has lately been making itself more and more felt.... We look forward with no slight interest to the publication of the other volumes of this series of small but valuable books.' The Times [Right Column] FOREIGN COUNTRIES AND BRITISH COLONIES. A Series of Descriptive Handbooks. Each volume is the work of a writer who has special acquaintance with the suspect. Crown 8vo. cloth uniform, 3s. 6d. each. Austrailia. By J. F. Vesey Fitzgerald. Austria. By D. Kay, F.R.G.S. Denmark and Iceland. By E. C. Otte. Egypt. By S. Lane Poole, B.A. France. By Miss M. Roberts. Germany. By S. Baring-Gould. Greece. By L. Sergeant, B.A. Japan. By S. Mossman Peru. By Clements R. Markham, C.B. Russia. By W. R. Morfill, M.A. Spain. By Rev. Wentworth Webster. Sweden and Norway. By F. H. Woods. West Indies. By C. H. Eden, F.R.G.S. CHOICE EDITIONS OF CHOICE BOOKS. Royal 16mo. cloth gilt, gilt edges, price 2s. 6d. each. Illustrated by C. W. Cope, R.A., E. Duncan, Birket Foster, J. C. Horsley, A.R.A., G. Hicks, R. Redgrave, R.A., C. Stonehouse, F. Tayler, G. Thomas, H. J. Townshend, E. H. Wehnert, Harrison Weir, &c. Bloomfield's 'Farmer's Boy.' Campbell's 'Pleasures of Hope.' Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner.' Goldsmith's 'Deserted Village.' Gray's 'Elegy in a Churchyard.' Keats's 'Eve of St. Agnes.' Milton's 'L'Allgero.' Poetry of Nature. Harrison Weir. Rogers's (Sam.) 'Pleasures of Memory.' Shakespeare's Songs and Sonnets. Tennyson's 'May Queen' Elizabethan Poets. Wordsworth's Pastoral Poems. LOW'S STANDARD SIX-SHILLING NOVELS. In small post 8vo. uniform, red cloth, bevelled boards, price 6s. each, unless where otherwise stated. By R. D. BLACKMORE. Lorna Doone. Also an Illustrated Edition, 31s. 6d. and 35s. Alice Lorraine. Cradock Nowell. Clara Vaughan. Cripps the Carrier. Erma ; or, My Father's Sin. Mary Anerly. Cristowell, a Dartmoor Tale. Tommy Upmore. By WILLIAM BLACK. Three Feathers. A Daughter of Heth. Kilmeny. In Silk Attire. Lady Silverdale's Sweetheart. Sunrise. By THOMAS HARDY. The Trumpet Major. Far from the Madding Crowd. The Hand of Ethelberta. A Laodicean. Two on a Tower. A Pair of Blue Eyes. The Return of the Native. By GEORGE MACDONALD. Mary Marston. Guild Court. The Vicar's Daughter. Adela Cathcart. Stephen Archer. Weighed and Wanting. Orts. By W. CLARK RUSSELL. Wreck of the 'Grosvenor.' John Holdsworth (Chief Mate). A Sailor's Sweetheart. The 'Lady Maud.' By MRS. J. H. RIDDELL. Daisies and Buttercups: a Novel of the Upper Thames. The Senior Partner. Alaric Spenceley. A Struggle for Fame. By MRS. BEECHER STOWE. My Wife and I. Old Town Folk. We and our Neighbors. By MRS. CASHEL HOEY. A Golden Sorrow. New Edition. Out of Court. By MRS. MACQUOID. Eleanor Dryden. | Diane. By MISS COLERIDGE An English Squire By the REV. E GILLIAT, M.A. A Story of the Dragonnades. By J. HATTON. Three Recruits and the Girls They Left Behind Them. By C. F. WOOLSON. Anne. | For the Major. Price 5s. London : SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON, Crown Buildings, 188 Fleet Street, E.C. ii THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, & CO.'S LIST. NOW READY AT ALL BOOKSELLERS' AND LIBRARIES. With Portrait, 2 Maps, and 30 Illustrations, after Sketches by General GORDON, Demy 8vo. cloth, 21s. GENERAL GORDON'S JOURNALS AT KARTOUM. Printed from the Original MSS. With Introduction and Notes by A. EGMONT HAKE. Fourth Edition, now ready at all Libraries, in 3 vols. COLONEL ENDERBY'S WIFE. A Novel. By LUCAS MALET. Third and Cheaper Edition, large crown 8vo. cloth, 6s. AUTUMNAL LEAVES. By FRANCIS GEORGE HEATH, Author of 'Sylvan Spring,' 'The Fern Portfolio,' &c. With 12 Coloured Plates and numerous Wood Engravings. Demy 8vo. cloth, 12s. AN ANGLO-INDIAN DICTIONARY: a Glossary of Indian Terms used in English, and of such English and other Non-Indian Terms as have obtained special meanings in India. By GEORGE CLIFFORD WHITWORTH, Bombay Civil Service, Fellow of the University of Bombay. Crown 8vo. cloth, 5s. SUAKIN, 1885; being a Sketch of the Campaign of this year. By an OFFICER who was there. 'A simple record of the events which made up a war of peculiar privations and dangers, due to the climate we toiled in and the foe we fought against. Every statement made may be taken as fact, and the experiences are those of one who took part in the campaign.'—PREFACE. Second Edition, large crown 8vo. cloth, 7s. 6d. OLD WORLD QUESTIONS AND NEW WORLD ANSWERS. By DANIEL PIDGEON, F.G.S., Assoc. Inst. C.E., Author of 'An Engineer's Holiday.' Crown 8vo. printed on hand-made paper, 5s. NUMANTIA: a Tragedy. By MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA. Translated from the Spanish, with Introduction and Notes, by JAMES Y. GIBSON, Translator of the 'Journey to Parnassus.' Small crown 8vo. 8vo. cloth, 5s. LINDENBLUMEN, and other Stories. By ROWLAND GREY, Author of 'In Sunny Switzerland' &c. Small crown 8vo. cloth, 3s. 6d. BURLEY BELLS. By CONSTANCE MARY OBBARD. Demy 8vo. cloth, 2s. 6d. DISCOURSE ON THE SHEDDING OF BLOOD AND THE LAWS OF WAR. Small crown 8vo. cloth, 2s. 'THEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN TOGETHER TILL THE LAST.' An Essay on Marriage and the Position of Women in England. Now ready, price Sixpence. THE UNEARNED INCREMENT. Observations on Ricardo's Theory of Rent. By CHARLES H. TODD, LL.D. London: 1 PATERNOSTER SQUARE. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. iii MESSRS. MACMILLAN & CO.'S NEW BOOKS. A NEW NOVEL BY THE LATE HUGH CONWAY. A FAMILY AFFAIR. By HUGH CONWAY, Author of 'Called Back,' 'Dark Days,' &c. 3 vols. Cr. 8vo. 31s. 6d. MR. F. MARION CRAWFORD'S NEW NOVEL. ZOROASTER. By F. MARION CRAWFORD, Author of 'Mr. Isaacs,' 'Doctor Claudius,' 'A Roman Singer,' &c. 2 vols. Globe 8vo. 12s. NEW BOOK BY MR. ARCHIBALD FORBES. SOUVENIRS OF SOME CONTINENTS. By ARCHIBALD FORBES. Crown 8vo. 6s. POEMS. By MATTHEW ARNOLD. In Three Volumes. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. each. Vol. I. Early Poems, Narrative Poems, and Sonnets. Vol. II. Lyric and Elegiac Poems. Vol. III. Dramatic and Later Poems. NEW BOOK BY SIR JAMES FITZJAMES STEPHEN. THE STORY OF NUNCOMAR AND THE IMPEACHMENT OF SIR ELIJAH IMPEY. By Sir JAMES FITZJAMES STEPHEN, K.C.S.I., D.C.L., a Judge of the High Court of Justice, Queen's Bench Division. 2 vols. Crown 8vo. 15s. 'The trial of Nuncomar is the most dramatic incident in the history of the English in India, excepting the tragedy of the Black Hole, from the first appearance of the gentleman adventures in the Indies down to the great Mutiny........ An instructive and still more a convincing book........But perhaps the best reward of Sir Fitzjames Stephen's latest inquiry will be the conviction that he has reversed the decree of history, partially and blindly written, and that he has vindicated one reputation which had been destroyed on false and insufficient grounds.'—TIMES. LIFE OF ROBERT FAIRFAX, OF STEETON, Vice-Admiral, Alderman and Member for York, A.D. 1666–1725. By CLEMENTS R. MARKHAM, F.S.A., Author of 'A Life of the Great Lord Fairfax,' &c. Demy 8vo. 12s. 6d. VERE HENRY, LORD HOBART, ESSAYS AND MISCELLANEOUS WRITINGS OF. With a Biographical Sketch. Edited by MARY, LADY HOBART. Demy 8vo. [Just ready. NEW BOOK BY THE BISHOP OF DURHAM. THE APOSTOLIC FATHERS. Part II. S. IGNATIUS—S. POLYCARP. Revised Text, with Introductions, Notes, Dissertations, and Translations. By J. B. LIGHTFOOT, D.D., D.C.L., LL.D., Bishop of Durham. Vol. I., Vol. II. Sections I. II. Demy 8vo. [Immediately. SOCIAL QUESTIONS FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY. By the Rev. J. LLEWELYN DAVIES, M.A., Rector of Christ Church, St. Marylebone. Crown 8vo. [Just ready. PRAYERS FOR PUBLIC WORSHIP. By the late JOHN SERVICE, D.D., Author of 'Sermons,' 'Salvation Here and Hereafter,' &c. Crown 8vo. [Just ready. GREEK TESTAMENT FOR SCHOOLS. THE NEW TESTAMENT IN THE ORIGINAL GREEK. The Text Revised. by BROOKE FOSS WESTCOTT, D.D., and FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT, D.D. 12mo. cloth, 4s. 6d. ; 18mo. roan, red edges, 5s. 6d. OVERPRESSURE IN HIGH SCHOOLS IN DENMARK. By Dr. HERTEL, Municipal Medical Officer, Copenhagen. Translated from the Danish by C. GODFREY SORENSEN. With Introduction by J. CRICHTON BROWNE. M.D., LL.D., F.R.S. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. EUROPEAN BUTTERFLIES. By FRANCIS DE V. KANE. With Copperplate Illustrations. Crown 8vo. [In a few days A NEW ALGEBRA FOR SCHOOLS. ELEMENTARY ALGEBRA FOR SCHOOLS. By H. S. HALL, B.A., formerly Scholar of Christ's College, Cambridge, Master of the Military and Engineering Side, Clifton College, and S. R. KNIGHT, B.A., formerly Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, late Assistant-Master at Marlborough College. Globe 8vo. 3s. 6d : with Answers, 4s. 6d. A NEW LATIN COURSE. MACMILLAN'S LATIN COURSE, FIRST YEAR. By A. M. COOK, M.A., Assistant-Master at St. Paul's School. Globe 8vo. 2s. 6d. WITH A PREFACE BY T.H. HUXLEY, P.R.S. AN ATLAS OF PRACTICAL ELEMENTARY BIOLOGY. By G. B. HOWES, Demonstrator of Biology, Normal School of Science and Royal School of Mines, Lecturer in Comparative Anatomy, St. George's Hospital Medical School, London. With a Preface by T. H. HUXLEY, P.R.S. Medium 4to. 14s. [Just ready. CLASSICAL SERIES.—New Volume. ANDOCIDES.—DE MYSTERIIS. Edited by W. J. HICKIE, M.A., St. John's College, Cambridge, late Assistant Master in Denstone College. Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 6d. 'THE CROFTERS.' By JAMES SIME. See The English Illustrated Magazine For AUGUST. Profusely Illustrated, price Sixpence ; by post, 8d. MACMILLAN & CO., Bedford Street, London.iv THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. CHURCH QUARTERLY REVIEW. The Church Quarterly Review has now completed its Eighth year and its Eighteenth Volume. The object in view has been to make the Church Quarterly Review the recognised organ of orthodox opinion for the Church of England on Theology strictly so termed (including Liturgiology), and on all questions of immediate practical interest which affect the well-being of the Church, either as a spiritual body, or in its established relations to the State; and to discuss from a Churchman's point of view those topics of ethical, literary, or historical interest which the organs of differing schools lose no opportunity of pressing upon the public. The Church Quarterly Review exists to promote Church doctrine, Church life, and Church opinion, not only in the Church of England, but in the Anglican Communion everywhere, and it includes articles on Ecclesiastical affairs in Ireland, Scotland, India, the Colonies, and the United States. The Review has not been backward in vindicating the claims of Revealed Religion and of the doctrines of the Church Catholic against Agnosticism on the one hand, and against Romanism and Dissent on the other. On none of the questions concerning which the Christian faith is in the present day a matter of controversy has the Church Quarterly Review remained silent. Nor is this all : if on the one hand the conflicts of Reason and Faith, Science and Religion, have not been beyond the reach and outside scope of the Review, so also on the other hand the humbler details of everyday Parochial work have not been thought too insignificant to be deserving of attention. General Literature, History, and Art will also be found to occupy their due share of space in the pages of the Review, so as to make it not merely the organ of the Clergy, but also suitable for the general reader and for circulation in families. CONTENTS OF NO. 40, VOL., XX., JULY 1885. I. THE NEW HIEROGLYPHS OF WESTERN ASIA. II. THE RISE AND DECAY OF THE ENGLISH YEOMANRY. III. CHARLES LESLIE AND THE NONJURORS. IV. THE AUTHORSHIP AND AUTHENTICITY OF PAPAL BULLS. V. THE RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CANDIDATES FOR HOLY ORDERS. VI. BENHAM'S DIOCESAN HISTORY OF WINCHESTER. VII. MORALITIES OF SOCIALISM. VIII. RELIGION AND SCIENCE : CANON CURTEIS'S 'BOYLE LECTURES.' IX. DID THE STATE ESTABLISH THE CHURCH? X. THE REVISED VERSION OF THE OLD TESTAMENT. XI. THE CLERGY PENSIONS INSTITUTION. SHORT NOTICES. ----------------------------------------- SPOTTISWOODE & CO., New-street Square, London ; And all of Booksellers. Price 6s. Annual Subscriptions (£1) received by the Publishers. LONDON LIBRARY, ST. JAMES'S SQUARE, S.W. President––LORD HOUGHTON. Vice-Presidents. RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. | HIS GRACE THE LORD ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN. LORD TENNYSON. | E.H. BUNBURY, ESQ. Trustees.––LORD HOUGHTON, EARL OF CARNARVON, EARL OF ROSEBERY. Committee. Sir HENRY BARKLY, K.C.B. Sir F. W. BURTON. Professor SIDNEY COLVIN. AUSTIN DOBSON, Esq. H. W. FREHLAND, Esq. SYDNEY GEDGE, Esq. EDMUND GOSSE, Esq. F. HARRISON, Esq. C.M. KENNEDY, Esq., C.B. A. LANG, Esq. Rev. STANLEY LEATHES, D.D. W. WATKISS LLOYD, Esq. H. MAXWELL LYTE, Esq. ST. GEORGE MIVART, Esq. J. COTTER MORISON, Esq. Professor HENRY MORLEY. D. MUNK, Esq. EDWARD PEACOCK, Esq. F. POLLOCK, Esq. Rev. Dr. RIGG. G. J. ROMANES, Esq. HERBERT SPENCER, Esq. LESLIE STEPHEN, Esq. The Very Rev. DEAN OF WESTMINSTER. The Library contains 100,000 volumes of Ancient and Modern Literature in various languages. Subscription, £3 a year without entrance fee, of £2 with entrance fee of £6; Life-membership, £26. Fifteen volumes are allowed to country and ten to town Members. Reading Room open from 10 to half-past 6. Catalogue Supplement (1875-80), price 5s. ; to Members, 4s. Prospectus on Application. ROBERT HARRISON, Secretary and Librarian. GORDON COLLEGE, CAIRO. A PROPOSAL has been made to establish in Cairo a HIGH-CLASS RESIDENT SCHOOL FOR BOYS, at which an excellent secular education, combined with careful moral and religious training, shall be given to all the pupils. The native Coptic Christians have suffered from oppression for many centuries, and are now much needing a good education for their youth, and especially for those intended for the Ministry. The Committee of the 'Association for the Furtherance of Christianity in Egypt,' with the Archbishop of Canterbury at its head, make an earnest appeal for Funds to enable them to carry out the above-named work, and they ask for £2,000 to enable them to start the Institution, which, for very obvious reasons, is to be called the 'Gordon College.' FIRST LIST OF CONTRIBUTIONS:–– £ s. d. The Bishop of Carlisle .. .. .. .. 50 0 0 R. Few, Esq. .. .. .. .. .. .. 100 0 0 Mrs. G. Greenwood .. .. .. .. .. 5 5 0 Rev. H. G. Morse (in 3 years) .. .. .. 150 0 0 W. Vere Alston, Esq. .. .. .. .. 0 5 0 Rev. R. S. Hunt (in 3 years) .. .. .. 30 0 0 R. E. Sanson, Esq. .. .. .. .. .. 1 0 0 Mrs. Hamilton Roe .. .. .. .. .. 10 0 0 A. Powell, Esq. .. .. .. .. .. 25 0 0 Archdeacon Harrison .. .. .. .. 10 0 0 Subscriptions and Donations will be received by Messrs. Herries, Farquhar, & Co., 16 St. James's Street, S.W.; or by the Treasurers of the Association, R. Few, Esq., and Sir W. Farquhar, Bart., or by the Hon. Secretary, Rev. R. Milburn Blakiston, 2 Dean's Yard, London, S.W. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. v MESSRS. LONGMANS & CO.'S LIST. THE EDINBURGH REVIEW, No. 331, is now ready. Price 6s. CONTENTS: 1. THE LIFE AND WORKS OF JOHN KEATS. 2. MEMOIRS OF COUNT PASOLINI. 3. VERRALL ON THE ODES OF HORACE. 4. THE FRENCH IN NORTH AMERICA. 5. HARBOURS AND DOCKS. 6. SIR HENRY TAYLOR'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 7. THE CITY LIVERY COMPANIES. 8. BISHOP TEMPLE'S LECTURES. 9. NAVAL WARFARE. 10. THE PORTS AND TRADE OF COREA. 11. THE PARTING OF THE WATERS. SECOND EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS. SPECTRUM ANALYSIS IN ITS APPLICATION TO TERRESTRIAL SUBSTANCES AND THE PHYSICAL CONSTITUTION OF THE HEAVENLY BODIES. Familiarly explained by the late Dr. H. SCHELLEN. Translated from the Third Enlarged and Revised German Edition by JANE and CAROLINE LASSELL. Edited, with Notes, by Capt. W. DE W. ABNEY, R.E. With 14 Plates (including Angström's and Cornu's Maps) and 291 Woodcuts. 8vo. 31s. 6d. THE NATIONAL SYSTEM OF POLITICAL ECONOMY. BY FRIEDRICH LIST. Translated from the Original German by SAMPSON S. LLOYD, M.P. 8vo. 10s. 6d. The Author of this book combats the opinions of Adam Smith and the French Economists, and offers a systematic and scientific defense of the principles of moderate and well-regulated protection of native manufacturing industry. PEASANT PROPERTIES, and other Selected Essays. By Lady VERNEY. 2 vols. crown 8vo. 16s. NEW EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED. A BOOK ON ANGLING; or Treatise on the Art of Fishing in every branch ; including full Illustrated Lists of Salmon Flies. By FRANCIS FRANCIS. Post 8vo. Portrait and Plates, 15s. HOW TO MAKE THE LAND PAY ; or, Profitable Industries connected with the Land, and Suitable to all Occupations, large or small. By HENRY P. DUNSTER, M.A. VICAR of Wood-Bastwick, Norfolk. Crown 8vo. 5s. AN AGRICULTURAL NOTE-BOOK, to assist Candidates in preparing for the Science and Art and other Examinations in Agriculture. By WILLIAM CHARLES TAYLOR, Principal of the Agricultural College, Aspatria, Carlisle. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. THE WANDERING OF ULYSSES : a Sequel to 'The Trojan War.' By Professor C. WITT, Head-Master of the Alstadt Gymnasium, Königsberg. Translated into English by FRANCES YOUNGHUSBAND. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. MYTHS OF HELLAS. Third Edition. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. THE TROJAN WAR. Crown 8vo. 2s. SECOND EDITION. A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES. By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Small fcp. 8vo. printed on hand-made paper, 5s. THE RUSSIAN REVOLT : its Causes, Condition, and Prospects. By EDMUND NOBLE. Fcp. 8vo. 5s. AID TO ENGINEERING SOLUTION. By LOWIS D'A. JACKSON, Civil Engineer, Author of 'Aid to Survey Practice,' 'Canal and Culvert Tables.' With 111 Diagrams and 5 Woodcut Illustrations. 8vo. 21s. OUR DWELLINGS : Healthy and Unhealthy. Addressed to Girls attending the Leeds Board Schools. By CATHERINE M. BUCKTON, late Member of the Leeds School Board, Author of 'Health in the House' &c. With 39 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. A MANUAL OF HEALTH SCIENCE. Adapted for Use in Schools and Colleges, and suited to the Requirements of Students preparing for the Examinations in Hygiene of the Science and Art Department, &c. By ANDREW WILSON, F.R.S.E. F.L.S. &c. Combe Lecturer on Physiology and Health, Editor of Health, &c. With 74 Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. BY SHORE AND SEDGE. By BRET HARTE. 16mo. 1s. sewed. CONTENTS:––1. An Apostle of the Tules. 2. Sarah Walker. 3. A Ship of '49. London : LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.vi THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. MISSION TO DEEP SEA FISHERMEN. FOUR Mission Vessels are cruising amongst the North Sea Trawling Fleets. 12,000 Smacksmen are engaged all the year round in providing our tables with fish. These men, who for us toil through furious blast and sleety storm––who hazard their lives and fall victims, hundreds of them, to the pitiless waves, that markets at home may be well supplied––may rightly claim some small share in the privileges we so richly enjoy and so highly prize. THIS THEY CAN ONLY HAVE THROUGH THE PRESENCE OF THE MISSION VESSELS, carrying to the fishermen the message of Divine mercy and pardoning love, bringing the pleasure of books to while away the weary hours, affording relief in case of sickness and injury, and cheering and brightening dull and monotonous lives by their presence and ministry. 'The Mission Smacks are doing in the North Sea a grand work, worthy of the support of a great maritime nation like England; and I believe that the results of their effort, great as they are in the present, will, if only supported liberally by the public, be of untold value in the future.' EDWARD BIRKBECK, Esq., M.P. A Missionary writes: 'I boarded the Coper Kenan, of Ostend, and found the captain busy supplying his customers with spirits and tobacco. I expressed surprise on seeing that he had trawling gear, and reminded him that when I visited his vessel three years ago he did not fish. "Well sir," he said, "our trade is not what it used to be, for there are so many teetotallers now. It's these Mission ships that do it, and if there are many more of them THERE'LL SOON BE NO COPERS." ' From our standpoint this is good news, indeed, and the Committee earnestly hope the Christian public will soon place it in their power to despatch a MISSION VESSEL TO EVERY FLEET. FUNDS ARE GREATLY NEEDED. E. J. MATHER, Secretary, 31 New Bridge Street, E.C. -------------------------------------------- THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. vii MISSION BUILDINGS FUND OF THE INCORPORATED CHURCH BUILDING SOCIETY. 'England is now a vast Mission Field, half filled with home heathen.'–BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Church Congress, 1879. MISSION BUILDINGS ARE URGENTLY NEEDED–– 1. In Towns, as Chapels-of-Ease, or as nurseries to the Mother Church, for less formal services, addresses by laymen, &c. 2. In Hamlets, for the young, the feeble, and the aged. 3. In New Districts. Some of the best known London Churches thus began their work. 'In many districts, the only way to establish a church is by first getting together a congregation in a Mission hall.'–(The late) CANON MILLER. 4. For Special Classes, navvies, sailors, &c. They are economical and attractive. 'A good church with a certain number of Mission chapels would more economically do the work of the Church.'–EARL NELSON. The Society has already made grants towards 460 Mission buildings, amounting to £12,328. Many applications have to be deferred from lack of means. Will Churchpeople contribute to aid this effort on behalf of one of the greatest needs of the Church at the present time? At nearly every meeting of the Committee all the money in hand is voted away. CONTRIBUTIONS will be gratefully received by the Rev. R. MILBURN BLAKISTON, 2 Dean's Yard, London, S.W. BRITISH EQUITABLE ASSURANCE COMPANY, 4 QUEEN STREET PLACE, E.C. CAPITAL–A QUARTER OF A MILLION STERLING Directors. [LEFT COLUMN] WILLIAM MACDONALD BASDEN, Esq., Great St. Helen's, Bishopsgate Street, City, and Lloyd's. GEORGE THOMAS DALE, Esq., Bayswater. WILLIAM SUTTON GOVER, Esq., Casino House, Herne Hill, and 4 Queen Street Place, City. [RIGHT COLUMN] JOHN MIDDLETON HARE, Esq., Stoke Newington. FOUNTAIN JOHN HARTLEY, Esq., Clapton. WILLIAM GEORGE LEMON, Esq., Lincoln's Inn. WILLIAM SMITH, Esq., Upper Norwood. EDWARD BEAN UNDERHILL, Esq., LL.D., Hampstead. Auditors. [LEFT COLUMN] ALFRED HENRY BAYNES, Esq., Wandsworth. [RIGHT COLUMN] JAMES CLARKE, Esq., Fleet Street, City. [MIDDLE] WILLIAM POTTER OLNEY, Esq., New Kent Road. Solicitors.–Messrs. HENRY GOVER & SON, 3 Adelaide Place, London Bridge. Bankers.–THE LONDON AND WESTMINSTER BANK, Lothbury. Managing Director and Actuary.–WILLIAM SUTTON GOVER, Esq., F.S.S., F.I.A. Assistant Actuary.–FREDERIC FIELD GOVER, Esq. Sub-Manager.–JOHN WILKINSON FAIREY, Esq. TWENTY-NINTH ANNUAL REPORT, MAY, 1884. NEW BUSINESS. 2,097 Policies Issued for . . . . .£411,099 New Premium Income . . . . . . . .12,566 BUSINESS IN FORCE. 26,704 Policies, assuring . . . . . £4,948,145 REVENUE OF THE YEAR. Premiums . . . . . . £144,626 Interest, &c. . . . . . . 37,695 ------------ £182,321 ACCUMULATED FUND. Laid by in the year . . . . . . . . . . . . .£65,507 Accumulated Fund on 31st January, 1884 (equal to 76 per cent. of the net premiums received upon Policies in force . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . £938,609 ACCUMULATED FUND AT END OF DECEMBER, 1884, EXCEEDS ONE MILLION STERLING. Claims and Bonuses paid under Company's Policies . . . . £800,808 Average Reversionary Bonus for 27 years, about 1 1/4 per cent. per annum.viii THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. THE Scottish Provident Institution. 6 St. Andrew Square, Edinburgh. 17 King William Street, London, E.C. COMBINES the Advantages of Mutual Assurance with Moderate Premiums. The Premiums are so moderate that at most ages an Assurance of £1,200 or £1,250 may be secured from the first for the same yearly payment which would elsewhere assure (with profits) £1,000 only. The whole Profits go to the Policyholders on a system at once safe and equitable, no share being given to those by whose early death there is a loss. At last division, Policies for £1,000 sharing a first time were increased to sums varying from £1,180 to £1,300 or more. Others were raised to £1,400, £1,700, and upwards. New Assurances in 1884, [ ]£1,015,155; with Premiums, £35,274. Income in Year, £688,920. The Funds (increased in Year by £327,540) were at its close £5,063,000. Only Two Offices in the Kingdom (both older) have as large a Fund. WHOLE-WORLD LICENCES – NON-FORFEITURE OF POLICIES. POLICIES are generally now free from restrictions on foreign residence after five years, and unchallengeable on any ground but fraud. POLICIES may be revived (after month of grace) on payment of premium within a year, without proof of health. In the case of death intervening, when the value exceeds the unpaid premium, the full sum is payable, under deduction of arrears. Claims payable One Month after proof, which is in most cases equivalent to immediate payment. FULL EXPLANATIONS WILL BE FOUND IN REPORT, TO BE HAD ON APPLICATION. J. MUIR LEITCH, London Secretary. JAMES WATSON, Manager. THE 'FACILE' SAFETY BICYCLE. (BEALE & STRAW'S PATENT.) The 'FACILE' is incomparably the best roadster ever introduced, whether for elderly or athletic riders, being Safe, Speedy, Comfortable, and Easy to learn, &c. During 1884 ten records of over 200 miles in one day have been made on the road, including Mr. Adams's ride of 266 1/4 miles in one day, which beats all previous records on any Machine. DESCRIPTIVE PAMPHLET FREE. Sole Manufacturers––ELLIS & Co. Ld. 47 Farringdon Road, London, E.C. ESTABLISHED 1851. BIRKBECK BANK.––Southampton Buildings, Chancery Lane. Current Accounts opened according to the usual practice of other Bankers, and Interest allowed on the minimum monthly balances when not drawn below £50. No commission charged for keeping accounts. The Bank also receives money on Deposit at Three per cent. Interest, repayable on demand. The Bank undertakes for its Customers, free of charge, the custody of Deeds, Writings, and other Securities and Valuables; the Collection of Bills of Exchange, Dividends, and Coupons; and the purchase and sale of Stocks and Shares. Letters of Credit and Circular Notes issued. A Pamphlet on application. FRANCIS RAVENSCROFT, Manager. JOSEPH GILLOTT'S STEEL PENS. GOLD MEDAL, PARIS, 1878. To show the influence we have in forwarding the interests of Advertisers, it may be mentioned that we have the SOLE AGENCY of the Advertisement Pages of THIS REVIEW; also of the SATURDAY REVIEW, THE CHILD'S PICTORIAL, The Calendar of the Incorporated Law Society, Charities Register and Digest (Charity Organisation Society), besides constantly retaining the BEST POSITIONS in many other important papers and books. Time, Labour, and Money may be saved by sending all announcements for Newspapers, Magazines, &c., through HART's ADVERTISING OFFICES. By a SINGLE ORDER an Advertisement can be inserted in any number of Papers, Religious or General. The Advertiser thus saves immense time and labour, and receives only ONE Advertising Account instead of one from each paper. ANNOUNCEMENTS of Schools, Colleges, Societies, Memorial and other Public Funds, inserted (at Publishers' rates) in Guardian, Church Times, Record, Times, Standard, Morning Post, Saturday Review, Spectator, Athenæum, or any other paper in the world. HART'S ADVERTISING OFFICES, 33 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, LONDON, W.C. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. ix PARTRIDGE & COOPER, Wholesale and Retail Stationers, 191 & 192 FLEET ST., 1 & 2 CHANCERY LANE, 35 CAREY ST., AND STAND 2,593 INVENTIONS EXHIBITION, SOLE AGENTS IN LONDON FOR THE COLUMBIA TYPE-WRITER. ONE THIRD ACTUAL SIZE. It is to the Pen what the Sewing Machine is to the Needle. DO NOT BUY A TYPE-WRITER TILL YOU HAVE SEEN 'THE COLUMBIA.' The Type-Writer is essentially the writing instrument of the age. Its general use is but the matter of a few years. THERE ARE SOME GENTLEMEN who can remember the opposition to steel pen nibs. In twenty years' time the present generation will tell their grandchildren about the opposition to Type-Writers, and their grandchildren will wonder how ever their grandparents could prefer to use the pen nib, with its attendant ills of bad ink, a nib that is too hard or too soft, and illegible writing. The 'COLUMBIA' is the latest invention, and differs materially from all previous machines in its extreme simplicity, the high rate of speed attainable, and its cheapness. A PERFECT WRITING MACHINE— 1st. Must be portable. 2nd. It should be simple. 3rd. It should print direct from hard metal type, and inked the same as in letterpress printing; also manifold clear copies. 4th. Its printing should be invariable in alignment, but the correct space for each letter must be allowed. 5th. It should be able to write on any width of paper. THE COLUMBIA TYPE-WRITER— 1st. Weighs but 3 lbs., and is only 9 by 5 inches. 2nd. Has only eight working parts. 3rd. Prints directly from hard metal type, consequently the impression is sharp and clear, not smeared, as when ink ribbons or rubber type are used. It also manifolds 12 copies. 4th. Is the only machine printing from a solid wheel. The shifting out of line by the type is impossible; and it also is the only machine allowing the correct space for each letter, so rendering its writing equal to bookwork. 5th. Any size from a post-card or envelope to foolscap, or brief size on the extra machine. The No. 2 COLUMBIA is the Only Machine that prints any Continental Language without change of type; and it has also the following signs:—English Alphabet in Capitals and Small Letters, £, $, %, &, Numerals, Stops, &c., thus making it the most complete Writer yet offered to the Public. 50,000 copies can be taken from a letter written with the Columbia Transfer Ink. Engineering says:—'The "Columbia" is full of ingenious devices; it is small and compact, and its characters are well spaced and sharply cut.' St. James's Gazette says:—'This machine is the simplest yet devised for type-writing, and its management is so easy as to be acquired in a few minutes by any person of ordinary intelligence.' Myra's Journal says (the Lady Editor of which uses one of these machines):––'The machine is exceedingly cleverly contrived; the work is easy, by no means fatiguing; it prints with exquisite clearness, and a child can work it.' The Trade Journals all unite in speaking of it as exceedingly simple, compact, clear, rapid, and cheap. CALL AND SEE IT OR WRITE FOR SPECIMENS TO PARTRIDGE & COOPER, 192 FLEET STREET, or STAND 2,593 INVENTIONS EXHIBITION.x THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVISER, AUGUST 1885. TWO GOLD MEDALS 'THE HEALTHERIES,' 1884 THOMAS BRADFORD & CO., LAUNDRY AND DAIRY ENGINEERS, 140 TO 143 High Holborn, London; Victoria St., Manchester; Bold St., Liverpool; and Crescent Iron Works, Salford. The Many Laundries,--of almost every capacity, both for-Hand Power, -Steam Power, -Gas Pwer, -Water Power, -that we have during the last twenty-five years fitted up almost everywhere,-have uniformity been satisfactory in their results-those of recent years more especially so. Economy,-and a perfect and thorough system of cleansing and purifying all sorts of linen,-more especially body linen,-so essential to bodily health,-are absolutely ensured. Consultation by appointment;-every class of Laundry can be inspected in operation,-complete plans furnished when requires, as required-for House, Mansion, School, Hotel, Workhouse, Asylum, Hospital, or Steam Laundry. General Catalogue free by post. Our Model Dairy Fittings consist of 'Diaphragm' Barrel and 'Declivity' Box Churns, 'Albany' and 'Springfield' Butter Workers. Revolving-Disc Milk Pan Stands, to which some 40 Gold and Silver Medals have been awarded. See special Dairy Catalogue (which is very comprehensive), free by post. ----------------------------------- A LUXURY TO ALL READERS, JOHN CARTER'S LITERARY MACHINE For holding a Book or writing desk, lamp, meals &c., in any position over an easy chair, bed, or sofa. PRICES from [pound sterling]1. 1s. BATH CHAIRS 30s Self-Propelling Chairs, [pound sterling]4 10s. Carrying Chairs, From [pound sterling]1. 5s. Bed Table from 10s. JOHN CARTER, 61 New Cavendish St., Portland Place, London, W.---Only Address. ILLUSTRATED PRICE LISTS (68 PAGES) POST FREE. GOLD MEDAL, HEALTH EXHIBITION. TELEPHONE No. 3881. ---------------------------------------- HAY FEVER & COLDS CURED BY DR. DUNBAR'S ALKARAM SMELLING BOTTLE, 2/9 EACH. Which, if inhaled on the first symptoms, will at once remove them, and even when a cold has been neglected and become severe, it will give immediate relieve, and generally cure in one day. To open the Bottle, dip the stopper into very hot water, and rub off the isinglass. Address Dr. DUNBAR, care of F. NEWBERY & SONS, 1 King Edward Street, Newgate Street, St. Paul's London. ------------------------------------------- MILES DOUGHTY'S VOICE LOZENGE, FOR SINGERS, FOR SPEAKERS, RECITERS &c. SING WELL! SPEAK WELL! --Doughty's Voice Lozenge has been gratefully appreciated by througsands of clerical, musical, and other celebriteis for nearly 40 years. it imparts tot he voice clearness of sound and brilliandcy of tone. JENNY LIND--'I have much pleasure in confirming, as far as my experience extends, the testimony already so general in favour of the Lozenge prepared by you' (Miles Doughty). 6d., 1s., 2s. 6d,m 5s. and 11s.--post free, 7d., 1s. 2d. &c. Ask your Chemist for them. --F NEWBERY & SONS, 1 King Edward Street, London, E.C. Established A.D. 1746. ------------------------------------------------ J.J. BELL & C[?] SECRETE OIL PROMOTES GROWTH OF THE HAIR F. NEWBERY & SONS LONDON E.C. BELL'S SECRETE OIL (REGISTERED) The best, cheapest, and most wholesome hair preparataion. It does not clog, and is not a dye. -------- BELL'S UNIQUE VEGETABLE EXTRACT (REGISTERED) Is an astringent hair-dressing. It cleanses the scalp effectually. -------- Prices of OIL or EXTRACT. 1/, 2/, 5/. F. NEWBERY & SONS, Sole Proprietors, 1 King Edward St., Newgate St. London. Established over 40 Years. -------------------------------------------------------- HIMROD'S CURE FOR ASTHMA The Discoverer of HIMROD'S CURE, who was for Twelve Years a great sufferer with that terrible disease, Asthma, has, after many trials and failures, at last succeeded in bringing together a combination which is now offered to the public with the fullest confidence in its value as a CURE. It has been thoroughly tested in many of the worst cases, and all conversant with its merits unite in awarding it the mos unqualified praise. Of all Chemists. 4s. per box, or, by remitting 4s. 3d. to the undersigned. a box will be mailed to any address, charges paid. F. NEWBERY & SONS, (British Depot) 1 King Edward Street, Newgate Street, London, E.C. ----------------------------------------------------------- THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVISER, AUGUST 1885. xi THE 'HALL' TYPE-WRITER. The above Cut is exactly one-third, in length and width, of the Machine, standard size. Price [pound sterling]8. 8s. Weight, 7 lbs. (including case). Size, 14 x 7 x 2.5 ins. THE ONLY PORTABLE COMPLETE WRITING MACHINE EXTANT. ------------------------------- THE FOLLOWING TESTIMONIALS, AMONGST OTHERS, HAVE BEEN RECEIVED: From His Royal Highness the Grand Duke of Baden. 'Karlsruhe, 21st February, 1885. 'His Royal Highness wishes you to know that the Type-writer arrived in excellent condition, and that all expectation as regards its qualifications have been far surpassed. H.R.H. the Grand Duke considers the "Hall" Type-writer to be on of the best and most practical Type-writing machines that have been brought to his notice. 'REGENAUER' From Lady Holland, 'Pine Wood, Witley. Lady Holland is much pleased with the Type-writer, and finds it works very well..' From Howard Lawrence, Esq., written and dated en route in Midland Train. I am very pleased with this Type-writer.' From the Rev. Cecil Bosanquet, Villa Camons, Nice. 'The Rev. Cecil Bosanquet is much pleased with his "Hall" Type-writer. He finds its small size and light weight particularly convenient. He has had no trouble whatever in learning its use.' From S. Dukinfield Darbishire, Esq., M.D. Oxon, 60 High Street, Oxford. 'I should be glad if you would sen me one of the "Apothecary types." I have great pleasure in testifying to the excellence of the "Hall' Type-writer; it is invaluable to me in my literary work and in my correspondence. I have only had the machine a few days, and I can already print with it as quickly as I can write with a pen.' Prospectuses, Testimonials, and all Particulars post-free from WITHERBY & CO., 325a HIGH HOLBORN, W.C., & 74 CORNHILL, LONDON. -------------------------------------------------------------- HARTMANN'S WOOD WOOL DIAPERS. 2/- Per Dozen. Being thus by far cheaper than the usual expenditure in washing alone, without mentioning their many advantages so conducive to health and comfort. HARTMANN's HYGIENIC WOOD WOOL DIAPERS REGISTERED TRADE MARK. INDISPENSABLE TO LADIES TRAVELLING. To be had or ordered of every Ladies' Outfitter and Draper, throughout the World at 2s. per dozen. Hartmann's Hygienic Wood Wool Diapers are pronounce by the British Medical Profession to be perfect in material and form, and the most absorbent, comfortable, and healthful (because antiseptic) appliances ever invented. They surpass anything of their kind, especially the common Absorbent Cotton Wool Pad, two and three of which are not equal to ONE of Hartmann's Hygienic Wood Wool Diapers, which are therefore the cheapest and best article in the market. Hartmann's Patent Wood Wool specialities are used in all the leading Hospitals throughout the country, this being the highest recognition which can be given to any sanitary appliance. CHAS. BAYER & CO., 31 LONDON WALL, LONDON, E.C. Wholesale Agents: SMART, BLACK, & CO., 32 London Wall, E.C. Sample Packets of 1 dozen at 2s. 3d. per Parcel Post, or 6 dozen for 12s. 6d., direct from the Sole Consignees for the United Kingdom and Colonies-- A. ESSINGER & COMPANY, 11 HATTON GARDEN, LONDON, E.C. Descriptive Circular, containing Testimonials from the leading Hospitals of England, and from the leading Members of the Medical Profession, post-free. WARNING.--Beware of injurious Imitations. None genuine unless each article is stamped with above Trade Mark. Do not allow a substitute to be imposed upon you. [page] xii THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. POOLE & LORD, 318 (late 145) OXFORD STREET, NEARLY OPPOSITE BOND STREET, W. OUTFITTERS, HOSIERS, AND GLOVERS. SOLE INVENTORS OF THE SANS-PLIS SHIRT. In correspondence with ASQUITH & LORD, S Rampart Row, Bombay. The SANS-PLIS Shirt is superior to any other for Indian and Colonial wear. Being entirely free from gathers, it is cooler, much stronger, and will bear the Indian mode of washing better than any other Shirt in use. A single Shirt, or other article, made to measure, and accurate patterns preserved to ensure correctness in the execution of future orders. POOLE & LORD, 318 OXFORD ST. LONDON THE BEST FOR STYLE FIT & COMFORT. READY MADE OR MADE TO MEASURE. ASQUITH & LORD, SHIRT MAKERS BOMBAY [new section] AMERICAN WHISKEY. RARE OLD, FINEST QUALITY, 48s. per DOZEN CASE. Forwarded CARRIAGE PAID to any Railway Station in the United Kingdom on receipt of remittance for above amount. JAMES SMITH & CO., WINE MERCHANTS, LIVERPOOL, ... ... ... 9 LORD STREET. MANCHESTER, ... ... ... 26 MARKET STREET. BIRMINGHAM, ... ... ... 83 HIGH STREET [new section] THE GOLD MEDAL OF THE INTERNATIONAL HEALTH EXHIBITION, LONDON, 1884, has been awarded for BENGER'S SELF-DIGESTIVE FOOD For INFANTS, CHILDREN, AND INVALIDS. A Delicious and Highly Nutritive FOOD, distinguished from all others by the ease with which it can be digested and absorbed. THE LONDON MEDICAL RECORD says:-'Undoubtedly a great advance on any previous attempt in this direction. We have given it in many cases with the most marked benefit.-It is invaluable.' Reports by the LANCET and other leading Medical Journals accompany each tin. BENGER'S FOOD is sold by Chemists, &c., in TINS at 1s. 6d., 2s. 6d., and 5s., or may be had direct from the Manufacturers, MOTTERSHEAD & CO. [S. PAINE AND F. B. BENGER], MANCHESTER. [NEXT PAGE] THE NINETEENTH CENTURY ADVERTISER, AUGUST 1885. [page] xiii MAPLE & CO. Tottenham Court Road. ART FURNITURE. ADAMS DESIGNS. CHIPPENDALE. MAPLE & CO., Upholsters by Special Appointment to Her Majesty.-THE LARGEST FURNISHING ESTABLISHMENT in the World. Acres of Show Rooms for the display of every description of household requisites. MAPLE & CO., Timber Merchants and Direct Importers of the finest Woods to be found in Africa, Asia, and America, and Manufacturers of Cabinet Furniture in various woods by steam-power. MAPLE & CO. - YEW TREE WOOD FURNITURE. This is the most fashionable novelty, somewhat resembling mahogany in colour, but much lighter and brighter looking, and suitable for bedrooms. The price is about the same as for mahogany. MAPLE & CO. - SEQUOIA, Oregon Woods, Circassian Ash, Hungarian Ash, Satin-Wood, and American Walnut, all made very strong and durable FURNITURE. These woods are all to be seen in their manufactured state. MAPLE & CO. - BassWood FURNITURE is one of the novelties particularly recommended, being much harder than pine, and a prettier wood. 500 Bedroom Suites, finished in various woods, to select from. Prices from 5 and a half to 250 guineas. Many of these are quite novelties in shape and finish. 500 BEDROOM SUITES on Show to select from. Established 48 years. MAPLE & CO. LONDON. BEDSTEADS. BEDSTEADS. BEDSTEADS. MAPLE & CO. have seldom less than 10,000 BEDSTEADS in stock, comprising some 300 various patterns, in sizes from 2 ft. 6 in. to 5 ft. 6 in. wide, ready for immediate delivery-on the day of purchase, if desired. The disappointment and delay incident to choosing from designs only, where but a limited stock is kept, is thus avoided. Catalogues Free. MAPLE & CO. - 300 BRASS and IRON BEDSTEADS, fitted with Bedding complete in Show Rooms, to select from. Strong Iron Bedsteads from 8s. 6d. to 10 guineas; Brass Bedsteads from 70s to 40 guineas. 10,000 in stock. MAPLE & CO. have a SPECIAL DEPARTMENT for IRON and BRASS Four-post BEDSTEADS, Cribs, and Cots, specially adapted for mosquito curtains, used in India, Austrailia, and the Colonies. Price for full-sized Bedsteads, varying from 25s. Shippers and Colonial visitors are invited to inspect this varied stock, the largest in England, before deciding elsewhere. 10,000 Bedsteads to select from. MAPLE & CO. SPRING MATTRESSES. MAPLE & CO. HAIR MATTRESSES. MAPLE & CO. Wire-Woven MATTRESSES. MAPLE & CO. -Spring Mattresses- The PATENT Wire-woven SPRING MATTRESS. Such advantageous arrangements have been made that this much-admired Mattress is sold at the following low prices:-3ft., 15s. 9d.; 3ft. 6 in., 18s. 9d.; 4 ft., 21s. 6d.; 4 ft. 6 in., 24s. 6d. POSTAL ORDER DEPARTMENT.-Messrs. MAPLE & CO. beg respectfully to state that this Department is now so organised that they are fully prepared to execute and supply any article that can possibly be required in Furnishing at the same price, if not less, than any other house in England. Patterns sent ans quotations given free of charge. MAPLE & CO., Tottenham Court Road, London, [A??] Boulevard de Strasburg, Paris. MAPLE & CO. Tottenham Court Road. TURKEY CARPETS. INDIAN CARPETS. PERSIAN CARPETS. TURKEY CARPETS. - MAPLE & CO. have just received large consignments of fine TURKEY CARPETS, unique colourings, reproductions of the 17th century, beinf the first delivery of those made from this season's clip. - MAPLE & CO., London, and 17 and 18 Local Baron Aliotti, Smyrna. TURKEY CARPETS. - These special Carpets are exceptionally fine, both in colour and quality, while the prices are lower than ever known before. Appended are a few examples of useful sizes, with prices. The trade supplied:- 11 ft. 4 in. by 8 ft. 3 in. . . . . . . . . [$]6 10 0 12 ft. 0 in. by 10 ft. 6 in. . . . . . . . . 7 15 0 13 ft. 0 in. by 11 ft. 9 in. . . . . . . . . 8 10 0 14 ft. 9 in. by 11 ft. 0 in. . . . . . . . . 9 15 0 15 ft. 0 in. by 11 ft. 10 in. . . . . . . . . 11 15 0 WOODSTOCK CARPETS. - These are the inexpensive, but most artistic productions of the English loom, woven in one piece, without seam, bordered and fringed, suitable for reception and bedrooms. Can be had in many sizes. 8ft. 0in. * 7ft. 6in. [$]0 19 6 9ft. 0in. * 7ft. 6in. [$]1 2 0 9ft. 0in. * 9ft. 0in. [$]1 6 3 10ft. 6in. * 9ft. 0in. [$]1 10 6 10ft. 6in. * 10ft. 6in. [$]1 15 9 12ft. 6in. * 9ft. 0in. [$]1 15 0 12ft. 0in. * 10ft. 6in. [$]2 1 0 12ft. 0in. * 12ft. 0in. [$]2 6 6 13ft. 6in. * 10ft. 6in. [$]2 6 0 13ft. 6in. * 12ft. 0in. [$]2 12 6 15ft. 0in. * 12ft. 0in. [$]2 18 6 Rugs to match, 6ft. *3ft. 6/6 Several hundreds of old patterns at reduced prices. Each Carpet is protected by the Trade Mark, 'Woodstock.' Can only be had of MAPLE & CO., Carpet Factors. Purchasers of Fringed Carpets should beware of imitations. MAPLE & CO. LONDON. NEW SHOW ROOMS. NEW SHOW ROOMS. NEW SHOW ROOMS. MAPLE & CO. - The Specimen Rooms are good examples of high-class DECORATIVE FURNISHING, carried out in perfect taste, without extravagant expenditure. Every one about to Furnish, or rearrange their residences, would derive information by an inspection. MAPLE & CO.'S FURNISHING ESTABLISHMENT, the largest in the World. Acres of Show Rooms for the display of first-class Furniture, ready for immediate delivery. Novelties every day from all parts of the globe. No family ought to furnish before viewing this collection of household requisites, it being one of the sights in London. To Export Merchants an unusual advantage is offered. Having large space, all goods are packed on the premises by experienced packers. NEW ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE FREE DECORATIONS, Artistic Wall Papers. - Messrs. MAPLE & CO. undertake every description of ARTISTIC HOUSE DECORATION, including gasfitting, repairs, parquet work, &c. The head of this Department is a thoroughly qualified architect, assisted by a large staff of artists and skilled workmen. Coloured Drawings and Estimates furnished. MAPLE & CO. 400-DAY CLOCKS. MAPLE & CO. Dining-room CLOCKS. MAPLE & CO. Drawing-room CLOCKS. MAPLE & CO. - DRAWING-ROOM CLOCKS to go for 400 days with once winding; a handsome present. Price 70s., warranted. MAPLE & CO. have a large and varied assortment suitable for Dining and Drawing-room. Over 500 to select from. Prices from 10s. 9d. Handsome Marble Clock, with incised lines in gold, and superior eight-day movement, 23s. 6d.; also Bronzes in great variety. THE CLOCK, Bronze, and Ornamental China DEPARTMENT comprises a choice selection of Dresden, Sevres, Worcester, Derby, Coalport, Minton, Doulton, Hungarian and Oriental China. The largest and most varied collection in the world. - MAPLE & CO., London. 4 HEDGES & BUTLER'S WINE LIST. SPIRITS. Per Doz. PALE COGNAC BRANDY 44/-...48/-...60/-...72/-...84/- Champagne Brandy....... 84/- Liqueur Brandy(30 yrs. old) 120/- Brown Cognac ............ 48/-...60/-...72/- White Brandy .............. 84/- OLD SCOTCH WHISKEY, GLENLIVAT & HIGHLAND ...... 42/-...48/-...54/- OLD IRISH WHISKEY... 42/-...48/-...54/- OLD Scotch and Irish Whiskey in 13-gallon Casks, £13, £14. 10/-, £16. 10/- OLD Scotch and Irish Whiskey in 27-gallon Casks, £27, £30. 10/-, £34. 10/- American Bourbon Whiskey 54/- Jamaica Rum ........... 42/-...48/-...54/- White Rum ............... 60/- SWEET & UNSWEETENED GIN ................. 30/-...36/- Schiedam Hollands........... 36/- Apricot Brandy ................. 84/- Orange ,, ................. 72/- Ginger ,, .................. 60/- Dantzic Cherry Brandy... 72/-...84/- Copenhagen Cherry Brandy 72/- Spirits of Wine .................. 66/- LIQUEURS. Maraschino di Zara. Kümmel. Amsterdam Curaçao. White Curaçao. Kirschenwasser. Trappistine. Absinthe Suisse. Elixir de Spa. Chartreuse, Yellow. Ditto Green. Anisette de Bordeaux. Amsterdamsche Anisette. Bénédictine. Badminton Cup. Cherry Ratafia. Half en Half. Eau-di-Vie de Dantzic. Aqua d'Oro and Aqua d'Argento. Crême de Noyau (red and white). " Vanille. " Thé. Captain Jaques Punch. Old Milk Punch. Old Turtle Punch (as supplied to H.R.H. the Prince of Wales). Old Tokay. Apricot, Orange, and Ginger Brandy. Santa Maria de Jamaica. Angostura, Orange, and Dutch Bitters. HEDGES & BUTLER, Wince Shippers and Merchants, SPAIN : SHIPPING CELLARS AT JEREZ-DE-LA-FRONTERA. LONDON : CHIEF OFFICE AND CELLARS, 155 REGENT STREET. BRIGHTON : CELLARS, 30 KING'S ROAD. BONDED STORES, CRESCENT VAULT, LONDON DOCKS, E. Registered Telegraphic Address : HEDGES BUTLER. Telephone No. 3809. FOR WINES AND SPIRITS IN BOND SEE SPECIAL EXPORT LIST. THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. No. CII.––AUGUST 1885. 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' A REMINISCENCE. [IN the autumn of 1868 Mr. Tennyson and the Rev. Charles Pritchard–Savilian Professor of Astronomy–were guests together in my house. A good deal of talk arose on speculative subjects, especially theology, and in the course of it the idea was suggested of founding a Theological Society, to discuss such questions after the manner and with the freedom of an ordinary scientific society. I volunteered to endeavour to bring such a body together if Mr. Tennyson and Mr. Pritchard would promise to belong to it, and I then consulted other friends, beginning with Dean Stanley, Dean Alford, Archbishop Manning, the Rev. James Martineau, the Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol, Dr. Ward of the Dublin Review, Mr. R. H. Hutton of the Spectator, and one or two more, finding them all willing to join. I next went to 'the opposition,' and, explaining our plan, found Professor Huxley, Professor Tyndall, Mr. Froude, Mr. Walter Bagehot, Sir John Lubbock, and others equally ready to co-operate. The originally intended name of Theological Society was dropped in favour of 'Metaphysical Society,' under which full discussion of the largest range of topics from all points of view could be better insured, and on the 21st of April, 1869, we held our first meeting at Willis's Rooms. I remember Mr. Froude–who was among our first members– saying, that, if we hung together for twelve months, it would be one of the most remarkable facts in history. But we 'hung together' for nearly twelve years, meeting once a month, usually at an hotel, VOL. XVIII.––No. 102. N178 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. where, after dining together, a paper was read by some member, and afterwards discussed. Mr. Tennyson's remark at an early meeting seemed always borne in mind–that 'modern science ought, at any rate, to have taught us one thing–how to separate light from heat.' When the list of members and the character of the subjects discussed are considered, many will agree that it is matter for congratulation, and a pleasant sign of the times, that such a society should have lived its full life in London in entire harmony. It came to an end because, after twelve years of debating, there seemed little to be said which had not been repeated more than once. The members were as follows:–– Mr. Tennyson. Mr. Gladstone. The Duke of Argyll. Dean Stanley. Archbishop Manning. The Bishop of St. David's. The Archbishop of York. Prof. Huxley. The Bishop of Peterborough. Prof. Tyndall. Mr. Frederic Harrison. Lord Selborne. Prof. Clifford. Father Dalgairns. Sir James Stephen. Dr. Ward. The Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol. Dean Alford. The Dean of St. Paul's. Mr. Ruskin. Mr. Froude. Mr. Grant Duff. Mr. Robert Lowe. Rev. Prof. Maurice. Rev. Prof. Pritchard. Prof. Robertson. Sir Alexander Grant. Lord Arthur Russell. Rev. Canon Barry. Rev. James Martineau. Prof. Seeley. Mr. Walter Bagehot. Sir John Lubbock. Rev. Mark Pattison. Dr. Carpenter. Prof. Lushington. Mr. Shadworth Hodgson. Dr. Andrew Clark. Mr. Leslie Stephen. Mr. John Morley. Sir William Gull. Dr. Gasquet. Prof. Fraser. Mr. George Grove. Rev. Dr. Mozley. Mr. James Hinton. Prof. Sylvester. Dr. Bucknill. Prof. St. George Mivart. Prof. Barnes Upton. Mr. Henry Sidgwick. Mr. R. H. Hutton. Rev. Robert Clarke. Mr. W. R. Greg. Mr. Matthew Boulton. Mr. Frederick Pollock. Dr. Acland. Hon. Roden Noel. Mr. James Knowles. Amongst our Chairmen–appointed annually, but sometimes serving for two years successively–were Sir John Lubbock, Cardinal Manning, Professor Huxley, Mr. Gladstone, Dr. Ward, Dr. Martineau, Lord Selborne, and Lord Arthur Russell. 1885 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' 179 The character of the subjects brought forward may be gathered from the titles of some of the papers, and as the discussions were absolutely confidential and unreported, they were almost always of much animation and interest. They suggested to myself (as Hon. Sec. to the society) the idea of the 'Modern Symposium' which several times appeared in this Review. The following were amongst the papers read before the society :–– The Theory of Causation. The Theory of a Soul. Is God unknowable? What is Death? Will and Responsibility. The Scientific Basis of Morals. The Nature and Authority of Miracle. Has a Frog a Soul? On the words Nature, Natural, and Supernatural. The Ethics of Belief. What is Matter? The Soul before and after Death. What is a Lie? How do we come by our Knowledge? The Personality of God. The Verification of Beliefs. The Emotion of Conviction. Memory as an Intuitive Faculty. The Relation of Will to Thought. Matter and Force. The Absolute. The Nature of Things in Themselves. The Nature of the Moral Principle. The Evidence of the Miracle of the Resurrection. The Arguments for a Future Life. Hospitals for Incurables from a Moral Point of View. Double Truth. The subjoined article, kindly volunteered by Mr. Hutton, was suggested by him, not as a portrait of any actual meeting, but as a reminiscence of the sort of debate which used to go on. Its faithfulness is remarkable, except for the omission of his own valuable part in the discussion.––EDITOR Nineteenth Century.] THE following attempt to give an impression of a typical meeting of the once rather famous 'Metaphysical Society,' of which I was throughout a member, must not be regarded as in any sense containing a historical report of an individual debate. No such reports were, so N 2180 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. far as I know, ever taken. But to a rather diligent member of the Society there were plenty of opportunities of learning the general views of the more eminent members on such a subject as was discussed at the meeting here selected for treatment ; and though it is likely enough that none of them, except of course Dr. Ward, whose paper was really read (though he may have made no final reply), spoke on this particular occasion, as I have imputed to them ; and though several of those to whom I have attributed remarks may not have been present at this particular discussion at all, yet I do not think I shall be found to have misrepresented any of their views.[1] If I have, the responsibility and fault are mine. At the meeting of the Metaphysical Society which was held on the 10th of December, 1872, Dr. Ward was to read a paper on the question, 'Can experience prove the uniformity of Nature ?' Middlemarch had been completed and published a few days previously. On the day following the meeting the Convocation of Oxford was to vote upon the question raised by Mr. Burgon and Dean Goulburn, whether the Dean of Westminster (then Dr. Stanley) should beexclu ded [be excluded] for his heresies from the List of Select Preachers at Oxford or not. The 'Claimant' was still starring it in the provinces in the interval between his first trial and his second. Thus the dinner itself was lively, though several of the more distinguished members did not enter till the hour for reading the paper had arrived. One might have heard Professor Huxley flashing out a sceptical defence of the use of the Bible in Board Schools at one end of the table, Mr. Fitzjames Stephen's deep bass remarks on the Claimant's adroit use of his committal for perjury, at another, and an eager discussion of the various merits of Lydgate and Rosamond at a third. 'Ideal Ward,' as he used to be called, from the work on the 'Ideal of a Christian Church,' for which he had lost his degree nearly thirty years earlier at Oxford, was chuckling with a little malicious satisfaction over the floundering of the orthodox clergy, in their attempts to express safely their dislike of Dean Stanley's latitudinarianism, without bringing the Establishment about their ears. He thought we might as well expect the uniformity of Nature to be disproved by the efforts of spiritualists to turn a table, as the flood of latitudinarian thought to be arrested by Mr. Burgon's and Dean Goulburn's attempt to exclude the Dean of Westminster from the List of Select Preachers at Oxford. Father Dalgairns, one of Dr. Newman's immediate followers, who left the English Church and entered the Oratory of St. Philip Neri with him, a man of singular sweetness and openness of character, with something [*1: Whenever those views were actually given in the words here used, though occurring in the reading of other papers, I have always placed them in inverted commas. Whenever no inverted commas are used the words and thoughts are mine, though I believe them to represent faithfully the views of the speakers to whom they are attributed. ––R. H. H.*] 1885 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' 181 of a French type of playfulness in his expression, discoursed to me eloquently on the noble ethical character of George Eliot's novels, and the penetrating disbelief in all but human excellence by which they are pervaded. Implicitly he intended to convey to me, I thought, that nowhere but in the Roman Church could you find any real breakwater against an incredulity which could survive even the aspirations of so noble a nature as hers. And as I listened to this eloquent exposition with one ear, the sound of Professor Tyndall's eloquent Irish voice, descanting on the proposal for a 'prayer-gauge,' which had lately been made in the Contemporary Review, by testing the efficacy of prayer on a selected hospital ward, captivated the other. Everything alike spoke of the extraordinary fermentation of opinion in the society around us. Moral and intellectual 'yeast' was as hard at work multiplying its fungoid forms in the men who met at that table, as even in the period of the Renaissance itself. I was very much struck then, and frequently afterwards, by the marked difference between the expression of the Roman Catholic members of our Society and all the others. No men could be more different amongst themselves than Dr. Ward and Father Dalgairns and Archbishop Manning, all of them converts to the Roman Church. But, nevertheless, all had upon them that curious stamp of definite spiritual authority, which I have never noticed on any faces but those of Roman Catholics, and of Roman Catholics who have passed through a pretty long period of subjection to the authority they acknowledge. In the Metaphysical Society itself there was every type of spiritual and moral expression. The wistful and sanguine, I had almost said hectic idealism, of James Hinton struck me much more than anything he contrived to convey by his remarks. The noble and steadfast, but somewhat melancholy faith, which seemed to be sculptured on Dr. Martineau's massive brow, shaded off into wistfulness in the glance of his eyes. Professor Huxley, who always had a definite standard for every question which he regarded as discussable at all, yet made you feel that his slender definite creed in no respect represented the cravings of his large nature. Professor Tyndall's eloquent addresses frequently culminated with some pathetic indication of the mystery which to him surrounded the moral life. Mr. Fitzjames Stephen's gigantic force, expended generally in some work of iconoclasm, always gave me the impression that he was revenging himself on what he could not believe, for the disappointment he had felt in not being able to retain the beliefs of his youth. But in the countenances of our Roman Catholic members there was no wistfulness, –rather an expression which I might almost describe as a blending of grateful humility with involuntary satiety–genuine humility, genuine thankfulness for the authority on which they anchored themselves ; but something also of a feeling of the redundance of that authority, and of the redundance of those provisions for their spiritual life of which182 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. almost all our other members seemed to feel that they had but a bare and scanty pasturage. Dr. Ward, who was to read the paper of the evening, struck me as one of our most unique members. His mind was, to his own apprehension at least, all strong lights and dark shadows. Either he was absolutely, indefensibly, 'superabundantly' certain, or he knew no more 'than a baby,' to use his favourite simile, about the subjects I conversed with him upon. On the criticism of the New Testament, for instance, he always maintained that he knew no more than a baby, though really he knew a good deal about it. On the questions arising out of Papal Bulls he would often say that he was as absolutely and superabundantly certain as he was of his own existence. Then he was a very decided humourist. He looked like a country squire, and in the Isle of Wight was, I believe, generally called 'Squeer Ward,' but if you talked to him about horses or land, he would look at you as if you were talking in an unknown language, and would describe, in most extravagant and humorous terms, his many rides in search of health, and the profound fear with which, whenever the animal showed the least sign of spirit, he would cry out, 'Take me off ! take me off !' He was one of the very best and most active members of our Society, as long as his health lasted-- most friendly to everybody, though full of amazement at the depth to which scepticism had undermined the creed of many amongst us. A more candid man I never knew. He never ignored a difficulty, and never attempted to express an indistinct idea. His metaphysics were as sharp cut as crystals He never seemed to see the half-lights of a question at all. There was no penumbra in his mind; or, at least, what he could not grasp clearly, he treated as if he could not apprehend at all. When dinner was over and the cloth removed a waiter entered with sheets of foolscap and pens for each of the members, of which very little use was made. The ascetic Archbishop of Westminster, every nerve in his face expressive of some vivid feeling, entered, and was quickly followed by Dr. Martineau. Then came Mr. Hinton, glancing round the room with a modest half-humorous furtiveness, as he seated himself amongst us. Then Dr. Ward began his paper. He asked how mere experience could prove a universal truth without examining in detail every plausibly asserted exception to that truth, and disproving the reality of the exception. He asked whether those who believe most fervently in the uniformity of Nature ever show the slightest anxiety to examine asserted exceptions. He imagined, he said, that what impresses physicists is the fruitfulness of inductive science, with the reasonable inference that inductive science could not be the fruitful field of discovery it is, unless it rested on a legitimate basis, which basis could be no other than a principle of uniformity. Dr. Ward answered that the belief in 1885 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' 183 genuine exceptions to the law of uniform phenomenal antecedents and consequents, does not in the least degree invalidate this assumption of the general uniformity of Nature, if these exceptions are announced, as in the case of miracles they always must be, as demonstrating the interposition of some spiritual power which is not phenomenal, between the antecedent and its natural consequent, --which interposition it is that alone interrupts the order of phenomenal antecedence and consequence. 'Suppose,' he said, that 'every Englishman, by invoking St. Thomas of Canterbury, could put his hand into the fire without injury. Why, the very fact that in order to avoid injury he must invoke the saint's name, would ever keep fresh and firm in his mind the conviction that fire does naturally burn. He would therefore as unquestioningly in all his physical researches assume this to be the natural property of fire, as though God had never wrought a miracle at all. In fact, from the very circumstances of the case, it is always one of the most indubitable laws of nature which a miracle overrides, and those who wish most to magnify the miracle, are led by that very fact to dwell with special urgency on the otherwise universal prevalence of the law.' There was a short pause when Dr. Ward had concluded his paper, which was soon ended by Professor Huxley, who broke off short in a very graphic sketch he had been making on his sheet of foolscap as he listened. Dr. Ward, said Professor Huxley, had told us with perfect truth that the uniformity of Nature was only held by even the most thoroughgoing of clear-minded physicists, as a fruitful working hypothesis, the assumption of which had led to a vast number of discoveries, which could not have been effected without it. If they could not assume that under heat the vapour of water would expand one day as it had expanded the previous day, no locomotive would be of any use; if they could not assume that under certain given conditions the majority of seeds put into the ground would spring up and reproduce similar seed, no fields would be sown and no harvest would be reaped. In innumerable cases where the same antecedents had apparently not been followed by the same consequents, thinking men had taken for granted that they must have been mistaken in supposing the antecedents to be the same, and had found that they were right, and that the difference in the antecedents had really been followed by the difference in the consequents. He, for his part, should not object at all to examine into any presumptive case of miracle sufficiently strong to prove that in a substantial number of cases Englishmen had been enabled to thrust their hands into the fire without injury, by adopting so simple a safeguard as calling St. Thomas of Canterbury. But the truth was, that asserted miracles were too sparse and rare, and too uniformly accompanied by indications of either gross credulity or bad faith, to furnish an investigator jealous of his time, and184 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. not able to waste his strength on futile inquiries, with a sufficient basis for investigation. Men of science were too busy in their fruitful vocation to hunt up the true explanation of cases of arrested miracle, complicated as they generally were with all sorts of violent prepossessions and confusing emotions. He, for his part, did not pretend that the physical uniformity of Nature could be absolutely proved. He was content to know that his 'working hypothesis' had been proved to be invaluable by the test of innumerable discoveries, which could never have been made had not that working hypothesis been assumed. Indeed, what evidence has any man even for the existence of his own home and family, better than that of a fruitful hypothesis, which has time after time resulted in the expected verification? No man can be absolutely certain that the home he left an hour ago is standing where it did, or that the family he left in it are still in life; still, if he acts in the hypothesis that they are there, he will, in innumerable cases, be rewarded for making that assumption, by finding his expectations verified, and in but a very few cases indeed be disappointed. If, then, Dr. Ward asks, said Professor Huxley, whether or not I hold that experience can, in a mathematical sense, prove the uniformity of Nature, I answer that I do not believe it ; that I believe only that, in the assumption of that uniformity of Nature, we have a working hypothesis of the most potent kind, which I have never found to fail me. But further, if I might use the word 'believe' loosely, though with much less looseness than that with which men who are not students of science habitually use it, I should not hesitate to avow a belief that the uniformity of Nature is proved by experience, for I should be only too glad to think that half the 'demonstrated' beliefs of metaphysicians are even a tenth part as trustworthy as the great working hypothesis of science. The man of science, however, 'who commits himself to even one statement which turns out to be devoid of good foundation, loses somewhat of his reputation among his fellows, and if he is guilty of the same error often he loses not only his intellectual but his moral standing among them; for it is justly felt that errors of this kind have their root rather in the moral than in the intellectual nature.' That, I suppose, is the reason why men of science are so chary of investigating the trustworthiness of the soi-disant miracles to which Dr. Ward is so anxious that we should pay an attention much greater than any which in my opinion they deserve. For the scientific man justly fears that if he investigates them thoroughly, he shall wound many amiable men's hearts, and that if he does not wound amiable men's hearts he shall compromise his own character as a man of science. As Professor Huxley's rich and resonant voice died away, Father Dalgairns, after looking modestly round to see whether anyone else desired to speak, began in tones of great sweetness: Professor 1885 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' 185 Huxley has implied that to the scientific student the words 'I believe' have a stricter and more binding force than they have to us theologians. If it really be so, it is very much to our shame, for no words can be conceived which are to us more solemn and more charged with moral obligation. But I confess that the drift of Professor Huxley's remarks hardly bore out to my mind the burden of his peroration. It seems that 'a working hypothesis' is the modest phrase which represents even the maximum of scientific belief, for would Professor Huxley admit that he has any belief, except of course one resting on an immediately present consciousness, deeper than his belief in the uniformity of Nature ? I suppose not. Now theologians are accustomed to assert, and I think with justice, that it is impossible to entertain any belief--whether it be only a working hypothesis or something more--in the uniformity of Nature, without basing it on the irrefragable trustworthiness of the human faculties. In one of our earliest discussions Dr. Ward proved his case that on the irrefragable trustworthiness of memory, for example, for all facts which it positively asserts, rests the whole structure of human knowledge; and this in a sense much deeper than any such expression as 'working hypothesis' will express. Without assuming this irrefragable trustworthiness, Dr. Ward has reminded us that I could not now know that I am replying to Professor Huxley at all, or indeed who I myself am, or who is Professor Huxley. Without absolutely assuming the trustworthiness of memory, how should I have the least glimmering of a conception of that expressive personality from whose mouth the weighty utterances we have just heard proceeded? Yet if you grant me the trustworthiness of memory, when it speaks positively of a recent experience, can you deny me the trustworthiness of other human faculties equally fundamental? Is my 'belief' in the distinction between right and wrong, between holiness and sin, any less trustworthy than my belief in the asseverations of my memory ? Did not Professor Huxley himself suggest in his closing remarks that the moral roots of our nature strike deeper than the intellectual roots ; in other words, that if memory be much more than a 'working hypothesis,' if its trustworthiness be the condition without which no working hypothesis would be even possible, there are moral conditions of our nature quite as fundamental as even the trustworthiness of memory itself? I hold it, I confess, most irrational to have an absolute and undoubting belief in the uniformity of Nature based on any accumulation of experience, for no such accumulation of experience is possible at all without an absolute and undoubting belief in the Past, and this no merely present experience can possibly give us. And I hold such a belief in the uniformity of Nature, based on anything but the trustworthiness of our faculties, to be irrational, for precisely the same kind of reason for which I hold it to be irrational to question the belief in God.186 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. The solemnity which Professor Huxley attaches to the words 'I believe,' I attach to them also. Moreover, I could not use them in their fullest sense of anything which I regard merely as a 'working hypothesis,' however fruitful. But I deny that we theologians regard our deepest creed as a working hypothesis at all. We accept the words 'I believe in God,' as we accept the words 'I believe in the absolute attestations of memory,' as simply forced upon us by a higher intuition than any inductive law can engender. When I say 'I believe in God,' I use the word believe just as I use it when I say 'I believe in moral obligation,' and when I say 'I believe in moral obligation,' I use the word believe just as I do when I say 'I believe in the attestations of memory.' 'God is not necessary only to my conception of morality. His existence is necessary to the existence of obligation.' I know God by 'a combination of intuition and experience, which is Kant's condition of knowledge. If there be a God, our imagination would present Him to us as inflicting pain on the violator of His law, and lo ! the imagination turns out to be an experienced fact. The Unknowable suddenly stabs me to the heart.' I believe in the uniformity of Nature only in the sense in which I believe in every other high probability--for instance, only in the sense in which I believe that the sun will rise to-morrow. I believe in God in the sense in which I believe in pain and pleasure in space and time, in right and wrong, in myself, in that which curbs me, governs me, besets me behind and before, and lays its hand upon me. The uniformity of Nature, though a very useful working hypothesis, is, as Professor Huxley admits, unproved and unproveable as a final truth of reason. But 'if I do not know God, then I know nothing whatsoever,' for if 'the pillared pavement is rottenness,' then surely also is 'earth's base built on stubble.' There was a certain perceptible reluctance to follow Father Dalgairns, which lasted some couple of minutes. Then we heard a deep-toned, musical voice, which dwelt with slow emphasis on the most important words of each sentence, and which gave a singular force to the irony with which the speaker's expressions of belief were freely mingled. It was Mr. Ruskin. 'The question,' he said, 'Can experience prove the uniformity of Nature? is, in my mind, so assuredly answerable with the negative which the writer appeared to desire, that precisely on that ground the performance of any so-called miracles whatever would be really unimpressive to me. If a second Joshua to-morrow commanded the sun to stand still, and it obeyed him, and he therefore claimed deference as a miracle-worker, I am afraid I should answer, "What ! a miracle that the sun stands still ?--not at all. I was always expecting it would. The only wonder to me was its going on." But even assuming the demonstrable uniformity of the laws or customs of Nature which are known to us, it remains to me a difficult question what measure of 1885 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' 187 interference with such law or custom we might logically hold miraculous, and what, on the contrary, we should treat only as proof of the existence of some other law hitherto undiscovered. For instance, there is a case authenticated by the signatures of several leading physicians in Paris, in which a peasant girl, under certain conditions of morbid excitement, was able to move objects at some distance from her without touching them. Taking the evidence for what it may be worth, the discovery of such faculty would only, I suppose, justify us in concluding that some new vital energy was developing itself under the conditions of modern life, and not that any interference with the laws of Nature had taken place. Yet the generally obstinate refusal of men of science to receive any verbal witness of such facts, is a proof that they believe them contrary to a code of law which is more or less complete in their experience, and altogether complete in their conception ; and I think it is therefore the province of some one of our scientific members to lay down for us the true principle by which we may distinguish the miraculous violation of a know law from the natural discovery of an unknown one.' 'However,' he proceeded, 'the two main facts we have to deal with are that the historical record of miracle is always of inconstant power, and that our own actual energies are inconstant almost in exact proportion to their worthiness. First, I say the history of miracle is of inconstant power. St. Paul raises Eutychus from death, and his garments effect miraculous cure, yet he leaves Trophimus sick at Miletus, recognises only the mercy of God in the recovery of Epaphroditus, and, like any uninspired physician, recommends Timothy wine for his infirmities. And in the second place, our own energies are inconstant almost in proportion to their nobleness. We breathe with regularity, and can count upon the strength necessary for common tasks, but the record of our best work and our happiest moments is always one of success which we did not expect, and of enthusiasm which we could not prolong.' As Mr. Ruskin ceased, Walter Bagehot, the then editor of the Economist, and a favourite amongst us for his literary brilliance, opened his wide black eyes, and gulping down what seemed to be an inclination to laugh at some recollection of his own, said: Mr. Ruskin's remark that he had always been expecting the sun to stand still was to me peculiarly interesting, because, as I have formerly told the Society, whatever may be the grounds for assuming the uniformity of Nature, I hold that there is nothing which the natural mind of man, unless subjected to a very serious discipline for the express purpose of producing that belief, is less likely to assume. A year or two ago I ventured to express in this room the opinion that credulity is the natural condition of almost every man. 'Every child,' I said, 'believes what the footman tells it, what the nurse tells it, and what its mother tells it, and probably everyone's memory will188 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. carry him back to the horrid mass of miscellaneous confusion which he acquired by believing all he heard.' I hold that children believe in the suggestions of their imaginations quite as confidently as they believe in the asserverations of their memories; and if grown-up men do not, it is only that their credulity has been battered out of them by the hard discipline of constant disappointment. What can be better evidence that there is at least no a priori belief in the uniformity of Nature than the delight in fairy tales, which, certainly in childhood, are accepted with quite as much private belief that some great enchanter's wand will be triumphantly found at last, as are the dullest and most matter-of-fact of histories. Indeed, you will find in almost every young person of any promise the profoundest tendency to revolt against the law of uniform succession as too dull to be credible, and to exult in the occasional evidence which the history of their time affords that 'truth after all is stranger than fiction.' Is not the early love of tales of marvel, and the later love of tales of wild adventure and hair-breadth escapes, and again, the deep pleasure which we all feel in that 'poetic justice' which is so rare in actual experience, a sufficient proof that men retain, even to the last, a keen prepossession against the doctrine that laws of uniform antecedency and consequence can be traced throughout the most interesting phases of human life ? Even in the City, where so many hopes are crushed every day, the 'Bull' goes on believing in his own too sanguine expectations, and the 'Bear' in his own dismal predictions, without correcting his own bias as experience should have led him to correct it. I believe it will be found that nothing is more difficult than to beat into the majority of minds the belief that there is such a thing as a 'law of nature' at all. So far as I can judge, nine women out of ten have never adequately realised what a law of nature means, nor is the proportion much smaller for men, unless they have been well drilled in some department of physics. Of course I heartily agree with Dr. Ward that experience cannot prove the uniformity of Nature, and for this very good reason, amongst others, that it is impossible to say what the uniformity of Nature means. We cannot exhaust the number of interfering causes which may break that uniformity. I at least cannot doubt that, so far as mind influences matter, there may be a vast multitude of real disturbing causes introduced by mind to break through those laws of uniformity in material things, of which at present we know only the elements. But of this I am very sure, that at present we are much apter to accept superficial and inadequate evidence of the breach of laws of uniformity than we ought to be ; that education does not do half enough to beat out of our minds that credulous expectation that there is some disposition in the governing principles of the universe, either to favour us or to persecute us, as the case may be, which springs, not from experience, but from groundless prejudice and prepossession; and that much greater efforts should be 1885 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' 189 made to set before young people the true inexorability of Nature's laws than is actually made at present. It is quite true that no man can say positively either that the sun will rise to-morrow, or that an iron bar will fall to the ground if the hand drops it. We do not absolutely know that the sun may not blaze up and go out before to-morrow, as it is said that some stars of considerable magnitude have blazed up and gone out. We do not know that there may not be some enormously powerful and invisible magnet in the neighbourhood which will attract the iron bar upwards with more force than that with which the earth pulls it downwards. But we do know that in millions and billions of cases expectations founded on the same sort of evidence as the expectation that the sun will rise to-morrow, and that the dropped bar will fall to the earth have been verified, and that the imaginative illusion which half-educated people still so often indulge, that exceptions will occur, for the occurrence of which there is not rational evidence is a most mischievous one, which we ought to try to eradicate. We ought to engage what I have ventured in this Society to call the 'emotion of conviction,' the caprices of which are so extravagant and so dangerous, much more seriously on the side of the uniformity of Nature than we have ever hitherto done. We should all try to distinguish more carefully than we do between possibility, probability, and certainty. It is not as certain that the sun will rise to-morrow as it is that I was cold before I entered this room ; it is not as certain that Messrs. Baring's acceptances will be paid, as it is that the sun will rise to-morrow; it is not as certain that Peel's Act will always be suspended in a panic, as it is that Messrs. Baring's acceptances will be paid. And it is difficult for 'such creatures as we are' to accommodate our expectations to these varying degrees of reasonable evidence. But though experience, however long and cumulative, can never prove the absolute uniformity of Nature, it surely ought to train us to bring our expectations into something like consistency with the uniformity of Nature. And as I endeavour to effect this in my own mind I certainly cannot agree with Mr. Ruskin that I have always been 'expecting' the sun to stand still. Probably as a child I was always expecting things quite as improbably as that. But if I expected them now I should not have profited as much by the disillusionising character of my experiences as I endeavour to hope that I actually have. There was a general smile as Bagehot ceased, but the smile ceased as Mr. Fitzjames Stephen--the present Sir James Stephen--took up the discussion by remarking, in the mighty bass that always exerted a sort of physical authority over us, that while the Society seemed to be pretty well agreed upon the main question, namely, that the uniformity of Nature could not be absolutely proved by experience, or, indeed, by any other method, there was a point in Dr. Ward's paper, namely, the challenge to examine seriously into the190 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. authenticity of miracles, which had not been dealt with. For my part, he said, I am quite ready to examine into the evidence of any so-called miracle, that is, into the evidence of any unusual event which is offered to prove Divine interference in our affairs, when it comes before me with sufficient presumption of authority to render it worth my while to investigate it; though I probably should not agree with Dr. Ward as to what constitutes such a presumption. Certainly 'a bare uncorroborated assertion by a person professing to be an eye-witness of an event is not sufficient evidence of that event to warrant action of an important kind based upon the supposition of its occurrence. When you are obliged to guess, such an assertion may be a reason for making one guess rather than another. Less evidence than this would make a banker hesitate as to a person's credit, or would lead a customer to doubt whether his banker was solvent; but in such cases all that is possible is a guess more or less judicious, and a guess, however judicious, is a totally different thing from settled rational belief. As regards all detailed matters of fact, I think there is a time, greater or less, during which the evidence connected with them may be collected, examined, and recorded. If this is done a judgment can be formed on the truth of allegations respecting them at any distance of time. Such judgments are rarely absolute; they ought always or nearly always be tempered by some degree of doubt, but I do not think they need be affected by lapse of time. If, however, this opportunity is lost, if no complete examination is made at the time of an incident, or if being made it is not properly or fully recorded, clouds of darkness which can never be dispelled settle down upon it almost immediately. All that remains behind is an indistinct outline which can never be filled up. Under certain conditions rare occurrences are quite as probable as common ones. The main condition of the probability of such an event is that the rare occurrence should, from its nature and from the circumstances under which it occurs, be capable of being observed, and that the evidence of it should be recorded in the manner which I have already described. If a moa were caught alive and publicly exhibited for money, or if the body of a sea-serpent were to be cut up upon the coast and duly examined by competent naturalists, the existence of moas and sea-serpents could be proved beyond all reasonable doubt. The reason why their existence is disbelieved or doubted is not that they are seen, if at all, so seldom, but because in each particular instance they are seen, if at all, in such an unsatisfactory way that it is doubtful whether they were ever seen. There are innumerable ghost-stories in circulation, but as far as I know no instance has ever yet been even alleged to exist in which the existence of a ghost had been properly authenticated as readily and as conclusively as that of any other being whatever. Stories of the interference of unseen agents stand upon exactly the same footing, speaking generally. Isolated instances occur in all ages and countries, but 1885 'THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY.' 191 the common characteristic of them all is to be unauthenticated. Ten cases distinctly proved under the conditions referred to . . . would do more to settle the question of the existence of miracles as a class than innumerable cases depending on assertions which were not properly examined when they were originally made, and which can now never be examined. On the other hand, what reason can possibly be suggested why the action of an invisible person upon matter should not be ascertained just as clearly as the action of a visible person? The restoration of a dead body to life might, if it occurred, be proved as conclusively and as notoriously as the death of a living person, or the birth of a child. If such events formed a real class to which new occurrences would be, so to speak, upon record, established beyond all doubt, and the very existence of the controversy shows that nothing of the sort exists.' Hereupon the Archbishop of Westminster, looking at Mr. Stephen with a benign smile, said: Mr. Stephen's investigations into the evidence of the interference of unseen agents in human affairs are hardly on a par with some of those undertaken by the Church to which I belong. In canonising, or even beatifying those who are lost to us, the Holy See has long been accustomed to go into the evidence of such events as those to which Mr. Stephen has just referred, and that with a disposition to pick holes in the evidence, which, if he will allow me to say so, could hardly be surpassed even by so able a sifter of evidence as Mr. Stephen himself. Nor is it indeed necessary to go into the archives of these laborious and most sceptically conducted investigations. If there were but that predisposition amongst Protestants tom believe in the evidence of the unseen which Dr. Ward desired to see, there would, I am convinced, be many believers in miracles of the most astounding kind, and of miracles that have happened in our own time, many within the last year. Let those who choose, for instance, look into the evidence of the most astonishing cure of varicose veins which took place only last year in the south of France--a malady of thirty years' standing, and of steady progress throughout that time, attested on the positive evidence of French physicians, who had themselves repeatedly seen and prescribed for the patient. Yet they admitted that all they could do would be at most to alleviate his sufferings by the application of mechanical pressure--and they nevertheless declared the cure to have been effected in a single night, the only new condition having been the believing application of the Lourdes water to the body of the sufferer. Here is a case where all Mr. Fitzjames Stephen's conditions are satisfied to the full. I do not, however, apprehend that Mr. Stephen will sift the evidence, or even regard it as worth his serious attention. He has hardly assigned sufficient force to that strong predisposition to incredulity which is so widely spread at this moment in192 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. the Protestant world, a predisposition which I cannot entirely reconcile with Mr. Bagehot's very striking remarks on the universal credulousness of the natural man. Perhaps, however, there may be such credulousness where there is no prejudice, and yet incredulity still more marked where there is. I have been a careful observer of the attitude of Protestants in relation to the controversy between the natural and supernatural. I have seen its growth. I have watched its development. I am persuaded that Mr. Stephen is quite wrong in supposing that the matter can be settled as one of evidence alone. You must first overcome that violent prejudice in your minds which prevents you from vouchsafing even a glance at the evidence we should have to offer you. But I will, if the Society permits me, leave that part of the subject, and return to the principal question before us–the impossibility of proving the uniformity of Nature from experience alone. Now, how do we Catholic, who have a philosophy the value of which we imagine that you believers in Spencer and Mill and Bain greatly underrate, account for the uniformity of Nature without trenching in any way on the supernatural basis of that Nature? I will show you. Aquinas says that in his Summa–and the Archbishop, of course, pronounced his Latin in the Continental manner–'Tota irrationalis natura comparatur ad Deum sicut instrumentum ad agens principale ;'–the whole of inanimate and irrational Nature bears to the Divine being the relation of an instrument to the principal agent. That is to say, the Divine intellect conceives the law which the Divine will sanctions and enforces by a great methodical instrument. The natura naturans make use of the natura naturata. The law determines the instrument it is to use, and the instrument it is to use determines the world. Why, then, should the law be regular and not variable? Why, because it is the instrument of a being who is not variable. The Schoolmen tell us that Nature has an appetite, a desire to accomplish its ends. They say of Nature 'appetit,' 'desiderat.' Such are the phrases they use. And as no constant aim, no true development can be attained by capricious, inconsistent, inconsequent action, by instruments incoherent, part with part–for the gratification of Nature's appetite, for the fulfilment of her desire, and the attainment of her purpose, a constancy and fixity of method are essential which are never interrupted, save where the Divine power modifies the instrument for its own good purpose. Thus the uniformity of Nature is based upon the wisdom of God, and the wisdom of God is manifested in the uniformity of Nature. St. Thomas had said: 'Proprium est naturæ rationalis ut tendat in finem quasi se agens et ducens ad finem.' And again: 'Necessitas naturalis inhærens rebus, quâ determinantur ad unum, est impressio quædam Dei dirigentis ad finem, sicut necessitas quâ sagitta agitur ut ad certum signum tendat, est impressio sagittantis et non sagittæ;' that is, the necessity, or may we not say the uniformity of 1885 THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY. 193 Nature, is a career impressed upon it by the Divine archer, who never misses his mark; it is not the arrow which determines that career, but the archer who points and who dismisses the arrow in its flight. But St. Thomas goes on: 'Sed in hoc differt, quod id quod creaturæ a Deo recipiunt est earum natura, quod autem ab homine rebus naturalibus imprimitur præter earum naturam ad violentiam pertinet.' Dr. Ward will correct me if I am wrong, but I interpret this as meaning that if what men engraft on lower creatures is spoken of by the angelic doctor as doing them a certain violence, altering, I suppose, their mere involuntary qualities by infecting them with a certain human purposiveness not their own, how much more is it evidently open to the Divine purpose to engraft on this uniformity of nature a supernatural bent of its own, to open it, as it were, to the power of miracle, to infuse it with the significance of revelation? Dr. Ward, I thought, winced a little when this appeal was made to him; whether it was that he differed with the Archbishop as to the drift of the passage quoted, or whether he regarded the Society as in general too little educated in philosophy to appreciate arguments derived from the teaching of St. Thomas. As the Archbishop ceased a good many eyes were turned upon Dr. Martineau, as if we had now got into a region where no less weighty a thinker would be adequate to the occasion. I think, said Dr. Martineau, speaking with a singularly perfect elocution, and giving to all his consonants that distinct sound which is so rare in conversational speech, I think that the course of this discussion has as yet hardly done justice to the à priori elements in human thought which have contributed to the discovery of the general uniformity of Nature, and to the axiomatic character of the principle which we are discussing. I should not entirely agree with the Archbishop or with St. Thomas if I rightly apprehended the quotations from him, that we ought to ground our belief on the uniformity of Nature primarily on our belief in the constancy of the Divine mind. Historically, I doubt whether that could be maintained. For example, the Hebrew Scriptures, which are full of the praise of the moral constancy of the Creator, appear to attach very little importance to the uniformity of Nature's methods, which they often treat as if they were as pliant as language itself to the formative thought behind it. Still less can I agree with Mr. Bagehot's view that everything which rushes into the mind is believed without hesitation till hard experience scourges us into scepticism. I should say rather that the understanding is prepared to accept uniform laws of causation by the very character of human reason itself. It is remarkable enough that Aristotle fully recognises the close connection between the necessary character of human inference and the necessary relation of cause with effect, that he treats the 'beginning of change' [?] as either the cause which VOL. XVIII.–NO. 102. O194 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. necessarily results in an effect, or the reason which necessarily results in an inference. 'An efficient cause therefore may be found in any beginning of change either in the physical world or the logical. In both cases it has the same characteristics: necessity, whether in the form of inevitable sequence or in that of irresistible inference; and consecutive advance, a step at a time, along a determinate line, whether in outward nature or in inward thought. Whatever is, it either acts out or thinks out what is next. So far therefore as the universe is at the disposal of efficient causes, its condition at each moment results purely from the immediately prior, without the possibility of any new beginning. If an experienced observer could compress into a formula the law of all simultaneous conditions, he would be able to foresee the contents of any future moment––not, however, to modify them, for his prescience depends on their being in themselves determinate, and on his calculations embracing all the elements of the problem, including the states of his own mind. This efficient causality can be denied by no one who admits the dynamic idea at all; and no phenomenon can dispense with it.' Here we have, as I conceive, the clue to the principle of the uniformity of Nature. So far as Nature is purely dynamic, and so far as force is measured by reason, we cannot stray from the rigid logic of fact, and the equally rigid logic of thought. Doubtless it will be replied that, as in the mind of man there is a free spring of force, which is as yet undetermined, which is potential and not actual force, so there is behind Nature a free spring of force which is as yet undetermined, which is potential and not actual nature––in short, a power above nature, and capable of modifying it; in other words, supernatural. And that doctrine I should heartily accept. The uniformity of Nature is the uniformity of force, just as the uniformity of reasoning is the uniformity of thought. But just as the indeterminateness of creative will stands behind the determinateness of the orbit of force, so the indeterminateness of creative purpose stands behind the determinateness of the orbit of thought or inference. I hold that man is not wholly immersed in dynamic laws, that though our physical constitution is subject to them, our mental constitution rises above them into a world where free self-determination is possible. I do not wonder, therefore, that we find it difficult to realise the rigidity of the laws of efficient causation even so far as it would be good for us to realise them. But I cannot think that anyone who has once contracted the habit of even fixing his own attention, can doubt for a moment that cause and effect are connected together by efficient links, nor that, if force outside us means the same thing as force inside us, the relation of cause and effect is as necessary–– unless some higher power interfere to modify the cause––as the relation of premisses to conclusion. With regard to Dr. Ward's invitation to us to examine more carefully the credentials of miracle, I am inclined to agree with Mr. Stephen, that if there were any 1885 THE METAPHYSICAL SOCIETY. 195 tangible number of incontrovertible miracles, there could be no controversy on the question whether or not such things can be. But then I should not apply that remark to any case of internal consciousness of supernatural influence, because, from the very circumstances of the case, the evidence of the existence of such influence cannot be open to any mind, except that which is the subject of it, and in my view it is quite unreasonable to deny that there are indirect but yet conclusive proofs in history, that such supernatural influences have transformed, and do still habitually transform, the characters of the very greatest of our race. But it is one thing to see the evidence of spiritual influence in every page of human history, and quite another to attach importance to such preternatural occurrences as the Archbishop has recently referred to, which are usually so mixed up with superstitions of all kinds, and so great a variety of hysterical emotions, that I for one should despair of any good result from investigating minutely these curious conquests effected by pretentious physical marvels over the gaping intellectual credulity of moral coldness and disbelief. Here the general discussion ended, but Dr. Ward, who had the right of reply, exercised it with alertness and vigour. I cannot understand, he said, Dr. Martineau's position, that because the best testimony which we have in modern times to the interference of Divine power in the chain of physical causation is more or less mixed up with what he would regard as superstition and hysterical emotion, therefore it is perfectly justifiable to leave such matters uninvestigated, and to pass by on the other side. Surely the whole character of modern civilisation would be altered if we could prove satisfactorily for ordinary minds that the Divine will is a true cause, which manifests itself habitually to those who humbly receive the Divine revelations. Is not Dr. Newman's celebrated assertion that England would be in a far more hopeful condition if it were far more superstitious, more bigoted, more disposed to quail beneath the stings of conscience, and to do penance for its sins, than it is, at least plausible for one who, like Dr. Martineau, believes profoundly that the true worship of a righteous will is at the highest end of all human life? Can anything be more superabundantly evident, more conspicuously and, so to say, oppressively clear, than that ninety-nine men out of every hundred live as if God were at most nothing more than a remote probability, which it is hardly worth while to take into account in the ordinary routine of life? Suppose, if you please, that the majority of men by studying the Lourdes miracles will be brought, if they are convinced at all, to burn an immense number of wax tapers to the holy Virgin, and to dress up a number of very gaudy dolls in the churches dedicated to her, by way of showing their gratitude to her for curing paralytics and other miserable sufferers by the application of Lourdes water. Is that so much more supersti- [*o 2*]196 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. tious after all than attributing similar cures to the transit of St. Peter's shadow, or to handkerchiefs taken from St. Paul's body, as the author of the Acts of the Apostles certainly did? Nor, indeed, is it a matter of the very highest moment whether people show their faith foolishly or whether it overshoots the mark, and attributes imaginary effects to a real cause. What is a matter of the highest moment is whether or not they feel or do not feel their religious faith in every action of their life. If God is really ruling you, is it not better to feel His eye upon you, even though you show your sense of that vigilance unreason- ably and foolishly, than to live on very much as you would do, if, as Isaiah said, God were on a journey or had gone to sleep? Can anyone deny that any awakening, however rude its consequences, to the reality of Divine power, would be infinitely better than the rapidly growing habit of living as if behind Nature there were no God? I do not of course say this to any member of our Society who doubts the reality of God's government, but only to those who, with Dr. Martineau, regard it as the very first of all truths. But to them I say, if miracles still exist, if they still exist in the very form in which they are said to have existed in the Acts of the Apostles, if they can be attested by men of science themselves, if, in any Church, they happen not merely every year, but in considerable numbers every year, and admit of all the tests to which Mr. Stephen has referred us, then surely it can be nothing but a most reprehensible and guilty fastidiousness to give the go-by to the evidence of these things, simply on the ground that they are mixed up with a great deal of vulgar taste and of hysterical feeling. Is it not better to have a vulgar belief in God, than to have a fine susceptibility to scientific methods? Is it not better to have a feverish longing to do His will, than to have a delicate distaste for morbid devotion? The uniformity of Nature is the veil behind which, in these latter days, God is hidden from us. I believe in the uniformity of Nature, but I believe in it far more fervently as the background on which miracle is dis- played, than I do merely as the fertile instrument of scientific discovery and of physical amelioration. R. H. HUTTON. 1885 197 A DEFENCE OF DEER FORESTS. AMONG the many changes in the economical conditions of Scotland which have occurred during the past half-century there are few so remarkable as the large conversion of mountain land from sheep grazings to deer forests. It is not intended in the present article to give any detailed history of this change, or to furnish statistics which, though interesting in themselves, would be foreign to the purpose in hand, viz. to endeavour to meet objections which have been raised on grounds varying according to the sources from which they originate and the classes to whom they are specially addressed. Suffice it here to say that among the operative causes which have brought about the change referred to the following may be safely included: an increasing love of sport and a higher appreciation of wild scenery; improved communication, affording access to regions hitherto almost unexplored; accumulation of wealth among the trading and commercial classes; and, last, not least, the genius of Sir Edwin Landseer, whose unrivalled pictures and sketches representing the habits and aspect of red deer in their wild state have familiarised us with each ever-changing phase of forest life. To whatever extent these circumstances may have, together or severally, contributed to the extension of deer forests, the fact is that for every acre of mountain land so employed in 1840, there are at least ten in the present year, the result being that, of the total area in the Highlands which could be profitably afforested, by far the larger portion has been already cleared of sheep. If this be so, we have, on the threshold of our inquiry, disposed of one objection to the system of deer forests - namely, its possible indefinite extension. It will be asked what is meant by 'profitably afforesting;' and what guarantee can be given that the whole mountainous portions of Scotland, down even to the borders of England, may not, in the absence of any check, legislative or otherwise, be converted into deer forests. To reply to this query would be to anticipate arguments which it is proposed to adduce hereafter. In the meantime let us return to our sheep, and follow the history of their displacement by deer. From the year 1840 down to quite recent times, little notice was taken of the gradual extension of deer forests; an occasional grumble might have been heard, but it died away under the pressure of some other popular198 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. cry or more widely felt grievance. A certain amount of hostile feeling, not unnatural at the time, was also shown by the sheep-farming interest, which then was in the zenith of its prosperity. Public attention was languidly aroused by the reference to this subject in the Report of the Game Law Committee of 1873, but no serious attack on the system followed. Two circumstances, however, have recently brought deer forests more prominently into notice― first the agitation among the crofters, and secondly the enormous area which has been cleared of sheep and consolidated by one individual. It is true that a certain number of persons, of whom ex-Professor Blackie may be taken as a specimen, have for many years been in the habit of never losing a chance of ridiculing deer forests and all who are concerned with them. But these people were listened to with precisely the same amusement and interest as was bestowed on that most delightful story of the Tommiebeg shootings. According to the ex-Professor, every English sportsman is an exaggerated cockney ; every lessee of a deer forest, a Mr. Fribbles. Landlords and factors conspire against everyone else, the latter screwing as much rent as possible out of the sporting tenant, while the former recklessly spend the money so obtained in the frivolous amusements of foreign capitals. The variety of illustration, the raciness of his style, certainly contrasts strongly with the ponderous attempts of less humorous and cultivated assailants to bring ridicule upon the system to which they are opposed; but it is, at the best, a succès d'estime, and, had it not been for the two causes above mentioned, the ex-Professor might have continued this javelin warfare for the remainder of his life without seriously injuring those interested in deer forests or making it worth their while attempting a defence. But, in connection with the crofter agitation, deer forests have attracted the attention of a very different class of men from those who composed Professor Blackie's audiences on the various festive occasions when he was 'trotted out ;' and it must be admitted that the owners of deer forests have no right to complain that a defence of some kind or other is now expected from them. If they are silent, either from timidity or idleness, or in the vain hope that the storm will somehow blow over, it will assuredly be said, 'These people cannot have a strong case―they do not defend themselves as other classes do when they are attacked. They are silent―it is the silence of self-condemnation. Away with them and their deer forests !' Now believing, as I do, first that a case can be made out in favour of deer forests as they now exist in the Highlands―with, perhaps, even a partial extension―so strong that it is practically unanswerable, and based on grounds both economical and sentimental; and secondly, that public opinion is not so utterly demoralised as to continue obstinate in its hostility to a system which is indisputably shown to be beneficial to all classes of the community, I will, without 1885 A DEFENCE OF DEER FORESTS. 199 without further preface, proceed to state the grounds on which that belief is founded. Deer forests have already formed the subject of a public inquiry on two occasions―first, by the Select Committee on the Game Laws in 1872-73, and subsequently by the Royal Commission appointed to report on the condition of the crofters in 1883. Having been a member of both these bodies, it has been my fortune to hear all the evidence which could be brought to bear on both sides of the question. The reports of both the Select Committee and the Royal Commission are, of course, public property, and it is therefore not necessary at present to do more than recommend their careful perusal to those who wish to inform themselves on the subject and refer to the general conclusions arrived at and the grounds on which they were based. The committee consisted of twenty-one members selected from all parties in the House of Commons. During the taking of evidence strenuous efforts were made by the opponents of deer forests to make good their contention by the testimony of witnesses who were chiefly concerned in proving that deer forests diminish the food supply of the nation, and that their creation had necessitated the removal from comfortable homes of many small and industrious tenants; but the unanimous conclusion arrived at by the twenty-one members of the committee was that 'the evidence submitted to them did not bear out either of the allegations that deer forests tended to the depopulation of the country, or that, by displacement of sheep by deer, the food supply of the nation has been diminished.' The inquiry instituted by the Crofters Commission was more exhaustive, and if anyone will take the trouble to read the evidence as well as the report, he will observe that a majority of the members of the Commission seemed to sympathise with the opponents rather than with the advocates of deer forests. Yet here again the testimony was so overwhelming in favour of the latter that the report substantially confirmed the decision of the Select Committee, upsetting the theory of depopulation and diminution of food supply, but at the same time suggesting certain restrictions as to the formation of forests in the future and recommending that some protection should be given to small tenants whose crops are exposed to damage through the depredations of deer. It would, indeed, have been impossible for a Royal Commission, however composed, to arrive at any other decision on the evidence which was brought before them, but there remain, even now, many facts and arguments, relating chiefly to the present peculiar condition of the Highlands, which tend to justify their conclusions and which were not adequately brought out by the Commission. On pp. 91, 92 of the report reference is made to the large expenditure of money and to the substantial advantages which all classes have derived in those200 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. districts where deer forests have been formed. Instances are given of tens of thousands of pounds spent by individuals chiefly in work on their estates in connection with sport or residential amenities. It was expressly mentioned that the figures given were furnished by only a few out of many owners and occupiers of forests who could have given similar evidence had they been examined, and it may be safely assumed that if the expenditure on deer forests during the past forty-five years were all put together, as may some day be done, the result would be startling. The question, however, cannot be left at the point where the report on this branch of the subject ends. We must pursue it a little further and picture the result of legislation such as is demanded, which would practically destroy deer forests. What would then be the result of all this expenditure of money? What would happen to the roads, paths, fences, keepers' houses, and other adjuncts of a Highland sporting residence? What would be the fate of the residence itself, often a costly mansion and wholly unsuited for any other possible use? It is proposed that the labour employed and time bestowed on these various works should be absolutely lost and wasted, all the money thrown away? for, with the exception of plantations, if deer forests were extinguished, not a trace or vestige would remain of all this vast expenditure. This would not be confiscation– it would be ruin absolute and complete, and worthy of the darkest of dark ages. By confiscation we generally understand the taking of some one's property without compensation, and handing it over to some other person, or its acquisition by the State. In this case, the buildings and improvements would be acquired neither by other persons nor by the State––they would cease to serve the purpose for which they were intended, while they could be beneficially used for no other purpose. Perhaps it may be said, 'Never mind about the buildings; those who erected them did so at their own risk––they must take their chance of what happens to them. It is the land we want to get back, for some other more useful employment than feeding deer.' Very good; but those persons are surely bound to give us some hint of what they would do with these large tracts of land, say in Ross-shire or on the Grampian range, if deer forests were abolished. My contention is simple. It may seem startling, but it is the result of a conviction as strong as twenty years' experience of the vicissitudes of Highland farming can make it. I boldly assert that if deer forests were suddenly abolished or rendered impossible by harassing legislation, seven-eighths of the land in the Highlands now under deer would be unavailable for any other purpose; and I will proceed to prove this. The above proportion of land now under deer and formerly under sheep used to carry what is called a wedder stock; that is to say, it was too high and rugged for breeding ewes, and the stock consisted of wedder lambs put on 1885 A DEFENCE OF DEER FORESTS. 201 the ground in August and sold when three and a half years old. The expenses connected with the rearing and wintering of this class of stock have increased enormously of late years, while the price of wool has proportionately diminished. The result is that what is called a wedder farm has ceased to be profitable. The south country farmers have almost all cleared out of Ross-shire and Inverness, and are, I am told, fast clearing out of Sutherland (though in the latter county sheep are more valuable and reduced rents may still secure tenants). It is true that a native-born Highland farmer would be satisfied with less profits than a stranger, yet he can hardly be expected to content himself with no profits at all. The state of the case in respect to the class of sheep farms out of which deer forests have chiefly been formed is this: You cannot afford to pay both rent and interest on capital. With good management and fair seasons you may pay one or the other, but not both. Now, as interest has to be first satisfied it follows that there is nothing available for rent, and, as land is not likely to be let on such terms, it must remain unoccupied or occupied nominally by the proprietor. In fact, independently of deer forests, a crisis in the Highlands of a most serious character is rapidly approaching, unnoticed save by a few, and with its issues strangely confused in what is called the crofter agitation, which forms but one element in it. Highland property consists of sheep farm, crofter, and sporting rents. If the first-named source is diminished by natural and economical causes, and the last is destroyed by special legislation, from what source are the local rates and taxes to be obtained? Obviously from the rents of crofters, who pay half these local rates themselves. Proprietors who have farms in their own hands cannot be expected to return them in the valuation roll as worth so much when they are really worth nothing. If things continue much longer as they now are, the sheep on all the high wedder farms will be probably sold as they come to the proper age, the money so obtained invested elsewhere, rent dispensed with, and the annual value returned to the assessor merely that of the summer grazing of a few cattle. As things are at present, most of such land might be profitably converted into deer forests, by which process capital would be attracted to the district, a substantial house would probably be built, roads constructed, a moderate rent paid, increasing as the ground became gradually stocked with deer, and the rates and taxes on the whole district would remain the same, or perhaps be reduced through the double operation of a larger rental from which to draw them and less pauperism arising from increased employment. The crisis might so be averted; but what is to be done if impediments are placed in the way of thus utilising the land? How would the crofters like to have almost the whole burden of poor, road, and school rates thrown upon their holdings? We hear a good deal about the dislike in the Highlands to202 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. emigration. In such a state of things as seems possible, emigration on the part of all concerned-landowner, farmer, and crofter-would appear to be the only outcome of the situation. It is hardly necessary to inquire whether the present deer forests, or future vacated sheep farms, can be profitably occupied by crofters. No one with the smallest acquaintance with the Highlands can seriously maintain that where farmers with capital and experience cannot afford to pay any rent for such lands crofters could do so. This is not a case of application of manual labour, of spade cultivation, as against expensive agricultural machines. The lands are to be grazed by sheep ; the sheep have to be first purchased with money and then judiciously treated. To say that the crofters can do the one or the other is to distort facts, and no one is better aware of the impossibility of profitably occupying these tracts of land than the crofter himself. What he wants is the grazing land suitable for a breeding stock. To occupy the higher grounds, with all the risks and inconveniences attendant on the purchase and wintering of lambs, is as far from his wish as it is incompatible with his other occupations and experience. If, therefore, such high grazings are as here referred to can neither be utilised by large farmers nor small tenants, the opponents of deer forests are surely bound to give some indication of the purpose to which they are to be devoted when deer forests are abolished. It may possibly be suggested that as they had their uses before the introduction of deer stalking as a pastime of the rich, so they could, if necessary, revert to their former condition. I am afraid this would be found impracticable. You cannot move back for a century in respect to one feature in rural life unless you move back altogether. The habits, the requirements, the responsibilities, the legal liabilities, the surroundings, the moral and intellectual training of the people have all changed during the past hundred years. Hardly anything remains but the language and the love of home. It would be absolutely impossible under these altered conditions to revert to one prevailing and picturesque practice of ancient times. That the cattle formerly summered in what were called shealings on the high hills were far from numerous admits of no doubt. Their numbers must then, as now, have been limited by the capability of the owners to support them in winter; that they paid a rent so small as to be hardly worth taking into account is a fact which examination into estate records of the period places beyond the region of controversy. That they could not in the present day afford to pay more is equally certain. But, besides this, the people are themselves gone. To reinstate village communities in the heart of the Ross-shire forests would require an expenditure of capital wholly incommensurate with the returns to be expected from the summer grazings of a number of cattle restricted by the wintering capabilities of the straths and glens. Then would anybody migrate there and take his chance of earning a living unless 1885 A DEFENCE OF DEER FORESTS. 203 he were to get, not three, but half a dozen F's? If he were to be promised, besides fixity of tenure, fair rents, and free sale, that which he had a century ago-namely, freedom from school rates, freedom from road rates, and freedom from poor rates-some adventurous spirits might be induced to try the experiment; but so far from this being likely they would all be increased enormously above even the high figure at which they stand at present, both by the operation of the simple rule of arithmetic already alluded to, according to which a decrease in rental must entail a corresponding increase in taxation, and also by the necessity for erecting and equipping new schools and making roads for the re-established village communities. I am almost ashamed of writing what must appear, when put upon paper, the most obvious truisms, but I am not writing for those who know the Highlands, but for the thousands and tens of thousands in England who honestly believe that deer forests constitute a grievance and a hardship, and that if by any means they could be abolished the only loss would fall on the owners, who might have to sacrifice a part of their rents, and on the lessees, who would have to forego their sport; but that the result would be a reoccupation of the land by a happy and contented crofting peasantry, who would immediately show their satisfaction with the prospect presented to them of pastoral felicity and domestic comfort by rushing into the arms of the first recruiting sergeant they might chance to meet! There is another fear, shared, I believe, by so shrewd a judge of men as the chairman of the Royal Commission on which I had the honour to serve. It is assumed that, unless legislative interference takes place, the whole of the good pasture land in the Highlands may soon be converted into forest. No one would contemplate such a prospect with more alarm and reprobation than I should myself. But the alarm is unfounded. The limits to which deer foresting my be expected to be confined are probably very nearly reached. The whole question of what land will and what will not be cleared must be determined by the same economical rules as apply to other industries-viz. whether it pays. Now if a high-lying farm in Ross-shire was let formerly at a rent of, say, 2s. 6d. per sheep, it is clear that when the price of wool falls to the extent of 2s., and the cost of wintering and other expenses takes off the odd 6d., you have the whole rent gone, and economic laws suggest that the land shall then be let to the only person who will take it-a sporting tenant. But if the rent of a sheep farm in one of the Border counties, say Selkirkshire, is not 2s. 6d., bur perhaps 8s. 6d., then the fall in the price of wool affects the tenant of that farm in a very different proportion. He, like the Ross-shire farmer, obtains 2s., or perhaps 2s. 6d., less for his wool, but that still leaves the owner 6s. as rent under the altered conditions. Of course it is understood that the figures here suggested are arbitrary, and would vary according to the breed of sheep and204 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. quality of wool, but the point which I desire to press is that there is a margin for rents, after allowing for depreciation of sheep farming, in the one case, and none in the other. No landowner in the Highlands would now clear an acre of ground if it could be avoided, or if he could devote it profitably to any other purpose. The risks are too great. Besides those arising from possible legislation, of which there was a goodly sample this last session of Parliament, there are others of a technical character, into which I need not here enter. Even in the case of Sutherland I do not believe it would pay to create more deer forests, because the land there will produce the very best class of Cheviot sheep. The same may, in a modified sense, be said of Skye. In the outer Hebrides no one would dream of clearing more land for deer. The hills south of Harris are not as a rule high; the proportion of low grazings and arable land is much greater than on the mainland, and is therefore more suitable for cattle rearing. The only remaining tracts of country which are likely to be cleared are some of the rocky hills on the mainland of Ross and Inverness, where Cheviot sheep cannot be profitably kept, where there is not sufficient low land for wintering more than a limited number of cattle; where the death rate among sheep is so heavy that I hesitate to give any figures, lest I should not be believed ; where, from the propinquity to other forests, a stock of deer might soon be got up; and, lastly, where, at the conclusion of the present leases, no tenant other than a sporting one may be expected to offer any rent, however small. If this be true, all fear of any excessive extension of deer forests may be dismissed as in the highest degree improbable. From the foregoing as well as from the facts established in the two public inquiries previously referred to, it would appear to be conclusively proved that the existence of deer forests imposes, with a single exception, neither hardship nor inconvenience on any of the inhabitants of the districts in which they are situated, but, on the contrary, that the varied requirements belonging to the ownership or occupancy of a large sporting estate necessitate an expenditure of money among all classes which will not bear comparison with what would occur if the land were devoted to any other industry. There remains, however, one interest which occasionally makes itself heard, not so much complaining of the system as urging the advantages to be gained if, from any cause, deer forests ceased to exist. Allusion has been already made to the practice of wintering young sheep in the lowland parts of Ross-shire and other neighbouring counties. Some of those who thus make a profit out of the Highland sheep farmer have been known, though, I am happy to add, very rarely, to advocate the abolition of deer forests, with the avowed object of increasing competition for their turnips and grazings by adding to the number of sheep requiring low-ground wintering, and so forcing up the price for their own advantage, but to the manifest loss of the unfortunate 1885 A DEFENCE OF DEER FORESTS. 205 Highland farmer. A truly selfish policy, and one which must earn the reprobation of all fair-minded men. Probably some of these gentlemen would repudiate with lofty indignation the idea of taxing American corn or New Zealand mutton with a view of giving a stimulus to home agriculture. They would affect the self-sacrificing tone of a martyr to the stern principles of a strict political economy, and refuse to entertain the idea of taxing others for their own advantage. And yet they have no hesitation in suggesting that an industry pursued, not among farmers in the United States, or even among their fellow-subjects in the colonies, but here at home, by their own countrymen, should be destroyed, and for this sole reason, that an artificial value may be thereby given to their special produce. Fortunately, I shall be able to show that such people are as ignorant as they are selfish. I affirm without hesitation that precisely the opposite result may be expected. In my judgement, it is an absolute certainty that if deer forests were gradually abolished, the practice of wintering sheep away from home would contemporaneously cease. In the old days. when the hills were occupied by a hardy black-faced stock, low-country wintering was unknown. The system was introduced when the south country graziers arrived on the scene with their more delicate breed of Cheviot sheep. Then came high prices and high rents. Wool and mutton were so valuable that sheep farming became an important and profitable business, and was conducted on totally different principles from what had hitherto prevailed. Instead of keeping a moderate sheep stock of a hardy breed on a given hill where young as well as old might obtain sufficient pasturage both in winter and summer, the farmer now crammed on double the stock in the summer, and eased the ground by taking turnip or grass winterings for his young sheep. But in those days turnips were cheap, rough low-country grazings cheaper still. The Cheviot sheep (not literally imported, but crossed from black-faced ewes) retained for many years the native hardihood of their mothers. Cheviot wool was a fair price, being nearly double that of black-faced, and many old people persistently assert that the climate was then better. So the south country farmer for a period throve and prospered. Now all that is reversed. Cheviot sheep are finer, more delicate, and therefore less able to stand the climate. The breed is thus fast disappearing, except perhaps in Sutherland and parts of Skye. The price of wool and mutton barely justifies the extra cost of taking winterings in the low country, and farmers are already beginning to ask themselves whether the time has not come to return to the old practice of keeping a light stock and wintering the whole of them at home. What is probable, even as matters now stand, would become a certainty if forests were made available as summer runs for sheep. In a former part of this article it was suggested that seven-eighths of the actual deer forests would be useless for any other purpose. I arrived at the conclusion on the assumption206 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. that one-fourth of all the ground now under deer might be made available, from contiguity to existing sheep farms, and for other reasons, as summer runs, taken at a comparatively low rent by the neighbouring farmer to ease his own land and enable him to dispense with hired winterings. This out-run would certainly be not more than half stocked, and thus one-eighth of the actual deer forests might be at least profitably utilised, though not contributing much to the wealth of the country. But the new process would destroy the value of turnip and grass winterings in the northern counties. Let not the owners of these winterings deceive themselves. The fate of this source of their profit is certain if the Highland farmer can find means to lighten his ground in summer by obtaining an out-run such as I have indicated. Sheep have been wintered at home before, and this mode of treatment may be again adopted, while it would undoubtedly be greatly facilitated if large summer out-runs at nominal rents were suddenly made available. It may here be not out of place to refer to the probable methods which the opponents of deer forests are likely to employ in order to destroy them. As usual in such cases, the assault may be either direct or indirect. The simplest operation would of course be to withdraw from deer the protection afforded under certain Game Acts ; that more likely to be adopted is a series of indirect blows, each delivered with the assurance that no harm is meant and that the effect of each particular proposal cannot seriously injure the owners of deer forests. Among the latter expedients for worrying them to death may be counted the Bill entitled 'Access to Mountains,' brought forward ostensibly on behalf of botanists, but in reality with a very different object-proposals for special taxation made by those who have apparently never heard the fable of the goose that laid the golden eggs-and the Ground Game Amendment Bill, under which deer are to be placed on the same footing as rabbits and made inalienably the property of the person on whose land they may happen to be found. The intentions of the authors of this proposal are especially obvious. There is no comparison between the respective cases of rabbits and deer. The former are bred on the land rented by the tenant, they feed entirely on his crops; the latter are bred and feed elsewhere, and, except on rare occasions, only wander down to the low ground to seek shelter and food during a snow storm. Rabbits are worth two shillings a couple, deer two or three pounds apiece. While it is quite right and proper that protection should be afforded to tenants, and especially to small tenants, against depredations to their growing crops, the application of the Ground Game Act to deer is a crude way of dealing with a difficult question, and, so far as it is not a mere bid for popularity, is manifestly designed for, as it must eventually lead to, the total extirpation of red deer. It only remains for me to summarise the arguments contained in 1885 A DEFENCE OF DEER FORESTS. 207 the foregoing, and submit them to the judgment of the readers of this Review. 1. The theory of depopulation, arising from the creation of deer forests, has been absolutely disproved by the unanimous Reports of the Select Committee of 1872 and the Royal Commission of 1883. Evidence is overwhelming, and uncontradicted, to the effect that deer were a substitute for sheep and not for men and women, and that no responsibility attaches to the system of forests for the clearances in the Highlands. 2. A similar disproval has been given to the theory of loss to the meat-consuming population of these islands by the displacement of sheep. The figures on which this branch of the Report of the Crofters Commission is based prove conclusively that the meat supply of the United Kingdom is not in the slightest degree affected by existing forests, while the following sentence of the Report cannot fail to carry conviction as a bare statement of facts : 'The soil of a whole region here might be laid waste, and the deficit would be promptly covered by the despatch of grain from Manitoba and of meat from Texas or Australia.' This theory, therefore, which forms a text for the loose attacks of nine out of ten ill-informed platform speakers, ought really to be laid aside and abandoned if evidence unchallenged and absolute is henceforth, on any subject, to be a guide to the attainment of truth. 3. It has been established, though this may hereafter be done with greater exactitude and detail, that hundreds of thousands of pounds have been spent, chiefly among the inhabitants of the districts, in the equipment of the adjuncts to a deer forest, and that, with the exception of plantations, the produce of this expenditure would be lost if the land were to be devoted to other purposes. 4. I have shown that, under the present conditions of sheep farming, only a small proportion of existing forests could be let for any rent, however small, and that the poor, road, and school rates would have to be drawn from diminished sheep rents and from crofting rents almost exclusively. 5. It is asserted as a self-evident proposition that if experienced capitalists cannot profitably occupy these grazings no community of crofters could do so, and that the latter would, in the event of the abolition of deer forests, be doubly prejudiced by the destruction of a source of employment and by the imposition of heavier taxation without the compensating advantage of an addition to their too restricted holdings. Lastly : I have endeavoured to show, and can vouch for the fact by my own experience, that if low-lying grazing land be kept tolerably clear during summer, and a hardy stock maintained, there is no reason why young sheep need be sent to the Lowlands for winter, and that the abolition of deer forests would thus deprive the owners208 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. of grass and turnip winterings of a source of profit which has been most precious to many small farmers in Inverness, Ross, and Morayshire during recent bad years. If the several contentions here put forward cannot be controverted, it would appear to be placed beyond doubt that the practice of letting grazings for sporting purposes is not only justifiable but commendable, and that attacks, direct or indirect, upon the system would, if successful, bring nothing short of disaster on the inhabitants of the Highlands. Indeed, if this were to happen it may be confidently asserted that the material prosperity of the northern districts of Scotland would be greatly injured, if not altogether destroyed; that the burdens of local taxation would be largely increased; and that, contrary to the prevailing belief, the destruction of deer forests might result in a further depopulation, and a more widely spread impoverishment, of still larger areas. DONALD CAMERON of Lochiel. 1885 209 ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA. THE recent controversy between the House of Lords and the House of Commons has invaded the Capitol at Washington, and is echoed back to England in some jealous threatenings made by the American House of Representatives against the Senate. The inflammation of Parliament has extended by sympathy to Congress, and the contest between the 'Two Houses,' which is almost at an end in England, is just beginning in the United States. It is a continuation of the same old English quarrel, an outburst of the same old spirit, the ineradicable jealousy of aristocracy, prerogative, and caste. The forms and manners of the social aristocracy in the old country are closely imitated in the new, even to the cockades on the hats of liveried servants. Social aristocracy is a little more nervous and sensitive in America than in England, because it lacks the quality of ancient possession and hereditary right. American aristocracy, being necessarily of the upstart, mushroom kind, and theoretically illegal, is never quite at ease; it has not that graceful, easy confidence that centuries of practice gives. It is always afraid that it is not doing things just exactly as they are done in England. An awkward boor of low rank might tread on the toes of the Duke of Somerset without insulting him, because the aristocracy of the Duke is of such ancient lineage, and so thoroughly established, that he can decline to be insulted by people of small heraldry; while Mr. Plutus, of New York, although a richer man than the Duke of Somerset, would be compelled to resent the treading of his toes, because his grandfather was a pedlar. It is commonly believed by many Americans that, because they have no titled nobility, nor any hereditary privileged orders, that therefore they have no aristocracy; this is a mistake. Aristocracy is not only legal in the United States, but it has been deliberately established in the Constitution. A social aristocracy will develop itself in any country where wealth is unequally distributed. It springs out of the freedom that belongs to us all to form ourselves into exclusive sets if we choose to do so. Perhaps no great crimes can be charged against it. In excess it may produce vanity, false VOL. XVIII. - No. 102. P 210 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. pretension, and show; but it does not work oppression until it obtains a political foundation on which to rest. Such a foundation is provided for it in the Constitution of the United States. The kingly powers of the President, the equal representation of unequal States in the American Senate, the small number of senators, the select persons who appoint them, the mode of their election, their long tenure of office, and the greatness of their prerogatives, make a broad and strong foundation for an American aristocracy. The word aristocracy is used here, not in its technical or dictionary meaning, but according to the sense in which it is generally understood by the people of the United States - not as the old Greeks used it, to express the class composed of the best people; not as the European nations use it, to express the titled classes; but as the Americans use it, to describe a class of pretenders who would be titled people if they could, and a class who assume superior importance on account of money. So the word democracy is not used here in its partisan meaning, but to express, first, the great body of the American people, and, secondly, their form of government. It is not easy to treat this subject intelligently without comparing the Constitution of the United States with the Constitution of England, because, as one is founded on the other, we can study its operations better by contrasting them with the parallel history of its prototype and model. It is worthy the deep thought of the student of history that, during the ninety-five years of the American Constitution, the English Constitution on which it is founded has been radically changed, until now the Government of Great Britain, while preserving its monarchical and aristocratic form, has become in practice a representative democracy, while the Government of the United States, preserving all this time its republican form, has become in practice what might be called a constitutional monarchy. The reasons for this apparent anomaly are not hard to find. The men who framed the American Constitution were lawyers. They knew nothing practically of any law except the English law; they had no practical knowledge of the workings of any constitution except the English Constitution, and they were afraid to trust themselves too far away from the ancient landmarks with which they were familiar. They therefore proposed for the new nation in the western world the English trinity of government - king, lords, and commons. They made the king elective for four years, not by the people at large, but by a select body of citizens called Electors; they made the House of Lords elective for six years, also by a select body called the State Legislatures; the House of Commons they adopted nearly in the shape they found it in the English Constitution. The king they called the President; the House of Lords they called the Senate; the House of Commons they called the House of Representatives. In this way they transplanted to the fertile political soil of 1885 ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA. 211 the new Continent a part of the feudal system of Europe, curiously enough, just at the very time when that system was about to be overthrown by a violent revolution in France, and by a peaceful revolution in England. A few years before the Constitutional Convention met at Philadelphia, Blackstone gave to the world his Commentaries on the Laws of England. A careful reading of the Constitution and the Commentaries will show that the Constitution is greatly indebted to Blackstone both for its form and substance. It will also be seen that the eloquent praises of the Constitution which are continually on the lips of American orators and statesmen, praises of its admirable system of checks and balances, its equal distribution of powers, its blending of diverse and conflicting interests into one harmonious whole, and all the rest of it, are borrowed from Blackstone's eulogies on the Constitution of England. Following their pattern closely, the framers of the Constitution gave to the three branches of the new government, as nearly as circumstances would permit, the powers and prerogatives of the corresponding branches in the English Government. They made the President, like the king, the fountain of honour, whence flowed the offices and dignities of the Government; they made him, like the king, the fountain of justice, and gave him the appointment of all the judges; they made him, like the king, the fountain of mercy, and clothed him with the power to pardon; they made him, like the king, commander-in-chief of the army and the navy; and they gave him the royal veto when, in practice, that power had utterly ceased in England. When the framers of the Constitution invested the President with the power to veto Acts of Congress, no King of England had exercised it against Parliament for ninety-seven years; it has never been exercised in England since, and under the reformed Constitution of Britain it can never be exercised again. Not satisfied with depriving the king of the veto power, the Commons of England did not stop until they had deprived him of all political power whatsoever, until now the Queen 'reigns, but does not govern.' The government is carried on in her name, and her signature is necessary to give validity to Acts of Parliament, but her political action is directed by the advice of ministers who are responsible to the House of Commons. The impression of the Great Seal is necessary to give validity to certain documents, but the Great Seal itself is only a piece of brass. Its acts are mechanical, and so are the governmental acts of the Queen. The king being shorn of political power, the House of Lords was at last brought into subjection to the House of Commons. The struggle between the two Houses for supremacy had lasted for centuries, but it ended in 1832 by the unconditional surrender of the House of Lords. For fifty years it has been little more than a debating society, a revising committee for the House of Commons. P2 212 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. In theory it has the same legislative prerogatives that it ever had; but as an independent branch of the legislature its authority is at an end. It can obstruct the measures of the House of Commons for a month or two, or perhaps for a session, but recent experience demonstrates that, if the House of Commons insists upon its will, the House of Lords must yield. Sir Erskine May, in his Constitutional History of England, expresses the belief that if the House of Lords had stood firmly by its prerogatives in 1832, and had compelled Lord Grey to carry out his threat of creating peers enough to carry the Reform Bill, although beaten on that measure, it would still have preserved its power and independence, but Earl Russell was of a different opinion. He says in his Recollections that, no matter what the House or Lords might have done, it could not have averted its fate. The Commons had become supreme, the paramount authority in Parliament. A contest which had continued with varying fortune for about 600 years has ended in the victory of the English democracy over the aristocracy and the king. Great Britain is practically a republic with a machinery of government instantly responsive and obedient to the will of the voters expressed at the polls. In striking contrast to the past ninety-five years of the history of the English monarchy, is the ninety-five years' history of the American republic. During that time, the United States has, by the vast increase of its territory, its population, and its wealth, multiplied the influence of the Senate, relatively decreased that of the House of Representatives, and by investing the President with the character of a party leader, armed with the veto, has made him a real political power equal to two-thirds of both Houses of Congress. Thus, while preserving the republican form, it has reached in practice very nearly the shape and character of the English monarchy of old time. Since the English people cut off the head of King Charles, and dethroned his son, they have not had a king who possessed or exercised one half the royal prerogatives and powers that are enjoyed by the President of the United States to-day. Next to monarchy, the most offensive political institution to Americans is hereditary aristocracy. But, if they have an aristocracy, it is of little consequence with what adjectives they qualify it. It may be ill-mannered and offensive, but it is only injurious to the people in proportion to its political power, and its distance from popular control. An elective aristocracy may be as expensive and mischievous as any other. A senator in the American Congress has twenty times more political power than a peer of England. The House of Lords cannot obstruct measures of legislation for more than a single session, the American Senate may stand for years an immovable obstacle in the way of popular advancement and reform. A social democracy cannot flourish in any country that recognises 1885 ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA. 213 and maintains a political aristocracy. The American Senate is the most important political aristocracy that has existed in the modern world. A Roman senator never possessed as much political authority and social influence as an American Senator has to-day. Although Rome was as large in territory as the United States, and had a larger population subject to her dominion, she never had under her control so much wealth for power to act upon. Other aristocracies have existed with larger personal privileges than the American senators have, but none with so much legislative power. An American senator may by a single vote give away a million acres of land. He may by another vote bestow a franchise worth a million dollars, a franchise too that the Supreme Court will decide no other Congress may reclaim or take away. Think of the vast interests of the United States under the legislative control of seventy-six men, not one of them elected by the people. Imagine the partnership of Illinois in the National Government represented in one branch of the legislature by only two men, responsible to nobody. Let it be borne in mind that the members of the United States Senate will in personal wealth average the ownership of more than a million dollars each, and it becomes at once apparent that such an important aristocracy was never known before. The main source of American aristocracy is in the Senate, and there it gets its chief support. The tree of aristocracy has its roots in the Senate; and the great trunk of it, and the branches of it, grow and flourish from unlimited taxation. Social reformers tire themselves out, lopping off a leaf here and a twig there, but never until they cut the roots of it will the tree wither and die. They must abolish the Senate, or make it democratic, before any important political reforms will be achieved in America. If the Senate cannot be abolished, it can be reformed. It can be made elective by the people; its term of office can be reduced to two years, and it can be made to represent the States in proportion to their population. If it is protected by the Constitution from any changes not made by its own consent, then, in that case, the House of Representatives will be compelled to assert its power, and, by virtue of its pre-eminent right to control the revenues of the nation, establish the supremacy of the people. Then will the Americans have a government not only democratic in form, but in substance also. All the branches of the American Government, except one, are jealously guarded by the Constitution against the democratic element. Not only the prerogatives of those branches but also the manner of their appointment show this. The framers of the Constitution were careful to protect the great office of President from the profane touch of the people. They provided that the President should be elected by an intermediate aristocracy consisting of a few men from each State, chosen in such manner as the States might themselves provide.214 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. This exclusion of the democracy from any direct agency in the choice of the President has been evaded by an ingenious device known as a nominating convention. This, however, is but a precarious substitute, and the democracy is not quite satisfied with it. From time to time it makes an angry demand that the Presidency shall be its property, and awarded by its ballot without the intervention of any middlemen whatever. The judicial branch of the American Government was made exclusively aristocratic beyond any taint of popular control. The English plan of appointing judges was adopted by the fathers, and embalmed in the Constitution, without any change or amendment. The judges must be appointed by the President, and their term runs during good behaviour as in England. The theory is that the people are not wise enough nor virtuous enough to be entrusted with the selection of the judges, and therefore they must be appointed by the President. He is, ex officio, both wise and virtuous too. In this way the judges are supposed to be raised above party influences and the clamour of the mob. The life tenure is attached to the judicial office that the judges may be independent of executive interference and dictation. The result has been to create a caste, sitting in black cassocks at Washington; luxurious men, deciding by the precedents, except on political questions, and then always according to party lines. The Supreme Court of the United States has itself decided that the American judiciary is not a subordinate but a co-ordinate branch of the government. The 'omnipotence of Parliament' is a phrase never heard in America. The tremendous quality of omnipotence has been appropriated by the Supreme Court, and by force of this extravagent claim of right it scrutinises Acts of Congress, construes them, amends them, and repeals them. How long would the people of England permit nine judges to pass sentence upon Acts of Parliament, and declare them null? Not an hour; and yet this is the constant practice of the American Supreme Court. The people patiently endure it under the belief that such is the prerogative of the Court. Very frequently, trade, commerce, manufactures, and all kinds of business, are kept in a nervous and excited condition for months, and even years, waiting for the decision of the Supreme Court as to the validity of some important Act of Congress. In the reign of President Grant, the Supreme Court, by a majority of one vote only, declared the Legal Tender Act unconstitutional and void. The Legal Tender Act had been in operation for many years, and all the business of the country had adapted itself to the conditions of paper money. The decision therefore affected every living contract in the country, and in order to avert the consequences of it two new members were appointed to the Supreme Court by President Grant, with the understanding that they would make a majority of one the other way, and reverse the216 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. ??tives itself has been surrendered to the President and the Senate in return for official patronage. The power to appoint and remove all the Federal officers in his district is the chief reliance of the representative for a renomination, and as he must obtain that power from the President, he cannot be independent of executive influence and ambition. Only those members of the House of Representatives who are opposed to the President in politics can possibly be independent, so long as party machinery in America remains as it is now. Only twice in the past thirty years has the House of Representatives even threatened to exercise its prerogative of stopping the supplies, and in both cases the President was of the opposite political party to the majority in that House. Is there any power short of a violent revolution by which the people of the United States can arrest the prerogative of the President, curb the encroachments of the Senate, and give to the House of Representatives a controlling influence in the Government like that possessed by the English democracy in the House of Commons? The Senate is firmly intrenched in the citadel of the Constitution; it cannot be swamped, like the House of Lords, by the creation of new senators, nor can the Constitution be amended except three- fourths of the Senate agree thereto. As a small minority of the people choose a large majority of the Senate, it is vain to expect that three-fourths of that body will voluntarily consent to diminish their own privileges and power. One course remains within the Constitution, and that is the withholding of supplies. Anticipating the same necessity, the founders of the American Government borrowed the English principle, and embodied it in the Constitution in the following words, 'All bills for raising revenue shall originate in the House of Representatives, but the Senate may propose or concur with amendments as on other bills.' It is worthy of special note that this invincible weapon of the House of Commons was transplanted and set in the Constitution of the United States, not be accident, nor even by common consent, but by compromise. The Tory element in the Convention opposed it, but the Liberal element, anticipating the usurpations of the Senate, resisted the creation of an Upper House with aristocratic prerogatives, nor would that element agree to a Senate unless accompanied by the English antidote, the surrender to the House of Representatives of the exclusive power to impose taxes, and the right to stop the supplies. By virtue of that compromise the creation of an aristocratic Chamber was agreed to. There, quietly slumbering in the Constitution, and occupying but three lines of it, lies the power that will some day revolutionise the American Government without bloodshed, that will blunt the edge of the President's prerogative, that will make the House of Representatives the chief power in the government, and reduce the Senate to 1885 ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA. 217 a secondary and inferior position. What has been done in England will be done in America; the conditions are the same, the people are alike, with a common lineage and a common history, the motive powers are the same, and the results will be the same. The real conflict between the antagonistic forces of the American Government is hardly yet begun. It will burst into a storm when the President and the Senate, banded together in defence of prerogative, shall resist a resolute House of Representatives fresh from the people, and bearing from the people a message of reform. In that contest the stopping of the supplies will be the conquering weapon, and prerogative must yield, as it had to yield in England. MATTHEW M. TRUMBULL. Chicago. 218 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. VIOLINS. THE violin deserves the royal rank into which it has been raised as the king of instruments, because of all musical instruments it is in the last degree only an instrument. All other instruments, in comparison. may be said to remain apart from the performer. They consist of a dead machinery of keys and strings, or of keys and pipes, which he has to galvanise into a semblance of life. It is no mere figure of speech to say that the violin becomes part of the player. He finds himself endowed with a new voice of enormous compass and power, which may be as completely under his control as his own proper voice, in the intonation of the notes, in the mode of passing from note to note, and in a delicate response to the most subtle shades of musical feeling. It is not a matter of surprise, therefore, that with the present revival of the art and science of music in this country, the most musical of all musical instruments, the violin, should have come into special favour. Parenthetically let it be said that no more powerful antidote against the wearing effects of the excessive and anxious activity of our age is to be found, than in what may be called the stimulating rest which music affords. Music is pre-eminently the tonic for the mind. . . . Music . . high heritage For the poor late-begotten human brood, Born to life's weary brevity, and perilous good. Violins differ from each other in as many ways, and as greatly, as the peoples on the face of the earth. Dear violins, which have been manufactured wholesale, may be bought for a few shillings, but the cheapest violins are those into which has been infused the individuality of some great maker; these may cost from a hundred to a thousand pounds. A fine violin by Stradivari or by Guarneri is cheap at five hundred pounds, for it is a thing of beauty and a joy for ever to its possessor, and when it is sold will fetch the price paid for it, together with interest thereon for the time it has been in the owner's hands. There are many musical voices in the world. If the same note be sounded in succession upon a pianoforte, an organ, a clarionet, a flute, and a violin, the quality of the sound will be different, for each instrument possesses a distinctive quality of voice. 1885 VIOLINS. 219 Musical sounds are the result upon the ear of periodic waves of the air, and a musical instrument is a machine by which we can set the air into regular waves of the precise kind which are needed to produce the notes which we desire to excite in the ears of the listeners. How does it come about that when the same note is sounded on different instruments, though the pitch of the note is the same in all cases, the character of quality of the sound is very different? The answer to this question will bring into distinctness some of the points upon which depends the peculiarity of the violin among musical instruments, and also some of the reasons why the violin, regarded as an air-vibrator, is an instrument of great delicacy, and consequently the differences are so very great between violins, which, to an eye that has not been highly trained, look alike. The explanation which has to be given shows us that we have to do with one of the many cases in which our states of consciousness do not correspond to the external stimuli acting upon our organs of sense. The whiteness of a piece of paper is, in our experience, a single and primary sensation, but the spectroscope teaches us that this apparently single sensation results from the unconscious fusion together of many different impressions which take place simultaneously upon the retina of the eye. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, are the names of perfectly distinct sensations if they affect us in succession, but if they are present together in suitable proportions, then the compound effect is totally unlike any one of its constituents, and there arises a new and apparently primary sensation, that of whiteness. In an analogous way, nearly all musical tones, whether of the human voice or of any instrument, consist of large groups of sounds simultaneously present in the ear. We know how different is the effect of a distant orchestra, according to the relative number and force of the different kinds of instruments which compose it. In a somewhat analogous way, the quality of a musical sound depends upon the relative number and force of the constituent notes within it. The pitch of a note sounded upon different instruments may be the same; but, quite apart from less or greater loudness, there is a peculiarity of sound which so clearly distinguishes each instrument, that under ordinary circumstances we never mistake one for another. This difference of quality of the sounds depends chiefly upon the composition of the group of constituent notes which by their united effects produce each sound. There is, indeed, one other circumstance which, in a minor and quite subservient way, assists in giving to musical instruments their distinctive qualities of sound. There is always present, more or less strongly, what may be called the noise of the machinery. In the case of the piano, there are the irregular air-motions from the striking down of the keys, and the friction of the parts of the 'action.' In the violin, there is the noise of the rubbing of the bow upon the 220 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. strings, which under unfavourable circumstances may amount to scraping. In the flute and some organ pipes there is heard the noise of a rushing of air. In our experience these machinery-noises have become so inseparably associated by habit with the different instruments, that, though we may not consciously notice them, they go some way to help to give us the individuality of sound which distinguishes each instrument. Noises are more rapidly enfeebled by distance, as a rule, than are true musical sounds; for this reason it is not always easy to distinguish distant sources of sound. Under these circumstances, a horn may be mistaken for a voice singing, or a violoncello for a harmonium. We have a familiar example in the case of listening to a distant speaker; we find the consonants which are characterised by nosies are much more difficult to catch than the more musical vowels. Quite apart from these associated noises of the machinery, which we may now dismiss from further consideration, there are the true tone-qualities which are radically connected with the way in which the musical machine sets the air into wave-motion. When a chord of several notes is struck, an untrained ear receives a simple sensation, but the musician easily distinguishes the separate notes of the chord. In the case of the more recondite groups of constituent notes which determine the quality of a song, a trained ear can distinguish only under exceptional circumstances some of the more prominent separate sounds. The great variety in the qualities of musical sounds, which forms no small part of the pleasure we receive from music, is possible to us only through the enormous range of pitch to which the ear is sensitive. The eye can receive an octave only of lightwaves, a small oasis in the great range of waves from a luminous body like the sun, all others being to us a region of darkness. The range of the ear is eleven times as great. The characteristic feature of the sound-groups we have under consideration is the great range in pitch of the several notes which compose them. The lowest note of all is the one which determines the pitch of the group, or the musical sound, and the great ladder of notes rising above it, the upper partials as they are technically called, are not separately heard by us, but affect us only in the way of enriching the fundamental tone, and giving to it, according to the predominance in force of the higher or lower of these notes, the quality of softness, or of brilliancy, so that the sound becomes dull or piercing, poor, or rich and full. Indeed, the ear is not satisfied unless there is a full orchestra concealed within the apparently single sound; the invisible choir must be a large one to give to a note a rich and full musical sound. When these spectral choristers are absent, as in the case of a wide stopped organ pipe, the sound is dull; they troop in to give the rich brilliancy of the tones of a violin, or of a soprano singer. The amplitude, or the bigness in height of the air-waves, determines 1885 VIOLINS. 221 determines the force they exert upon the ear, which we translate into loudness. The number of air-waves in a second of time gives us the pitch of the note. There is obviously a third condition which may greatly vary, namely the form of the wave. It is the peculiar form of the air-waves, in which may be compounded more or fewer of the smaller waves corresponding to these 'upper partials,' which is the cause of the quality of the sound. Let us now leave all other musical sounds, and proceed to discuss the bearings of these general considerations upon the tone of the violin, which is that of a catgut string strongly reinforced. The quality of sound emitted by a vibrating string depends not only upon the weight, rigidity, and elasticity of the string, but greatly upon the way in which it is thrown into vibration. A string may be excited by striking or by plucking, as in the case of the piano, or of the harp, guitar, and zither. In these cases the quality of the tone will be influenced by the nature of the stroke, and by the place on the string where the blow is given. A string may also be set in vibration by bowing, to which case we must restrict ourselves. One word as to the material of the strings of the violin, for this has a considerable influence on the tone of the instrument. As compared with wires, catgut is much lighter relatively to its degree of compactness, and possesses also an inferior degree of elasticity. It is owing to these qualities that the violin possesses a rich and brilliant tone, free from all metallic hardness and tinkling. The light catgut strings set up very high upper partials, which supply the brilliancy to the tone, while at the same time the small elasticity of the gut causes these high constituents of the tone to be quickly damped, thus keeping the brilliancy free from a metallic character. It is hardly needful to say that the use of a silk string or of a wire for the first string introduces a different quality of tone, and is barbarous in the extreme. When a string is set into motion, it vibrates not only as a whole, but also in each of its fractional parts. The vibrations of the whole string gives the prime or fundamental tone, which determines for us the pitch of the sound. The other fractional parts of the string supply the upper partials which affect the quality of the sound; half the string gives the octave higher, the three thirds of the string the fifths above this higher octave, and so on. We must not think of a number of separate smaller waves of air produced by these segments of the string which accompany the longer waves due to the whole string. On the contrary, the wave form due to the whole string is so modified by them as to receive a form which may be regarded as containing within itself the sum of all these minor wave-motions. The form of vibration of a string set up by bowing is remarkable. During the greater part of each vibration the string clings to the rosined bow, and is carried with it at the rate at which the bow222 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. moves, until the elasticity of the string overcomes the friction, when the string suddenly detaches itself and rebounds; it is then immediately seized again by the bow, and carried on as before. Helmholtz has aptly compared the vibration of a violin string at the usual place of bowing to the periodic motion of a hammer moved by a water-wheel. The hammer is slowly raised by the millwork, then released, and falls down suddenly, and is again slowly raised, and so on. This is a form of vibration in which the upper partials which give brilliancy to the tone can be strong, for the forces of these tones is greater the sharper the discontinuities of the motions of the air. Helmholtz observed the vibration of a violin string by an ingenious optical device; the writer has obtained records of them on a smoked cylinder rotating by clockwork. An uninterrupted and pure musical quality of sound continues only so long, as Helmholtz has observed, as the same vibrational form is strictly maintained, any want of uniformity of bowing or irregularity of vibration set up by imperfections in the body of the violin show themselves by sudden breaks or discontinuous displacements and changes in the form of vibration. The result is irregular motions of the air, or noise of some kind, it may be the scratching noise always present in inferior violins, mingled with the true musical sound. We have now come to see one of the reasons of the almost insuperable difficulty of making- perfect violins, the needed paths For inspiration and high mastery. It is only when the instrument is of perfect appropriateness in form, and is made of wood of the most perfect elasticity which can be procured, that we have the indispensable conditions for the production of constant regularity in the vibrations of the strings stretched over it. There is also another point of equally great importance, namely, that we have not to do merely with the production of an unbroken continuity of suitable groups of upper partial tones in the strings themselves, but also with the communication to the air of the motions of the strings by means of the sonorous body of the violin. Let the strings be stretched in air and the sound is extremely feeble, because they are too small to communicate any considerable part of their motions to the air. When the strings are stretched upon a violin, they agitate the wooden plates of the back and belly, and also the mass of air included within the violin, and when the conditions are favourable nearly the whole of the energy communicated by the bow to the strings is transmuted into pure musical sound of the most exquisite quality. The violin consists essentially of two arched wooden plates of the well-known form, united by side pieces into a shallow box with two 1885 VIOLINS. 223 openings in the upper plate of the form of an 'f.' The back is made of a hard sonorous wood, and for this purpose sycamore or maple was found by the old makers to surpass all other woods. The upper plate is made of a soft, elastic wood, and for this part of the violin Swiss pine was chosen. The strings are not merely stretched above the box, as in the case of the guitar, but they are raised out of the straight direction by passing over a bridge, upon which they press with great force. To bear up against this strain, and for other reasons, the belly has an arched form, but if the whole downward pressure of the strings were borne by the belly it would be in too great a state of strain to vibrate with freedom. Under one foot of the bridge therefore, but a little behind it, is placed a small post of wood, which fits without pressure between the belly and the back. This little pillar of wood not only props up the belly, but really deserves its name, the sound-post, because it assists in producing the tone of the violin by conveying the vibrations to the back of the instrument. Besides these two direct functions, the sound-post, which the French call, l'ame du violon, affects the nodal arrangement of the belly and also of the back, by the pressure of the ends of the rod against these two plates. The usual way of investigating vibrations by the scattering of sand over the agitated body is difficult of application to the violin on account of the curved forms of the upper and lower plates. The writer has found a convenient method to be furnished by the use of what may be called a touch-rod. It consists of a small round stick of straight-grained deal a few inches long; the forefinger is placed on one end, and the others is put lightly in contact with the vibrating surface. The finger becomes very sensitive to small differences of agitation transmitted by the rod. The bridge transmits the vibrations of the strings to the belly, but differently through the two feet on which it stands. The foot under the thinnest string stands nearly over the top of the little sound-post. If the foot of the bridge were placed exactly over the top of the post, then the tone would be greatly impaired, for it is obvious that the energy of vibration would pass almost wholly through the post to the back, and not set this side of the belly into the necessary degree of vibration. When, however, the foot rests a little in front of the top of the post, then a portion of the energy of the vibration is directly communicated to this part of the belly. Practically very small differences of position of the foot of the bridge are found to alter largely the character of the tone of the fiddle, so that in fine instruments the setting of the post is an operation which demands much care and judgment. The other foot of the bridge, under the string covered the wire, is in a more favourable position for transmitting its motion directly to the belly, because it rests on the belly nearly midway between the224 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. supports at the tail and at the neck end of the violin. The belly on this side is strengthened by a girder of wood, which at the present day has to be longer and deeper in the central parts, to bear up against the greater pressure of the high pitch now in use. A number of old bass-bars, as these girders are called, arranged according to date, may be seen in one of the cases in the Loan Collection of Musical Instruments at South Kensington. The peculiar cuttings which give the bridge its well-known form were finally fixed from trials by Stradivari. These are not merely ornamental, but serve an important purpose. The plane of the vibrations of the strings, which is that in which they are bowed, is more or less oblique to the bridge. For convenience we may regard these oblique variations as divided into two sets at right angles to each other. The writer, from his experiments with the touch-rod, has suggested that the use of the cuttings of the bridge is to sift the vibrations communicated by the strings so as to allow those only, or mainly, to pass to the feet which would be efficient in setting the body of the instrument into vibration, the other vibrations which would be injurious by tending to give a transverse rocking motion to the bridge being for the most part absorbed by the greater elasticity given to the upper part of the bridge by the cutting. In the consideration of the body of the violin as an instrument for communicating, under the most favourable conditions, the vibrations of the strings to the air, account must be taken of the mass of air contained within the violin-box, and which communicates with the outer air by the two openings in the belly. This inclosed air corresponds to certain proper tones, and is able to reinforce these tones, and other tones which lie near them, or are harmonically connected with them. The proper tone of the inclosed air may be found by blowing across one of the f holes, and has been investigated by Savart and others. Recently Mr. Ellis has investigated this point with great minuteness by holding a tuning-fork of which the exact pitch was known over the widest part of the f hole on the covered-string side of the violin. Mr. Ellis used a series of forks proceeding by 4 vibrations in a second. The examination of a fine violin of the grand pattern by Stradivari in the possession of the writer gave a chief maximum at from 260 to 268 vibrations in a second, and a secondary but weaker maximum resonance at about 252 vibrations. Mr. Ellis remarks that though (in Stradivari's time) the low pitch was prevalent, a high pitch, a great semitone (117 ct.) higher, was also in use as a chamber pitch. Hence the two resonances of the old violins corresponded, whether by accident or design, with the two pitches used, and corresponded best with the higher or chamber pitch, and the violin was eminently a chamber instrument. In the case of the writer's violin, and a violin by Pietro Guarneri in the possession of Mr. A. J. Hipkins, Mr. Ellis found that 1885 VIOLINS. 225 every fork of his series was to a certain extent reinforced, that is to say that in no case was the tone quenched, and in no case was it reduced in strength. This power of reinforcement through all the tones of the octave is of the first importance for the production of an even quality of sound. Where this property is absent certain notes which have the proper relation to the inclosed air are strong, and out of proportion to the other notes of the scale. This property of universal reinforcement, though never in the same degree for all the notes of the scale, depends upon very subtle conditions of the general form of the violin, and also upon the form and extent of opening of the f holes in the belly through which the mass of inclosed air is in communication with the air outside. The cutting of these holes has also an important influence upon the tone through its action upon the power of vibration of the belly itself. It is obvious that the form of the cutting, and also the direction of the holes lengthwise will determine the number of the longitudinal fibres of the belly which are cut through, a wide and obliquely placed f hole cutting through a greater number of the long fibres of the wood than an f hole more nearly parallel to the axis of the violin. The number of fibres cut through will affect the quality of the belly considered as an elastic wooden plate, and should be determined by the peculiar qualities of the wood relatively to other conditions of the particular violin which is under construction. The several points which have been mentioned-a few only selected out of many-are perhaps sufficient to show how numerous and most delicately balanced are the conditions which have to be successfully met by a maker who would produce a fine-toned violin of the highest class. Violins, good up to a certain point, may be made by rule and compass, but masterpieces of beauty and of tone, such as may now be seen at South Kensington in the case labelled 'Antonio Stradivari,' cannot be produced by mechanical copying, any more than high music can come from a barrel organ, or the inspirations of a painter can be printed off from a chromo-lithographic press. The work must be after the order of that of Stradivari, who used sunlight well To fashion finest maple till it serves More cunningly than throats, for harmony At this point let us look for a moment at a part of the machinery which is not, as it is sometimes considered, of a subordinate importance. A violin is silent until its voice is evoked by drawing the bow across the strings. Every bow possesses an idiosyncrasy of its own in its power of calling forth the sound of the violin. A clever player may do wonders with an inferior bow, but the possessor of a fine violin has no easy task in finding the bow which is best adapted to produce the highest quality (not loudness) of tone from his instrument. VOL. XVIII.-No. 102.226 The Nineteenth Century Aug. We are not considering the personality of the player in respect of his choice of lightness, or of weight, or of stiffness. It may be mentioned that Sarasate, whose tone is usually pure and delicate, uses a bow which would be to heavy for almost any other player. We have seen that the quality of tone depends upon the constituent notes within it. It is well known that if in piano passages the bow is brought a little farther from the bridge, the tone is not only less loud, but it is rendered duller in quality because of the fifths or the sixth partial tone, which gives brightness, will then be absent. Alterations in quality somewhat analogous can be produced by different bows. If the hair is slack, but more firmly pressed, it will bend more over the string, and affect its velocity during the rebound, and so alter the relation of this velocity to that of the string while it is clinging to the hair of the bow. This would seem to affect the relative force of the constituent upper partial notes, and so modify the quality of the tone. another consideration is, that only very fine instruments, allow of a powerful motion of the strings, without the tone becoming disfigured by roughness. The more perfect the violin, the more vigorously may it be bowed without a loss of purity of tone, or, in other words, without the coming in of mere noise, from an irregular jarring of the instrument. The tension of the hair combined with the elasticity of the stick, should be such as to bring out most suitably the constituent partial notes, and the largest flow of pure sound that can be got, without any accompaniment of roughness, or noise. Tourte (1775-1835) stands in relation to the bow much in the same position as Stradivari to the violin. He has given us the bow, without which modern playing and delicate shades of piano and forte would be impossible. By making the bow curve inwards, he has made it possible to create great strength with elasticity and lightness. He fixed the length of the stick, spread the hairs, and showed how to give a proper balance, by pitting the centre of gravity on the right place. With feelings of gratitude the violin player should look up some fine specimens of his workmanship which are to be seen in South Kensington. Hitherto we have consider the violin form the acoustic side, as an instrument for setting the air into wave motions, but there is also an art side. In the case of many machines and instruments art comes in only in forms and the modes of decoration, which are wholly independent of the use and efficiency of the machines and instruments. In the highest violins, on the contrary, art and science ate joined in closest wedlock, and no man may put them asunder. The exquisite curves which can flow only from the hand of a true artist are those which contribute greatly to the production of the highest quality of tone. The gem-like beauty of the old varnish is the outcome of the qualities which in the highest degree 1885 Violins 227 bring about and preserve the elasticity and sonorous condition of the wood. The violins made by Stradivari have stood, through two centuries, alone and unapproached, because in them science and art are mated in a perfect union. And idiot with an oyster-shell may draw His lines along the sand, all wavering, Fixing no point or pathway to a point; An idiot one remove my choose his line, Struggle and be content; but God be praised, Antonio Stradivari has an eye That winces at false work and loves the true, With hand and arm that play upon the tool As willingly as any singed bird Sets him to sing his morning roundelay, Because he likes to sing and likes the song. There are indeed two minor which go to prove the accuracy of this general statement, namely, the colour of varnish, and the artistic feeling expressed in the curves of the scroll of the violin. It is obvious that these belong exclusively to art, and do not affect the scientific conditions on which the violin as a musical instrument depends for its perfection. It is scarcely possible to describe in general terms the subtle qualities of beauty and scientific precision of form which distinguish the noblest violins. It would be unsatisfactory to attempt a Galtonian composite of the Three Graces, or to describe by a few general epithets the individual beauties of the five maidens of Croton. The first lesson the student of fine violins has to learn is to distinguish their individuality. Each masterpiece of the great makers possesses its own peculiar charms of form and of tone. It is not less true that some general lines of construction characterize the work of each of the principle makers, as no doubt there were national characteristics common to all the five maidens who sat to Zeuxis. These broader characteristics are well illustrated in plates which accompany Mr. Harts book on "The Violin.' The writer believes that he will succeed in best making clear to those of his readers that are not experts some of the distinguishing characters of the violins of the highest class, if he gives a few short descriptions of individual violins, which may be taken as representatives of the classes to which they belong. The most perfect violins for tone and beauty are those which were made by Stradivari from a little after 1700 to about 1720, and which are technically known as the 'grand pattern.' The writer is fortunate on pcessing one of the finest violins of this period, and through the kindness of his friends Messres. W.E. Hill & Sons he has had the opportune ity of examining at leisure many very fine instruments by Stradivari and other great makers. Stradivari was a true artist in the highest sense of the word. Let Q 2228 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. anyone compare at South Kensington an early violin by Stradivari, dated 1672, when a young man of only twenty-three, and working probably under the roof of the veteran Nicolo Amati, at that time the acknowledged head of violin-making at Cremona, with a very fine. violin by Nicolo Amati himself, dated 1678. The violin by Amati charms the beholder, as a beautifully varnished piece of ex- quisite cabinet work of good form and colour, but Stradivari's work, scarcely more than apprentice as he was at the time, is of a far higher order; though made upon the same lines, it is instinct with genius, and through that wooden box the artist's soul still speaks to the beholder who has eyes to see, and ears to hear. (HE) by the nice adjustment of its frame, Gave it responsive life. The number of violins made by Stradivari is large, and they ex- tend over a working period of about sixty years. They differ in form and in the colour of the vanish. Some he clothed in golden sard, others more highly prized he overspread with topaz and ruby. Mention should be made of the scrolls of Stradivari's violins, for they stand alone in unapproached beauty. Far removed from parts of concentric circles, the curves change at every point, and yet are so closely related and so subtly combined, that no part seems as if it could be other than it is without a great loss of harmonious relation- ship. There is melody in the succession of changing forms which in their combinations become richly harmonious. Stradivari was most careful as to congruity if the scroll to the violin to which it was to be attached. Scrolls of equal beauty in themselves would lose much of their harmonious effect if attached to violins other than those to which they belong. We feel this strongly in the cases in which the heads of violins have been changed by the repairers into whose hands they have fallen. Let us look at a fine violin dated 1687. the form of this violin is exquisitely symmetrical, inclining to squareness and to a certain stiffness in outline. The f holes are beautiful, and so is the scroll; but in both the symmetry is too obvious to leave us quite satisfied. The curves of the scroll too nearly to portions of circles. Altogether there is an absence of the magical mastery by which, later on, Stradivari was able to evoke the best capa- bilities of the wood in an endless variety of curves, at once interesting, lovely, and harmonious. The wood of the belly is rather close in grain and looks hard. This may account for the f holes being arranged so as to cut more fibers of the belly than in the case of the softer wood of the violin dated 1708. The tone is refined and of a brilliant sweetness. It is somewhat wanting in rich force, and when strongly bowed a slight harshness comes in. We now take a later instrument, dated 1726, which may be regarded as a fair specimen representing Stradivari's second and third periods. 1 These extracts are taken from the note-books in which the result of the examina- tions were written by Mrs. Huggins. 1885 VIOLINS. 229 The general form of the violin of 1708 is much more masterly than that of the later instrument, which is rather waspy-looking. The parts of the form of the violin of 1708 are brought thoroughly well together, and it appears in consequence larger and more powerful, but at the same time more graceful than the violin of 1726, though by measurement the violins are if the same size. This is an excellent illustration of how much depends upon very delicate modifications of line, which most almost baffle a trained eye to detect at any one point, but which in the aggregate are seen at a glance. The f holes and the scroll indeed all the parts of the 1708 violin at much more subtle in curve and more free in execution than those of the later instrument. The subtlety of curves makes them interesting, for the interest of forms depends largely upon the stimulating mysteriousness which arises when the vary from the simple. Freedom in the execution is an important factor in the pleasure induced by the sight of a fine violin for the eye is carried on without irritating checks occasioned by lines want- ing the freedom. The freedom of Stradivari at his best is as the freedom of Gothic architecture, not as that of classical, and impresses us as an expression of unfettered aspiration, not of ordered repetition. He came to possess, through many experi- ments, an extraordinary instinctive perception of the innate capacities of the wood for sound, and also of the curves of beauty which were best adapted to the pecu- liarities of each piece of wood. The tone of the late violin does not posses the grandeur and brilliancy and reserve of force which distinguish the violin of 1708. In the Loan Collection at South Kensington are two violins deco- rated with ornaments on the ribs and scrolls, and also by ivory let in on the back and belly. In one of these instruments the decorations on the ribs and scroll are formed by the insertion of a hard black cement, on the other instrument the pattern is painted. There is little doubt that that these patterns were designed as well as executed by Stradi- vari himself. The inlaid pattern. which is much the better one, con- sists of a delicate but effective scroll-work, which is clearly marked by the same qualities of strength, delicacy, subtlety, and variety, which are present in all that the great master wrought. There can be non doubt as to the excellence of the ornament on these violins as ornament, but the question remains whether violins should be orna- mented. The writer thinks not. The forms and the colour , which are pearls of great price in violins, tell best without elaborate decoration. Simple purfling is sufficient to accentuate the outlines of back and belly. The artistic dignity of a fine violin is interfaced with when decoration, even if suitable, is introduced. There are two violins in the Loan Collection of great and pathetic interest; they are among the latest that left the hands of That plain white-aproned man who stood at work Patient and accurate full fourscore years. ' At sixty-nine he wrought placidly his best;' but even he, 'who cherished his sight and touch by temperance,' could not escape the inevitable. There is a violin, dated 1732, made when Stradivari was eighty-two. This is a good work of art; in looking at it we are con- scious of the approach rather than of the actual presence of any great loss of power. This may be looked upon as one of the last of the fine 230 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. instruments which left his hands. Only two years pass, and in the violin he made in 1734, at eighty-four, we see old age writ large in every part. With reverential sadness we mark the wavering lines, the purfling uncertain from the tool slipping in many places, the sound-holes no longer made perfect by a single cutting, but widened at the ends by two or more passings of the knife; yet it is the work of an old master; no one but Stradivari could have turned out the fiddle. The infirmity that had come upon him was of the hand only; the work shows no loss of interest of the mind, nor of failure of the eye. It is very instructive to compare the work of Stradivari with that of the only other maker who can be regarded as his rival. Let us take a fine violin by Guarnieri dated 1734. Guarnieri's great aim was to produce the deep and peculiar character of tone which distinguished his violins; and he adopted, in consequence, a model which upon the whole, with all specimens of good wood, gave this quality of tone. Beyond this he seems to have cared but little. He must have been a rough, bold, wild-spirited, humorous fellow, who could lay no claim to eternal patience, but dashed off his work. He seems to have got his basic ideas from Gaspar di Salo, but experimented for himself in an almost endless variety of sound-holes, and in various forms of box. He may be called an artist in tone, while Stradivari was an artist in form and in tone equally. Guarnieri's feeling was for the somewhat rudely simple in form, but into every line he threw immense force, and a something which suggests an artist's hand even in his wildest curves. He certainly possessed a good eye for colour, for the varnish of his fiddles is frequently of an unequalled richness of yellow or of red; but even here his impetuosity of character is plainly shown, for even splendid varnish has been often dashed on in haste. There are three fine violins by this maker in the Loan Collection, dated respectively 1738, 1740, and 1742. The tone of his violins has intense individuality; it is powerful and somewhat contralto in quality, combined with a superb mellow richness strongly tinged with melancholy. This peculiar character of the tone of Guarnieri renders it less suitable than that of Stradivari for the interpretation of all music. The former is Byronic in its strong individuality, the latter is Shakespearian in its universality of sympathy. Since the above was written a comparison made by the greatest of living players, Dr. Joachim, has been published (2). His words are:- What appears to me peculiar to the tone of Stradivari is a more unlimited capacity for expressing the most varied accents of feeling. It seems to well forth like a spring, and to be capable of infinite modification under the bow . . . as if Stradivari had breathed a soul into them (his violins) in a manner achieved by no other maker. (2) Grove's Dictionary of Music, Ar. Stradivari, vol. iii. p. 733. 1885 VIOLINS. 231 No more emphatic comment can be made on what has been said in the foregoing paragraphs than the statement which Mr. Payne makes in Grove's 'Dictionary of Music' that the great players of the past, Pugnani, Salomon, Lafont, Viotti, Baillot, Habeneck, Rode, Spohr, and Ernst, all used violins by Stradivari. In our own time, Joachim, Sarasate, Wilhelmj, Madam Norman-Neruda, Strauss, Marsick, Ludwig, Kummer, Wiener, and most of the leading violinists, play on this master's instruments. A few words on the earlier violins by the Amati family, of whom Nicolo was the greatest. These show a great advance on the instruments in use before their time: they are most beautifully made and finely varnished, but they tell of a clever workman rather than of a great artist. The scooping at the sides and the high curves of the back and belly do not permit them to have the grand tone of the fiddles of Stradivari and some other makers. The tone is, as a rule, charmingly sweet and sympathetic, and is in some cases combined with a soft fulness. Space fails to describe the really fine instruments by Carlo Bergonzi; the richly coloured violins by Ruggieri; the excellent fiddles by Guadagnini, by the Gaglianos, and by Grancino. One case at the Loan Collection is aglow with the lustrous red- varnished instruments by Santo Serafin, which are of marvellous mechanical perfection of workmanship and of fine wood. These fiddles have not a high reputation for tone, but one fine violin by this maker, which the writer had the opportunity of trying, possessed a high quality of tone. The school of French copyists should be mentioned: Pique, Silvestre, Lupot, Vuillaume, produced violins which, regarded as copies of the great Italian makers, can scarcely be surpassed. More than a word, however, must be written of the early English school. Their instruments form a class apart, for the early English makers were not servile copyists, but showed a certain sturdy originality of their own. That they had carefully considered the Italian instruments is shown in various little ways. A scroll by Jacob Rayman suggests distinctly the work of the Amati family; and the internal blocks and linings of Parker's violins are exactly like those which Stradivari put into his fiddles. That there were in England at even an earlier time workmen possessing exquisite skill in the making and the artistic decoration of musical instruments is clearly shown by the wonderful lute, once belonging to Queen Elizabeth, which was made in 1580 by one John Rose, living in the Bridewell. This lute holds its own well by the side of an elaborately carved cistre made by Stradivari a hundred and twenty years later, which may be seen in a neighbouring case. Looking at this lute, the feeling is forced upon us that the early English makers of violins should have done even better than they did. It was not to the advantage of the school that Jacob232 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. Rayman, who may be regarded as the father of English fiddle-makers, was not an Englishman, but a Tyrolese, who seems to have been more German than Italian in character. If we compare the best early English violins with the Italian work of the period, we miss the artistic spontaneousness and sense of beauty which are at home in sunny Italy, and in their place we are conscious of a certain quaintness of spirit after the same order as the outworn peculiarities of the old viol da gamba, before Stradivari's time. The English makers, up to Wamsley's time, employed too high a model for either good artistic effect or for tone of a high quality. They put into their fiddles good wood and excellent workmanship, and overlaid them with a really fine varnish; but their wood lacks the beauty and their workmanship the free grace of the contemporary Italian instruments. This obvious absence of the touch of the perfect artist shows itself, as might be expected, very strongly in the scrolls and in the f holes. Perhaps the scrolls and f holes of Urquhart's fiddles are less in fault in this respect than are those of his brother makers. The works of the later English makers, such as Fendt and Betts, show less orginality; they are fine though free copies of one or other of the great Italian makers. Altogether old English fiddles deserve more attention than they usually receive. They are most serviceable instruments, as they possess nearly always a sweet and pleasant quality of tone, and sometimes a really fine tone. They should be preferred to many second- and third-rate Italian instruments which are sold at a higher price. The English school is especially well represented at South Kensington. The student should examine the work of the following makers: Jacob Rayman, about 1650; T. Urquahrt, 1660; Edward Pamphilion, about 1685; Daniel Parker, 1714-1715; Benjamin Banks, eighteenth century; Wamsley, eighteenth century; Joseph Hill; the Fendts; John and Arthur Betts; all of the present century. There remains to be noticed in conclusion an instrument in the Brescian case at the Loan Collection, which, in point of interest, and in order of time as an archetype of the modern violin, should have had the place of precedence. It is a viola made about 1500 by a man named Zanetto, of whom we know nothing but what is told us by the few instruments of his workmanship which survive. The examination of this viola alone is sufficient to give him a place among the few great instrument makers who possessed creative genius. In this archaic- looking instrument we have before our eyes a link between the old instruments of the viol order and the violin as we now know it. The model of the instrument is good, and results from broadly beautiful forms which speak of the rare skill of the maker. The wood is fine, though peculiar, and is covered with a deep orange-brown coloured varnish of good quality. It is especially in the f holes that we become aware of the creative skill which enabled Zanetto to pass 1885 VIOLINS. 233 beyond the fettered forms of the earlier instruments. In many of these, no doubt, suggestions of a higher form were occasionally present, but to Zanetto seems to belong the great credit of raising the quaint sound-holes in use for ages into a form which could not but rise into the modern f hole, and which reached its highest development at the hand of Stradivari. The same power of passing beyond the traditions of his age is seen in the cutting of the scroll. His scroll seems an expression of an instinctive feeling that something of the form of the now familiar scroll would be a more suitable finish to the neck of the instrument than any of the numerous quaint forms we see in the earlier viols. It does not look like an accidental result, but suggests much painstaking care and direct intention. Upon the whole, we are justified in looking upon this viola as at the beginning of the modern violin family. This conclusion is strengthened when we remember that our present violins were originally called in Italin, 'piccoli violini alla Francese,' and in French, 'par-dessus,' to distinguish them from the earlier and larger instruments used in church music, which we now distinguish as the viola, or the tenor-violin; of which the viola by Zanetto, and other instruments a little later by Gaspar di Salo, to be seen in the same case, are good examples. In violins, as in all things else, there has been a slow evolution. Has the highest possible form of the violin been already reached? Is there no place left for another Stradivari? One thing is certain, that no higher stage, if such be possible, can be gained by the mere perfunctory copying which has been going on for a hundred and fifty years. Though in Stradivari's finest instruments the eye and the ear can rest with a perfect contentment, we should hesitate to say that no further advance is within the range of the possible. The distinctive characters of the tone of Guarnieri as contrasted with that of Stradivari might suggest, indeed, the possibility of some delicate modification of model which should combine the powerful mellow richness of the one with the brilliancy and universal adaptiveness of the other. The name of the man who should even equal the work of Stradivari would be famous through all coming time. To the slow evolution of the violin, no words are more suitable than the following from the pen of Mr. Ruskin: 'Not with the skill of an hour, nor of a life, nor of a century, but with the help of numberless souls, a beautiful thing must be done.' WILLIAM HUGGINS.234 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. FANCIES AT NAVESINK. The Pilot in the midst. STEAMING the northern rapids––(an old St. Lawrence reminiscence, A sudden memory-flash comes back, I know not why, Here waiting for the sunrise, gazing from this hill; ^1) Again 'tis just at morning––a heavy haze contends with daybreak, Again the trembling, laboring vessel veers me––I press through foam-dash'd rocks that almost touch me, Again I mark where aft the small thin Indian helmsman Looms in the mist, with brow elate and governing hand. Had I the choice. Had I the choice to tally greatest bards, To limn their portraits, stately, beautiful, and emulate at will, Homer with all his wars and warriors––Hector, Achilles, Ajax, Or Shakspere's woe-entangled Hamlet, Lear, Othello–– Tennyson's fair ladies, Metre or wit the best, or choice conceit to wield in perfect rhyme, delight of singers ; These, these, O sea, all these I'd gladly barter, Would you the undulation of one wave, its trick to me transfer, Or breather one breath of yours upon my verse, And leave its odor there. [*^1 Navesink––a sea-side mountain, lower entrance of New-York bay.*] 1885 FANCIES AT NAVESINK. 235 You Tides with ceaseless swell. You tides with ceaseless swell ! you power that does this work ! You unseen force, centripetal, centrifugal, through space's spread, Rapport of sun, moon, earth, and all the constellations ! What are the messages by you from distant stars to us? what Sirius'? what Capella's? What central heart––and you the pulse––vivifies all? what boundless aggregate of all? What subtle indirection and significance in you? what clue to all in you? what fluid, vast identity, Holding the universe with all its parts as once––as sailing in a ship? Last of Ebb, and Daylight waning. Last of ebb, and daylight waning, Scented sea-cool landward making, smells of sedge and salt incoming, With many a half-caught voice sent up from the eddies, Many a muffled confession––many a sob and whisper'd word, As of speakers far or hid. How they sweep down and out ! how they mutter ! Poets unnamed––artists greatest of any, with cherish'd lost designs, Love's unresponse––a chorus of age's complaints––hope's last words, Some suicide's despairing cry, Away to the boundless waste, and never again return. On to oblivion then ! On, on, and do your part, ye burying, ebbing tide ! On for your time, ye furious débouché!236 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. And yet not you alone, twilight and burying ebb, Nor you, ye lost designs alone--nor failures, aspirations ; I know, divine deceitful ones, your glamour's seeming, Duly by you, by you alone, the tide and light again--duly the hinges turning. Duly the needed discord-parts offsetting, blending, Weaving from you, from Sleep, Night, Death itself, The rhythmus of Birth eternal. Proudly the Flood comes in. Proudly the flood comes in, shouting, foaming, advancing, Long it holds at the high, with bosom broad outswelling, All throbs, dilates--the farms woods, streets of cities--workmen at work, Mainsails, topsails, jibs, appear in the offing--steamers' pennants of smoke--and under the forenoon sun, Freighted with human lives, gaily the outward bound, gaily the inward bound, Flaunting from many a spar the flag I love. By that long scan of Waves. By that long scan of waves, myself call'd back, resumed upon myself, In every crest some undulating light or shade--some retrospect, Joys, travels, studies, silent panoramas--scenes ephemeral, The long past war, the battles, hospital sights, the wounded and the dead, Myself through every by-gone phase--my idle youth--old age at hand. My three-score years of life summ'd up, and more, and past, By any grand ideal tried, intentionless, the whole a nothing, And haply yet some drop within God's scheme's ensemble-- some wave, or part of wave, Like one of yours, ye multitudinous ocean. 1885 FANCIES AT NAVESINK. 237 Then last of all. Then last of all, caught from these shores, this hill, Of you, O tides the mystic human meaning : Only by law of you, your swell and ebb, enclosing me the same, The brain that shapes, the voice that chants this song. WALT. WHITMAN 238 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. THE BURDEN OF IRELAND. IT is an unfortunate thing that the Home Rule Question is one upon which the majority of the English people are not only ignorant, but, worse even than that, are radically misinformed. As of old time, under the awful epithets of 'Divine Right' and 'Royal Prerogative,' the vices of kings were secured from the too curious investigation of the vulgar, so now such phrases as 'Decadence of the Realm' and 'Disintegration of the Empire' not only raise up prejudices of the blindest kind, but prevent all real investigation of the Irish Question, and warn away the boldest of speculative politicians from the sacred spot wherein lies the crux of the problem. Hence all consideration of the matter has been confined to the surface, and to the immediate grievance of the time put forward by the Irish people. At one time it was the Church tithe which formed the point of Irish trouble, and its repeal, we were informed, would produce, as if by the stroke of a magician's wand, a prosperous and contented Ireland. At another, the abolition of the Irish Church was the sole panacea for Irish evils, and it was accordingly ruthlessly demolished and swept away. Of late times the land system has been held up before us as the real disturber of the peace, and the most drastic remedy which modern legislation ever produced has been applied to effect its reform. Nevertheless, after fifty years of concession, Ireland still remains as of yore, unchanged, sullen, and discontented, and ever ripe for revolution. She is still cherishing near her heart O'Connell's maxim, 'England's difficulty is Ireland's opportunity.' Why is all this? To what is this disappointing failure of remedial legislation due? The answer is not far to seek; it lies on the very surface of the question. Ireland has asked for bread, and we have given her a stone. Of tinkering temporary legislation she wants none. It is reform of the whole system of Irish government and the introduction of some system of Home Rule that she asks. From the time of Mr. O'Connell to the time of Mr. Butt, from the time of Mr. Butt to the time of Mr. Parnell, underlying each of the great Irish agitations, stimulating its lawless progress, and forcing on its impetuous career, there has been a deep hatred of 1885 THE BURDEN OF IRELAND. 239 the existing legislative union, and a conviction that the success of the immediate object of the time being would bring Ireland one step nearer the time when the execrated mariage de convenance into which she was forced with Great Britain could be finally dissolved and destroyed. This is the Irish Question. This is the key to the present attitude of Ireland. It is then the object of this paper to examine briefly the shortcomings of the Union, and the more plausible suggestions which have been put forward to rectify them. Repeal of the Union is demanded on three grounds. In the first place, because its financial provisions have proved a curse to Ireland and a burden to England; in the second place, because the Imperial Parliament, as an engine for giving effect to the Irish opinion even in purely local matters, is notoriously inefficient and defective; thirdly, because the Irish people, whilst the injustice of the present system of government is rankling in their hearts, can never be governed peacefully and constitutionally, and with due regard to the revenue of the country. The fiscal relationship between Great Britain and Ireland, the mode in which the proportion of imperial expenditure to be borne by each is arrived at, constitutes the first and most evident mark for hostile criticism. To understand fully the provisions of the Union in this respect, it is necessary to glance shortly at the financial state of Ireland immediately previous to the year 1801, when they first came into effect. Her imperial revenue amounted to some 3 1/2 millions sterling, and her total public debt on the 1st of February, 1801, amounted to 27,792,975 l. (1) This debt, however, it is necessary in simple justice to add, was at that time of recent growth. It had arisen almost entirely during the fifteen years immediately preceding the Act of Union. Indeed, so late as the year 1790 its total amount had been little more than a million and a half. It must be remembered, too, that it was due in a great measure, if not almost entirely, to the troubles and convulsions caused by the stifling of the Catholic question during the last years of the Irish Parliament. It represented an abnormal period of State insecurity rather than the extravagance of a settled Government. Such briefly was the state of the Irish Exchequer in the years 1799-1800. The financial provisions of the Act of Union are contained in the seventh article, and, so far as they are material, run as follows:- That it be the Seventh Article of Union that the charge arising from the payment of interest, and the sinking fund for the reduction of the principal of the debt incurred in either Kingdom before the Union, shall continue to be separately defrayed by Great Britain and Ireland respectively except as hereinafter provided. That for the space of twenty years after the Union shall take place the contribution of Great Britain and Ireland respectively towards the expenditure of the (1) Vide Parliamentary Return dated June 22, 1849, No. 423.240 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY Aug. United Kingdom shall be defrayed in the proportion of fifteen parts for Great Britain and two parts for Ireland, and that at the expiration of the said twenty years the future expenditure of the United Kingdom (other than the interest and charges of the debt to which either country shall be separately liable) shall be defrayed in such proportion as the Parliament of the United Kingdom shall deem just and reasonable upon a comparison of the real value of the exports and imports of the respective countries upon an average of the three years next preceding such revision or upon a comparison of the quantities of the following articles consumed within the respective countries, videlicet Beer, Spirits, Sugar, Wine, Tea, Tobacco, and Malt, or according to the aggregate proportion resulting from both these considerations combined. Or on a comparison of the amount of income in each country resulting from the produce for the same period of a general tax if such shall have been imposed upon the same descriptions of income in both countries, and that the Parliament of the United Kingdom shall afterwards proceed in a like manner to revise and fix the proportions according to the said rules, or any of them, at periods no more distant than twenty years or less than seven from each other, unless previous to any such period the Parliament of the United Kingdom shall have declared, as hereinafter provided, that the expenditure of the United Kingdom shall be defrayed indiscriminately by equal taxes imposed on the like articles in both countries. Then follow provisions in event of the entire liquidation of the debt of either country, and an entire amalgamation of taxation, which it is unnecessary to quote at length, inasmuch as the contingencies contemplated have never come into effect. The first seventeen years of the Union were passed under the arrangement before quoted, viz. that the imperial expenditure of Great Britain and Ireland should be divided into seventeen parts, of which fifteen were to be furnished annually by Great Britain, and the remaining two by Ireland. How far this arrangement was equitable towards Ireland, how far it suited the capacity of her exchequer, is best shown by the figures themselves. The very first year after this provision came into effect it exactly doubled the amount of imperial expenditure which Ireland had been called upon to furnish during the preceding year. Her imperial expenditure, which had been about 3 1/2 millions, was suddenly raised to 7 millions. As might have been expected, the amount could not be raised by taxation, and for the future a large annual increase of debt became an inseparable feature of the Irish budget. For example, in the year 1806 the amount which Ireland was called upon to pay was 8 1/4 millions, of which sum she paid 4 1/2 and borrowed the rest.2 In 1815 no less than 17 millions had to be raised to pay her fixed Union quota. A sum of 6 1/2 millions was actually raised by taxation, and the remainder, 10 1/2 millions, was added to the funded debt. Whereas in the fifteen years immediately preceding the Union the imperial expenditure of Ireland all told amounted to 41 millions, an average of 2 1/2 millions yearly, in the fifteen years immediately after 2Vide Speech by Mr. Mitchell Henry, June 5, 1877. Hansard, No. 234, for figures here quoted. 1885 THE BURDEN OF IRELAND. 241 the Union it amounted to no less than 148 millions, very nearly 10 millions a year. In 1817 the financial system thus created reached its natural termination in the hopeless insolvency of the Irish exchequer, the debt having reached a sum of 130 millions sterling.3 A bold and somewhat expensive remedy was devised by the Revenue Consolidation Act which came into operation in 1817, by which the two exchequers were amalgamated, and Great Britain took upon her own shoulders all imperial expense which Ireland's income did not suffice to pay, and thus rendered herself liable for the interest upon the whole of the Irish debt. The system of taxation in both countries was at the same time placed upon an almost equal basis. Ireland, indeed, escapes one or two of the smaller taxes of the excise, such, for example as the tax on armorial bearings; she is exempt from inhabited house duty, and in common with Scotland obtains a more favourable scale of valuation for incomes under Schedule B; with these exceptions, she is treated in all respects as if she were a county of England instead of a separate kingdom. No more regard is consequently paid to the question of her separate income from imperial taxation meeting her separate expenses of imperial government, than is paid to the same matter in Ruthlandshire or Bute. The Union provisions for defraying the imperial expenditure of the United Kingdom by indiscriminate and identical taxation have been more or less fully carried into effect. As an example of unity this aspect of the question is no doubt pleasing, but when examined with reference to its effect upon the pocket of the British taxpayer it loses some of its charm. Its operation when viewed in this light is very fully set forth in a somewhat remarkable Parliamentary return issued in the year 1849.4 In this is given the total amount of the Irish imperial revenue for each year from 1817 to 1848. Side by side with this is placed the gross imperial expenditure of Ireland, calculating as a portion of it the estimated interest upon the 130 millions of Irish debt charged after 1817 upon the united exchequer. In another column is the deficit annually made good by Great Britain. This, when added up, amounts in round numbers to 130 millions sterling, and divided by 31, the number of years in which the total deficit accrued, constitutes an average deficiency of revenue of 4,200,000l. yearly. The interest of the total Irish debt calculated at 3 per cent. would amount to some four millions. Hence, over and above the whole burden of the debt, Great Britain paid during the whole of that period some 200,000l. annually for the privilege of misgoverning Ireland. Nor indeed, startling as the figures are, is the worst. The 3 Vide Official Return, No. 461, 1854. 4 No. 423, House of Commons Papers, 1849. VOL. XVIII.-No. 102. R242 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. expenses of the Army and Ordnance Departments in Ireland, as given by the return quoted, average about a million yearly, and the above calculation assumes this to be the total cost. This, however, is not so. It is stated in a foot-note that the figures under Army, Ordnance, &c., only show the amount issued out of the exchequer in Ireland for these services, and not the whole expense under these heads, the larger portion of which was defrayed from the English exchequer ; but that the amount cannot be stated, not can any official statement be given, of the naval expenditure of Ireland. It is the custom to keep not less than from 24,000 to 27,000 troops quartered in Ireland as a measure of precaution. The average annual cost of British soldiers is 100L. per annum, so that calculating on this basis the troops in Ireland cost in all some 2 1/2 millions a year, and another million and a half annually must be brought into account as coming out of the pockets of the British taxpayer. That this estimate is not an immoderate one is shown by the later returns. Take for example that for the year 1868, one of the very latest, inasmuch as since 1870, probably as a matter of prudence, it has not been thought advisable to issue any separate returns of Irish expenditure and income. As an instance, too, of what Parliament will accept under the name of information it deserves to be remembered. Net Public Income £ s. d. 6,176 390 7 8 Net Public Expenditure £ s. d. Interest on Debt paid in Ireland 1,188,654 S 1 D 9 Other payments (sic ?) : 278,014 16 0 Miscellaneous Civil Service : 1,594,524 0 0 Army L 3,560,000 0 0 Total Expenditure L 6,621,193 17 11 The cost of the army as here shown amounts to over 3 1/2 millions. A significant note to these figures states that the account only shows the expenditure of the Exchequer in Ireland. It shows, however, on the face of it a deficit of near 500,000l. It leaves out of account some 2 3/4 millions of interest due on the Irish debt. It makes no mention of the navy nor of the sums annually granted in aid of the local taxation and relief works. In all an excess of expenditure over revenue to the extent of some 3 1/2 millions. The year 1868 was no abnormal one. The number of troops stationed in the country was not in excess of the usual amount. Hence a yearly average of 3 millions sterling as the sum spent by Great Britain upon Ireland since 1848 would probably be below the mark. The following table shows the amount which Ireland has cost Great Britain since 1817:— 3 Parliamentary Paper, No. 388, 1868. 1885 THE BURDEN OF IRELAND. 243 £ Deficit paid by British Exchequer, 1817-1848, as shown by Parliamentary Paper No. 423, 1879 130,000,000 Estimated extra cost of army not shown by return, reckoned at 1 1/2 million per annum 47,000,000 Estimated deficit, 1848-1884, at 3 millions per annum 108,000,000 Total cost since Union 285,000,000 It is not disputed that some portion of the Irish debt represents imperial capital necessarily expended during the Napoleonic wars. Reckless mismanagement and a hopeless financial system are responsible, however, for at least half of it. Again, it is sometimes objected that our army in Ireland cannot be accounted a total loss, inasmuch as a large home establishment is necessary to feed our foreign service. It is, however, a suspicious fact that we keep 27,000 men in Ireland and under 4,000 in Scotland. Nor is it difficult to imagine that, were it on account of our foreign service alone, not only could the number of depôts be largely reduced, but that some less costly process of feeding our armies abroad could be adopted. As a matter of fact, the army in Ireland is nothing more or less than a red-coated police. So far from it being available for general defensive purposes, should trouble ever arise, Ireland would require an increase in her garrison, and a corresponding increase of expenditure on the part of Great Britain. The next question to be considered is the financial effect of the Union upon Ireland. If anything, it has been less favourable than in England. The equal system of taxation which the Union has given rise to, means, in plain language, the taxing of a poor country to the exact extent to which a rich one can submit with ease. It is fixing the amount of the contribution which the State requires by reference to the income of Dives, and then demanding from Lazarus a precisely similar sum. So gross are the errors which prevail upon this subject, that the fact that imperial taxation in Ireland amounts to 1l. 4s. 11d. per head, whilst in England it amounts to 2l. 1s. 8d., is sometimes quoted as a triumphant proof of the mildness of British rule in Ireland. It is difficult to conceive a more pernicious fallacy. The true test of the justice of any system of taxation is the wealth of the country and the ability to pay. The greater sum paid in England merely means that a greater percentage of the people have incomes and property coming within the range of direct taxation, hence the sum paid per head is naturally larger. It does not mean that the taxation is heavier. As a matter of fact it is far lighter than in Ireland. To prove this it is only necessary to take the wealth per head of each country and contrast it with the amount of taxation paid. The capital wealth of England amounts to 250l. per head of the population, that of Ireland is 54l. England, paying 2l. 1s. 8d. upon a capital wealth of 250l. per head,244 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. pays about 16s. per cent. upon her capital wealth. Ireland, upon a capital wealth of 54l. per head, pays 1l. 4s.1 1d., that is 48s. (2l. 8s.) per cent. upon her capital wealth, or exactly three times as much as England. Ireland beyond all doubt is heavily overtaxed; her imperial expenditure is more than she can possibly afford. A stationary revenue and constant application for grants form the imperial exchequer in aid of local taxation, relief works, and the like, point to the same conclusion. According to the high authority of Mr. m. G. Mulhall, [6] her imperial taxation and expenditure should not exceed at the most 5 million pounds annually. At the present moment she raises herself some 7 1/2 millions, and counting the sum advanced by the British exchequer for army, police, interest on deb, &c., spends no less than 10 millions. Unfortunately, to govern Ireland more cheaply whilst the system of government is alien to the wishes of her people, whilst the law has to rely upon force in place of public opinion, is a problem which remains utterly incapable of solution. The second charge which Irishmen urge against the Union is that the united Parliament is wholly inefficacious as an engine for giving that effect to legitimate Irish opinions. It is a proposition universally accepted, at least in theory, by the free and more civilised portion of the world, that the best form if government is that in which the people have their own will, as their supreme ruler and legislator. Such a government alone is considered worthy of a civilised people. Such at the present day the government of Ireland in form pretends to be. Would that it were so in substance. The people of Ireland are indeed governed by the will of the people, but it is by the will of the people of England, Scottland, and Wales, and not by the will of Ireland. The senseless shortcomings of Irish finance have, it is hoped, been made clear. Again and again the Irish members, notably Mr. Mitchell Henry, have drawn the attention of Parliament to the matter, but it has always been dexterously shelved. In 1853, it was proposed to extend to Ireland the income tax which had been previously imposed upon England. Fortified by the high authority of Sir Robert Peel, who alleged Ireland to be unable to bear further taxation, a large majority of the Irish members strenuously resisted the proposal. Their protest was, however, over- ruled by an alien majority of 200 votes. Take another instance of this, Mr. Macarthy Downing's Land Act of 1878. Even then the signs of the agrarian outburst of 1880 were clearly visible, and timely measure of Reform might have averted the coming storm. The bill was a moderate one, and supported by the majority of the Irish party. It was, however, defeated by a large majority, and as the result we 6 Contemporary Review, July 1882. 1885 THE BURDEN OF IRELAND. 245 have had the Land League, and the hasty of a revolutionary measure of reform, at the time was looked upon as an extorted concession rather than an act of justice. So far indeed as the Irish vote was concerned, the present Coercion Act was imposed by a vote of fourteen members only against thirty- eight. This aspect of the question forms the subject of bitter compliant amongst the Irish members themselves. It is the mainspring of the present National Party, who are weary of calling attention to abuses which are first of all contemptuously disregarded, than indignantly denied ; and last of all, when it is too late to prevent the injury which has accrued from them, reluctantly admitted. Disgusted at seeing the wishes of their countrymen controlled and defeated by the represent- tatives of a different race, those of the Irish members who openly despair of the possibility of governing Ireland under the present Parliamentary system, have given their absolute allegiance to the party presided over by Mr. Parnell. To be whig or tory, liberal or conservative, democrat or radical, as the occasion demands ; to openly profess the most perfect indifference for all political principle ; to vote en masse with the avowed view of impending all legisla- tion, good, bad, or indifferent ; to bring the machinery of the united Parliament to shipwreck and contempt, in the hope of ultimately driving public attention to the question of an Irish government for Ireland, is the policy which the Nationalist party candidly and openly profess. this is the party which, at the next election will beyond all dis- pute, outside Ulster and Dublin, constitute, in the fullest sense of the word, the representatives of the people of Ireland. Even in Ulster itself, the Nationalist party have a large following, and the is little doubt that Dublin herself will return Mr. Parnell. Of the extent to which Home Rule opinions prevail in Ireland, Lord Derby, a politician whose opinions is not likely to be exaggerated, has given very striking testimony. In a paper he continued to this Review some two years back, occur these very remarkable words :-- When I state my belief that the desire for Home Rule is universal amongst the poorer classes in Ireland (Protestants expected, and that a plebiscite of the whole population, if taken, would be carried In its favour by three or four to one, I am expressing an opinion not now formed for the first time, and founded on a long and interested observation of the Irish people. It is this wish of the people for a government of their own which is the deadliest foe of law and order in Ireland. It has been well observed by Guizot in his History of the English Revolution. that public opinion is the breath of the law. It is precisely because the law in Ireland has no such breath that the whole system of Castle government moves with such difficulty and pain. It id kept alive by an artificial vitality, by the presence of a large garrison and a 246 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. AUG. military police. In the eyes of the Irish people, it is law of the Saxon, a law to which they owe no obedience save such as is secured by force, a law which fails because it has neither loyalty nor duty nor patriotism at its back. The very force, too, on which it relies for its vitality is too often uncertainly and fitfully employed. A strong and openly avowed dictatorship might, indeed, eventually succeed in governing Ireland. A despotism hidden under the guise of constitutional government, and nervously fearing discovery, most assuredly never will. A law, too, which is founded on force invariably entails an expensive administration. Again, in its turns, the high rate of taxation thus rendered necessary stimulates the difficulties of the law. So by perpetual reaction upon each other, these two main curses of our government fee each other's flame, and continue in perpetuity the smouldering fires of Irish discontent. Eighty-four years of veiled despotism on the one hand, and passive resistance on the other, have elapsed since the date of the Act of Union. Are we one whit nearer the goal than in 1800? Can the most sanguine of English politicians conscientiously answer 'Yes'? To this query there is one uniform reply. It is not as a successful system of government that the Union has ever been supported. Irish poverty and over-taxation, and their consequent effect upon the British exchequer, are unfortunately no new themes. That Ireland is governed in accordance with the wishes of the majority of the Irish people, o one ever for a moment supposed. Her hostile attitude is frankly admitted. Granting all this in the continuation of the Union, and the prevalence of British supremacy in its present form, lies, so we are told, the sole hope of keeping the conflicting interest of Ireland from each other's throats, and securing at the same time the safety of our imperial interests. At this point Englishmen in general are content to leave the matter. To the political student, however, the answer is by no means a final one. In the first place it is not at all certain that a strong Royal Commission would not throw some light upon the problem, or better still, a Committee such as that moved for in 1866 by Mr. Isaac Butt. In the second place, apart from such special means of information, the history of our North American Colonies furnishes us with a very striking parallel to the difficulties of Ireland, whence much that is valuable may be drawn. As in Ireland the loyal population of Ulster has become a mark for the hostility of the nationalist peasant, so in North America the British colonist of Upper Canada was cordially detested by his French compatriot of the province of Quebec. The former, full of loyalty to the Crown, prided himself upon his adhesion to British institutions. The latter, still smarting under the defeats inflicted upon his countrymen in the Napoleonic wars, hated the name of Britain, and jealously guarded the customs 1885 THE BURDEN OF IRELAND. 247 and land laws of the old French monarchy under which his ancestors had dwelt. As, too, the latent hostility of the Irish peasant is stimulated by the political activity of his country men in America, in the same way the inhabitants of Quebec were encouraged in their disloyalty by the sentiments and opinions of their kindred in France. The conflicting interests of Ireland had in Canada a complete analogy. Religion, race, and sentiment towards Great Britain were all hopelessly involved, hence the value of the lesson taught by the final resolution of the problem. The French House of Assembly, and the British Legislative Council appointed by the governors from time to time, soon came, in Lower Canada, as the province of Quebec was then called, into open collision. A rebellion, which at one time threatened to assume somewhat serious proportions, at length broke out in 1840-41. After it had been quelled, the two Canadas, Upper and Lower, were united under one government. Difficulties, however, quickly arose. Finance, the land system, religion, and representation formed the breakers amongst which the united Legislature vainly tried to steer.7 Finally all difficulties were surmounted by the North American Confederation Act which came into operation in 1867. This substituted for the united system of government which had before prevailed a Federal Legislature at Ottawa, and gave each of the provinces there represented, as regards all domestic matters, complete internal autonomy. The beneficial effect of the change was at once felt, and Federal Canada rapidly became one of the most loyal and contented of the dependencies of the British Crown. Is there not in this a lesson to be learnt as regards Ireland? It is possible, indeed, that the establishment of a Home Rule Parliament in College Green would result in civil war. A Federal system would entirely obviate all risk of internal collision, and at the same time prevent the dangerous centralisation of power which is so strong an objection to a single Legislature. A late Governor-General of Canada, Lord Lorne, has already given his support to the suggestion.8 A system of county government will undoubtedly form part of the programme of our next Liberal Government; to extend it to a system of provincial Home Rule which would meet the views of the Irish people would not be an immoderate proposal. As a matter of fact no revolutionary step would be needful to carry it out. With the exception of such slight change as might be necessary to suit the boundaries of the new Federal States, Irish representation at St. Stephen's might remain precisely as it exists at present. The duties of Irish members would, however, be restricted to question connected with foreign policy, the Crown, the Army and Navy, and Imperial 7 Debates on Canadian Confederation, 1865. Printed by order of the Legislature. Quebec. 8 Lord Lorne, Nineteenth Century, April 1884.248 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. AUG. Exchequer, in respect of which a fixed sum would be set aside in perpetuity as Ireland's contribution. The customs tariff would also remain an imperial question. As regards internal legislation, Ireland would be divided into six Federal States, of which Ulster would form two, so as to divide as far as possible the Catholic and Protestant populations, and the county of Dublin one. Leinster, Munster, and Connaught would form, as near as could be, the areas of the three remaining. Each State would be governed by its own Legislature, and have complete control over police, land, and property laws, and all internal taxation, as in the case of the United States. As regards size, they would not be dissimilar to the smaller members of that body. Provision would of course be made for the quartering of a certain number of imperial troops at specified points through the country. It is sometimes objected to a scheme of this kind that it would not content the Irish people. Undoubtedly their leaders go much further in their demands. This much is, however, plain, that Britain cannot concede more. Home Rule, with one central Parliament, would be regarded as a stepping-stone to separate nationality; and whilst Ulster maintains her present attitude, those who granted this would lay themselves open to a direct charge of blood-guiltiness, in the certainty of civil war and subsequent English intervention. It is not probable, therefore, that were the offer generously made, with an understanding that should the scheme prove successful there would be no obstacle to the further unification of the more Catholic States, were such a thing desired, the Irish people would refuse so substantial a benefit on the ground of mere sentiment. It must be remembered too that the ravings of a people suffering under long-continued injustice are not always to be accepted as a literal statement of their demands. Such a settlement, once loyally accepted, would at least hold out hopes that the cruel shortcomings of the present system might be remedied, and would enable the British Empire, by a cheap and peaceful mode of government of Ireland, to utilise her full strength should a day of necessity arise, without fearing in the midst of her struggles paralysis from revolution at home. J. LESLIE FIELD. A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. FREDERICK SPEE (1951-1635), Jesuit, social reformer, and national poet -- a threefold appellation claiming for its subject qualities very rarely found in combination -- should be held, on this account if on no other, deserving of general interest. That he is scarcely known in this country we may conclude from the fact that he is not once mentioned by Mr. Lecky in his account of the witch-burnings, 1 although in Germany his name is inseparably connected with the first successful attempt at their repression. Jesuits, as both their friends and their enemies will, I take it, admit, are not often either reformers or poets; and the reason is not far to seek. The Jesuit in his normal state is absorbed in the work of individual direction: as regards institutions he is conservative and concerned to make the best of what he finds. If only he may pursue his apostolic fishing undisturbed, he is inclined to allow the ancient pierheads and breakwaters to stand as long as wind and wave may suffer them. As to poetry, the Jesuit is for the most part without the leisure necessary for its production. Moreover, he commits himself to no course which he cannot pursue with a definite object, and of which he cannot give an account, if called upon, minute by minute. Literature as such, except as a classical exercise for his pupils, has a tendency to irritate him as a possible derogation from the 'unum necessarium.' In theology, mathematics, physical science, in anything that admits of exact treatment, he is often an adept; but philosophy has of late become to literary and sentimental to engage his sympathy, and as to poetry, even when this is most purely religious, he is inclined to exclaim, in veriest zeal for his Master and not at all in grudging, 'Ut quid perditio haec?' Thus it is that, although there are many hundred volumes of Jesuit verses, these are almost all ludi in the learned languages -- i.e. scholastic exercises, prize poems, &c. With th solitary and partial exception of the poems of the Polish Casimir Surbief, these verses are generally supposed to be little better than creditable performances, without any life or intention beyond the occasion which called them forth. Besides Fr. Spee, of Jesuit national poets -- I mean poets who 1 Hist. Rat. in Eur. vol. i.250 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. sang naturally in their native tongue -- I can recall no one but the martyr Southwell.2 He indeed, between the exercises of his thirteen rackings, found certain intervals of enforced leisure, during which, without any scruple, lest he were omitting some more excellent thing, he could pour out his melodious plaints and praises, to his own solace and God's greater glory, in verse which his countrymen would not willingly let die. Frederick Spee was born in 1951 at Kaiserswerth, near Düsseldorf, in the principality of Cologne. His father, Peter Spee, was seneschal of the little town under the Kurfurst Truchsesz. He was a staunch and loyal man after a quiet sort, as the one incident recorded of him indicates. At a great banquet of notables, the prince, who was rapidly drifting into Lutheranism in spite of the Emperor's efforts to restrain him, when warm with wine made a violent speech full of the current antipapal slang, and then asked each of his noble guests in turn, with the exception of the Churchmen, if he had not said well. When they had all assented, he turned to Spee, who was in waiting, with 'Now, Master Peter, how say you?' Spee answered simply that he was of another mind, receiving his master's rebuke of 'Tush, thou art but a fool!' with a quiet laugh. With such a father it need hardly be said that Frederick was brought up a staunch Catholic. There is nothing recorded of his childhood except that he went at an early age to the Jesuit college at Cologne, and that his school career was exceptionally brilliant. In his nineteenth year he entered his two years' novitiate at Trèves. In 1613, he is teaching grammar and belles-lettres in his old college at Cologne, until 1616, when he leaves in order to go through his theological course, returning to Cologne in priest's orders as professor of philosophy in 1612. With the exception of a word now and again of affectionate admiration on the part of superiors and companions, there is no sign to indicate the mighty spiritual growth that was in progress, and which was to become such a beneficent power in the land. Whilst Spee was engaged in his first professorship (1618) the Thirty Years' War had broken out, and, during the occupation of Paderborn by Christian of Brunswick, the greater part of its burghers, and, generally, of the Westphalian nobility, had become Lutherans. When the country again fell into Catholic hands, Fr. Spee worked as a missionary at Paderborn and Domkanzel, in 1625 and 1626, and was the means of bringing back a large number, especially amongst the Westphalian nobility, to the Church. One incident is recorded of him during this period, too characteristic -- I might say too prophetic -- to be omitted. He had been called in to prepare a criminal for death. The picture of his past life, so empty of good works, and so choked with 2 I do not reckon Spee's contemporary, Angelus Silesius, a Jesuit poet, although both a Jesuit and a poet, seeing that his poetic fame had certainly culminated before he joined the Society. 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 251 evil for which he had made no satisfaction, held the condemned man in a very stupor of despair, from which no efforts of his confessor could rouse him. At last Fr. Spee, almost beside himself with compassion, exclaimed: --'You know the labours I have undergone for Christ: all these I freely make over to your account; only be sorry for your sins and grievous offences. Lay hold on Jesus Christ and His merits, and then you can be happy.'3 The criminal died in peace a true penitent. The next year, 1627, introduced Spee to the great vocation of his life. Philip Adolf von Ehrenberg, bishop of Würzburg, obtained him as confessor to the witch-prisons, through which numerous victims had, since the preceding year, been passing to a fiery death. I must now proceed to give a brief sketch of the monstrous phenomenon, half real, half delusive, of mediaeval witchcraft, which, in the form in which Spee came across it, he does not hesitate to characterise as the Hexenwahn; a madness in which witches, accusers, and judges share alike. A belief in witchcraft -- i.e. a system in which, in virtue of a contract explicit or implicit with the Evil One, persons who have exercised abnormal powers -- has always prevailed largely in the Christian Church, although the preternatural reality of its phenomena has never been authoritatively declared. This cannot be disputed by anyone who recollects the patristic tradition regarding the magical powers attributed to Simon Magus.4 We hear nothing of any ecclesiastical legislation on the subject till the eighth century, when a Council of Paderborn (785) condemned to death 'anyone who, blinded by the Devil, heathenwise should believe a person to be a witch and man-eater, and should on that account have burned him or eaten his flesh, or given it to others to eat.'5 It is sufficiently noteworthy that this earliest canon on the matter is a condemnation, not of witches, but of witch-burners. Again, in the so-called Canon of Ancyra, most probably from a ninth-century Frank or German capitulary, which made its first appearance in Region's collection, 6 witchcraft is treated rather as a delusion than anything else. The witches are condemned for believing or professing 'that they ride by night with Diana, goddess of the Pagans, or with Herodias and a countless number of women upon certain beasts, and silently and in the dead of night traverse many lands, obeying her commands as their mistress, and were on certain nights summoned to do her service.' See, too, in the same sense the decress of Auger of Montfaucon, bishop of Conferans, in the south of France, at the close the of the thirteenth century.7 3 Merit is not properly transferable; not so good works in their satisfactory character, if God so wills. 4 See Justin, Apol. i. 26; Hippolytus, Refut, qu. 6; St. Cyril Heiros. Cat. vi. Illum.; St. Max. Tour. Serm. in Fest. S. Petri. 5 Quoted by Diel, Spee, Skizze Biog. und. Lit. p. 26. 6 Circ. 906. 7 Montfaucon, L'Antiq. Expliq. Lib. iii.252 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. Unfortunately for the interests both of humanity and religion, the later mediæval decrees against witchcraft were not framed upon this model. They assumed, on the contrary, as the basis of their estimate of facts, the confessions of the supposed witches—i.e. of persons whose imaginations were in such a condition of abnormal excitement as to render their statements in the main untrustworthy. The result was an infectious kindling of the popular imagination, known as one of the most terrible of the mass-manias of the Middle Ages, the Hexenwahn. As I have already implied, the contrast in the character of the legislation of the earlier and later middle ages is not to be accounted for by any change of belief in the reality of witchcraft in general, whatever might be said of certain of its phenomena. The story of Cyprian and Jovita, in the 24th oration of St. Gregory Nazianzen; the famous passage of St. Augustine8 on the commerce of demons with women, together with the patristic passages, referred to above, on Simon Magus, were accepted as expressing the standard doctrine by such writers as Venerable Bede in the seventh century9 and by Hincmar, the most enlightened and ablest of the Frank bishops in the ninth century.10 Various suggestions have been made by way of accounting for the growth of witchcraft, real or putative, between the ninth and sixteenth centuries. Such afflictions as the Black Death; the disturbance arising from religious differences; the intoxication of the New Learning, may each have played their part in bringing it about. Sundry of the Popes, too, contributed to the disastrous movement, especially Innocent the Eighth, in his celebrated bull Summis desiderantes affectibus (1484). It is, however, only fair to recognise that the Popes did nothing more than accede to the demand of the whole community, accepting the evidence that was given them. In the Bull of Innocent the Pope endeavours to bring the trials into the ecclesiastical courts. But the whole movement was far more a lay than a clerical one. The laity carried everything before them in the witch-courts as Spee points out, to the grievous prejudice of justice and decency. How little the Popes themselves had to do with initiating these horrors is proved by the statement of Spee, which I believe is allowed to be strictly accurate—viz. that in central Italy but few were burned for witchcraft, in Rome itself not one single person. At the beginning of the sixteenth century the persecution was at its height in France, whilst it culminated in Germany nearly a century later. We have the Archdeacon Remigius, in his work on Witchcraft, published early in the sixteenth century, boasting that in Lorraine in fifteen years he had procured the burning of 800 witches. It is some satisfaction to know that he was himself afterwards burned upon the same charge. At Geneva, when Calvin was supreme, during the three months between February 17 and May 15, 8 De Civ. Dei, xv. 23. 9 See In Lu. Lib. iii ap. 8. 10 See De Divort. Loth. et Teth. p. 654. 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 253 1545, there were executed thirty-five witches, and amongst them the executioner's own mother. In Scotland, the Presbyterian witch executions were peculiarly atrocious. The malignant prolongation of torture night after night in order to secure sleeplessness was, I believe, a Scottish speciality. In this ghastly arena Protestants and Catholics were ardent rivals, as though to keep themselves in practice for one another. In the single town of Elwang, in Swabia, during the space of two years, 1611-1613, when its spiritual direction had been entrusted by its bishop to the Jesuits, 300 witches were burned; amongst them a young girl of sixteen on her own delation, and a young bride who on her was to church gave herself up as a witch.11 At Würzburg, between the beginning of 1627 and February 1629, 158 witches were burned in twenty-nine burnings. Amongst them we find fourteen vicars (curates) of the principal church, three canons, several town-councillors, a chancellor's widow, a doctor of theology, several youths and boys of noble family, a blind maiden, a little girl of nine with her still smaller sister, many respectable burghers; Gobel Babelin, the prettiest girl in Würzburg, and a sprightly student who knew many languages and was an excellent musician.12 In sober truth, every exceptional person was liable to the suspicion of witchcraft—the exceptionally clever, the exceptionally stupid, the exceptionally ugly, the exceptionally pretty. Under Popery, says James the First,13 there were more ghosts, but after the Reformation there were more witches; more putative witches anyhow, and possibly more real ones, for ghost-seeing is a recollection of the past, witchcraft a promise of the future; and, whether for good or evil, the Reformation was at least a new departure. I neither Catholics nor Protestants can escape the guilt of the persecution, so neither have failed to furnish protestations against the abuse. The first voice raised on the side of humanity, so far as I know, was the voice of that wonderful anticipator of good things, Cardinal Nicholas de Cusa, Papal Legate in Germany in 1452, who used these weighty words:— Where men believe that these witchcrafts do produce their effect, there are found many witches. Neither can they be exterminated by fire and sword; for the more diligently this sort of persecution is waged, so much the stronger grows the delusion. The persecution argues that the Devil is feared more than God, and that in the midst of the wicked he can work evil; and so the Devil is feared and propitiated, and thus gains his end. And though, according to human law and Divine sanction, they (the witches) deserve to be utterly extirpated, yet we must act cautiously, lest worse come of it.14 He goes on to say that he examined two of the poor women, and found them half crazy. These he received to penitence, together 11 Hist. Prov. Germ. Sup. Decas viii. No. 184. 12 Hauber, ap. Diel, p. 34. 13 Dæmonolog. lib. ii. 7. 14 Ap. Hartzheim, Vita Card. de Cusa, pars ii. cap. 8.with another, a convert of Denys the Carthusian. He had summoned the renowned solitary from his retreat to be his assistant in the work of gentle reformation. The light which promised a new dawn of humanity vanished with its author. In the first half of the sixteenth century the Protestant Ulrie Molitor, at Constance (De Lamiis et Pythonicis Mulieribus), and Cornelius Agrippa, at Metz (De Occulta Philosophia), attacked the reality of witchcraft and the character of the persecution. The latter even succeeded in establishing the innocence of one of the condemned, and so saving her. His reward was depreciation, repute of magic, and frequent imprisonment. Weier's book (De Prœstigiis Dœmonum) appeared in 1563. Its author was a Protestant physician attached to the person of Duke William of Cleves. The book produced a great sensation, but no practical effect. The writer was vehemently assailed by his co-religionists, and if it had not been for the protection of the Duke, it would have gone hard with him. In England Reginald Scot, in Holland the priest Cornelius Loos, carried on the war against the Hexenwahn. Loos died in prison, and his companion Dr. Hade at the stake. I do not care to enumerate works on the other side, of which there were only too many. To oppose, or in any way to criticise, the conduct of the witch-processes was at that time a work of the utmost peril. The Jesuit Adam Tanner, chancellor of the University of Prague, had ventured, in his Scholastic Theology, published in 1627, to reflect upon the justice of the procedure, and to urge milder measures. After his death, in 1632, his body was torn from its grave and burned by an infuriated mob, as that of a witch-fosterer, if not an actual wizard. To use an expression of Brentano's, Spee was called upon 'to stay a scythed chariot drawn by wild horses under the lash of a drunken driver.' He was prepared for his task by two years of such an experience as to a man of his sympathetic nature must have been little short of a living death; and at the end of the two years it is not surprising that the authorities were glad to be quit of him. He had wearied them out with his ceaseless expostulations, and his undisguised sympathy with their victims. He left his office at the age of 39, with the white hair of premature old age, but with a heart on fire with the matchless wrongs of which he had been perforce a helpless spectator. Of what these wrongs were he gives us several examples in his Cautio Criminalis. To begin with: of the 200 victims whom in his capacity of gaol chaplain he had to attend at the stake, there was not one, he tells us, of whose guilt he could convince himself, whilst numbers, he was assured, were innocent. One of his latest experiences were as follows:-A young woman came to him from a neighbouring hamlet in great distress because people were beginning to accuse her of witchcraft. But the worst of all her grief was this, the anxiety lest, confessing herself to be a witch whilst on the rack, she should die with a lie upon her lips and so peradventure lose her soul. As to this last trouble only is Fr. Spee able to give her consolation: he tells her that a merciful God will not reckon against her what she may say in the stress of torture. She goes home greatly comforted, and in due course is racked and burned, but with such conspicuous marks of innocence that, as the authorities tell Spee with malicious ingenuity, if she had not come to Spee she might really have been let off. The Cautio Criminalis was completed soon after the year of Spee's dismissal, 1629, and was at once circulated largely in manuscript. It was first printed in 1631 at the Protestant press of Rintel. Although anonymous, its authorship would seem to have been from the first an open secret. It is a collection of theses in Latin, and closely argued, against the abuses inherent and accidental of the witch-processes, with interludes of vivid description and expostulation. Its plain-speaking is simply tremendous. It is characteristic of the writer that in his hands the syllogistic process seems here to kindle and culminate in fiery bursts of indignation, just as in his compositions on happier themes his prose so frequently blossoms into song. The soft-hearted sentimental poet, as the lawyers thought him, in whom the love of God and man was the one absorbing passion; a man so gentle that even in those fierce times he was never known to use a harsh word even of a heretic, swept down upon them with falcon clutch, and, more dreadful still, with a voice that rang in the ears of men with the shrill thronging notes of his own 'nightingale'. It was verily 'the wrath of the Lamb,' that last worst threat of outraged mercy. He paints in vivid colours the hopeless tangle of accusation in which the poor victim is involved. 'Gaia' (the accused) is either of bad or good repute. If the former, her reputation grounds a presumption of guilt, for vices go in company. If the latter, there is an equivalent presumption against her, for witches are wont to cloak themselves under an appearance of virtue. Again, Gaia either manifests fear or she does not. If she fears, her fear shows that she is aware of what is in store for her, and is a proof of her consciousness of guilt. If she has no fear, this is yet another proof (indicium) for witches constantly make a lying presence to innocence. What matters it if there is a failure of adverse evidence! she is racked till she becomes her own accuser. She is allowed neither advocate nor the liberty of self-defence, and, were an advocate allowed her, no one would be found bold enough to face the suspicion of sorcery. 'And so every mouth is closed, and every pen paralysed, that they neither speak nor write.' Even when she is permitted to explain, no one takes the slightest notice of her explanations. If she insists upon her innocence, she is remanded to prison, where she may bethink herself seriously if256 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. she will still be obdurate, for exculpation is nothing less than obduracy. She is then brought back and the rack programme is read over to her. ' all this constitutes the first stage of her agony, and if she then con- fesses, she has confessed without the rack.' And after such a trial as the Gaia is without a scruple hurried to the stake ; for, whether she confesses or not, her fate is sealed--she must die. Whether Gaia rolls her eyes in the agony of torture or keeps them fixed, either way it is a proof of guilt. If she rolls her eyes, why else does she so but to seek her ( demon ) paramour ? If her eyes were fixed, ' Look there,' they cry, ' she has found him, she recognises him !' When after repeated rackings, she holds her peace, when they look on her face and see her biting down her pain, or when she swoons, they proclaim that during her torments she laughs and sleeps ; that she has obtained an insensibility by charms ; that she is so tough that there is nothing for it but to burn her. Although the executioner is an adept in using his instruments to the extremest limit of what human sinews and joints can sustain without rupture and dislocation, yet the most skillful and experienced master fails sometimes. When, as sometimes happens, the accused dies under torture, it is said that the Devil has throttled her, and then forsooth the proper thing is done, as they phrase it, and Gaia's corpse is whipped out and buried by the executioner at the gallows' foot. But suppose Gaia does not die under the torture, and the executioner's conscien- tiousness is such that, without fresh evidence against the accused, he will neither torment her any more, nor, without her having confessed, attach her to the stake, she will return to prison and be loaded with still heavier fetter ; and they willo leave her a whole year in a solitude of her dungeon to the influences of her situation upon body and soul. The consequence being that, what with the mental condition of the distracted prisoner on the one side, and the keenness of the Gaia alive ' on the best academic authority.' Why take all this trouble ( he cries ) to find witches and sorcerers? Believe me, and I will show you where for the future you may find them. Quick ! Catch me the very best capuchin, the very best Jesuit, the very best priest ; fling him on the rack, and forthwith he will confess. Is he stubborn ? it is because he is protecting himself with charms ; but persevere, and you will break him down in the end. And if you want more of them, lay hold of the prelates, deans, and doctors of the Church. I'll warrant you they will soon confess. He complains bitterly of the ignorant inexperienced priests who are sent as confessors : who submit themselves only too readily, as he expresses it, to ' the judge's harness.' He bids them remember that their office requires them, not to stand as a penal instrument between judge and criminal, but as an instrument of reconciliation between criminal and God. He describes his horror at the abuse of the Sacrament of Penance, when the priest gave out that he would hear no one who would not begin by confirming the truth of the rack-wrung de- position, He gives minute directions how to avoid the snares laid by unscrupulous judges for entrapping the unwary confessor into what might be construed into an admission of the guilt of his penitent. 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 257 He animadverts on the rulers both Church and State for their supine- ness in leaving these enormous abuses unnoticed and unredressed. Of the Jurists he says :--- There they sit, close to the stove, and hatch commentaries. They know nothing of pain, and yet discourse largely of the tortures to be inflicted on poor wretches, just as one born blind might compose learned dissertations on colours. To these might well be applied the words of the prophet Amos : ' They drink wine from their cups, and anoint themselves with the best oil, and concern themselves not at all for all the sorrows of Joseph.' But out them for half or a quarter of an hour on the fire : how will all their mighty wisdom and philosophy collapse ! They philoso- phise in a childish fashion upon matters which the know naught. 19 One great abuse against which Fr. Spee had to contend---an abuse acknowledged as such by all respectable writers---was the committing persons sto the rack on the ere rack-extorted evidence of the criminal. He point s out that every such process had to be stopped abruptly, lest there should be no limit to the parties in- volved. But, further than this, Spree attacks the whole system of the witches themselves. And in this as well as others points--viz. that insensibility is a sign of witchcraft--he finds himself in oppose- tion to authorities of repute, such as Sprenger and Delrio. He feels that the whole system, speculative and practical, is treacherous and pernicious ; and he will be stayed in his onslaught by no authority, good or bad. He solemnly challenges the judges to show him how poor Gaia, on whatever hypothesis of innocence, can possibly escape. 1. Isolated, unsympathetic students, and pious but inexperienced religious ; 2. Interested lawyers ; 3. the ignorant and spiteful rabble ; 4. Dabblers in witchcraft, whose object is to avert suspicion. The German world of Spree's time had witchcraft on the brain. Its barest suspicion made the boldest tremble, and the fear of it clung like a blight to all the higher developments of life. Spee declares that many priests, who would otherwise have said mass every day, abstained from doing so, lest an appearance of somewhat extra piety should be supposed a cloak for witchcraft ; and the veteran Tilly, on one of the latest of his victorious battle-fields, when struck by a spent ball which bruised the skin without drawing blood, had to divert the charge of witchcraft by an appeal to other bloody wounds. It must not be supposed that Fr. Spee did not recognize the diabolical reality of many of the phenomena connected with magic, and various degrees of complicity therein on the part of witches. He saw, however, that the remedy was infinitely worse than the disease ; that it was no remedy, but rather the great propagator of the disease--the seat of which lay mainly in the imagination---by its 19 Dub. xx. VOL. XVIII.---NO. 102. S258 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. morbid excitation of that faculty; that its method of procedure was characterised throughout by hideous injustice, involving a multitude of innocent victims for one guilty. He strove, therefore, to stop the prosecutions, to stop torture altogether; and, where this could not be, to limit its use by the most stringent conditions, securing that it should never be used more than once in the same case. Above all, he endeavoured to restore the poor victims, whether innocent or guilty, to the communion of Christian charity, whence the character of witchcraft as a 'crimen exceptum' had gone far to remove them, even as regards their confessors. Be a true father (he cries to these last) and comforter of the afflicted; beg the poor things to give themselves wholly to you, for that you will carry them in your heart. Oh, learn sympathy with grief; feel their suffering as though they were your own. Tell them you would willingly give your life for them were it possible; promise that you will never forsake them. Do not allow these victims to complain that they have found no consolation. 20 In the name of humanity, justice, religion, and patriotism Fr. Spee appealed to his country: it was not in vain. In Wurzburg the executions ceased almost immediately; the Dukes of Brunswick followed the example; and before the year 1631 was out, the Impe- rial Chancery took up the book and ordered a new edition. Sporadic examples of witch-burning lasted on far into the next century, but the tide was really turned. Fr. Spee's book, however, was not left unopposed. His principal and fiercest opponent was the great Protestant jurist and scholar, Benedict Carpzov, but no real head was made against him. Two editions appeared in 1632; a large portion was translated into German in 1647; a complete German translation was published in 1649, a Dutch in 1652, a French in 1660, an another edition of the original Latin in 1695. 21 Spee gives an amusing story 22 of a sudden conversion to the cause of humanity, very much as if he had been an eye-witness. Anyhow he pledges himself that it s 'no fable,' as he knows both place and persons. At a place in Germany, 'choke full of ashes' from the witch-pyres, he tells us, a certain great prince was entertaining at his table two virtuous and well-informed ecclesiastics. In the course of conversation the prince asked one of them what he thought of the practice they had been hitherto pursuing, of accepting then or twelve affidavits purporting that the witnesses had met this or that person at the Sabbath, as sufficient to warrant the arrest and racking of the accused. He expressed some scruple on the point, seeing that the Devil is such an absolute master of delusion. The good father answered with the a priori dogmatic glibness characteristic of those 'who have been scarcely four feet from their own stoveside,' that the judge might rest quite satisfied with such a number of affidavits, since it is not possible to suppose that God would allow 20 Dub. XXX. 21 Einleitung, xvii. 22 Cautio, qu. 48. 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 259 an innocent person to be so assailed, and that he might proceed without scruple to the torture. The prince still demurred, but the priest stuck firmly to his position. ' I really feel for you, my father,' the prince concluded, ' for having thus pronounced your own sen- tence, and foregone all power of complaint against me for clapping you into prison, seeing that no less than fourteen persons have deposed to your having been with than at the Sabbath ; and, that you may not think I am joking, you shall presently see the documents.' ' And there stuck my fine fellow, looking like a pat of butter in the dog-days.' In November 1628 Fr. Spee was sent on a mission to Peina, a Lutheran township, which had come into the hands of the Archbishop of Cologne, and upon which had come to exercise the ; jus reformandi.' To do the archbishop justice, he seems to have done little in the way of coercion, beyond insisting upon orthodoxy as a qualification for the town council. Fr. Spee met with his usual success. Few, indeed, were ever found equal to resisting his personal address. Several, even of the Lutheran clergy, were received by him, and amongst them one who went by the name of ' mad Sire Tyle' ( tolle Herr Tyle ), a very worthy fello, who became quite devoted to the Jesuit. Tweenty-three if the neighbouring villages, and subsequently the town itself, embraced the Catholic faith. One incident in connection with this mission deserves to be minutely recorded. On Sunday morning ( April 29, 1629 ) Spee had to ride to the neighnouring village of Woltorp, where he was to say mass. He rode alone, and his way lay over a wild piece of moorland interspersed with pine-woods, when he was suddenly encountered by another rider. Thisman was a fanatical Lutheran, who, irritated by Spee's successes, was determined to bring them in the spot to a violent conclusion. He began by giving Fr, Spee a piece of his mind, and the missionary, seeing what was coming, invoked our Lady and St, Ignatius, and clapped spurs to his horse in a bold attempt to push past. The ruffian fired, and though the bullet seems to have gone wide of its mark, for some reason or other, Fr. Spee' horse fell. He managed, however, to get his beast on its legs, and, escaping a second bullet, dashed on for the village. The assassin, finding the pace too quick for a steady ain, drew his sword, and, as they got into the open, managed to ride into Fr. Spee, and deal him some severe cuts over the head. Still he sat upright, and his horse kept his pace, and in a few minutes the assassin was distanced, and Fr. Spee rode into the market-place of Woltrop, his face streaming with blood from six wounds on the head or two on the left shoulder. there he was met by his faithful Herr Tyle, who wept and bemoaned himself at the sight, swearing too a little, gently. Spee quited him, and begged for some warm water at once to wash his wounds, in s 2 260 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. order that he might begin the mass. The worthy man, however, who knew something of what appertained to flesh-wounds, went off shaking his head. He soon returned bringing with him cold water, lint, and fresh eggs, and with the remark, 'Warm water, my father, is no good; cold is what you want,' he proceeded to dress the wounds. He cut away the flaps of scalp-skin that were hanging over his patient's face, washing the wounds, and bound up his head in a sort of plaster made of the eggs. Although Spee was suffering agonies, he insisted, in spite of the tearful protestations of his congregation, upon entering the church and beginning the service. He got as far as the Gospel, that of the Good Shepherd and the Hireling, which he read to the people, and then said:- 'My dearest children, judge for yourselves whether I am a good shepherd or a hireling. I bear the insignia of a true and loving shepherd upon brown and shoulder.' He wished to continue, but his strength failed him, and he had to lean against the chancel rail. He soon recovered, and after praying for his assassin, insisted upon their singing the hymn 'Great God, we praise Thee,' but the only response was loud weeping. Then Spee cried to the sacristan, 'Sing away! when are you going to being? Swing with a will!' and though he fainted, and had to be carried out, the congregation, anxious to fulfil the last command of their good shepherd, sang the hymn through, which was broken by their lamentations and sobs. When Spee came to himself he was taken back to Peina. They had to tie him on his horse, and the faithful Herr Tyle, armed with blunderbuss and sword, held the bridle. He was accompanied the best part of the way by the entire population. Nothing could exceed the sorrow and affection with which he was received by the people of Peina, who vied with each other for his proper nursing and attendance. However, feeling that he was in a most precarious state, and anxious to die, if so it was to be, amongst his brethren, he got himself removed to the Jesuit house at Hildesheim, where he lay for eleven weeks at the point of death. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered, he hurried abck to Peina, and completed his work of reconciliation in September 1629. His semi-martyrdom had made his influence in all that neighbourhood irresistable. Perhaps we may best realise the singular power of his peculiar reputation from the fact that the monks of the great Benedictine Abbey of Corvy, which had fallen at that time into a state of great relaxation, invited Fr. Spee to their assistance, went through the exercises of St. Ignatius under him, and became thoroughly reformed. He had indeed learned the whole art of the Good Samaritan - the oil and the wine and the bandages - in the witch-prisons of [[Wurzburg]], and the most sensitive felt that they could trust their sorest wounds to his handling. Towards the close of the same year Fr. Spee was sent by his superiors to the old Abbey of Falkenhagen, not far from Corvy, which, [[end page]] [[new page]] 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 261 having been long deserted by its monks, had been made over some years before to the Jesuits. To this peaceful spot, amongst woods and mountains, Spee retired, under orders to rest and recruit his strength; and it wa during this year of leisure that he is thought to have composed the greater part of the poems which form the volume entitled [[italics]] Die Trutznachtigall. [[/italics]] However this may be, we know that here he put the finishing touches to his [[italics] Cautio [[/italics]] beore he let it escape from his hands into those of the enterprising friend who got it printed, and that with this period of his life are associated the poems which have made Fr. Spee one of the literary celebrities of his country. Jesuits are apt to resist the [[italics] dolce far niente [[/italics]], even when it is prescribed them under obedience, and something in the shape of missionary work was a necessity of Spee's life, which no form of literature could supply. This he satisfied by looking up and consoling every afflicted person in his thinly-populated neighborhood. He has let us into the secret of his unrest :- [[quote]] When, on a fair morning, I was considering the sufferings of Christ, and weeping sore with compassion, I asked my Lord which word out of His whole Passion ought to move me the most strongly; He answered 'That little word I THIRST, for it transpierces body and soul; for not only in My flesh, but inwardly in My soul, I have thirsted for the salvation of men.' [[/quote]] The [[italics]] Trutznachtigall [[/italics]] is itself an outcome of a twofold thirst for the enjoyment of God and the salvation of man. The poet has, indeed, sung with his breast against a thorn, yet with such music and delicacy of expression, and with such a strong lyric cry, that even men to whom his subject-matter was least congenial have recognised perforce in his 'melodious tears' a genuine expression of love, a love stronger than death and hell. [[italics]] Trutznachtigall [[/italics]] may be translated 'Vie-nightingale,' or 'a rival of the nightingale'; for the poet would fain vie with the nightingale in his praises of the Creator. The notion of such competition between bard and nightingale is a very common one in the Middle Ages. Albert the Great testifies, [[footnote 23]] 'Of this bird I have myself experienced, that it flieth towards those who sing, if they are singing well, and the while they sing listens attentively, but afterwards, as though striving for victory, repeateth the song and answereth.'[[footnote 24]] If ever there was a spontaneous volume of poems, it is the [[italics]] Trutznachtigall [[/italics]], and the author's grave little introduction, which might have been written by a schoolmaster editing a volume of selections, has a most quaint effect. It is characteristic of the Jesuit, who must needs give a quite rational account of his every [[footnote 23]] [[italics] De Animal. [[/italics]] Lib. 23. [[footnote 24]] See, too, the [[italics]] Philomena [[.italics]] of john of Hoveden, commonly attributed to St. Bonaventure. Ford's [[italics]] Music's First Martyr [[/italics]], and Crashaw's [[italics]] Music's Duel. [[/italics]]262 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. AUG. action. Now and again we catch the poet's natural voice, as here:-- ' Je anders nichts allhie gesucht noch begehret wird, als dasz Gott auch in teutscher Sprach seine Poeten hatte.' However, his dainty choice of words, though not excluding many a quaint provincialism, and the perfection of his rhythmical technique and accentuation, which marked a new phase in the poetical development of the German lan- guage, certainly justifies his presentation of his poems as a contribu- tion to the educational work to which his order had devoted itself. The following stanzas from his EINGANG, which I have ventured to translate in the same metre, represent perfectly the general scope and character of his themes:-- Vie-nightingale we turn it, Wounded of Love's sweet dart, So shrewdly doth Love burn it That none may heal its smart; Gold, pomp, all earthly guerdon, Life, joy it doth despise, Counts all but God a burden, Seeks God the only prize. Ever it chimes to mortals Of God and God's dear Son, Ever at heaven's portals Pours all its notes in one; From tree to tree it springeth, It floats o'er hill and dale, In field and forest singeth, To count its notes we fail. Full many a journey makes it, of its home-sky bereft, An olive garden takes it, It mourns in hollow cleft; Anon with joy it singeth Vie with the lark it will, And praising God upwingeth Full may a holy hill. Above the meads it hovers, It is of shepherds seen, Where Kedron it discovers Among the pastures green; It frames a pretty battle Of Verselets in its song, And pipes of shepherd's prattle, And sits the sheep among. Nor longer there it bideth, But Lifts it high in the air, Through empty space glideth On weary pinions fair; On the Greta Tree ten lights it, High on the Place of Skulls, Whence nothing now affrights it, Where naught its passion dulls 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 263 The poems may be divided into hymns to the creator on such themes as are suggested by the different verses of the 'Benedicite'; elegies on the Passion and subjects connected therewith. Here the poet sometimes adopts the form of shepherd dialogues after the model of Virgil's Eclogues, and colloquies of the soul with the Divine Spouse. Besides these, there is what may be called a ballad of St. Francis Xavier, and two dogmatic hymns, one on the Trinity, the other on Corpus Christi, these latter resembling in the closeness of their dog- matic texture the 'Pange, Lingua,' or the 'Lauda, Sion.' The eclogues are generally supposed to be the least successful of Spee's efforts: they are certainly the least congenial to any subsequent phase of taste, The most successful are those which are most direct and lyrics in their character. To Fr. Spee the whole creation was a vast instrument ever re= sounding the praises of its Creator. Nature presented him with an endless pleasure-garden, the delights of which he keenly appreciated; but through its green lawns was ever flowing ' the brook Kedron,' the stream of the Passion, and its most delicate beauties were ever mini- stering in the poet's mind to the solemn scenes of Olivet and Calvary, and were enhanced tenfold by their service. Flowers and fruits are ever a delight to him, and he heaps together the tender country names of flowers--- often poems them- selves-- with the fervour and profusion of an Elizabethan poet (Poem 22): -- Ei da, du guilden Kaiserskron, Aus vielen auserkoren, Auch Tausendschon und Widerton, Nasturz and Rittersporen, Jelangerlieber, Sonnenthau, Basilien, Brunellen, Agleyen auch und Barenklau Dann Mohnsam, Glock und Schellen. 25 He pictures fruit as a 'children's dream,' black cherries, and peaches 'was as sallow death,' I confess he had suited our taste better had he stayed his metaphor with the Lauteate's 'apples wan with ripeness,' and let the image of death alone; however, it was hardly an ungracious image to him. In his tenderness for birds, 'das Federbuschlein zart,' one is reminded of Blake's 'Songs of Innocence,' and he hangs over their nests 'Kinderbettlien,' Like a mother over her ---------- 25 Ho there! thou golden Caesar's= crown, Chosen from out so many, Amaranth and maidenhair, With knightspur and nasturtium, With honeysuckle and sundew, And brownwort and sweet-basil, Acanthus too and columbine, Poppies, bluebells, and harebells.264 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. baby's cot. His twentieth poem is a hymn in which he and the birds, his 'winged psalteries,' form the choir. Of course the nightingale is his choragus:–– O Nachtigall, du schöne, Verdienest rechter Weis, Man dich fürnehmlich kröne, Mit höchstem Ehrenpreis, Wie magst es je doch machen, So sauber, glatt und rund? Das Herzlein dir möcht krachen, Fürcht ich, wanns geht so bunt. ^26 In Poem 5 he teaches the nightingale the Holy Name:–– Ach ruf und ruf, o Schwester zart, Mein Jesum zu mir lade, Mir treulich helf zu dieser Fahrt, Dann ich in Zähren bade. O Schwester mein, Sing süsz und rein : Ruf meinen Schatz mit Namen ; Dann kurz, dann lang, Zieh dienen Klang : All Noten greif zusammen ! ^27 The nightingale vies with her echo in this holy contest till 'her high heart breaks,' and 'the golden lamp is extinguished by the strong gale' of song. But the last note is a sigh so subtle that no echo can repeat it, and the poet lays the crown of victory upon her corpse, and goes his way with the wish that he may inherit her voice and her fortune. In Poem 13, 'a picture (Conterfey) of a man's life,' the lovely flower which must die before nightfall is dwelt upon with a tenderness which the type appropriates as well as the antitype:–– ^26 O nightingale beloved, Thou servest in right wise, And so they crown thee foremost, As for the highest prize. Those notes how couldst thou utter, So clear and smooth and round? Thy small heart must be bursting, I fear, so quick the sound. ^27 Ah! call and call, my sister dear, My Jesus bring unto me ; True help in this my need afford, For I in tears am drowning ; O sister mine, Sing sweet and fine, My Treasure for me naming ; Now quick, now long, Wind out thy song, And bind all tones together. 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 265 Da gund es lieblich blicken, Gab auch so süszen Ruch, Ein' Kranken mochts erquicken, So läg im letzten Zug. Ein Lüftlein lind von Athem, Rührt an das Blümelein : Da schwebts, als an ein' Faden Gebundens Vögelein. ^28 And the lamentation is for both:–– Die Seel hats auf der Zungen, Allweil wirds blasen aus ; Nun musz es sein gerungen Mit Tod und letztem Strausz. O weh der kurzen Stunden ! O weh, da schläft es ein ! Jetzt, jetzt ist schon verschwunden Mein zartes Blümelein. ^29 In the Goldnes Tugendbuch, of which I shall speak more particularly hereafter, and which contains an earlier version of many of the poems of the Trutznachtigall, the version of the Conterfei has some beautiful touches of its own––e.g. v. 4:–– So selig auf dem Stiele Schwanket blühend hin und her, Als ob mit Engeln spiele, Als ob kein Tod mehr wär. ^30 And (v. 6) we have the agreement of childhood and old age in their estimate of flowers:–– ^28 So daintily it glitters, Gives forth so sweet a breath, The sick it might enliven, Though lying sick to death ; A zephyr gently playing Uplifts the flower's head, Which to and fro is swaying Like bird in slender thread. ^29 Lips scarce the soul restraining To breathe it forth are due, And now is nought remaining But death and death's last strew. Woe for life's short abiding. Woe for sleep's final hour, That now is wholly hiding My little gentle flower ! ^30 It on its stem's upstaying, Swings blushing here and there, though with angels playing, As though no death there were.266 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. All Schönheit musz hier weichen, Spricht Greis und Kind zu dir.^31 In the Spiegel der Liebe (n. 11), the longest of all Spee's poems, he dwells upon the grief of Magdalene over the empty tomb. Amid a certain monotony of signs and tears, there is a finely individualised pathos in her cry that that 'better part' which her Master had promised should not be taken from her is now indeed lost. Very naïvely quaint and true is the small account she makes of the two angels:— Ach nit, nit euch, ihr Knaben, Ihr Jüngling, flügelreich, Ach euch will sie nit haben: Weicht ab von dannen gleich.^32 They almost annoy her, as possibly hiding what yet might be there. The self-forgetful audacity of love expressed in the 'Tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away,' is made the theme of powerful amplification; and the Wörtlein Maria, which tells all, is 'the little spark' of such a fire of joy that all expression fails. By far the most powerful of the Good Shepherd poems appears in the Tugendbuch (p. 121).^33 A shepherd boy will not return to his father's house without his sheep, lost in the wild night; his shepherd cry, "Schäflein, Schäflein, du liebstes Schäflein mein,' melts into the 'seven words' on the cross, which he ascends in order that he may be heard the further, and so draw the wanderer to himself. With this most characteristic poem we may compare, by way of contrast, n. 42, 'Ecce Homo,' in which the intensest feeling finds expression in Scriptural and dogmatic forms (v. 3):— Schau den Menschen, den die Liebe Viel zu stark am Herzen brann! Sie von Himmel ihn vertriebe, Nacket er zur Erde rann, Er zum Menschen unverdrossen Sprang von seinem gülden Saal; Ihn die Menschen gar verstoszen, Hassen, meiden überall.^34 ^31 All beauty here is vanquished, Quoth the old man and the child. ^32 Ah no, not you, ye pages, With youth and wings and all, Get out there from before me, I'll not have you at all. ^33 What does duty for it in the Trutznachtigall is altogether inferior. ^34 'See the Man' in whom love kindled In His heart so strong a flame, That, His heaven all forsaken, Naked unto earth He came; Into manhood undisdaining Sprang He from His golden state, And by man is still rejected, Still pursued with scorn and hate. 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 267 The most famous of all his poems is n. 21, a hymn to the Creator. Of the eighteen stanzas I give the third and the last as specimens:— In etlich tausend Jahren, Viel tausend Sternen klar, Kein Härlein sich verfahren, Gehn richtig immerdar. Wer deutet ihn die Straszen, Wer zeiget ihn die Weg, Dasz sie nit unterlassen, Zu finden ihre Steg? O Mensch, ermesz im Herzen dein Wie Wunder musz der Schöpfer sein! O Schönheit der Naturen, O Wunderlieblichkeit, O Zahl der Creaturen, Wie streckest dich so weit! Und wer dann wollt nit merken Des Schöpfers Herrlichkeit, Und ihn in seinen Werken Erspüren jeder Zeit? O Mensch, ermesz im Herzen dein Wie Wunder musz der Schöpfer sein!^35 One is reminded of Addison's famous lines:— Soon as the evening shades prevail, the moon takes up the wondrous tale; and Thackeray's commentary:— It seems to me those verses shine like stars. They shine out of a great deep calm. When he turns to Heaven a sabbath comes over that man's mind, and his face lights up with a joy of thanks and prayers. ^35 Through many thousand cycles, How many stars so bright Have not one hair's breadth wandered, Have gone for ever right! Who pointed out their courses, Who marked them out their way, Which never more may fail them, From which they never stray? Think, man, within this heart of thine, How must the great Creator shine. O comeliness of nature, O wondrous loveliness, O wide-spread world of creatures, In numbers numberless! Who then can fail to notice The Maker's master-hand, And trace Him in his working In sea and sky and land? Think, man, within this heart of thine, How must the great Creator shine.268 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. See especially v. 2: -- Des Tags bis auf den Abend Die Sonn gar freundlich lachts, Zu Nacht der Mond, Gott lobend, Führt auf die Sternen Wach. 36 When we compare, as Englishmen will be apt to do, Fr. Spee's poetical work with that of English devotional poets of the same date, of Crashaw and Hebert and the earlier Southwell, we are struck with the comparative absence of verbal conceits n the German poet. There are very few of those 'quaint enameled eyes' which form the beauty and the bane of so much contemporary English work. There is none of that tossing as it were of a thought from hand to hand in which Herbert so delights, and in which he is often so delightful. There is none of Southwell's sententious chewing the cud of a pleasant or a melancholy fancy. Spee's lyric movement is too direct and vehe- ment for any such recovery. He flings his flowers, as flowers are flung, in a procession, before the Blessed Sacrament, carelessly and without any tender unwillingness to let go. In the childlike direct vehemence of his devotional expression he resembles Crashaw far more than he does his fellow-Jesuit Southwell. But Crashaw is full of such conceits as I can recall but one of in Spee -- viz. where the latter asks St. Joseph to mix roses with the folder of the ox and the ass in order to sweeten the breath with which they warm their shivering Saviour. Passionate epigrammatic word-play suggestive of self-complacency in one's own ingenuity. He sang with his breast against a thorn, and yet, as Vilmar well remarks, there is something playful in the tone in which his love of external nature finds expression which recalls the ancient Minne- singers. It may be, as some critics have remarked, that Dawn and Night, with their white and rosy lights and brown shadows, have a rather too conventional apparatus of epithet. They are to him in some degree classical personages; but his birds, and flowers, and his 'little brooks that wrestle with the stones,' are always delicious realities. The rhythmical perfection of his verse is admitted by all his German critics to be unique, or all but unique, in his century; and English readers who recollect that German literature is considerably junior to their own can hardly fail to be astonished as Spee's very modern music. I have already referred to the third of Spee's works, the Goldnes Tugendbuch. It was first published at the same time as the Trutz- nachtigall, in 1649, fourteen years after the author's death; but in composition it must have somewhat preceded it, as it contains many [36 From morning until evening The friendly sun laughs bland; At night the moon, God praising. Leads up the starry hand.] 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 269 of the poems in an unmistakably earlier form interwoven in its prose. It is a collection of exercises, a good deal of it in the form of a dialogue between priest and penitent, on the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity, and is thus divided into three parts. The first contains exercises of faith on the Articles of the Creed, in which each Apostle appears chaunting his article from a golden throne, in spite of the clamours of a gainsaying crowd; on the narrative of Holy Writ; on the acts of the Martyrs; and on a variety of other motives tending to the strengthening of faith. In the second section, on Hope, all the difficulties and temptations against that virtue are discounted, and every motive for trust in God's mercy enforced by example and parable. In the third, Charity, are innumerable exercises of love, practice here rather predominating over exhortations, the latter having been mainly achieved in the preceding sections - i.a. we have various ways of hearing mass, and a practice for 'praying always.' The characteristic nature of the book is the marvellous energy with which it constrains every vocal prayer to minister to mental prayer of the highest and intensest order; a process in some sort of imaged by the kindling prose which culminates in poetry. Leibnitz, in a letter quoted by Fr. Diel (p. 89), expresses his boundless admiration for this work, although eh does not care for the verses: - 'I am fallen strangely in love with it for the beautiful deep thoughts it expresses so well, and which are calculated to touch the souls even of the bases and most world-engulphed.' If anyone shares M. Renan's ambition to the the author of a new prayer-book, not so much with a view to kits use by 'dainty fingers,' as for the comfort of weary hearts, he could hardly do better than put the Goldnes Tugendbuch under requisition. one passage I shall allow myself t quote; it is from the first chapted on the section on Hope. Those who recollect Fr. Spee's experience in the witch-prisions will at once understand the field in which its lessons were learned and applied: -- Qu. 1. - Tell me honestly and from the bottom of thy heart, my child; if thou hadst all thy sins which thou has committed from the childhood's days even unto this hour upon they conscience, and now presently before thou leavest this room must needs die and appear before the strict tribunal of god, and there receive the incontestable sentence under which thou must abide for all eternity, how would it be with thee for courage? Wouldst thou despair of God's mercy, or whither wouldst thou betake thee? Bethink thee awhile, and then answer me what thou wouldst do. Ans. - Oh no, I would not despair, I would still hope God would be merciful to me. I would hope that the dear Blood of Jesus Christ would not allow me to perish everlastingly. I would hope that if I cried right out of my deep misery to God, and right inwardly from the love of Gd, He would have compassion upon all my sins and would hearken unto me. Oh God! as much and a great deal more I hope from thy tender mercy, and this hope shall not be borne from my heart for ever. For I know Thee already much too well, O Jesus, Thou meekest of all, and I know that Thy love for Thy poor children is much too great. Thous hast let Thyself go in the way of expendi- 270 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. tura on our behalf too far, and now Thou canst not with all Thy Almightiness even once come to this, that Thou shouldst thrust out one single right penitent sinner from before the mercy-seat of Thine everlasting Goodness, and why then should I despair? Ah me! ah me! if all the sinners of the whole world did but know Thee aright, how it would grieve them that they had ever angered a Master so unspeakably gentle. Ah, my Jesus! Qu. 2.—But how would it be, my child, if thy whole life long thou hadst done no good thing, but on the other hand hadst upon thy conscience all the sins that had been committed from the beginning of the world by evil spirits and men, wouldst thou not then despair? Bethink thee and give me an answer. Ans.—I would not despair. Qu. 3.—But if being in such a state of sin thou of a sudden camest into an assured danger of death; for instance, if midmost a fierce sea thou wert suffering shipwreck, what thinkest thou, how wouldst thou abide it? Set it before thine eyes in a right lively manner, and tell me what thou thinkest. The ship is sinking, the storm hath the upper hand. There is no help for thee, there is no creature that can deliver thee, down thou must go. There is no priest far or near; the abyss awaits thee and Hell, and now, even now, thou art to be lost for all eternity: art thou not yet of a mind that thou wouldst despair? Ans.—No, no, I would not despair, I would from the bottom of my heart cry unto God. I would present before Him the precious Blood of Jesus Christ, I would wholly hope and trust that He would nevertheless help me, and would in a moment have compassion upon my miserable sins, if only I would love Him above all things. He could not refuse to pardon me again. He would give way in my regard to His unspeakable tender mercy, and in such a hope I would fearlessly let myself slip into that sea, as though I were sinking into His arms. For He is every- where, and nowhere can one escape Him (Ps. cxxxviii.); and where He is, there is His tender mercy, and this too is infinitely great! Ah, my God! Qu. 4.-Thou hast answered right well, and done true honour to the Most High Majesty of God in that thou hast attained to so noble a conception of His goodness. Now, then, I must know something further. In case the Lord God because of thy sins should afflict thee with a loathsome disease, even as He did the godless Antiochus, as we read in Holy Writ (2 Maccab. 9), and no one should be able to abide thee on account of the frightful stench and infection; if oven thy friends and relations had thrust thee forth from the house, and thou must needs lie without, to die like a beast, deprived of all human comfort and assistance; and even when thou didst have a priest sent for, he should flee away from thee, crying out that thou wert already lost, that God had already cast thee away, and thou, must be damned for ever: oh say what wouldst thou then do—wouldst thou not at length despair? Ans.—Yet would I not despair, O Thou my God! Qu. 5.—But when now further thy strength altogether fails thee, thine eyes are darkened, thy hearing gone, thy tongue paralysed, thy breath choked, and now, even now, thou must die; and thereupon a vast number of evil spirits gather round thee, shrieking out in monstrous fashion that thou must come forth and be delivered over to them for all eternity, wouldst thou not then despair? Ans.—I would certainly even then not despair: God could in a moment still deliver me. Qu. 6.—If, when in these straits, thou shouldst cry to all the blessed in heaven, and if they should all answer thee with one voice, that they could not help thee, that it was too late, and that God had already cast thee off for ever, wouldst thou not then despair? Ans.—No, I would not yet despair, O God, O God! Qu. 7.—But if the Mother of God herself should give thee a like answer, would not then all thy courage fail? Ans.—No, not at all; so long as I had breath I would evermore hope. 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 271 Qu. 8.—But if Christ appeared to thee, and declared that his precious Blood would no more avail for thee with His Heavenly Father, and thou must therefore be damned, wouldst thou have any power then of hoping? Ans.—As long as I lived I would hope, for so long I should always be able to reconcile myself with God (Job xxxi.) His fatherly and motherly heart is so endlessly tender that it would, as it were, break and fly asunder whenever a sinner with a really true and pure contrition and sorrow should come in contact with it; wherefore I would never give myself up for lost: I would hope, yea, I would hope. Qu. 9. —But how! would you not believe Christ? Could He by any possibility tell you a lie? You must now infallibly despair. Ans.—No, no, of a surety no. So long as I should have breath I would not despair of His mercy. For even if God Himself should say that He would damn me, that I should never be admitted to pardon, that would all be on the understanding that as long as I lived I did not convert myself to Him (Job xxxi.) Therefore I will never give myself up for lost, but bewail my sins and creep back with the Prodigal Son (Luke xv.) Out of the abyss of His mercy would He then receive me back as He did the Ninevites and others upon whom He had already spoken the sentence of death, and yet admitted them again to pardon. O God, my God! O God, kinder than all others, Thou art a God so full of compassion that even when Thou settest thyself against me, and wouldst pour out all thy Almightiness with infinite wrath upon me, I would never despair of Thy mercy. I know Thee much too well, for all Thy ways are Truth and Mercy. Thy Father's heart is much too soft; Thy compassion is far too great; Thou canst not contradict Thyself: Thou hast long ago declared that Thou wouldst show mercy to all who should be converted to Thee. Now it is impossible that Thou shouldst gainsay Thyself, and so I cannot despair. Accursed be the man who hopeth not in Thee. In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped, let me not be confounded for ever (Ps. xxiv.) Was ever more generous wine poured from the flask of the Good Samaritan? All through the book one feels that the writer is staunching wounds, not merely meditating, exhorting, or poetizing. I can recall, besides the book of Job, but two works which produce this same effect of tender realism: Savonarola's Commentary on the Miserere Psalm, composed for his own comfort during the last days of his imprisonment, and The Sufferings of Christ, by Fr. Thomas, the Augustinian, a collection of Meditations on the Passion wherewith he kept alive the faith and hope of his fellow-captives in a Moslem prison. In 1631 the troops of Gustavus Adolphus overran a great portion of the Rhineland, and Fr. Spee had to leave his pleasant retreat at Falkenhagen for Cologne, where we find him professing moral theology in the year 1631 and 1632. During that time he had as his pupil the famous Busembaum (reputed the fountain-head of modern Probabilism), who always spoke of his master with enthusiastic admiration, and regretted exceedingly that nothing of his moral theology course had been published. During his brief residence in Cologne, in addition to his professional duties, Fr. Spee worked very hard in the confessional, having a great number of penitents; and many conversions both from heresy and ill life were due to his efforts. Amongst the latter we are told of a certain grand lady who was wholly given up to gaieties of a very 272 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. questionable sort, and exercised a very bad influence in the neighbourhood. She was very beautiful, and it was the fashion amongst the young men of the place to entertain her with nightly serenades beneath her window. Now Fr. Spee was a skilful musician and choirmaster, as well as a poet, and had set many of his verses to music. So one night he sent his choir to the lady's window, and there they made such excellent music concerning the love belonging to heavenly things, and Fr. Spee's spirit in words and melody so wrought with her that, altogether forsaking her former life, she thenceforward gave great edification to the whole town. We hardly know the occasion of Spee's next and last removal, but in 1633 he left Cologne for the Jesuit house as Treves, where he had made his novitiate, and where his brief but ardent course was to terminate. His health had been very delicate ever since the attempt upon his life which had so nearly proved successful, but nothing could moderate his zeal for work. He went on for the next two years doing parochial work, and revising his Trutznachtigall; and it looked as if this heroic life would end in a quiet prosaic wearing out: but this was not to be. In August of the year 1633 Treves had been delivered over by its governor to the French, and the Jesuits, who were strong Imperialists, had had their schools closed. They were still holding on in a small way as parish priests in their Church of St. Simeon at the Porta Nigra, when, in the beginning of 1635, the Government issued a decree for their expulsion, which was to be carried into effect on the 27th of the ensuing March. It was the night between the 25th and the 26th of March when the Imperialist Graf Von Rettberg, at the head of 1,200 men, managed to effect an entrance, and, after some eight hours of desperate street fighting, found himself master of the town. During all this time Fr. Spee was busy among the combatants, doing important service to friend and foe, carrying the wounded on his shoulders into safe corners where he slaked their thirst, dressed their wounds, and, where it was needed, gave them the last sacraments. Five hundred Frenchmen were slain, and as many more, with their leader, were taken prisoners. As soon as the battle was over, Fr. Spee hastened to Von Rettenberg and prevailed upon him - Heaven knows how, except that Spee was not an easy man to refuse - to grant all the prisoners their liberty. Within a month of the capture of Treves Fr. Spee had the consolation of seeing all the prisoners who were fit to travel well supplied with clothes and money by his charity, and en route for their homes. Many, however, of the wounded of both sides still lay in hospital, where a pestilence soon added to the difficulty of the situation. There it was that Fr. Spee at once established himself as confessor, nurse, physician, and general servant, and there he met with his reward; they brought him home to die. He died surrounded by his brethren on the 7th of August, 1635, with no last words that 1885 A JESUIT REFORMER AND POET. 273 have come down to us, but 'full of hope and happy.' He lies in the crypt of St. Simeon's Church at Treves, and his epitaph says as much and no more: 'Hier liegt Friederich Spee.' If my readers in any degree share my feeling for this man of love and song and suffering, they will not fail to rejoice that this last phase of his life - a public life of something less than ten years - ends with so true a cadence. Requiem pro anima tali non cantamus, Immo est introitus missae 'Gaudeamus,' Quia si pro martyre Deum exoramus, Ut Decretum loquitur, Sancto derogamus.' H. I. D. RYDER. VOL. XVIII. - NO. 102. T274 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. DEDICATED from immemorial antiquity to be the southern abuttal of the metropolis, and gradually becoming linked with it across the dividing river by a score of bridges, roads, and railways, Surrey has been fated to surrender a strip of its rural area, which year by year grows broader, to the ever-encroaching tide of urban development. For many a mile beside the river, wherever the traveller turns, he can discern only the unsightly forms and unsavoury odours which characterise A suburb reeking of the city's breath. For two or three leagues further southward stretches the region of Villadom, sectioned off into endless roads, streets, rows, crescents, squares, groves, and terraces - a very network of bricks and mortar. It is interspaced, indeed, with frequent oases of garden-ground, treeful and flowerful, and, at rarer intervals, a few green acres of open common, but all given over to gas-lamps, railway stations, omnibuses and cab-stands, and prostrate under the tyrannous yoke of 'local boards.' A region not without substantial advantages to those who must live near London yet pine for fresh air, and lovely by comparison with the ugliness which lies behind it, but a sorry makeshift for the virginal beauties of the country to those who really prize them. Once well beyond this region, however, the traveller will find himself surrounded by these beauties at their best, in a rural district as rich in natural grace and unspoilt wildness as any now left in England. He will find, too, what it is not less surprising than refreshing to meet with in the most metropolitan of the home counties, much of the old-fashioned simplicity of village life which we usually associate with 'a hundred miles from town.' Londoners, who are most apt to forget the truth of which a Liberal politician wisely reminded the House of Commons the other day. that 'we are what we are by what we are,' can hardly fail to recognise this if they use their eyes in Surrey. Ample traces of every great historic phase through which the nation has passed, though some are slowly yielding to the touch of time, are still abundant. Entrenchments of British origin and Roman adoption crown several heights of the 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. 275 chalk and sandhill ranges; Hanstie bury, near Dorking, 'The Cardinal's Cap,' near Bletchingley, and two 'Caesar's Camps,' one near Weybridge and the other at Aldershot, being the best preserved of them. On the same hill-tops and on many of the high open commons are remains of barrows which may be of even older date. These vestiges belong to a period so indefinite that it might almost be called prehistoric, but may not be much earlier than an event first recorded in our annals, which is associated by a well-attested tradition with a spot in the parish of Walton-on-Thames known as Cowey Stakes. Here, where alone the river could be forded on foot, Caesar is believed to have crossed it when in pursuit of Cassivelaunus, who withstood his second invasion of Britain. The Britons defended the ford by means of stakes with which they spiked the banks and river-bed, but Caesar's cavalry having forced a passage through and over the rude palisade, were followed by the foot soldiers, who waded up to their necks in water, and put the enemy to flight. Stakes as thick as a human thigh and cased with lead were visible here in the days of Bede, and several answering to the same description have been found hereabouts down to a comparatively recent period. Little is recorded of the Romans' rule, but at Kingston, Chessington, Ashstead, Woodcote, Albury, Shackleford, Bletchingley, and in other parts of the count, remains of their buildings and signs of occupation have been found. The Stone Street, which ran from Regnum (Chichester) to London, traversed a considerable section of Surrey, and may still be traced beyond Dorking. The name which the county bears (Suth-rige, or Southern Kingdom) seems to imply that it was colonised by the South-Saxon invaders, but no traditions respecting the mode of their settlement have been handed down to us. Of the 'battles of the kites and crows' which preceded the establishment of England as a single kingdom, one is connected by a doubtful record with Surrey. A large circular entrenchment on Wimbledon Common has been supposed by Camden and other writers to be the scene of an engagement which (according to the Saxon Chronicle) was fought in the year 568 at Wibandune between King Ceaulin of Wessex and King Ethelbert of Kent, when the latter was slain. The identification, however, of Wibandune with Wimbledon may be open to question. Under the early English kings historical interest centred at Kingston- on-Thames, which owes that name to its having been one of their demesne possessions. Between the years 900 and 978, the successive members of the dynasty beginning with Edward the Elder and ending with Ethelred II. were there crowned. The chapel in which the ceremony was performed, or so much as was left of it, was pulled down in 1731, but a great stone on which the kings are said to have been enthroned was carefully preserved, and now stands, enclosed with an iron railing, at the end of the borough market- T2 276 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. place. Another royal residence of this period was at West Sheen, but the tradition of it is all that remains. Legends are extant of battles with the Danes in different parts of the county, notable one at Ockley, identified with Aclea, where the Saxon Chronicle records that they were defeated by Ethelwulf in 851. There is another tradition at Kingston, that the leader of a Danish band was vanquised and killed there, his head being kicked about the town by the conquerors. A game of football played there every Shrove Tuesday is popularly cherished as a memorial of this victory. Clapham is the legendary scene of a third Danish tragedy. At the wedding feast of Fytha, daughter of Osgod Clapa, the lord of that place, King Hardiknut fell down in a drunken fit, from the effects of which he soon afterwards died. This event was followed by an act of treachery which occurred at Guildford, where young Alfred the Atheling, whom Earl Godwin recalled from Normandy, under pretence of securing his succession to the throne, was attacked and made prisoner, and the Norman attendants who defended him were put to death. The Norman period has left a solitary relic of its secular architecture in the keep of Guildford Castle. Of the older castle of Reigate, the fortress of the Earls Warrenne, the great feudal and titular lords of the county, only the mound of the keep remains. The churches are numerous: Puttenham and Compton (the greater part), the naves of Mickleham and Walton, the chancel-arches of Stoke Dabernon and Peperharrow, the doors of Chipstead and Shere, and the towers of Albury and Cobham being the most noteworthy examples. The bridge over the Mole at the foot of Painshill in Cobha, presevers the memory of 'good Queen Maud,' the wife of Henry the First, who first built one there as an oblation for the soul of a maiden of hers who, in crossing the ford, was carried away by the stream. The last and worst of the Norman kings has linked his name with the meadow of Runnimede, on the banks of the Thames near Egham, which witnessed the greatest event in our constitutional history, and a' fortiori, in the annals of Surrey. Though the meadow is plainly indicated by contemporary chroniclers as the scene of the interview between John and his barons, at which Magna Charta was signed, tradition has chosen to discard it in favour of the adjoining island, known as Charter Island. This name, however, was probably acquired two years later, when the young King Henry the Third, in company with his chief adherents and the papal legate, signed a treaty of peace there with Price Louis of France, whereby the latter renounced the throne and restored to their allegiance the insurgent forces who had joined his standard. During the war which was thus terminated, the three chief fortresses of the county, the castles of Reigate, Guilford, and Farnham, which had been held for the king, 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. 277 were besieged by and submitted to Louis. Farnham Castle was afterwards destroyed by Henry the Third as having harboured rebels, but was speedily rebuilt by its lords, the Bishops of Winchester. To the thirteenth century belong the ruins of Waverley Abbey and Newark Priory, the only monastic buildings in Surrey of which any considerable traces remain. Of Chersey and Merton, which far transcended them in size and importance, all but a few fragments have long since perished. Several churches, especially St. Mary's, Guildford, and Merton, parts of Abinger, Ockham, Carshalton, West Horsely, and Woking, together with the keep of Farnham Castle, are of the same date. Of the succeeding periods of church architecture Decorated Gothic is best represented in parts of Nutfield, Shere, and Reigate; Perpendicular in Lingfield, Croydon, Leigh, Beddington, Thames Ditton, and All Saints', Kingston. Of works in secular architecture a refernce must suffice to the hall which is the sole relic of Croydon Palace, built in the reign of Henry the Sixth (now converted into a laundry 1); the picturesque water-gate of a palace built on the banks of the Mole at Esher, during the same reign, by Wayneflete, Bishop of Winchester; and the gateway of Lambeth Palace, the oldest portion of it above ground, which was the work of Cardinal Archbishop Morton, in the reign of Henry the Seventh.278 NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. in which he himself jousted. Traditions in connection with this king are current in various parts of the country. At Ankerwyke, near Egham, a great yew tree is shown under which he is said to have held secret trysts with Anne Boleyn; and in the grounds of Pembroke Lodge, Richmond Park, stands a mound upon which he is said to have watched for the rising of a rocket that announced her execution on Tower Hill. Henry's fancy was scarcely less capricious in regard to his houses than his wives. When sated with Richmond and Hampton Court, he recurred to the neighborhood of Byfleet, where he had passed some part of his childhood. In 1538 he acquired by purchase or exchange several estates in this and the adjoining parishes of Walton and Weybridge, and upon one of them erected the stately palace of Oatlands. The building accounts which are extant show that is was designed in anticipation of his marriage with Anne of Cleves. Mislead by the report of her beauty, he looked forward to that event with an eagerness which his speedy disillusionment converted into bitter chagrin, and he seems to have seldom if ever resided in his new palace. He did not, however, abandon Surrey, but in the following year transferred his affections to Cuddington, near Cheam, where he bought a large estate and commenced another palace, which, though unfinished at his death in 1547, acquired from its potential splendour the name of Nonsuch. Three prominent figures of Henry the Eighth's reign are associated more or less intimately with Surrey localities. Wolsey, on becoming Bishop of Winchester, partially rebuilt the palace referred to as set up by his predecessor Waynflete upon the banks of the Mole at Esher. After his fall in 1529 he was commanded to retire there, and his faithful servant Cavendish has left a graphic narrative of the mortifications which he underwent during his stay. Thomas Cromwell, who rose into power upon his patron's collapse, was the son of a blacksmith, or armourer, at Putney, the traditional site of whose forge is still shown. The third and noblest figure is that of Sir Thomas More. Whether or not the Mores of Losely, near Guildford, now represented by the More-Molyneux family, were a branch of the same stock as his own, his wife is said to have been a daughter of the then head of the house, Sir Christopher More. After the Chancellor's execution his daughter Margret Roper is alleged to have conveyed his head to Baynards, near Cranley, the house of her daughter, Lady Bray, where it was long preserved. An Elizabethan mansion which was built upon the site of this house in 1577 has vicariously acquired from that circumstance the reputation of being haunted. The oldest private mansions in Surrey date from the Tudor period. Crowhurst Place, near Lingfield, is perhaps the earliest, being ascribed to the reign of Henry the Seventh, when it was the seat of the Gaynesfords. It is partly of brick and partly timbered. The decoration 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY: 279 decoration of the cornice and ceiling of the great hall retains its old colouring. Wickham Court, near Addington, is of about the same period, built of brick dressed with stone, which a thick covering of ivy now conceals. Sutton Place, near Guildford, was built soon after 1529 by Sir Richard Weston, brewer to Henry the Eighth, and when perfect formed a quadrangle of which one side has been demolished. The building is of re brick with terra-cotta mouldings remarkable for their fine proportions and richness of ornament. Losely, the above-mentioned seat of the More-Molyneux family, was built in 1562. Its oriel-windowed front of grey stone, rising above a moat and a large garden-wall with circular turrets at each angle, is flanked by stately avenues of trees and ample sweeps of lawn, beyond which stretches a park landscape of wide extent and luxuriant verdure. Ashley Park, Walton, is another Elizabethan house of considerable size and dignity, its gabled front of dark-red brick being harmoniously framed by the sombre pines and lofty beeches that surround it. The last of these examples that may be noticed is the hall of Beddington House, the sole relic of the Elizabethan mansion of the Carews, in which Sir Frances, who then represented them, entertained the Queen for three days in 1599. Its open roof and carved trophy of arms are curiously elaborate. In one or other of her Surrey palaces Elizabeth was a frequent resident. Richmond was one of the many prison-houses to which while princess she had been confined by her sister Mary. Notwithstanding the disagreeable impression of it thus created, it continued until the last one of her favourite resorts. It was here that in her old age she took umbrage at the plain speaking of the Bishop of St. David's, who chose the infirmities incident to that period of life as the theme of a sermon; and here, seven years later, she died. The estate of Nonsuch having been granted by Mary to the Earl of Arundel, he completed the unfinished palace of Henry the Eighth, and Elizabeth repurchased it from his representatives. A memorable incident of her residence there was the reception of Essex, who, unexpectedly returning from Ireland in September 1600 to plead for his restoration to favour, rushed all travel-stained as he was into her bed-chamber, where he found her with dishevelled hair. Taken by surprise, she let him kiss her hand, but on reflection, committed him to the Lord Keeper's custody, whence he only emerged to plunge headlong into treason and die upon the scaffold. At Oatlands, during one of her visits, a notable hunting exploit was achieved by Selwyn, the keeper of the park, which is recorded on his tomb in Walton Church. Leaping from horseback upon the back of the stage when at full speed, he guided its course, and, drawing his knife, laid it dead at the Queen's feet. A few worthies of the Elizabethan age may be remembered in connection with their residences in Surrey. Sir Francis Walsingham,280 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. one of the most single-minded of the Queens' counsellors, lived at Barn Elms, a house upon the banks of the Thames at Barnes, the site of which retains the name. Lord Charles Howard, the admiral who defeated the Armada, took the title by which he is generally known from his estate in the village of Effingham, and is buried in Reigate Church. Ben Jonson, according to tradition, used to seek change of air and quiet in a farmhouse called Swains, at Leigh, near Reigate, where a panelled room is shown as his 'study,' and an oaken table and a pair of iron fire-dogs are said to have belonged to him. Archbishops Parker, Grindal, and Whitgift are associated with Croydon. The first named, after hospitably entertaining Elizabeth at his palace for a week, obtained the acknowledgement of a gratuitously rude speech addressed to his wife. Grindal and Whitgift are buried in the church, the latter under an elaborate monument. He was a great benefactor to the town, which his hospital for aged brethren and sisters still adorns. Archbishop Abbot (whose episcopate belongs to the reign of James the First) was born at Guildford, and, following Whitgift's example, enriched the town in 1619 with a hospital devoted to the same object. Still more famous is the College of God's Gift at Dulwich, founded and richly endowed by Edward Alleyne, the actor, on his retirement from the stage to this quiet village in 1612. The educational institution which has branched out from this root, and perhaps the least worthy of the Surrey celebrities of this period, was Dr. John Dee, the reputed wizard and alchemist, who had a house at Mortlake. He was much in favour with Elizabeth, but so obnoxious to his neighbours that they took advantage of his absence in Germany to break into and rifle his house. His laboratory, during the next reign, became the site of a tapestry manufactory founded by Sir Francis Crane, where designs by Rubens and Vandyck were executed, and to which Charles the First sent some of Raffaelee's cartoons to be copied. Oatlands Palace was assigned in jointure to the Queens of James the First and Charles the First, and Anne made it her favourite abode, commissioning Inigo Jones to build some additional rooms, one of which was devoted to the special culture of silkworms. Henrietta Maria also lived much at this palace, and the King's artistic taste adorned it with many masterpieces which eventually came to the hammer. Here the Queen gave birth to her youngest son, the Duke of Gloucester (hence called Henry of Oatlands), and on her flight to France chose it as the refuge of her infant daughter, Henrietta (afterwards Duchess of Orleans), whom she was left in charge of Lady Morton. Another jointure house of this Queen was Wimbledon Park, formerly the seat of Sir Thomas Cecil, eldest son of Lord Burghley, by whom it was built in 1588, and whose son was created Viscount Wimbledon. Here was a famous melon garden in which, 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. 281 only a few days before his trial, Charles the First ordered some seed of a Spanish variety of the fruit to be sown. The Duke of Somerset's house stands on the site of the original mansion. During the Civil War Kingston was twice the scene of conflict. The first time was in January 1642, when certain Royalists under Colonel Lunsford and Lord Digby collected a body of troops with the apparent design of securing the arms and ammunition stored in the town and then marching to Portsmouth; but information of their plans having reached the Parliament, the train-bands were called out, Colonel Lunsford was arrested, and Lord Digby took to flight. The second occasion was in July 1648, when a force of about 600 men was mustered here by Lord Holland, the Duke of Buckingham, and his brother, Lord Francis Villiers, with the intention of proceeding to the Isle of Wight and releasing the King from his imprisonment at Carlsbrooke. Encountering the Parliamentary troops in a lane on the outskirts of the town near Surbiton Common, a skirmish ensued in which the Royalists were worsted. Young Villiers, a youth of great beauty and promise, was slain after an heroic combat in which, with his back set against an elm, he fought with six antagonists at once. Several of the Parliamentary leaders were residents in Surrey. The house in which President Bradshaw lived at Walton-on-Thames is still standing, but converted to meaner uses. General Lambert and Colonel Pride became the joint purchasers of Nonsuch, and there the latter died. Lambert, after his quarrel with Cromwell, retired to tulips and gillyflowers. The eccentric John Lilburne had some settlement near Walton, and distinguished himself by leading a band of 'Levellers' to dig up the waste of St. George's Hill; a proceeding which was summarily stopped by the authorities. The palaces of Richmond, Oatlands, and Nonsuch, having been confiscated on the deposition of Charles the First, were sold for the benefit of the State. Richmond was partially dismantled, and, though resumed by the Queen Dowager at the Restoration, never revived its ancient dignity. It was gradually demolished, with the exception of one gateway (over which the arms of Henry the Seventh are visible), leading into a court which retains the name of Old Palace Yard. Oatlands was almost wholly pulled down before the Restoration, and nothing is now left of it but the arched gateway of a wall and some vaulted substructions. The gardens are now cultivated by a florist. The name of 'the fish meadow' borne by an adjoining field, indicates the position of the stew-ponds. Nonsuch, owing to its purchase by General Lambert and Colonel Pride, as above- mentioned, escaped destruction for a few years longer; but Charles the Second having granted it to his mistress the Duchess of Cleveland, she had it pulled down and sold the site. Only a part of the 282 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY Aug. foundations can now be traces. Subsequent to this period, such lustre as the country obtained from the royal preference underwent eclipse until the reign of George the Second, when Queen Caroline and her son Frederic, Prince of Wales, took up their several abodes at Kew. The existing palace ( the nucleus of which was a house that had belonged to a merchant named Portman, in the reign of Charles the First) became after Queen Caroline's death a favourite residence of Queen Charlotte, and here she died. The Botanic Gardens, upon which the nation may justly pride itself as among the finest in the world, have been developed from an 'Exotic Garden,' originated by the Princess Dowager of Wales (the mother of George the Third), whose memory, not otherwise held in much respect, this institution should serve to redeem. In the reign of Charles the Second, the little town of Epsom achieved sudden reputation as a fashionable watering place, in virtue of its chalybeate springs charged with sulphate of magnesia, which had effected some notable cures. Form a time the alluring combination of town and country life, natural simplicity and artificial gaiety, which it offered to jaded and unhealthy pleasure-seekers, made it a formidable rival to Tunbridge Wells, but its popularity declined after the reign of Anne, and the 'Wells" now only survive in the 'Epsom Salts' of commerce, which are no longer manufactured there. The Downs, on which a race-course had been set up at an earlier date, formed on of the great attractions of the watering place, but the races did not acquire their distinction as a national sport until the latter part of the last century. During the Caroline period Surrey was singularly rich in distinguished residents. Sir John Denham, who lived at Egham Place, sung the beauties of Cooper's Hill in a poem of which two lines at least have won their way into the list of stock quotations. A brother poet, better remembered if not more often read, Abraham Cowley, after relinquishing the diplomatic service, retired to Chertsey in 1665, where he died about two years later. His house, a quaint timbered structure, is still standing, and the room is shown which he used as a study. Hobbes, the metaphysician, was long domiciled at Roehampton, in the house of the Countess of Devonshire, to whose son he was tutor. John Evelyn has left substantial vestiges of his presence at Wotton, his domain near Dorking, where many of the pine-woods are believed to be of his planting. The noble and lofty beeches which surround the house, though probably of a later date, are worthy of the author of Sylva. The grounds contain other relics of his taste for landscape-gardening in the shape of waterworks and an artificial mound laid out in terraces. The house, built of dark-red brick, has received additions since his day. A contemporary of radically different type, the Duke of Lauderdale, is remembered in connection with another old Surrey mansion, Ham House, Petersham, which was built by Sir 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. 283 Thomas Vavasor in the reign of James the First, but purchased a few years afterwards by the Earl of Dysart, whose daughter and heiress married the Duke for her second husband. One of the rooms is known as the 'Cabal Chamber,' from a tradition that the Ministry so designated used to meet there. The priceless collection of historical portraits, tapestries,furniture, and curiosities of every description, which this house contains, besides its library, which abounds in Caxtons, De Wordes, and similar treasures, have given it a European reputation. Another public man, of far higher character, Sir William Temple, withdrew towards the close of the seventeenth century to Moor Park, near Farnham, where he elaborately laid out a garden in the Dutch fashion which he had learned to admire when ambassador at the Hague. In his will he directed that his heart should be buried under a sun-dial which he fixed in this favourite spot. Jonathan Swift was domiciled as his secretary for some years, and made love to Stella, who was the attendant of Sir William's sister, Lady Giffard. 'The Battle of the Books,' and perhaps 'The Tale of a Tub,' were written at Moor Park. The fashion of landscape-gardening, which reached its zenith during the last century, found the most favourable scope for indulgence in the undulating and richly wooded scenery of Surrey, and Kent. 'Capability Brown,' and other masters of the art, achieved their highest successes there. One of these triumphs was at Oatlands, where the Earl of Lincoln erected a mansion upon a ridge overlooking the site of the old palace, replanted the park, and laid out the grounds with shrubberies, walks, and a large lake. A grotto set up there by one of his descendants, the Duke of Newcastle, is said to have occupied several years in construction, at a cost of 40,000l. Scarcely less famous were the 'ferme ornée' of Mr. Southcotes, at Woburn, near Addlestone; Painshill, near Cobbam, a slope of great natural beauty, which Mr. Hamilton covered with towers, Roman altars, and sepulchral monuments, interspersed with sham ruins; and Esher Place, then belonging to the Hon. Henry Pelham, the grounds of which Horace Walpole pronounced to be Kent's chef d'œuvre. The wild heaths and lonely roads of the country were turned to account after a different fashion by the 'gentlemen of the road,' thanks to whose industry travelling continued a costly and dangerous adventure down to the end of the last century, if not later. One of the boldest highwaymen, Jerry Abershaw, is still remembered in connection with his favourite hostel, the Baldfaced Stag, which stands on the road between Wandsworth and Kingston. Both the last and the present century have sustained the reputation of Surrey for distinguished residents. Lord Somers, the wise and honourable Chancellor of William III., having obtained a grant of the site of Reigate Priory, built a mansion there which has descended to his family. A statesman of another stamp, the brilliant284 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. and unscrupulous Lord Bolingbroke, lived at Battersea, in the family mansion of the St. Johns, which stood near the church. In a 'cedar parlour' there Pope is reported to have written his 'Epistle' to its owner. The house has wholly disappeared, but the name survives in a 'gardens,' and a 'terrace.' At Barnes, Henry Fielding had a house, and there too resided the famous bookseller Jacob Tonson, in whose rooms the Kit-cat Club often met. James Thomson, the poet, lived for many years, and in 1748 died, at Richmond, the beauties of whose landscape he has elaborately described in a well-known passage of The Seasons (Summer). His house in Kew foot-lane has since his time been enlarged, but retains some relics of him. Collins also lived for a while at Richmond, and there wrote his memorial lines on Thomson which are inscribed on the terrace under the hill. On the top of the hill, in a house overlooking its lovely prospect, Sir Joshua Reynolds usually spent the summer months. In 1769 the great but unhappy soldier of genius, to whom we owe our Indian Empire, purchased the Claremont estate at Esher, and at enormous cost erected the present mansion. Clive was then at the climax at his unpopularity, and the thickness of the walls gave rise to a legend among the peasantry that he intended them as a protection against the devil, 'who would one day carry him away bodily.' His tenancy was brief, as he died by his own hand in 1774. The two rival statesmen, whose lives epitomise the political history of England during the last quarter of the eighteenth century, were long resident in Surrey. The favourite retreat of Fox was a house on the slope of St. Anne's Hill, near Chertsey, in which his family representatives, to whom it still belongs, preserve various tokens of his occupancy. Pitt lived for several years at Bowling-green House, on Putney Heath, and died there in 1806. It was on the same heath that he fought a duel with Tierney in 1798. Putney is also memorable as the birthplace of Gibbon, much of whose early life was spent there. Dr. Johnson has conferred immortality upon the house of the Thrales at Streatham, in which some of his happiest days were passed. A yet greater philologist, Horne Tooke, wrote his famous Diversions of Purley at a house so named near Croydon. He subsequently lived at Wimbledon, where he died in 1812. In the adjoining village of Merton, Lord Nelson purchased a house, in which he lived for about a year and a half. It came to Lady Hamilton after his death, but the site is now occupied by smaller houses. The eccentric social reformer and popular author of Sandford and Merton, Thomas Day, lived at Anningsley, near Chobham, and in 1789 there fell a victim to his theory of training vicious horses. A saner reformer, and one of the raciest of English writers, William Cobbett, was a native of Farnham, the attractions of whose neighbourhood he has fondly described, and where he died in 1835. The once admired novelist, and not yet forgotten diarist of the Court of George the Third, Fanny Burley, settled, after her 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY 285 marriage with General D'Arblay, at West Humble, near Dorking. Her husband was one of several French refugees who were hospitably sheltered at Juniper Hall, in the neighbouring village of Mickleham. The picturesque slopes and valleys of Deepdene, a little nearer Dorking, were laid out in the taste of the seventeenth century by Charles Howard, an ancestor of the Duke of Norfolk. The grounds were subsequently converted into a park of exquisite beauty, and an Italian villa erected in their midst by Thomas Hope, the author of Anastatius, and the munificent patrol of Thorwaldsen, some of whose finest works are there collected. In the inn at Burford Bridge, which crosses the Mole at the foot of Boxhill, Keats wrote a considerable part of his Endymion. Alastor, one of the most characteristic works of his spiritual brother, Shelley, was written at the hamlet of Bishopsgate, near Egham, on the borders of Windsor Forest, where the poet spent the summer of 1815. This roll of illustrious names might readily be extended to our own day and crowned with that of the greatest of living poets. Of the famous men and women who have died rather than lived within the country, or made choice of its soil as their last resting- place, it might suffice to name the painter Gainsborough, who is buried at Kew; the tragedians, Edmund Kean and Mrs. Yates, who lie in Richmond churchyar; that gracious daughter of a graceless sire, the Princess Charlotte, who died in her first confinement at Claremont; the beautiful sisters Kate and Mary Horneck, Goldsmith's 'Little Comedy,' and 'Jessamy Bride,' who both sleep in Weybridge churchyard; and Louis Philippe, ex-King of the French, who two years after his flight to this country in 1848 died at Claremont, and was buried at a private Catholic chapel on Weybridge Heath. The convenient and accessible distance of this little county from London doubtless determined the gravitation to it during so long a period of so much of the intellectual, aristocratic, and wealthy society of the kingdom; and the attraction once set up has been maintained by its diversity of natural beauty and the 'clear air and clean wayes' to which Fuller attributes its abundance of 'gentile habitations.' Like its neighbours, Kent and Sussex, Surrey exhibits several varieties of soil and scenery. On the south-east it is traversed by the chalk- range of the North Downs, which thence runs into Kent. The same formation prolonged in a south-westerly direction between Guildford and Farnham rises into the ridge of the Hog's Back. South of the chalk, the district which borders on Sussex belongs in part to the Wealdan clay. The northern border of the county dips into the London clay basin, to which several scattered deposits in the interior also belong. The remaining and largest portion, lying to the west and south-west, pertains either to the Shanklin greensand or to the tertiary formation of Bagshot sand. The former rises into an irregular range, of which one horn runs south-east, parallel to the North Downs, and another projects southward into Sussex. The latter 286 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. forms a lower range, running in a north-westerly direction towards the point whence it derives its name. Both these formations, taken together, underlie those barren heaths which every artist seizes on, and every traveller recalls, as the salient feature of Surrey landscape. The chalk district, though exhibiting the same leading characteristics as that of Surrey and Kent, imprints itself on the memory by some peculiar landmarks. The low narrow ridge of the Hog's Back, scarcely half a mile across, arrests and detains the gaze by its singular contour and smooth green surface. Along the top runs a road which is thought to have been an ancient British track. The name of the ridge has been derived from the Saxon hoga, a hill, but the animal resemblance which its form suggests supplies an easier, if a more prosaic, etymology. Near Guildford a river channel, now represented by the slender stream of the Way, has broken through the chalk and carved for itself a broad valley. From one of the protruding edges of the fracture, richly clothed with yews and thorns, known as Newland's Corner, a noble vista opens out far away to the south over the sandstone hills towards Sussex, and to the north-west over the commons, fields, and woods that stretch to the borders of Berks. After this break the North Downs proper begin their course, gradually uplifting their heads and broadening their shoulders until, near Dorking, they reach almost their highest and most picturesque point. The sweeping curves of Denbies, Norbury, Boxhill, and other eminences, the bare slope of one contrasting with the wooded summit of another; the windings of the river Mole, which threads its way through the valley, and the rich green of the level meadows on either side of it, combine to form as fair a landscape as England can furnish. Certain of its details, moreover, are unique. About 230 acres of Boxhill are profusely covered with bushes of the evergreen shrub which has given it a name, and nowhere else grows in such luxuriance. The wooded banks at the foot of another height are thickly fringed with the greater St. John's wort, which thrives best under shade. The grounds of Norbury (an ancient estate surrounding a modern house which occupies a singularly striking position between two prominences) are famous for a grove of yews of immemorial age and vast girth. Some of the beeches are only less remarkable; one of them is said to cover an area more than a hundred feet across. The chalk is especially favorable to both these trees, but the cedars and chestnuts which flourish to perfection here could scarcely find any soil more congenial. At Reigate, a few miles further eastward, a curve in the Downs as they project into the Wealden valley has been worn by its prehistoric estuary into an abrupt escarpment only comparable to a steep sea-cliff. The crest of Reigate Hill bears a superficial resemblance to a couching lion, and is popularly knows as the 'Reigate Lion'. The view from the top commands the whole North Downs range from the confines of Hands to those of Kent, 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. 287 the Surrey sandals, from Tilburstow to Hindhead, and the Sussex sandhills, or Forest Ridge, from East Grinstead to Crowborough, and stretches across the undulating tillage and pasture of the Weald, until it is bounded by the South Downs, which contrive to maintain their supremacy by jealously excluding the sea. The roots of the beeches which clothe this hill are the habitat of their curious parasite the monotropa (or bird's-nest), whose colorless blossoms open in July. Beyond Gatton, where a well-wooded site has been converted by art into a fine park, the North Downs, lessen in height and grow barer of trees, becoming bleakest at Kenley, where they narrow into the Caterham valley. As they approach the Kentish boundary their river raiment is again donned. The quiet beauty of the chalk scenery and the unsophisticated charm of its hill villages were never seen to more advantage than in this remote corner of the county before the railway penetrated it. The 'Pilgrim's Road' to Canterbury, though less marked in the Surrey section of the North Downs than it is in Kent, may be distinctly traced at intervals, and is here as elsewhere indicated by a line of yews upon the surmounting ridge. Branches from the main trunk of the Downs form a secondary range approaching within a few miles of London, the pressing needs of whose population for pure water its abundant reservoir is doubtless ere long destined to supply. The huge bulk and salient features of the monster city nowhere loom more impressively out of the mists of its own exhaling, when when seen from the heights of Banstead or Epsom. The Wealden district of Surrey abuts upon and may be taken as continuous with that of Sussex and Kent, so that its scenery presents no marked differences. No one can fail to observe the same traces throughout it of the forestal condition in which it lay for centuries; the same prevalence of oak-coppices skirting breadths of tillage, and bright-green meadows enringed with trees, of miry roads and frequent watercourses. The deep clay is well suited to the growth of wheat, which is in high repute in the country south of Guildford. The red variety, happily for all eyes which delight in warm colour, seems to be most in favour with the Surrey farmers. If our English landscape ever wears 'the burnished livery of the south,' it is seen in the ruddy glow streaming from a field of such wheat when ready for the sickle. The oaks which flourish on this fat and tenacious soil are equally prized in commerce and art. John Linnell never wearied of painting them, and no subjects were worthier of his masculine pencil and harmonious brush. The copses and fields in spring are profuse of all the commoner wild flowers, and here and there may be found a patch of daffodils which are comparatively rare in the south-east of England. Though the district boasts no considerable hills of its own, it lies within eyeshot and at an easy distance from those of the chalk and sand; the outlines of Reigate288 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. Hill rarely being seen to more advantage than from Leigh and Horley, or those of Leith Hill than from Oakley and Capel. In spite of the formalising influence of railway invasion, several of the villages and hamlets hereabouts are still primitive. An ancient church girt with trees, a timbered farmhouse or two standing amid home-crofts, barns and ricks, an inn, and a few cottages clustered round a green, with the parish well, perhaps, in one corner of it, and the parish stocks or the manor-pound in another; these simple elements compose a score of scenes which, but for the occasional intrusion of a parsonage house and a school more or less modern, would wear the same aspect now that they have worn for three centuries. Here and there, in an out-of-the-way nook of this district, we light upon a still quainter survival of old-world England. Such is the sequestered chapel of Oakwood which stands completely embowered in a veritable fragment of the great Wealden forest. Its low rough-hewn arches and pointed roof are of the early English period; the walls, pierced with lancet windows, are supported by massive buttresses. It was built (according to tradition) for the benefit of several scattered villages and hamlets upon the borders of Surrey and Sussex, whose inhabitants were too far from any parish church to attend religious exercises. So little change has passed over its surroundings that, to all appearance, it fulfils the intent of its founder as well today as on the day it was built. A few miles further eastward, in the parish of Lingfield, lingers another venerable relic, the site of a cross dedicated to St. Peter, and the walls of a low building designed to shelter his votaries. The hollow shell of a mighty oak which once shadowed the shrine is in picturesque keeping with its desolation. These characteristics of the World proper are more or less observable of the scattered patches of clay-land in other parts of the country. Owing probably to the slur cast upon the soil by modern sanitary reformers, house property in villages thus situated is somewhat difficult to dispose of, and changes hands infrequently, so that they are likely to retain their old-fashioned rural aspect a little longer. They charming sketches of 'Nature near London,' from the pen of Mr. Jefferies, a faithful observer in whom the spirit of White of Selborne lives again, have been chiefly drawn from one of these isolated spots which, though only twelve miles from town, still remains out of this world. It is the sandstone district of Surrey, however, as has been said, which gives its landscape an individual note. From the suburban region to the extreme edges of the county westward and southward, where it touches upon Hampshire and Sussex, there is scarcely a parish without its tract of common, usually either studded or fringed with Scotch firs and covered with bracken, gorse, heath, heather, 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. 289 or whortleberry. The hills, whether of the greensand or the tertiary formation, partake more or less of the same general character. The seasonal changes of colour which pass over these long stretches of upland and plain constitute their first and obvious attraction. Though the sand lacks the flowerfulness of the chalk and the fertility of the clay, its spring vesture of grass, bracken, whortle, bramble, gorse, and broom, exquisitely compounded of a thousand shades of green, needs no other variety. A little later, gorse and broom together mantle its commons with cloth of gold, while the profusion of eglantine and woodbine in its woodlands and hedgerows, ranging in ting from shell-pink to pearl-white and creamy yellow, makes amends fro any lack of other colour. Midsummer spreads over it here a royal robe of purple heath, there a delicate scarf of lilac heather. Autumn is its season of special glamour, when, form fresh and fading leaves, lingering blossoms and ripening berries, it weaves to subtlest harmonies of green, purple, and crimson, russet and orange. In winter this landscape has a marked advantage over those in which the trees being deciduous present only naked outlines and sombre shading. Its foregrounds have all the diversity that is possible to evergreen woodlands, and its distances the rich bloom of dark blue haze. Not only are its prevailing trees, pine, larch, and birch, beyond the power of frost to spoil, but they are endued thereby with a peculiar grace denied to them at other seasons. By the privation of surrounding tints the blue green frondage of the pine is thrown into stronger relief; and now and again the red-brown tinge of its limbs is heightened by wafts of snow. The needles of the larch are suffused with a warm glow of amber; the pensile beauty of the birch is unveiled anew, and the hoary silver of its stems vividly contrasted with the misty purple of its branches. To trained eyes the sand scenery will appear not less fascinating in point of form than of colouring. The abrupt contours of the hills, with their ragged edges telling of frequent landslips; the high ridges crowned with fir clumps; the deep lanes, dappled on bright days with shadows from the beeches rooted on their ferny banks, and on dull days (thanks to the ironstone in the soil) wearing the semblance of sunshine; the dells upon which you stumble unawares, here fringed with a thick growth of blackthorn and bramble, there bare of all but grass and shelving into reedy pools; the gravel pits with their rudely broken outlines, often long disused, and so overgrown with vegetation as to give shelter to hordes of gipsies and coarse herbage for their beasts; all these features, infinitely varied and contrasted, combine to make the wild country of Surrey the happy hunting-ground of artists. Round about Haslemere, Witley, Godalming, Shere, Abinger, Dorking, and Reigate, the brotherhood muster in force; and the repeated exhibition by such painters as Vicat Cole, the Linnells, Frank Walton, Davidson and Birket Foster, of landscapes, VOL. XVIII.-No. 102. U290 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. manifestly drawn from the same area of observation, but never wanting in novelty or individual interest, bears witness not less to its inexhaustible resources than to their taste and skill in turning them to account. Although the and is richest in evergreens, most of the common deciduous tress take kindly to it. Beeches of great size abound ; the sycamore and hornbeam grow to the dignity of forest trees, and the sweet chestnut sometimes attains a mighty girth. A group of the last-named, about twenty in number, in a ferny valley at Burgate, near Hascombe, has been thus graphically sketched : Their enormous trunks, twisted and contorted like so many struggling giants, are ribbed all over as with a cordage of bark; and between their branches, rich with glossy, Titian-like leaf-masses, glimpses are caught of the blue distance over the weald. Such a bit of Spain it would be difficult to parallel this side of the Pyrenees.2 Two only of the characteristic plants of the sand deserve special remark. Of the heath, more than one variety may be found. The cross-leaved is the rarest and most beautiful, the flowers having a delicate rosy tint, and a superficial resemblance to wax. The whortle- berry (or bilberry) grows alike upon open commons, under the shade of fir-woods, and on the roots of old oaks. Its clear green leave in spring are relieved by the ruddy cup-shaped blossoms, and the darker tint which they wear in the autumn harmonises as effectively with the purple berries. The fruit, though insipid when raw, is delicious when cooked, and retains its flavour as a preserve. Of the ferns, it need only be said that they are plentiful, and include some of the choicer varieties, from the Osmunda regalis downwards. The wildest features of the sand scenery are confined to the neighbourhood of Hindhead and Leith Hill, but many landscapes of tranquil and satisfying charm are to be enjoyed near Reigate and upon the wooded heights of St. George's Hill. The alliance of Nature and Art has here been consummated under the happiest auspices. Perhaps no part of England more closely resembles the native habitat of the finer conifers or the Himalayan and American shrubs than the peaty sandhills of this part of Surrey, where their cultivation has been carried on with complete success. The plantations at St. George's Hill abound in noble specimens of taxodium, cryptomeria, deodara, and similar varieties ; in the villa gardens of Oatlands Park the Wellingtonia thrives admirably, ane the rhododendrons of Bagshot and Knapp Hill, near Woking, have become renowned in the annals of horticulture. These distinctive features of the three leading divisions of Surrey landscape borne in mind, it remains to speak of the novel combinations of beauty which result from their frequent proximity and intermingling. 2 Murray's Handbook of Surrey and Hants, p. 133. 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS: SURREY. 291 This is especially observable at such points as Guildford and Reigate, where the hill-ranges of the chalk and sand closely adjoin, and some of their outlying elevations jut prominently forward into the Weald. A spectator posted upon come coign of vantage in one of these neighbourhoods could thus obtain, under favourable circumstances, a panorama embracing all that is most noteworthy in the physiography of the whole county : A champaign green with whortle and fern ; Flaming with gorse-gold, flushed with purple health ; Hills clothed with beeches ; belts of oak beneath ; Pine woods the murmurous home of doves that yearn Above their nestlings ; plains of wheat that burn And oats that smoulder, growing ripe for death. One more range of scenery has yet to be noticed, which has a character sui generis : the views along the banks and reaches of the Thames from Battersea to Egham. Their changeful aspects, to which it would be impossible to do even fragmentary justice within the narrow margin of space now remaining, appeal irresistibly to many imaginations which are little if at all impressionable to natural beauty in other forms. Some will be chiefly attracted by the diorama of the land as seen from the water ; beginning at the towing-path, obedient to every curve of the winding river, with its scattered groups of toiling men and horses ; the bustling activity of steamboat-piers, wharves and boat-builders' yards, followed by the trim tranquillity of villa gardens, their sloping lawns shaded with trees and bright with flowers ; the wooded outskirts of a park with its lodges and deer-pales ; the clustered roofs of a little village circling round its church and angler's inn ; and closing at the river-side suburb of a thriving town, with its bridge and warehouse, promenade and club-rooms. Others will turn to the diorama of the water as seen from the shore ; the channel alternately widening and narrowing, the restless current as it speeds or slackens, here swelled by a tributary, there lessened by a backwater, now controlled by a lock, now cradling an eyot ; at one time turbid with rain and furious with wind, at another sparkling from a thousand facets in the summer sunshine, or reflecting in its steely mirror the cool grey cloud-bars of an autumn sky ; at one point, the quiet haunt of swans and moor-hens sailing or fluttering amid reeds and osier-beds, at another the lively arena wherein dashing steam-launches and saucy outriggers jostle sober fishing-punts and sleepy barges. Tastes however different, and moods ever so capricious, cannot fail of gratification in scenery so various as this. The two notable views wherein the Thames forms the central attraction, viz. from the summits of Richmond and Cooper's Hills, have already been mentioned ; but there are others less famous, as from Portmore Park, Weybridge, and from the banks of Boyle Farm, Thames Ditton, in which the choicest qualities of a pure river landscape could U2292 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. scarcely be blended more harmoniously. The scenery of the Mole, the Wey, and the Wandle, the three remaining rivers of the county, though not without beauty here and there, does not call for special remark. The first-named river, however, presents the singular phenomenon of deserting its accustomed channel during a dry summer and sinking into certain large gullies know as 'swallows' which occur at intervals along the three miles of its course between Burford Bridge and Leatherhead. After descending into the cavernous fissures in the chalk subsoil which account for its disappearance, it again rises to the surface by several springs and resumes its even current. 3 Some of the wild flowers of Surrey have already been noticed, and only a word or two need be said as to its wild animals. In the sequestered spot which was the scene of Mr. Jefferies' observations of 'Nature near London', he was 'fairly astonished at the variety and abundance of birds' which haunted it, and the present writer's experience of even more populous districts is to the same effect. Some birds, which can scarcely be called common in remoter parts of England, such as the great woodpecker, the restart, the fly-catcher, the magpie, and that shy fowl of many names, night-jar, night-hawk, eve-jar, fern-owl, or goat-sucker, which the Surrey peasants know as the puckeridge, are comparatively numerous. Stag beetles abound in the sandy districts, and a smaller beetle of the tint of burnished copper, called the June-bug, pays a punctual though brief visit there at the beginning of summer. Hornets were far from uncommon, a few years since, in the neighbourhood of Oatlands Park, and showed a disposition to become more domestic than was agreeable to the householders in whose roofs they nested. The peasantry of a county so closely linked with the metropolis and intersected by railways cannot be expected to retain many of their primitive usages. Such as still linger will be found for the most part in the Sussex border. At Ockley and one or two neighbouring villages, the graceful custom of planting rose-trees beside the graves of lovers who die unwedded has not yet fallen into disuse. To inquire whether this be a survival or a revival of the analogous Roman practice might be 'to consider too curiously,' but its prevalence is a few other counties seems to favour the former presumption. Whether actuated by a tender remembrance of this custom in connection with a personal sorrow, or by a quaint desire to perpetuate his fragrant name, 'smell sweet and blossom in the dust,' one Edward Rose, a citizen of London, who died in 1653, bequeathed 20l. for the purchase of a piece of land, wherewith to provide his grave in Barnes churchyard with a constant succession of rose-trees. He 3 The etymology of its name, which the poets have founded upon this mole-lie habit of 'burrowing underground,' seems to be merely fanciful. As the stream serves some important mills, the sites of which are likely to be ancient, the root mol supplies a more probable derivation. 1885 COUNTY CHARACTERISTICS : SURREY. 293 insured the fulfilment of his trust by devoting the surplus proceeds to the poor of the parish, and after the lapse of two centuries and upwards his grave is still a rose-garden. The demarcation between its suburban and rural districts, which was noted at the outset of this sketch as a prominent characteristic of Surrey, cannot be much longer maintained. Year by year the great city prolongs its antennce southward and westward, while the once country towns of Kingston, Richmond, and Guildford exhibit the same tendency upon a smaller scale. Session by session Parliament is besieged with applications from the railway companies which already dominate the county to sanction some fresh ramification of their trunk lines ; nor is it reasonable to expect, wherever a demand for 'residential' traffic exists, that the means of supplying it will eventually be withheld. On the other hand, the unprofitable nature of the soil in some of the wildest districts may avail in a measure to secure them from invasion. When the public mind has been fully awakened not only to the sanitary need of conserving open spaces in the neighbourhood of a crowded city, but to the moral obligation of providing its toil-worn denizens with the refreshment of natural beauty, the very proximity of these districts to London, which would seem to threaten them with destruction, will suffice to save them harmless. One inevitable consequence of this proximity constitutes a drawback to the enjoyment of them by a large minority that must increasingly be felt. The spectacle of Sites which are old with memories older still, Whereon a new and coarser world intrudes ; of the stately ruins of a Tudor palace confronted with a pretentious stuccoed villa or a flaunting inn, is one that, seen for the first time, can hardly fail to jar upon cultivated sensibilities. Happily there are still many spots left in Surrey where no such shock awaits the traveller. some scenes so effectually hallowed by the genius loci as to defy desecration, and other so out of the beaten way as to escape the notice of the most speculative builder : And there for him who loves her solitudes Nature has kept themclear from smoke and din. HENRY G. HEWLETT. 294 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. (CONCLUDED.) THERE is not, it seems to me, in all this marvellous life, to which wellnigh every year brought its additional aureole of glory, a point more important, a date more memorable, than the publication of the Chatiments. Between the prologue Night and the epilogue Light the ninety-eight poems that roll and break and lighten and thunder like waves of a visible sea fulfil the choir of their crescent and refluent harmonies with hardly less depth and change and strength of misc, with no less living force and with no less passionate unity, than the waters on whose shores they were written. Two poems, the third and the sixth, in the first of the seven books into which the collection is divided, may be taken as immediate and sufficient instances of the two different keys in which the entire book is written; of the two styles, one bitterly and keenly realistic, keeping scornfully close to shameful fact -- one higher in flight and wider in range of outlook, soaring strongly to the very summits of lyric passion - which alternate in terrible and sublime antiphony throughout the living pages of this imperishable record. A second Juvenal might have drawn for us with not less of angry infidelity and superb disgust the ludicrous and loathsome inmates of the den infested by holy hirelings of the clerical press: no Roman satirist could have sung, no Roman lyrist could have thundered, such a poem as that which has blasted for ever the name and the memory of the prostitute archbishop Sibour. The poniard of the priest who struck him dead at the altar he had desecrated struck a blow less seep and deadly than had been dealt already on the renegade pander of a far more infamous assassin. The next poem is a notable and remarkable example of the fusion sometimes accomplished - or, if this be thought a phrase too strong for accuracy, of the middle note sometimes touched, of the middle way sometimes taken - between the purely lyric and the purely satiric style or method. But it would be necessary to dwell on every poem, to pause at every page, if adequate justice were to be done to this or indeed to any of the volumes of verse published from this time forth by Victor Hugo. I will therefore, not without serious diffidence, venture once 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 295 more to indicate by selection such poems as seem to me most especially notable among the greatest even of these. In the first book, besides the three already mentioned, I take for examples the solemn utterance of indignant mourning addressed to the murdered dead of the fourth of December; the ringing song in praise of art which ends in a note of noble menace; the scornful song that follows it, with a burden so majestic in its variations; the fearful and faithful 'map of Europe' in 1852, with its closing word of witness for prophetic hope and faith; and the simple perfection of pathos in the song of the little forsaken birds and lambs and children. In the second book, the appeal 'To the People,' with a threefold cry for burden, calling on the buried Lazarus to rise again in words that seem to reverberate from stanza to stanza like peal upon peal of living thunder, prolonged in steadfast cadence from height to height across the hollows of a range of mountains, is one of the most wonderful symphonies of tragic and triumphant verse that ever shook the hearts of its hearers with rapture of rage and pity. The first and the two last stanzas seem to me absolutely unsurpassed and unsurpassable for pathetic majesty of music. If ever a more superb structure of lyric verse was devised by the brain of man, it must have been, I am very certain, in a language utterly unknown to me. Every line, every pause, every note of it should be studied and restudied by those who would thoroughly understand the lyrical capacity of Hugo's at its very highest point of power, in the fullest sweetness of its strength. About the next poem - 'Souvenir de la nuit du 4' - others may try, if they please, to write, if they can; I can only confess that I cannot. Nothing so intolerable in its pathos, I should think, was ever written. The stately melody of the stanzas in which the exile salutes in a tone of severe content the sorrows that environ and the comforts that sustain him, the island of his refuge, the sea-birds and the sea-rocks and the sea, closes aptly with yet another thought of the mothers weeping for their children. The close of the third poem in the fourth book is a nobler protest than ever has been uttered or can ever be uttered in prose against the service sophism of a false democracy which affirms or allows that a people has the divine right of voting itself into bondage. There is nothing grander in Juvenal, and nothing more true. The sixth and seventh poems in this book are each a superb example of its kind; the verses on an interview between Abd-el-Kader and Bonaparte are worthy of a place among the earlier Orientales for simplicity and fulness of effect in lyric tone and colour; and satire could hardly give a finer and completer little study than that of the worthy tradesman who for love of his strong-box would give his vote for a very Phalaris to reign over him, and put up with the brazen bull for love of the golden calf: an epigram which sums up an epoch. The indignant 296 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. poem of Joyeuse Vie, with its terrible photographs of subterranean toil and want, is answered by the not less terrible though ringing and radiant song of L'empereur s'amuse ; and this again by the four solemn stanzas in which a whole word of desolate suffering is condensed and realized. The verses of good counsel in which the imperial Macaire is admonished not to take himself too seriously, or trust in the duration of his fair and foul good fortune, are unsurpassed for concentration of contempt. The dialogue of the tyrannicide by the starlit sea with all visible and invisible things that impel or implore him to do justice, is so splendid and thrilling in its keen and ardent brevity that we can hardly feel as though as sufficient answer were given to the instinctive reasoning which finds inarticulate utterance in the cry of the human conscience for retribution by a human hand, even when we read the two poems, at once composed and passionate in their austerity, which bid men leave God to deal with the supreme criminal of humanity. A Night's Lodging, the last poem of the fourth book, is perhaps the very finest and most perfect example of imaginative and tragic satire that exists : if this rank be due to a poem at once the most vivid in presentation, the most sublime in scorn, the most intense and absolute in condensed expression of abhorrence and in assured expression of belief. But in the fifth of these even caskets of chiselled gold and tempered steel there is a pearl of greater price than in any of the four yet opened. The song dated from sea, which take farewell of all good things and all gladness left behind – of house and home, of the flowers and the sky, of the betrothed bride with her maiden brow – the song which as in its burden the heavy plashing sound of the wave following on the wave that swells and breaks against the bulwarks – the song of darkening waters and the darkened lives has in it a magic, for my own ear at least, incomparable in the whole wide world of human song. Even to the greatest poets of all time such a godsend as this – such a breath of instant inspiration – can come but rarely and seem give as by miracle, 'There is sorrow on the sea,' as the prophet said of old ; but when was there sorrow on sea or land which found such piercing and such perfect utterance as this ? The next poem is addressed to a disappointed accomplice of the crime still triumphant and imperial in the eyes of his fellow-scoundrels, who seems to have shown signs of a desire to break away from them and a suspicion that even then the ship of empire was beginning to leak – though, in fact, it had still seventeen years of more or less radiant rascality to float through before it foundered in the ineffable ignominy of Sedan. Full ringing and stinging eloquence, of keen and sonorous lines or lashes of accumulating scorn, this poem is especially noteworthy for its tribute to the murdered republic of Rome. Certain passages in certain earlier works of Huge, in Cromwell for instance and in Marie Tudor, had given rise to a natural 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 297 and indeed inevitable suspicion of some prejudice or even antipathy on the writer's part which had not less unavoidably aroused a feeling among Italians that his disposition or tone of mind was anything but cordial or indeed amicable towards their country : a suspicion probably heightened, and a feeling probably sharpened, by his choice of such dramatic subjects from Italian history or tradition as the domestic eccentricities of the degenerate commonwealth of Venice. To sense that Hugo was hardly less than an enemy and that Byron had been something more than a well-wisher to Italy I have always attributed the unquestionable and otherwise inexplicable fact that Mazzini should have preferred the pinchbeck and tinsel of Byron to the gold and ivory of Hugo. But it was impossible that the master poet of the world should not live to make amends, if indeed amends were needed, to the country of Mazzini and of Dante. If I have hardly time to mention the simple and vivid narrative of the martyrdom of Pauline Roland, I must pause at least to dwell for a moment on so famous and so great a poem as L'Expiation ; but not to pronounce, or presume to endeavour to decide, which of its several pictures is the most powerful, which of its epic or lyric variations the most impressive and triumphant in effect. The huge historic pageant of ruin, from Moscow to Waterloo, from Waterloo to St. Helena, with the posthumous interlude of apotheosis which the poet has loudly and proudly celebrated just twelve years earlier in an ode, turned suddenly into the peepshow of a murderous mountebank, the tawdry triumph of buffoons besmeared with innocent blood, is so tremendous in its anticlimax that not the sublimest and most miraculous climax imaginable could make so tragic and sublime an impression so indelible from the mind. The slow agony of the great army under the snow ; its rout and dissolution in the supreme hour of panic ; the slower agony, the more gradual dissolution, of the prisoner with a gaoler's eye intent on him to the last ; who can say which of these three is done into verse with most faultless and sovereign power of hand, most pathetic or terrific force and skill? And the hideous judicial dishonour of the crowning retribution after death, the parody of his empire and the prostitution of his name, is so much more tragic by reason of the very farce in it that out of ignominy itself and uttermost degradation the poet has made something more august in moral impression than all pageants of battle or of death. In the sixth book I can but rapidly remark the peculiar beauty and greatness of the lyric lines in which the sound of steady seas regularly breaking on the rock at Rozel Tower is rendered with so solemn and severe an echo of majestic strength in sadness ; the verses addressed to the people on its likeness and unlikeness to the sea ; the scornful and fiery appeal to the spirit of Juvenal ; the perfect idyllic picture of spring, with all the fruitless exultation of its blossoms and298 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. its birds, made suddenly dark and dissonant by recollection of human crime and shame; the heavenly hopefulness of comfort in the message of the morning star, conveyed into colours of speech and translated into cadences of sound which no painter or musician could achieve. The first poem of the seventh book, on the falling of the walls of Jericho before the seventh trumpet-blast, is equally great in description and in application; the third is one of the great lyric masterpieces of all time, the triumphant ballad of the Black Huntsman, unsurpassed in the world for ardour of music and fitful change of note from mystery and terror to rage and tempest and supreme serenity of exultation-'wind and storm fulfilling his word,' we may literally say of this omnipotent sovereign of song. The sewer of Rome, a final receptacle for dead dogs an rotting Caesars, is is painted line by line and detail by detail in verse which touches with almost frightful skill the very limit of the possible or permissible to poetry in the way of realistic loathsomeness or photographic horror; relieved here and there by a rare and exquisite image, a fresh breath or tender touch of loveliness from the open air of the daylight world above. The song on the two Napoleons is a masterpiece of skilful simplicity in contrast of tones and colours. But the song which follows, written to a tune of Beethoven's, has in it something more than the whole soul of music, the whole passion of self-devoted hope and self-transfiguring faith; it gives the final word of union between sound and spirit, the mutual coronation and consummation of them both. The Caravan, a magnificent picture, is also a magnificent allegory and a magnificent hymn. The poem following sums up in twenty-six lines a whole world of terror and of tempest hurtling and wailing round the wreck of a boat by night. It is followed by a superb appeal against the infliction of death on rascals whose reptile blood would dishonour and defile the scaffold: and this again by an admonition to their chief not to put his trust in the chance of a high place of infamy among the more genuinely imperial hellhounds of historic record. The next poem gives us in perfect and exquisite summary the opinions of a contemporary conservative on a dangerous anarchist of extravagant opinions and disreputable character, whom for example's sake it was at length found necessary to crucify. There is no song more simply and nobly pitiful than that which tells us in its burden how a man may die for lack of his native country as naturally and inevitably as for a lack of his daily bread. Then, in the later editions of the book, came the great and terrible poem on the life and death of the miscreant marshal who gave the watchword of massacre in the streets of Paris, and died by the visitation of disease before the walls of Sebastopol. There is hardly a more splendid passage of its kind in all the Légende des Siècles than the description of the departure of the fleet 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 299 in order of battle from Constantinople for the Crimea; nor a loftier passage of more pathetic austerity in all this book of Châtiments than the final address of the poet to the miserable soul, disembodied at length after long and loathsome suffering, of the murderer and traitor who had earned no soldier's death.2 And them come those majestic 'last words' which will ring for ever in the ears of men till manhood as well as poetry has ceased to have honour among mankind. And then comes a poem so great that I hardly dare venture to attempt a word in its praise. We cannot choose but think, as we read or repeat it, that 'such music was never made' since the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy, This epilogue of a book so bitterly and inflexibly tragic begins as with a peal of golden bells, or an outbreak of all April in one choir of sunbright song; proceeds in a graver note of deep and trustful exultation and yearning towards the future; subsides again into something of a more subdued key, while the poet pleads for his faith in a God of righteousness with the righteous who are ready to despair; and rises from that tone of awe-stricken and earnest pleading to such a height and rapture of inspiration as no Hebrew psalmist or prophet ever soared beyond in his divinest passion of aspiring trust and worship. It is simply impossible that a human tongue should utter, a human hand should write, anything of more supreme and transcendent beauty than the last ten stanzas of the fourth division of this poem. The passionate and fervent accumulation of sublimities, of marvellous images and of infinite appeal, leaves the sense too dazzled, the soul too entranced and exalted, to appreciate at first or in full the miraculous beauty of the language, the superhuman sweetness of the song. The reader impervious to such impressions may rest assured that what he admires in the prophecies or the psalms of Isaiah or of David is not the inspiration of the text, but the warrant and sign-manual of the councils and the churches which command hi to admire them on trust. Three years after the Châtiments Victor Hugo published the Contemplations; the book of which he said that if the title did not sound somewhat pretentious it night be called 'the memoirs of a soul.' No book had ever in it more infinite and exquisite variety; no concert ever diversified and united such inexhaustible melodies with such unsurpassable harmonies. The note of fatherhood was never touched more tenderly than in the opening verses of gentle counsel, whose cadence is fresher and softer than the lapse of rippling water or the sense of falling dew: the picture of the poet's two little 2 This poem on Saint-Arnaud is dated from Jersey, and must therefore have been written before the second of November 1855-a date of disgrace for Jersey, if not indeed for England. It appears in the various later editions of the Châtiments, but has disappeared from the so-called 'édition définitive.' All readers a right to ask why-and a right to be answered when they ask.300 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. daughters in the twilight garden might defy all painters to translate it : the spirit, force, and fun of the controversial poems, overflowing at once with good humour, with serious though, and with kindly indignation, give life and charm to the obsolete questions of wrangling schools and pedants ; and the last of them, on the divine and creative power of speech, is at once profound and sublime enough to grapple easily and thoroughly with so high and deep a subject. The songs of childish loves and boyish fancies are unequalled by any other poet's know to me for their union of purity and gentleness with a touch of dawning ardour and a hint of shy delight ; Lise, La Conccinelle, Vieille chanson du jeune temps, are such sweet miracles of simple perfection as we hardly find except in the old songs of unknown great poets how died and left no name. The twenty-first poem, a lyric idyl of but sixteen lines, has something more than the highest qualities of Theocritus ; in colour and in melody it does but equal the Sicilian at his best, but there are two lines at least in it beyond his reach for depth and majesty of beauty. Childhood and Unity. two poems of twelve and ten lines respectively, are a pair of such flawless jewels as lie now in no living poet's casket. Among the twenty- eight poems of the second book, if I venture to name with special regard the second and the fourth, two songs uniting the subtle tenderness of Shelley's with the frank simplicity of Shakespeare's ; the large and living landscape in a letter date from Tréport ; the tenth and the thirteenth poems, two of the most perfect love-songs in the world, written (if the phrase be permissible) in a key of serene rapture ; the 'morning's note,' with its vision of the sublime sweetness of life transfigured in a dream ; Twilight, with its opening touches of magical and mystic beauty ; above all, the mournful and tender magnificence of the closing poem, with a pathetic significance in the double date appended to the text : I am ready to confess that it is perhaps presumptuous to express a preference even for these over the others. In the third book, which brings us up to the great poet's forty-second year, the noble poem called Melancholia has in it a foretaste and a promise of all the passionate meditation, all the studious and indefatigable pity, all the forces of wisdom and of mercy which were to find their completer and supreme expression in Les Misérables. In Saturn we may trace the same note of earnest and thoughtful meditation on the mystery of evil, on the vision so long cherished by mankind of some purgatorial world, the shrine of expiation or the seat of retribution, which in the final volume of the La Légende des Siècles was touched again with a yet more august effect : the poem there called Inferi resumes and expands the tragic though here first admitted into speech and first clothed round with music. The four lines written beneath a crucifix may almost be said to sum up the whole soul and spirit of Christian faith or feeling in the brief hour of its early purity, revived in every 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 301 age again for some rare and beautiful natures – and for these alone. La Statue, with its grim glance over the worldwide rottenness of imperial Rome, finds again an echo yet fuller and more sonorous than then note which it repeats in the poem on Roman decadence which forms the eighth division of the revised and completed Légende des Siècles. The two delicately tender poems on the death of a little child are well relieved by the more terrible tenderness of the poem on a mother found dead of want among her four little children. In this and the next poem, a vivid and ghastly photograph of vicious poverty, we find again the same spirit of observant and vigilant compassion that inspires and informs the great prose epic of suffering which records the redemption of Jean Valjean : and in the next, suggested by the sight (a sorrowful sight always, except perhaps to very small children or adults yet more diminutive in mental or spiritual size) of a caged lion, we recognize the depth of noble pity which moved its author to write Le Crapaud – a poem redeemed in all rational men's eyes from the imminent imputation of repulsive realism by the profound and pathetic beauty of the closing lines – and we may recognize also the imaginative and childlike sympathy with the traditional king of beasts which inspired him long after to write L’Épopée du lion for the benefit of his grandchildren. Insomnie, a record of the tribute exacted by the spirit from the body, when the impulse to work and to create will not let the weary workman take his rest, but enforces him, reluctant and recalcitrant, to rise and gird up his loins for labour in the field of imaginative thought, is itself a piece of work well worth the sacrifice even of the happiness of sleep. The verses on music, suggested by the figure of a flute-playing shepherd on a bas-relief ; the splendid and finished picture of spring, softened rather than shadowed by the quiet thought of death ; the deep and tender fancy of the dead child's return to its mother through the gateway of a second birth ; the grave sweetness and gentle fervour of the verses on the outcast and detested things of the animal and the vegetable world ; and, last, the nobly thoughtful and eloquent poem on the greatness of such little things as the fire on the shepherd's hearth confronting the star at sunset, which may be compared with the Prayer for all men in the Feuilles d'Automne ; these at least demand a rapid word of thankful recognition before we close the first volume of the Contemplations. The fourth book, as most readers will probably remember, contains the poems written in memory of Victor Hugo's daughter, drowned by the accidental capsizing of a pleasure-boat, just six months and seventeens days after her marriage with the young husband who chose rather to share her death than to save himself alone. These immortal songs of mourning are almost too sacred for critical appreciation of even the most reverent and subdued order. There are numberless touches in them of such thrilling beauty, so 302 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. poignant in their simplicity and so piercing in their truth, that silence is perhaps the best or the only commentary on anything so 'rarely sweet and bitter'. The fifth book opens most fitly with an address to the noble poet who was the comrade of the author's exile and the brother of his self-devoted son-in-law. Even Hugo never wrote anything of more stately and superb simplicity than this tribute of fatherly love and praise, so well deserved and so royally bestowed. The second poem, addressed to the son of a poet who had the honour to receive the greatest of all his kind as a passing guest in the first days of his long exile, is as simple and noble as it is gentle and austere. The third, written in reply to the expostulations of an old friend and a distant kinsman, is that admirable vindication of a man's right to grow wiser, and of his duty to speak the truth as he comes to see it better, which must have imposed silence and impressed respect on all assailants if respect for integrity and genius were possible to the imbecile or the vile, and if silence or abstinence from insult were possible to the malignant or the food. The epilogue, appended nine years later to this high-minded and brilliant poem, is as noble in imagination, in feeling, and in expression, as the finest page in the Châtiments. The verses addressed to friends whose love and reverence had not forsaken the exile–to Jules Janin, to Alexandre Dumas, above all to Paul Meurice–are models of stately grace in their utterance of serene and sublime resignation, of loyal and affectionate sincerity : but those addressed to the sharers of his exile–to his wife, to his children, to their friend–have yet a deeper spiritual music in the sweet and severe perfection of their solemn cadence. I have but time to name with a word of homage in passing the famous and faultless little poem Aux Feuillantines, fragrant with the memory and musical as the laugh of childhood ; the memorial verses recurring here and there, with such infantile and subtle variations on the same deep theme of mourning or of sympathy ; the great brief studies of lonely landscape, imbued with such grave radiance and such noble melancholy, or kindled with the motion and quickened by the music of the sea ; but two poems at all events I must select for more especial tribute of more thankful recognition : the sublime and wonderful vision of the angel who was neither life nor death, but love, more strong than either : and the all but sublimer allegory couched in verse of such majestic resonance, which shows us the star of Venus in heaven above the ruin of her island on earth. If nothing were left of Hugo but the sixth book of the Contemplations, it would yet be indisputable among those who know anything of poetry that he was among the foremost in the front rank of the greatest poets of all time. Here, did space allow, it would be necessary for criticism with any pretence to adequacy to say something of every poem in turn, 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 303 to pause for observation of some beauty beyond reach of others at every successive page. In the first poem a sublime humility finds such expression as should make manifest to the dullest eye not clouded by malevolence and insolent conceit that when this greatest of modern poets asserts in his own person the high prerogative and assumes for his own spirit the high office of humanity, to confront the darkest problem and to challenge the utmost force of intangible and invisible injustice as of visible and tangible iniquity, of all imaginable as of all actual evil, of superhuman indifference as well as of human wrongdoing, it is no merely personal claim that he puts forward, no vainly egotistic arrogance that he displays ; but the right of a reasonable conscience and the duty of a righteous faith, common to all men alike in whom intelligence of right and wrong, perception of duty or conception of conscience, can be said to exist at all. If there be any truth in the notion of any difference between evil and good more serious than the conventional and convenient fabrications of doctrine and assumption, then assuredly the meanest of his creatures in whom the perception of this differences was not utterly extinct would have a right to denounce an omnipotent evil-doer as justly amenable to the sentence inflicted by the thunders of his own unrighteous judgment. How profound and intense was the disbelief of Victor Hugo in the rule or in the existence of any such superhuman malefactor could not be better shown than by the almost polemical passion of his prophetic testimony to that need for faith in a central conscience and a central will on which he has insisted again and again as the crowning and indispensable requisite for moral and spiritual life. From the sublime daring, the self- confidence born of self-devotion, which finds lyrical utterance in the majestic verses headed lbo, through the humble and haughty earnestness of remonstrance and appeal – 'humble to God, haughty to man' – which pervades the next three poems, the meditative and studious imagination of the poet passes into the fuller light and larger air of thought which imbues and informs with immortal life every line of the great religious poem called Pleurs dans la nuit. In this he touches the highest point of poetic meditation, as in the epilogue to the Châtiments, written four months earlier, he had touched the highest point of poetic rapture, possible to the most ardent of believers in his faith and the most unapproachable master of his art. Where all is so lofty in its coherence of construction, so perfect in its harmony of composition, it seems presumptuous to indicate any special miracle of inspired workmanship : yet, as Hugo in his various noted on medieval architecture was wont to select for exceptional attention and peculiar eloquence of praise this or that part or point of some superb and harmonious building, so I am tempted to dwell for a moment on the sublime imagination, the pathetic passion, of the verses which render into music the idea of a terrene and material 304 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. purgatory, with its dungeons of flint and cells of clay wherein the spirit imprisoned and imbedded may envy the life and covet the suffering of the meanest animal that toils on earth; and to set beside this wonderful passage that other which even in a poem so thoroughly imbued with hope and faith finds place and voice for expression of the old mysterious and fantastic horror of the grave, more perfect than ever any mediaeval painter or sculptor could achieve. Among all the poems which follow, some exquisite in their mystic tenderness as the elegiac stanzas on Claire and the appealing address to a friend unknown (A celle qui est voilee), others possessed with the same faith and wrestling with the same questions as beset and sustained the writer of the poem at which we have just rapidly and reverently glanced, there are three at least which demand from me at any rate one passing word of homage; the starry song of meditation 'at the window by night,' which renders in its first six lines the aspects and the sounds of sea and cloud and wind and trees and stars with an utterly incomparable magic of interpretation; the three stanzas, so full of infinite sweetness and awe, inscribed 'to the angels who see us:' and the pathetic perfection of the verses in which just thirty years since, twelve years to a day after the loss of his daughter, and fifteen years to a day before the return of liberty which made possible the return of Victor Hugo to France, his claims to the rest into which he now has entered, and his reasons for desiring the attainment of that rest, found utterance unexcelled for divine and deep simplicity by any utterance of man on earth. Last comes the magnificent and rapturous hymn of universal redemption from suffering as from sin, the prophetic vision of evil absorbed by good, and the very worst of spirits transfigured into the likeness of the very best, in which the daring and indomitable faith of the seer finds dauntless and supreme expression in choral harmonies of unlimited and illimitable hope. The epilogue which dedicates the book to the daughter whose grave was now forbidden ground to her father—so long wont to keep there the autumnal anniversary of his mourning— is the very crown and flower of the immortal work which it inscribes, if we may say so, rather to the presence than to the memory of the dead. Not till the thirtieth year from the publication of these two volumes was the inexhaustible labour of the spirit which inspired them to cease for a moment—and then, among us at least, for ever. Three years afterwards appeared the first series of the Legende des Siecles, to be followed nineteen years later by the second, and by the final complementary volume six years after that: so that between the inception and the conclusion of the greatest single work accomplished in the course of our century a quarter of that century had elapsed— with stranger and more tragic evolution of events than any poet or any seer could have foretold or foreseen as possible. Three years 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 305 again from this memorable date appeared the great epic and tragic poem of contemporary life and of eternal humanity which gave us all the slowly ripened fruit of the studies and emotions, the passions and the thoughts, the aspiration and the experience, brought finally to their full and perfect end in Les Miserables. As the key-note of Notre-Dame de Paris was doom—the human doom of suffering to be nobly or ignobly endured—so the key-note of its author's next romance was redemption by acceptance of suffering and discharge of duty in absolute and entire obedience to the utmost exaction of conscience when it calls for atonement, of love when it calls for sacrifice of all that makes life more endurable than death. It is obvious that no account can here be given of a book which if it required a sentence would require a volume to express the character of its quality or the variety of its excellence—the one unique, the latter infinite, as the unique and infinite spirit whose intelligence and whose goodness gave it life. Two years after Les Miserables, appeared the magnificent book of meditations on the mission of art in the world, on the duty of human thought towards humanity, inscribed by Victor Hugo with the name of William Shakespeare. To allow that it throws more light on the greatest genius of our own century than on the greatest genius of the age of Shakespeare is not to admit that it is not rich in valuable and noble contemplations or suggestions on the immediate subject of Shakespeare's work; witness the admirably thoughtful and earnest remarks on Macbeth, the admirably passionate and pathetic reflections on Lear. The splendid eloquence and the heroic enthusiasm of Victor Hugo never found more noble and sustained expression than in this volume—the spontaneous and inevitable expansion of a projected preface to his son's incomparable translation of Shakespeare. The preface actually prefixed to it is admirable for concision, for insight, and for grave historic humour. It appeared a year after the book which (so to speak) had grown out of it; and in the same year appeared the Chansons des Rues et des Bois. The miraculous dexterity of touch, the dazzling mastery of metre, the infinite fertility in variations on the same air of frolic and thoughtful fancy, would not apparently allow the judges of the moment to perceive or to appreciate the higher and deeper qualities displayed in this volume of lyric idyls. The prologue is a superb example of the power peculiar to its author above all other poets; the power of seizing on some old symbol or image which may have been in poetic use ever since verse dawned upon the brain of man, and informing it again as with life, and transforming it anew as by fire. Among innumerable exercises and excursions of dainty but indefatigable fancy there are one or two touches of a somewhat deeper note than usual which would hardly be misplaced in the gravest and most ambitious works of imaginative genius. The twelve lines (of four syllables each) addressed A la belle VOL. XVIII.—No. 102. X 306 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. imperieuse are such, for example, as none but a great poet of passion, a master of imaginative style, could by any stroke of chance or at any cost of toil have written. The sound of the songs of a whole woodland seems to ring like audible spring sunshine through the adorable song of love and youth rejoicing among the ruins of an abbey. The inexhaustible exuberance of fancies lavished on the study of the natural church, built by the hawthorn and the nettle in the depth of the living wood, with foliage and wind and flowers, leaves the reader not unfit for such reading actually dazzled with delight. In a far different key, the Souvenir des vieilles guerres is one of Hugo's most pathetic and characteristic studies of homely and heroic life. The dialogue which follows, between the irony of scepticism and the enthusiasm of reason, on the progressive ascension of mankind, is at once sublime and subdued in the fervent tranquillity of its final tone: and the next poem, on the so-called 'great age' and its dwarf of a Caesar with the sun for a periwig, has in it a whole volume of history and of satire condensed into nine stanzas of four lines of five syllables apiece. The exquisite poem on the closure of the church already described for the winter is as radiant with humour as with tenderness: and the epilogue responds in cadences of august antiphony to the moral and imaginative passion which imbues with life and fire the magnificent music of the prologue. In the course of the next four years Victor Hugo published the last two great works which were to be dated from the haven of his exile. It would be the very ineptitude of impertinence for any man's presumption to undertake the classification or registry of his five great romances in positive order of actual merit: but I may perhaps be permitted to say without fear of deserved rebuke that none is to me personally a treasure of greater price than Les Travailleurs de la Mer. The splendid energy of the book makes the superhuman energy of the hero seem not only possible but natural, and his triumph over all physical impossibilities not only natural but inevitable. Indeed, when glancing at the animadversions of a certain sort of critics on certain points or passages in this and in the next romance of its author, I am perpetually inclined to address them in the spirit - were it worth while to address them in any wise at all - after the fashion if not after the very phrase of Mirabeau's reply to a less impertinent objector. Victor Hugo's acquaintance with navigation or other sciences may or may not have been as imperfect as Shakespeare's acquaintance with geography and natural history; the knowledge of such a man's ignorance or inaccuracy in detail is in either case of exactly equal importance: and the importance of such knowledge is for all men of sense and candour exactly equivalent to zero. Between the tragedy of Gilliatt and the tragedy of Gwynplaine Victor Hugo published nothing but the glorious little poem on the slaughter of Mentana, called La Voix de Guernesey, and (in the 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 307 same year) the eloquent and ardent effusion of splendid and pensive enthusiasm prefixed to the manual or guide-book which appeared on the occasion of the international exhibition at Paris three years before the collapse of the government which then kept out of France the Frenchmen most regardful of her honour and their own. In the year preceding that collapse he published L'Homme qui Rit; a book which those who read it aright have always ranked and will always rank among his masterpieces. A year and eight months after the fall of the putative Bonaparte he published the terrible register of L'Annee Terrible. More sublime wisdom, more compassionate equity, more loyal self-devotion, never found expression in verse of more varied and impassioned and pathetic magnificence. The memorial poem in which Victor Hugo so royally repaid, with praise beyond all price couched in verse beyond all praise, the loyal and constant devotion of Theophile Gautier, bears the date of All Souls' Day in the autumn of 1872. For tenderness and nobility of mingling aspiration and recollection, recollection of combatant and triumphant youth, aspiration towards the serene and sovereign ascension out of age through death, these majestic lines are worthy not merely of eternal record, but far more than that - of a distinct and a distinguished place among the poems of Victor Hugo. They are not to be found in the edition ne varietur: which, I must needs repeat, will have to be altered or modified by more variations than one before it can be accepted as a sufficient or standard edition of the complete and final text. Two years after the year of terror, the poet who had made its memory immortal by his record of its changes and its chances gave to the world his heroic and epic romance of Quatrevingt-treize; instinct with all the passion of a deeper and wider chivalry than that of old, and touched with a more than Homeric tenderness for motherhood and childhood. This book was written in the space of five months and twenty-seven days. The next year witnessed only the collection of the second series of his Actes et Paroles (Pendant l'Exil), and the publication of two brief and memorable pamphlets: the one a simple and pathetic record of the two beloved sons taken from him in such rapid succession, the other a terse and earnest plea with the judges who had spared the life of a marshal condemned on a charge of high treason to spare likewise the life of a private soldier condemned for a transgression of military discipline. Most readers will be glad to remember that on this occasion at least the voice of the intercessor was not uplifted in vain. A year afterwards he published the third series of Actes et Paroles (Depuis l'Exil), with a prefatory essay full of noble wisdom, of pungent and ardent scorn, of thoughtful and composed enthusiasm, on the eternal contrast and the everlasting battle between the spirit of clerical Rome and the spirit of republican Paris. 'Moi qu'un petit enfant rend tout a fait stupide,' I do not pur- x 2308 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY Aug. pose to undertake a review of L'Art d'etre Grand-pere. It must suffice here to register the fact that the most absolutely and adorably beautiful book ever written appeared a year after the volume just mentioned, and some months after the second series of the Legende des Siecles; that there is not a page in it which is not above all possible eulogy or thanksgiving; that nothing was ever conceived more perfect than such poems - to take but a small handful for samples - as Un manque, La sieste, Choses du soir, Ce que dit le public (at the Jardin des Plantes or at the Zoological Gardens; ages of public ranging from five, which is comparatively young, to seve, which is positively old), Chant sur le berceau, the song for a round dance of children, Le pot casse, La mise en liberte, Jeanne endormie, the delicious Chanson de grand-pere, the glorious Chanson d'ancetre, or the third of the divine and triune poems on the sleep of a little child; that after reading these - to say nothing of the rest - it seems natural to feel as though no other poet had ever known so fully or enjoyed so wisely or spoken so sweetly and so well the most precious of truths, the loveliest of loves, the sweetest and the best of doctrines. Far different in the promise or the menace of its theme, the poet's next work, issued in the following year, was one in spirit with the inner spirit of this book. In sublime simplicity of conception and in sovereign accomplishment of its design, Le Pape is excelled by no poem of Hugo's or of man's. In the glory of pure pathos it is perhaps excelled, as in the divine long-suffering of all- merciful wisdom it can be but equalled, by the supreme utterance of La Pitie Supreme. In splendour of changeful music and imperial magnificence of illustration the two stand unsurpassed for ever, side by side. A third poem, attacking at once the misbelief or rather the infidelity which studies and rehearses 'the grammar of assent' to creeds and articles of religion, and the blank disbelief or denial which rejects all ideals and all ideas of spiritual life, is not so rich even in satire as in reason, so earnest even in rejection of false doctrine as in assertion of free belief. These three were respectively published in three successive years: but in the same year with Religions et Religion Victor Hugo published a fourth volume, L'Ane, in which the questions of human learning and of human training were handled with pathetic ardour and sympathetic irony. It would be superfluous if not insolent to add that the might of hand, the magic of utterance, the sovereign charm of sound, and the superb expression of sense, are equal and incomparable in all. And next year Victor Hugo gave us Les Quatre Vents de L'Esprit. In the first division, the book of satire, every page bears witness that the hand which wrote the Chatiments had neither lost its strength nor forgotten its cunning; it is full of keen sense, of wise wrath, of brilliant reason and of merciful equity. The double drama which follows is one of the deepest and sweetest and richest in various effect among 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 309 the masterpieces of its author. In Margarita we breathe again the same fresh air of heroic mountain-ranges and woodlands inviolable, of winds and flowers and all fair things and thoughts, which blows through all the brighter and more gracious interludes of the Legende des Siecles: the figures of Gallus, the libertine by philosophy, and Gunich, the philosopher of profligacy - the former a true man and true lover at heart, the latter a cynic and a courtier to the core - are as fresh in their novelty as the figures of noble old age and noble young love are fresh in their renewal and reimpression of types familiar to all hearts since the sunrise of Hernani. The tragedy which follows this little romantic comedy is but the more penetrative and piercing in its pathos and its terror for its bitter and burning vein of realism and of humour. The lyric book is a casket of jewels rich enough to outweigh the whole wealth of many a poet. After the smiling song of old times, the stately song of to-day with its other stars and its other roses, in sight of the shadow where grows the deathless flower of death, pale and haggard, with its shadowy perfume: the song of all sweet waking dreams and visions, and sweetest among them all the vision of a tyrant loyally slain: the song on hearing a princess sing, sweeter than all singing and simple as 'the very virtue of compassion': the song of evening, and rest from trouble, and prayer in sorrow, and hope in death: the many-coloured and sounding song of seaside winter nights: the song of three nests, the reed-warbler's and the martlet's made with moss and straw, in the wall or on the water, and love's with glances and smiles, in the lover's inmost heart: the song of the watcher by twilight on the cliff, which strikes a note afterwards repeated and prolonged in the last issue of the Legende des Siecles, full of mystery and mourning and fear and faith: the brief deep note of bewildered sorrow that succeeds it: the great wild vision of death and night, cast into words which have the very sound of wind and storm and water, the very shape and likeness of things actually touched or seen: the soft and sublime song of dawn, as it rises on the thinker deep sunk in meditation on death and on life to come: the strange dialogue underground, grim and sweet, between the corpse and the rosetree: the song of exile in May, sweet as flowers and bitter as tears: the lofty poem of suffering which rejects the old Roman refuge of stoic suicide: the light swift song of a lover's quarrel between the earth and the sun in wintertime: the unspeakably sweet song of the daisy that smiles at coming death: the most pathetic and heroic song of all, the cry of exile towards the graves of the beloved over sea, that weeps and is not weary: the simple and sublime verses on the mountain desolation to which truth and conscience were the guides: the four magnificent studies of sea and land, Promenades dans les rochers: the admirable verses on that holy mystery of terror perceptible in the most glorious 310 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. works alike of nature and of poetry: all these and more are fitly wound up by the noble hymn on planting the oak of the United States of Europe in the garden of the house of exile. The epic book is the most tragic and terrible of all existing poems of its kind; if indeed we may say that it properly belongs to any kind existing before its advent. The growing horror of the gradual vision of history, from Henri the Fourth to his bloody and gloomy son, from Louis the Thirteenth to the murderer and hangman of the Palatinate and the Cevennes, from Louis the Fourteenth to the inexpressible pollution of incarnate ignominy in his grandson, seems to heave and swell as a sea towards the coming thunder which was to break above the severed head of his miserable son. And next year came Torquemada: one of the greatest masterpieces of the master poet of our century. The construction of this tragedy is absolutely original and unique: free and full of change as the wildest and loosest and roughest of dramatic structures ever flung together, and left to crumble or cohere at the pleasure of accident or of luck, by the rudest of primaeval playwrights: but perfect in harmonious unity of spirit, in symmetry or symphony of part with part, as the most finished and flawless creation of Sophocles or of Phidias. Between some of the characters in this play and some of those in previous plays of Hugo's there is a certain resemblance as of kinship, but no touch or shadow of mere repetition or reproduction from types which had been used before: Ferdinand the Catholic has something in his lineaments of Louis the Just, and Gucho of L'Angely in Marion de Lorme: the marquis of Fuentel has a touch of Gunich in Les deux trouvailles de Gallus, redeemed by a better touch of human tenderness for his recovered grandson. The young lovers are two of the loveliest figure, Torquemada is one of the sublimest, in all the illimitable world of dramatic imagination. The intensity of interest, anxiety, and terror, which grows by such rapid and subtle stages of development up to the thunderstroke of royal decision at the close of the first act, is exchanged in the second for an even deeper and higher kind of emotion. The confrontation of the hermit with the inquisitor, magnificent enough already in its singleness of effect, is at once transfigured and completed by the apparition of the tremendous figure whose very name is tragedy, whose very shadow sufficed for the central and the crowning terror which darkened the stage of Lucrece Borgia. The third act revives again the more immediate and personal interest of the drama. Terror and pity never rose higher, never found utterance more sublime and piercing, in any work of any poet in the world, than here in the scene of the supplication of the Jews, and the ensuing scene of the triumph of Torquemada. The rapture of the terrible redeemer, whose faith is in salvation by fire, is rendered into words of such magical and magnificent inspiration that the conscience of 1885 THE WORK OF VICTOR HUGO. 311 our fancy is wellnigh conquered and convinced and converted for the moment as we read. The last act would indeed be too cruel for endurance if it were not too beautiful for blame. But not the inquisition itself was more inevitably inexorable than is the spiritual law, the unalterable and immitigable instinct, of tragic poetry at its highest. Dante could not redeem Francesca, Shakespeare could not rescue Cordelia. To none of us, we must think, can the children of a great poet's divine imagination seem dearer or more deserving of mercy than they seemed to their creator: but when poetry demands their immolation, they must die, that they may live for ever. Once more, but now for the last time, the world was to receive yet another gift from the living hand of the greatest man it had seen since Shakespeare. Towards the close of his eighty-second year he bestowed on us the crowning volume of his crowning work, the imperishable and inappreciable Legende des Siecles. And at the age of eighty-three years, two months, and twenty-six days, he entered into rest for ever, and into glory which can perish only with the memory of all things memorable among all races and nations of mankind. I have spoken here—and no man can know so well or feel so deeply as myself with what imperfection of utterance and inadequacy of insight I have spoken—of Victor Hugo as the whole world knew and as all honourable or intelligent men regarded and revered him. But there are those among his friends and mine who would have a right to wonder if no word were here to be said of the unsolicited and unmerited kindness which first vouchsafed to take notice of a crude and puerile attempt to render some tribute of thanks for the gifts of his genius just twenty-three years ago; of the kindness which was always but too ready to recognize and requite a gratitude which had no claim on him but that of a very perfect loyalty; of the kindness which many years afterwards received me as a guest under his rooftree with the welcome of a father to a son. Such matters, if touched on at all, unquestionably should not be dwelt on in public: but to give them no word whatever of acknowledgment at parting would show rather unthankfulness than reserve in one who was honoured so far above all possible hope or merit by the paternal goodness of Victor Hugo. ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.312 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. THE RECENT REBELLION IN NORTH-WEST CANADA. THE Rebellion in the North-West Territories would appear to have aroused little interest in England. Telegrams published in the London newspapers have been meagre and incorrect, and owing their origin generally to American sources, have been frequently misleading. All eyes at home have been fixed on the more stirring events in the Soudan or in the probabilities of war in Afghanistan, while the campaign in the Far West, undertaken at a day's warning, and brilliantly brought to a close in a few weeks, has passed by almost unnoticed. Having, by General Middleton's request, accompanied him to the front as chief of the staff, I may be able to furnish some account of his operations in the Saskatchewan which may not be without interest. To understand them let us glance back at the events of fifteen years ago, and at the Red River Rebellion of 1870. Louis Riel, a French Canadian half-breed, through the influence of Archbishop Tache was educated for the Roman Catholic Church. Riel first came into notice in the autumn of 1869 when, on the transfer of Prince Rupert's Land from the Hudson's Bay Company to the Government of the Dominion, he espoused the cause of the French half-breeds, or Metis, as they are called, and published a Bill of Rights, his chief assumption being that the Hudson's Bay Company had no legal power to hand over land, the property of Metis and Indians, to the Dominion Government without their formal consent. With some 400 'breeds' he established himself at Fort Garry, a Hudson's Bay post at the junction of the Red River and Assiniboine. He there proclaimed a provisional government, one of the first acts of which was the execution, or rather the cold-blooded murder, after a mock trial, of Scott, a settler who had dared to resist his authority. An expedition, consisting of a mixed force of British and Canadian troops, in all about 1,200 men, was organised for the suppression of the revolt, and during the spring and summer of 1870 Colonel Wolseley, with his birch bark canoes and voyageurs, was pushing up the rapids and over the portages of the Shebaudowan, and threading his way through Rainy Lake and Lake of the Woods, and with him McNeill, Redvers Buller, and The Nineteenth Century Aug. 1885. To face page 312. Spottiswoode & Co. Lith. London.1885 THE RECENT REBELLION IN CANADA. 313 Butler were sowing the seed of future laurels. Wolseley reached Fort Garry in August without firing a shot. The gates of the old fort stood open. Riel had fled to the States. He was tried for his life, and outlawed for five years. Fort Garry, the palisaded Hudson's Bay post of 1870, is now the important city of Winnipeg; the three months from Toronto to the Red River by boat and canoe are now five days, in the luxurious carriages of the Canada Pacific Railway; and Riel's rebellion of 1885 has taken place 500 miles beyond the Fort Garry of 1870, where the Iroquois and the Voyageurs of the St. Lawrence and Upper Ottawa have faithfully stood by their chief on the rapids of the Nile. By the Manitoba Act of 1870 the claims of the Red River Metis were justly recognised. Each half-breed born in the province before the 1st of July 1870 received a grant of 240 acres of land in satisfaction of his half-breed title. Nevertheless, many of them fell back before the intrusion of the Dominion officials, and sought homes still further north, amongst their near relatives the Crees, beyond the Great Salt Plains on the banks of the Saskatchewan - they wished to be let alone. Now their bugbear, the red tape of civilisation, has again surrounded them, and the wilds of the North-West have given birth to the provinces of Saskatchewan, Assinaboia, and Athabasca, and these Metis and their descendants are again accused of rebellion. But besides the Manitoba 'breeds' many whites moved northwards. The line of the Canada Pacific Railway, as originally proposed, lay far north of that which it now pursues, and in anticipation of the northern route, white adventurers, speculating on the prospect of future fortunes to be picked up along the line of railway, settled at Prince Albert, Battleford, and Edmonton. When the route was changed they found themselves en l'air, and have remained to sow discontent, and to spread sedition, should opportunity offer, against the common enemy, the Dominion Government. Riel having long since completed his sentence of banishment was quite within the law when he made his appearance in the North-West during the summer of 1884; and though his arrival there was jealously watched at Ottawa, he was believed to have learned wisdom during his sojourn in the States, and no harm was expected from his visit. At Ottawa the winter passed without a whisper of uneasiness, and it was not till late in March that, almost without warning, we found ourselves face to face with an organised rebellion. The Metis of the North-West claim to be placed on the same footing as the Manitoba half-breeds, viz. to receive grants of 240 acres. They ask that patents for their land should be issued to settlers in possession, and they protest against the form of Government land- surveying, as likely to interfere with the arrangement of their farms 314 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. as at present existing. According to the old French custom, the Metis settlements line the river-banks, each farm having a small river frontage, and extending in a narrow strip a considerable distance inland. It is asserted that should the Government method of surveying in squares and giving grants in squares be insisted on, the river frontages will in many cases disappear from certain farms, and that at any rate much unnecessary annoyance would be caused by a new division of the settlements. The Metis say that it is now some ten years since they first put forward their claims, an that they have continued ever since to agitate in vain. In September 1884 a meeting was held at their settlement of St. Laurent, on the Saskatchewan, and the following Bill of Rights agreed upon :— 1. The subdivision into provinces of the North-West. 2. The half-breeds to receive the same grants and other advantages as the Manitoba half-breeds. 3. Patents to be issued at once to the settlers in possession. 4. The sale of half a million acres of Dominion lands, the proceeds to be applied to the establishment in the half-breed settlements of schools, hospitals, and similar institutions, and to the equipment of the poorer half-breeds with seed-grain and implements. 5. The reservation of a hundred townships of swamp land for distribution among the children of half-breeds during the next 120 years. 6. A grant of at least $1,000 a year for the maintenance of our institutions, to be conducted by the nuns in each half-breed settlement. 7. Better provision for the support of the Indians. The purely half-breed dispute practically rested on three points, viz. the grant of patents for land already in possession, equal claims with Manitoba 'breeds,' and objections to Government form of survey. But there is also a feeling in the North-West, not at all confined to Metis, that local claims and interests are not understood or sufficiently recognised at distant Ottawa ; and the feeling would have been more universally pronounced had not the first shot fired at Duck Lake at once alienated the loyal settlers from the Metis cause. To these claims and assertions Ottawa answers that a commission had already been appointed to inquire into half-breed claims, that it was in power of any half-breed legally entitled to obtain a patent for his farm by following the ordinary legal process, that the claims put forward for the Manitoba settlement are made by the very men who were already settled with in 1870, and that the Government form of survey can and will be, if required, so arranged as not in any way to interfere with the river frontages and farms—in fact, that 'the breeds' have no case at all. Now that the rebellion has been brought to a close, we may be able to look behind the scenes, and to account for the cause which led to the final outbreak. We shall probably discover much white sedition. 1885 THE RECENT REBELLION IN CANADA. 315 We shall see that Riel and Gabriel Dumont were not counting only on their half-breed and Redskin rifles, but on the support of white men, who they had been gulled into believing would stand by them. Riel put his fighting men in his first line, but in his second line we may perhaps find the disappointed white contractor, the disappointed white land shark, the disappointed white farmer. There have been much bigger interests at stake than Metis claims. Warnings of the coming storm, if given, had been underrated, when news arrived in Ottawa on March the 22nd, that Riel had seized the mail-bags near Duck Lake, and that the telegraph wire was cut between Prince Albert and Clarke's Crossing. Prince Albert is a white settlement on the North Saskatchewan, not far above its junction with its southern branch, and is 279 miles from the nearest point in the Canada Pacific Railway. Between the two branches of the river is the reserve of the Cree chief 'Beardy,' and along the south branch are the Metis settlements of St. Laurent and St. Antoine de Padua, while to the south again is the reserve of 'One Arrow.' There is mounted police post at Prince Albert, and also at Fort Carlton, forty-two miles higher up the river. At Duck Lake, close to Fort Carlton and between the two branches of the Saskatchewan, Riel first showed his hand. It was any anxious time, for, in all this great North-West territory, reaching from the frontier of Manitoba to the Rockies, and stretching far away north into the little know prairie land of Athabasca and Peace River, there was no one to give a hand to the women and children dotted down along the river-bands, save 500 mounted police, scattered in small detachments over a country in which was a population of over 30,000 Indians. The bad news reached Ottawa on the 22nd of March. On the 23rd General Middleton started for Winnipeg and the North-West. At that time not a shot had been fired, and it was hoped that with a display of force the rising might still be quelled without bloodshed ; but on the 28th came the news of a fight between a detachment of mounted police under Major Crozier and a band of rebels under Riel, in which some police and eleven volunteers from Prince Albert were killed, and Major Crozier forced to retire to Fort Carlton. He had left the fort in the morning with about 100 men to secure some stores in the neighbourhood of Duck Lake. He was met by Reil at the head of a small band of rebels. There was some hasty conversation between the leaders on either side, a squabble and then a shot. Who fired first is doubtful, but and encounter ensued, in which Major Crozier was partially surrounded, and fell back to Fort Carlton, leaving his dead on the field. The same day Colonel Irvine, 1 with 100 mounted police, joined him at the Fort. Putting aside the loss of life the affair was unfortunate, as the actual collision would appear to have been avoid- 1 Colonel Irvine commands the North-West Mounted Police.316 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. able, or at any rate could have been postponed till after the junction of the two forces. The mounted police burned their fort at Carlton, and retired to Prince Albert, where they remained till General Middleton's arrival, after Riel's defeat at Batoches. With Riel's success at Duck Lake, the white settlements of the Saskatchewan and Battle River, Prince Albert, Battleford, and Edmondton were immediately threatened with half-breed and Indian risings. It was for the relief of these distant settlements that Genera Middleton had to provide. Before attempting to describe the military operations which followed on General Middleton's departure from Ottawa, it may be as well to consider the connection between the half-breed rebellion and the Indian fights which resulted from it. Riel took up arms for the Metis cause, nominally so at any rate. Though a miserable creature himself, he named his price, and could have been bought out of the country in the autumn of last year. But he posed as a Metis patriot - the Indians were not directly interested in the rebellion - and 'Poundmaker' and 'Big Bear' would appear only to have followed the instincts of their race, when seeing, as they thought, Riel successful, they were tempted by the love of fighting and the love of plunder, and in many cases by the necessity of getting something to eat, to commit depredations for which no doubt they must be severely punished. Riel well knew the assistance which the Indians could afford him, and by at once driving in all the settlers' cattle, he could bribe them with food, and they could hardly be expected to resist the temptation. And yet it is doubtful if he had more than 250 armed Indians with him at Batoches. 'Poundmaker' and 'Big Bear,' urged on by Riel's emissaries, rose at Battleford and Fort Pitt. Robbery, murder, and perhaps a few atrocities they have committed, but grave as the danger was, Canada has escaped the horrors of an Indian war. The great nation of the Blackfeet, the Bloods, and the Piegans, have stood by her loyally in her trouble, while their hereditary enemies the Crees, closely allied by marriage to the Metis, have only partially joined the rebel cause. With 500 mounted police and without a single soldier Canada has ruled from Lake Winnipeg to the frontiers of British Columbia, and she may well be proud that during the tenure of the North-West territories previous to the rebellion of this summer, she had not lost a life in Indian warfare. The haters of the Red Man should remember that he has a strong case against the White. He sees his hunting-grounds surveyed and broken up, and now the backbone of his existence, the buffalo, has vanished. In 1883, 150,000 buffalo robes were sold in St. Paul, and in 1884, 300. In Canada the buffalo has disappeared, and the Red Man, confined to his reserve, is mainly dependent for subsistence on the honesty of the Indian agencies, while they are not held blameless 1885 THE RECENT REBELLION IN CANADA. 317 for the events of the last three months. Granted that, half-starved, the Red Man cannot attain to the Fennimore Cooper standard, granted that his race is doomed, he still exists, and was once the ruler of the soil. 'The best Indian is a dead one,' is an ignoble sentiment for a conquering race. We may congratulate ourselves that there has been no general Indian rising, and that with the defeat of Riel the Indian disturbance collapsed. On the 1st of April I joined General Middleton at Qu'appelle, a station on the Canada Pacific Railway. We had with us the 90th Battalion from Winnipeg, the Winnipeg Field Battery, and two nine- pounder guns, and twenty-nine mounted scouts recruited from the settlers in the neighbourhood - in all about three hundred and eighty men. The Indian Reserves far and near were in a simmer of expectation, 'sitting on the fence,' as the Canadian says. Panic was spreading amongst the white settlements. Telegrams poured in hourly to the General, imploring help or arms. News arrived of murders by Indians at Battleford, while between us and Riel was two hundred and fifty miles of prairie. A blow must be dealt at him at once before the further spread of the rebellion. Troops must also be sent to succour Battleford and to reassure Edmonton. Let us consider the military resources at the disposal of the Dominion authorities, and the distances over which troops would require to move. Canada's Army consists of a militia force of 36,000 men, not including the Reserve Militia. The force is sometimes spoken of as volunteers, sometimes as militia, but there is in reality no such difference. The force is essentially a volunteer force, composed of civilians from the towns and country, those raised in the former being called 'city corps,' and in the latter 'rural corps.' The amount of drill required by the Militia Act for each man is about sixteen days in two years. Many of the rural corps are not called out annually, and do no more drill than that required of them, while the city corps resemble much the volunteer corps of our large towns at home, and drill annually as arranged by their commanding officers. The men receive 50 cents = 2s. a day for authorised drill. They are armed with the Snider rifle. In addition to her militia, Canada possesses a regular force enlisted as soldiers, and distributed in schools throughout the different provinces for purposes of instruction, and composed as follows: - Two schools of artillery, one at Quebec, one at Kingston, each possessing two field guns (9-pr. R.M.L.); a cavalry school at Point Lewis, Quebec; and three infantry schools, viz., at Toronto St. John's, P.Q., and Fredericton, New Brunswick. The total strength of all schools combined cannot, by the Militia Act, exceed 750 men. At the outbreak of the rebellion, with the exception of the 90th (Winnipeg) Battalion and a Field Battery (two guns) from Winnipeg, all318 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. troops would be required to move up from Lower Canada. The Canada Pacific Railway was not entirely completely along the north shore of Lake Superior, there were breaks of seventy or eighty miles over which troops would have to march or to be conveyed by sleigh. With that exception there was railway communication from Quebec to the Rocky Mountains. The distance from Ottawa to Winnipeg is, by the Canadian Pacific Railway, 1,312 miles. From Winnipeg to Calgarry 800 miles. Troops would require to leave the railway at certain stations between Winnipeg and Calgarry, and march across the prairie to the threatened points - Prince Albert, Battleford, and Edmonton. The stations selected were: Calgarry, for the Edmonton column, Swift Current, for the Battleford column, [*2*] and Qu'appelle Station, for the Prince Albert column. To General Strange (late R.A.) was given the command of the troops at Calgarry, Lieutenant- Colonel Otter commanded the Battleford column, and General Middleton accompanied the troops intended to attack Riel, with a general command of the whole force in the field. I intend only to follow the movements of General Middleton's column. The time of year was the most unpleasant for campaigning, the winter was just breaking up, snow was still on the ground, but was rapidly becoming slush, and we feared that with each succeeding day the trails would become more difficult. It was evident that we should draw no supplies from the country through which we had to march. We should pass no settlements of any importance, and though the snow would soon be gone, there would as yet be no grass for our horses. We should have to carry everything - men's rations, hay and corn. Army transport did not exist, and the General was at once thrown upon his own resources as to the arrangements for feeding the troops about to take the field. Providentially, there existed in the North-West a ready-made transport and supply office. The Hudson's Bay Company knew the country and its customs, and where to obtain what was required. The Company agreed to furnish transport and supplies, the detailed arrangements being left with the officers of the expedition selected by the General. To the Hudson's Bay Company, and to the untiring zeal and the organisation of Captain Bedson, General Middleton's chief transport officer, a large share of the success of the expedition is due. Our transport consisted of light four-wheeled wagons, carrying about one and a half tons, with two horses - the horses, as a rule, being excellent. The Bell Farm (a farm of 60,000 acres, and one of the great agricultural speculations of the North West) itself supplied sixty teams. At the commencement of the campaign we paid $10 a day per team, but latterly the price was somewhat reduced. Towards the end of the campaign we had in General Middleton's line of communications [*2 From Calgary to Edmonton is a march of 194 miles. From Swift Current to Battleford is a march of 200 miles.*] 1885 THE RECENT REBELLION IN CANADA. 319 745 teams, [*3*] working in perfect order, in connection with a system of depots. On the 2nd of April General Middleton left Qu'appelle Station, and marched nineteen miles to Fort Qu'appelle, a Hudson's Bay post. He halted there till the 6th, the time being fully occupied in rifle practice and general instruction of our small force, and in organisation of transport. On the 6th we commenced our march in earnest. The country is not difficult for troops. Rolling prairie land, covered here and there more or less thickly with poplar 'bluffs,' [*4*] it resembles much an English park. Engineered roads there are none, but there are few bad gradients, and few watercourses; and luckily for us the frost was still deep enough in the ground to give good bottom to what might later in the season have proved awkward quagmires. Though the season was breaking, the cold was intense. Our tent-pegs froze fast in the ground, and we had to cut them out on striking camp. Our boots froze to the stirrup-irons. There was a perpetual high wind, rain, and occasional 'blizzard.'[*5*] But the troops trudged on constantly, doing twenty miles a day. At night we formed our wagons into a 'corrale,' after the American fashion, wheel to wheel and poles inwards, with the teamsters, tents, and horses inside the circle - the camp outside the 'corrale.' Firewood and water were generally to be found in abundance. On the 13th we arrived at Humboldt. Halted the 14th, marched again the 15th. The General was anxious to secure Clarke's Crossing on the Saskatchewan as soon as possible. He hoped to be able to utilise the river as a line of communication, and the Crossing as an advanced post was therefore important. It was also on the telegraph line between Battleford and Humboldt. We had followed the wire since leaving Qu'appelle, and by tapping it were generally in communication with Battleford and Ottawa. We arrived at Clarke's Crossing on the 17th, having marched 177 miles in twelve days, or nearly fifteen miles a day including halts, and nearly eighteen miles a day exclusive of halts. We found there a small white settlement, capable of affording us a few supplies at extravagant prices, a telegraph station, and two ferry boats or 'scows.' The Saskatchewan is here about 300 yards across a muddy rapid river, with steep banks some 150 feet high, deep mud and shingle to the water's edge, strewn with high masses of ice left there by the spring freshets. At the Crossing and on the march there we were overtaken by A Battery from Quebec, with two guns (9 pr. R.M.L.), the 10th Grenadiers from Toronto, and Bolton's Mounted Infantry. [* 3 A team means a pair of horses. 4 'Bluff' is the North-West term for a wood. 'Heavy bluff' means thick wood. 5 A snowstorm with high wind.*] 320 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. The force destined to attack Riel's position was now complete, and was composed as follows :— All ranks A Battery (Quebec), 2 9-pr. R.M.L. guns ... 111 C Company, Infantry School (Toronto) ... 45 10th Grenadiers (Toronto) ... 267 90th (Winnipeg) ... 314 Irregular Corps raised from {Boltons' Mounted Infantry .. 70 settlers 6 {French's Mounted Infantry ..29 Total...836 Our line of communications was almost unguarded. We had been unable to spare troops to look after the Indian reserves at Touchwood and the File Hills. Our convoys arrived daily without escort, and we had to hope that the show of force might overawe the country we had left behind us. Our information was invariably bad. We found more certainly every day that reports as to the nature of the country were quite unreliable ; our maps were faulty, and the hugeness of the country would seem to have eliminated from the settler's mind all power of estimating distances, while it has strangely developed his faculty of imagination. The incorrectness of the detailed information we got from time to time from persons who should have been well informed was maddening. It was, however, evident that Riel had left the neighbourhood of Duck Lake, and had established himself on the east side of the Saskatchewan at Batoches Ferry. We were told that the main body of the 'breeds' were there. and that they had strengthened their position with rifle-pits. The Indian portion of Riel's force were reported on the west side of the Saskatchewan, opposite Batoches. As there was a good ferry at that place, he would have no difficulty in moving to whatever side he pleased. 'Beardy' and 'One Arrow,' the Cree chiefs, had joined him, and also the 'Whitecap' Sioux from Saskatoon. He was reported to have with him about 500 men, badly armed, half of whom were Indians, and the other half French half-breeds. He had established a provisional government, with a council at Batoches, and had put the direction of military matters into the hands of Gabriel Dumont, a well-known buffalo hunter and crack rifle shot. From Clarke's Crossing to Batoches is thirty-three miles. The trail along the east bank was reported clear of wood to Gabriel's Crossing (twenty-eight miles), after which it was said to enter think bush, and to be very dangerous. The trail along the west bank passed through and open country to nearly opposite Batochers, where it also entered the bush. The General decided to divide his force and to advance by the trails on both sides of the river. Riel would then, if defeated on either side, be unable to make good his retreat by crossing the river. We also intercepted his line of retreat of the States, while if he 6 Both these corps were called the Scouts. 1885 THE RECENT REBELLION IN CANADA. 321 attempted to go north he must run the gauntlet of Colonel Irvine's scouts from Prince Albert. On the 18th, Bolton's Mounted Infantry reconnoitred the trail on the east bank. The day was stormy, snowing hard, but we succeeded in taking three Sioux Indians of Whitecap's band. who proved to be two sons of the chief and his son-in-law. On the 22nd, French's scouts went out on the west side of the river, and again came on Riel's scouts, and exchanged a few shots. By the evening of the 23rd we had, with much labour, by means of a roughly contrived ferry, succeeded in passing over to the opposite bank the troops to form the western column. Our force was pretty equally divided. Lieut.-Colonel Montizambert of the Canadian Artillery commanded the Western Force, consisting of the 10th Grenadiers, the Winnipeg Field Battery and two guns, a detachment from A Battery, and fifty mounted men of the Irregular Corps. The General remained on the east bank, and had with him the 90th A Battery and two guns, forty men of the Infantry School, and fifty of Botlon's Mounted Infantry ; each column was about 400 strong. I accompanied the Western Force. The scow 7 had orders to follow us down the river, taking with it a small boat, in case we wished to communicate. On the morning of the 23rd both columns, withing sight of each other, commenced their march down the river. The weather was getting warmer, and the prairie was already dotted with flowers. In the evening we camped opposite each other, the General's force at a small settlement called Mackintosh's Farm. As Colonel Montizambert's column was very short of hay and corn I crossed the river early on the 24th, and arranged for some to be send over to us by means of the scow, and after breakfasting with the General returned to the western bank. I had hardly got into camp when our scouts reported firing on the bank I had just left. We soon distinctly heard the rattle of musketry and the firing of Middleton's guns, and following the sound moved down the river bank. But the bush was thick, and we had to guard against attack ourselvers. The smoke from the guns was clearly visible, and soon a mounted man came down to the opposite bank and called over to us to come across. The river was broad and rapid, fording it was out of the question ; and the scow was some distance behind us waiting to load with hay. We at last got her down, and picking our way through the ice boulders I crossed with one company of the 10th Grenadiers and some scouts, forced our way through the thick wood and up the steep bank on the opposite side, and joined the General about 1 P.M. After a hard tussle he had beaten back a rebel attack, and was doing his best to force them from their rifle pits in a deep ravine, called Fish Creek. He had been attacked soon after striking his camp at 7 A large flat-bottomed boat. VOL. XVIII.—No. 102.Mackintosh's Farm. Bolton's Mounted Infantry, pushed well to the front, had been suddenly fired on. The trail crosses Fish Creek, and it was probably the rebel intention that his column should descend in to the Creek before it was attacked; but our scouts, in extended order, probably not liking to allow men to pass his flanks, fired too soon and let the cat out of the bag. The General had time to get up his infantry and guns, and though attacked on both his flanks, he drove them back. But immediately to his front, in a deep hollow of the wooded ravine, were rifle pits commanding the trail, and from these rebels never budged. Our men lined the crest of the ravine, and fired in to the pits. We sent out two nine-pounders across, and took them in reverse with case shot, but in vain. And all day long almost entirely concealed the rebels picked off our men. The General was shot through his fur cap. Both his aides-de-camp were wounded, and having two horses shot under him. And my orderly's horse was shot. Evening was coming on, and we had lost heavily. The General decided that to rush the pits would entail a heavy loss of life, which the advantage gained would not in any way repay. And he decided to pitch his camp. We chose a place half a mile from the Creek, near the Saskatchewan, on a fine open piece of prairie. Two more companies of the 10th Grenadiers and the Winnipeg Field Battery had joined us late in the afternoon; but all the transport of the western column was still on the other side of the river, and with it were only fifty scouts and on company of the 10th. Night came on with pelting rain. None of us are likely to forget the dark wet night of the 24th close to the deep ravine, still holding, for all we knew, a concealed enemy, and with us nothing but raw troops, totally unaccustomed to night work, and hampered by wounded men, or the bright moonlight and the false alarm of the 26th, when Darcy Baker, of the Scouts, lying badly wounded, sprang up, called for his rifle and his horse, and fell back dead. We thought he had come out for a picnic, and it was impossible to help feeling that war's hardships are doubly cruel to the civilian soldier. On the 25th we did nothing. We wanted breathing time. On the 26th a strong party went to the scene of the fight, and recovered two of our men whom we had left dead. They were not scalped, and had not been touched. We found two dead Indians, and fifty-five dead or dying rebel ponies. The enemy had evidently left the neighbourhood. Our own loss was ten killed or died of wounds, and forty-seven wounded, out of about four hundred men engaged. The rebel loss, as subsequently ascertained, was, I believe, six killed and about fifteen or sixteen wounded. The main body of their whole force had probably been brought against us. Late in the afternoon our half-breed interpreter Peter Houri had called over the edge of the ravine to the men in the pits, 'Is Gabriel Dumont there?' Answer 'Yes.' 'Are there many of you there?' 'There are plenty of us left.' 'Will you have a talk with me?' No answer. We believed that the rebels were fighting on the orders of Gabriel Dumont, but that Riel himself was not present. The Metis had met us on their frontier. Fish Creek is the boundary of the half-breed settlement, St. Antoine de Padua. We halted at Fish Creek till the 7th of May, hoping daily for the arrival of the steamer 'Northcote' from Swift Current with men and supplies; but the Saskatchewan played us very false, and owing to shallow water and sand banks there was tantalising delay. We made frequent reconnaisances with our mounted scouts, and found that the country was deserted to below Gabriel's Crossing, some ten miles from our camp. All along the river banks we found comfortable farmhouses, whose Metis owners had fled. On the 5th of May the 'Northcote' arrived, bringing a large quantity of ammunition and supplies, two companies of the Midland Battalion under Colonel Williams, and a Gatling gun, with Captain Howard, and American officer who had been sent with it from the Gatling factory at St. Paul, to explain its working. Lieut. Colonel Van Straubenzee also came in the 'Northcote', and assumed command of the infantry of the force. After Fish Creek the General decided to reunite his forces, and the column on the west bank rejoined him. On the 7th he struck his camp and marched to Gabriel's Crossing, some six miles from Batoches, and on the 8th left Gabriel's Crossing, and instead of keeping to the river trail marched straight away from the river till he reached the open prairie, and then turned to the left across country, picking his own line, till he struck the main trail from Humboldt to Batoches, some eight miles from that place, and pitched his camp on the open prairie just outside the bush. There would appear to be a belt of bush commencing near Fish Creek, and running parallel to the river for a breadth of some miles. We had avoided it so far, but now had to pass through it to reach Batoches. On the evening of the 8th we pushed the Mounted Infantry some five mile through the bush towards Batoches, putting to flight some rebel scouts, and returning to camp in the evening. On the morning of the 9th we marched to attack Batoches. We left our camp standing, and took with us every available man. The 'Northcote', with thirty-five men of C Company, had been told to drop down the river from Gabriel's Crossing, and be off Batoches at 8 A.M. on the 9th, so as to intercept Riel should he attempt to 8 We had been led to believe that by leaving the river bank we should avoid some dangerous bush, and by crossing the open prairie could arrive at a point in the open tolerably near Batoches. The information was not correct, and we camped on the evening of the 8th further than we expected from Batoches; but the bush through which we had to pass was probably not so dangerous as if we had continued by the river trail.324 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. cross the river. She was to get into action as soon as possible after 8 A.M., and to make any diversion she could in our favour. We hoped to attack on the land side at the same time. Reveille sounded at 4 A.M., and we marched between 5 A.M. and 6 A.M. on a lovely spring morning. ORDER OF MARCH. Bolton's Mounted Infantry extended with Mounted Infantry supports to extended men on both flanks. Main body of Bolton's Mounted Infantry. Gatling gun. Advanced guard 10th Grenadiers. 90th Battalion. A Battery : 2 9pr. R.M.L. guns. 2 Companies Midland Battalion. Winnipeg field battery : 2 9pr. R.M.L. guns. Ammunition wagons. Ambulance. French's Scouts. At 8 A.M. we hear the 'Northcote' whistling, and she soon commenced a sharp musketry fire. At the same time we struck the river bank, and found ourselves in more open ground, almost in what may be called the suburbs of the Batoches settlement. We got up our field guns, opened fire on the houses, and pushed on with a company of the 10th Grenadiers extended. The trail here runs close to the river bank, which is high and precipitous, covered with bush to the water's edge. We soon found ourselves on and open space in front of the Roman Catholic church and the priest's house, which was full of priests and nuns and half-breed women and children. From here you could see right into the settlement, which lay in a hollow below us, fringed with thick 'bluff'—Riel's council house in the centre of the hollow some eight hundred yards from us, On the other side of the river were the numerous 'tepees' 9 of an Indian camp. We opened fire on his council house. Two guns had been moved off the trail a few yards down the bank, which was not here so steep, in order to get a better range at the houses ; Howard, with his Gatling gun, was there too. A scout reported to me that he had been fired on from a rifle pit on our right front ; but we had met with little opposition, when suddenly there was a shrill war whoop of many voices under the muzzle of the right-hand gun. Unseen, the Crees had crept almost to the guns. There was a general hurried move to the open, when the rattle of the Gatling and a sudden cessation of the war whoops told that Howard had not moved. Between us and the settlement in the hollow was this belt of bush ; and all day long from it came a nasty galling fire, assisted by 9 Indian tents. 1885 THE RECENT REBELLION IN CANADA. 325 a dropping cross-fire from the opposite side of the river. In the afternoon the rebels set light to the bush in front of us, and a great cloud of smoke and fire moved down towards the church. We took our wounded from the church and placed them in wagons ready to move, for, hard pressed, we could not gain an inch. We had no supports ; things looked critical, and there was eight miles of bush between us and our camp. In the afternoon I was sent by the General to the telegraph station at Humboldt (sixty-five miles). How the little column gallantly forced its way into Batoches on the morning of the 11th is now a part of Canadian history. It lost, in the tree days' fighting. nine killed and thirty wounded—the rebel loss being fifty-one killed and one hundred and seventy-three wounded. 10 On the 15th Riel surrendered to Middleton's scouts. His chief lieutenant, Gabriel Dumont, escaped across the frontier. The rebellion was practically at an end. 'Poundmake' surrendered to General Middleton at Battleford on the 26th. General Strange had guaranteed the safety of Edmonton, and though the pursuit of 'Big Bear' gave the troops more hard work, all cause for anxiety had disappeared with Riel's defeat at Batoches. The trial of Riel at Regina will now bring to light the secret history of the rebellion. We shall learn what the intentions of the rebel leaders were had they been successful—did they mean to proclaim a Saskatchewan Republic, or had they any idea of asking for Imperial protection, or had they no plan at all? Riel, as a Metis, will probably say that in insurrection lay the only certainty of insuring attention to Metis wrongs, that he resisted the injustice of the Dominion Government and the Dominion police, but he may possibly assure us of his allegiance to the Queen, for amongst Indians 'the Queen,' the 'great mother.,' is venerated, and the Metis may share the same feeling. After Fish Creek a man of the 90th picked up a piece of paper, which he brought to me. The rebel leaders had feasted before the fight, and this was their programme for the evening : PROGRAMME. 1er, Souper. 2me. Dessert. 3me. La Santé de la Reine. 4me. La Santé de M. Louis Reil et l'adresse de M. Philippe Garnot.11 5me. La Santé des Dames. The Queen first, and the Louis Riel. It looks as if the rebels still claimed allegiance to their sovereign. We shall also learn how much bad times amongst the farming whites of the Saskatchewan may have influenced their sympathy with the 'Breeds.' 10 These numbers have no doubt since been officially corrected. 11 Riel's private secretary. 326 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. On the whole, the rebellion will do good. It will render necessary a searching inquiry into the system of government of the North- West, the system of Indian agencies, and the means to be employed for the future ruling of the country. Immigration may be checked for a year or two, but in future the immigrant will be safer than he has ever been before. Prince Albert and Battleford have no doubt suffered heavily, but settlers generally will have benefited by the visit of the troops, while the insurrection has united in one common cause all the Provinces of the Dominion; battalions from Manitoba, Ontario, the Maritime Provinces, and Quebec, have served side by side in the field; and while French Canadians may reasonably hope that their blood relations may have a fair trial, they have as loyally condemned the rebellion as the people of Ontario. The military experience gained will be valuable. When the campaign commenced the militia department knew nothing of the capabilities of its officers in the field, now many reputations have been made, and it will know in future what commanders it can rely on. The faults of the militia system have been brought into relief, and every good Canadian soldier must hope that the department which has done so well will seize the opportunity of disallowing, once for all, the unmilitary outside influences, which through custom have so often prevailed in purely military questions. It has been General Middleton's lot to command the first volunteer or civilian soldiers who have been in action. And most gallantly have men and officers done their work. The men of his force were almost universally of the same class as our English volunteers - clerks in offices, mechanics, tradesmen. They were not soldiers by trade. Excellent material. splendid marchers, apt to learn, possessed of much handiness and ingenuity, especially with the axe, but unaccustomed to the work required of them, and with no time allowed them to gain experience, they went straight from their homes into action. The risk of much loss of life in a force so composed is an exceptionally heavy risk for a commander to incur, and no man in General Middleton's column is likely to forget their chief's generous solicitude for the safety of his troops. An unseen enemy is always a trying one, especially for an inexperienced force. The Metis never showed themselves, but though good shots at short ranges, in other points they were contemptible. They never attacked a convoy, they never cut the wire behind us, and though Indians and 'Breeds' are born mounted infantry, who can shoot as well from their horses as on foot, they never harassed us on the march. Possibly the want of grass for their horses, owing to the earliness of the season, may account for this, but it would seem as if they intended only to defend their homes against invasion. At Fish Creek they met us on their frontier, at Batoches they fought us on their own doorstep. They were badly armed with a certain 1885 THE RECENT REBELLION IN CANADA. 327 number of repeating Winchester rifles, but many old smooth bores, they were short of ammunition, and it is doubtful if the force with Riel ever numbered 700 men, Indians and 'Breeds' combined. The prisoners they took they treated well, and they respected the dead. As a military achievement the success of the campaign has been brilliant. The Hon. Mr. Caron, Minister of Militia, may justly be proud of the department which between the 23rd of March and the 20th of May placed 4,419 men in the field, the whole of which force, with the exception of the Winnipeg Corps and the irregular mounted troops, were sent from Lower Canada. A complete system of transport for three columns marching at great distances from each other had to be organised; and six weeks after General Middleton's departure from Fort Qu'appelle, Riel had been brought a prisoner into his camp. From Ottawa to Qu'appelle is 1,635 miles. From Qu'appelle to Batoches is a march of 243 miles. Lord Wolseley left Toronto on the 21st of May, 1870, and arrived at Fort Garry on the 24th of August, three months. In 1885 the last troops ordered out left Montreal for the front on the 11th of May, and arrived at Winnpeg on the 20th of May, nine days. So much has fifteen years of civilisation and a railway done for Canada. MELGUND. 328 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. THE LONDON FLOWER TRADE. ONE of the most interesting sights in London is reserved for the delectation of the few who are sufficiently energetic to sally forth at the early hour of 5 A.M. on a spring morning, and wend their way to the wholesale flower market at Covent Garden. The process is disagreeable, the route unpleasant; no brilliant shop windows, no throng on business or pleasure bent, serve to conceal the innate ugliness of the streets; scavengers, sweeps, cats, coals, and costermongers appear as a new and hideous revelation to the denizen of a decent Pall Mall who ventures upon a promenade a pied so long before his due season. But once arrived, once admitted to those balmy precincts--misnamed Mudsalad Market by mortals of a later, lazier hour, but then how fragrant, how delicious!--who will deny that the end justifies the means, or that the scene before him affords ample recompense for the hardships of the way? A casual visitor is immediately struck with the contrast between a shrewd, anxious crowd, through which he can hardly elbow his way, and the simple beauty of the wares displayed amid such incongruous surroundings. What a motley crowd it is! men and women, buyers and sellers, wholesale and retail, salesmen, shopkeepers, gardeners, flower girls, and porters, all shouting, pushing, and haggling for the fragile merchandise, handling it with as little care apparently as if made of iron, yet gently withal, so as to leave never a bruise upon the most delicate blossoms. The flowers are not exposed for sale as in a shop window; any elaborate display is rendered impossible by the shortness of the time allotted and the narrow limits of space assigned to the stall-keepers, while difficulties arising from diversity of opinion as to meum et tuum are best avoided by leaving everything in baskets with lids closed and jealousy watched contents. The buyers, however, like hungry fish, need little tempting; they mean business, they know exactly what they want and where to look for it. Long experience has taught them whose bloom is the finest, whose bunches contain the best value for money, so that the stalls of some famous grower are often emptied before others, less favoured, have disposed of a moiety of their produce. 1885 THE LONDON FLOWER TRADE. 329 The variety and profusion are amazing: it seems incredible that purchasers can be found for the thousands and tens of thousands of choice hot-house flowers--eucharis, gardenias, tuberoses, and a host of others--which must all change hands before nine o'clock, the hour for closing the market. In late spring especially the bulk of bloom is enormous, and yet, as a rule, very little remains unsold; for the perishable nature of their product compels growers to sell at almost any price that is offered rather than have it left upon their hands. Occasionally, however, an overwhelming glut takes place; and then it is no uncommon thing to meet clergymen and sisters of mercy returning from the market loaded with free gifts of flowers to deck their hospital wards or gladden the eyes of weary sufferers in dark East End courts and alleys. Every morning in summer from five to nine o'clock, and three times a week in winter, the market is open, and furnished with an apparently inexhaustible supply of flowers, brought up during the night in vans from nurseries ten or twelve miles distant. The industry is really much more extensive than is supposed; indeed, if, in addition to flowers, fruit and vegetables be taken into account, the money annually turned over in Covent Garden would reach such a figure as to compare favourably with many more conspicuous and popular branches of commerce. But market gardening still remains a sealed book, while the world is being ransacked to find employment for the increasing host of young gentlemen in need of business openings. They become farmers, brewers, contractors, dealers in horses, cattle, and corn--in the colonies even shepherds and cow boys--but hitherto their attention has rarely if ever been directed to market gardening. The present writer, who struck out this line after leading the University, believes himself to be a solitary exception, and has failed to discover a single instance of a similar course being taken by others. It is hoped, therefore, that a plain, unvarnished account of a little-known business, resulting from nearly four years' practical experience, may prove useful to many who, with limited capital at their command, are idle because they have nothing to do, and may possibly be the means of suggesting a livelihood which, though far from couleur de rose, will certainly enable them to be more comfortable than cow boys. The cultivation of flowering plants and shrubs is the most attractive branch of an industry which, under the comprehensive title of horticulture, may be understood to include also the production of fruit and vegetables; in small establishments the three divisions are to a certain extent combined, but where things are done on a large scale exclusive attention is usually concentrated upon one class of products. A somewhat similar distinction is observed, in floriculture proper, between cultivation under glass and out of doors, so that the330 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. great plant nurseries, such as Cranston's at Hereford, Waterer's at Bagshot, and others of equal fame, are of comparatively little interest as regards the culture of tropical and sub-tropical flowering plants under glass. The establishments which make cut flowers a speciality are generally devoted to supplying the London market, and carry on a purely wholesale business, their gates being closed to the public as jealously as the doors of a cotton mill or iron foundry. Indeed, the public would find little to interest them in the survey of house after house filled with the same plants, arranged solely with a view to convenience, and displaying none of those artistic effects which dazzle the eye in the 'show house' of a general nurseryman. But genuine connoisseurs will find plenty to admire in the evidence of care and good treatment exhibited by each individual among the many thousands of specimens: a high standard of excellence is reached by all alike; there are not weedy ones pushed back out of sight, no prize winners to be grouped on the front stages. Where all are so good, the selection of a best would be impossible. Everything is sacrificed to utility, to obtaining the largest quantity of first-rate flowers with the least expense; to that end the position, size, and shape of the hot-houses are arranged: the heating apparatus in each is accurately calculated to produce the particular temperature best suited to its inmates; the tanks in every house, the low roofs and raised stages for bringing plants close to the light, the large panes of glass, fastened by copper clips to iron sash-bars to secure the maximum of sunshine in winter--everything you see has its purpose and makes some contribution to the sum-total of increased productiveness. Not a particle of ground is wasted: every vacant space is occupied by huge piles of flower pots and heaps of silver sand, tan, cocoa-nut fibre, peat, leaf mould, and manures of every unsavoury description. Not a field in the neighborhood is stripped of its turf but hundreds of tons are carted to the nursery, and stacked up in every odd corner, for few of the materials of production are so valuable as good fibrous loam from an old pasture. A glance into one or two of the 'houses' will manifest the expediency of bestowing so much care upon cultivation. Here are the gardenias, in all some fifty plants, or rather shrubs, for none are less than six or eight feet in diameter and of corresponding height; they are planted out in a house of noble dimensions, each on a raised bed of peat, which suits their luxuriant habit far better than the confinement of pots or tubs, however capacious. Surely it would be impossible to find more healthy and vigorous specimens! How stout their stems, how firm those long green shoots, clad with bright glossy leaves and terminating with swelling flower-buds in every stage of development! Morning after morning a thousand fresh 1885 THE LONDON FLOWER TRADE. 331 blossoms expand, shining forth like stars from the dark foliage, with a fragrance begotten of tropical climes. The rapidity with which the flowers are developed is most remarkable: it is a fact that sometimes, however exhaustive the morning picking may have been, it will be necessary to go over the same ground again twice, so as to secure a second and a third crop later in the day. Under the same roof as the gardenias, but separated by a glass partition, are tuberoses, of which about ten thousand are forced during the season. The available room is barely sufficient, so the pots have actually to touch one another, and every inferior specimen is promptly weeded out to make way for its successor, leaving a forest of perfectly strong healthy stems, crowned with clusters of sweet snow-white blossom. As with the gardenias so with tuberoses, stephanotis, roses, and the rest of the floral aristocracy: only very early in the morning, before the daily picking has commenced, or late in the evening, when fresh blossoms have begun to expand, can the plants be seen in their full glory. During the day all the wealth of the garden is concentrated in the packing-shed; everything is picked and brought thither as soon as possible after dawn, for if once the bloom flags beneath the sun heat it can hardly be revived in time for the morrow's market. Moreover, prolonged freshness is secured by standing the flowers in water for some hours before they are despatched. It is the greatest fallacy to suppose that any which have to be sent to a distance should be fresh picked from the plants; they will travel better and last longer if allowed to imbibe sufficient supply of moisture before starting on their journey. How often would the partial or total destruction of a welcome gift be avoided by the observance of this simple precaution, combined with a little knowledge as to the proper method of packing flowers for transit! Gentlemen's gardeners seem to forget the rough treatment impartially accorded to all kinds of freight by railway servants and carriers, and innocently imagine that enough has been done by inscribing the words 'With great care' upon the labels. Ah! if only they could see the condition in which the fragile goods reach their destination, what a lesson they might learn! Very different is the style of packing adopted by the market grower, who knows full well that his business depends in no small measure upon securing for his wares absolute immunity from damage, and has achieved such success that consignments of cut flowers, from the neighbourhood of London, are opened daily in Manchester, Glasgow, and Dublin without so much as a single petal having been bruised in transit. Another simple but useful 'trick of the trade' is the gumming process, applied to pelargoniums, azaleas, and all flowers of which the petals have a tendency to fall off. A single drop of gum is332 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. inserted with the end of a sharp-pointed stick into the centre of each calix, and by this means the conformity of the bloom may be preserved for two or three weeks. Although they bear no marks of the process, all the cut flowers and blooming plants of the kinds specified are thus treated before they are brought to market, the composition of the gum being such as to dry up and set immediately, becoming invisible even to the closest scrutiny. Necessarily devoid of artistic arrangement, a brilliant effect is nevertheless produced by the hundreds of varicoloured bunches which crowd the shelves of the packing-shed on a spring afternoon; and plentiful testimony is here afforded as to the enormous quantity of flowers grown, of which but a faint idea could be gathered from a walk through the hot-houses stripped of their finery. Whether the contemplation of so much beauty in his daily work exercises any influence upon the character of the horticulturist is a question which cannot be decisively answered from the evidence afforded by a single industry; but the fact, apparently undisputed, that the murky and debased atmosphere of certain occupations reacts with brutalising and degrading force upon the luckless person engaged in them, makes it not unreasonable to assume the converse, and expect to find, in a vineyard where all is so fair and bright and beautiful, labourers endowed with a more than ordinary amount of intelligence and refinement. However this may be, there is at any rate no body of artisans more conspicuous for sobriety, diligence, and a genuine desire for self-improvement than the majority of those employed in horticulture. In fact, one of the most attractive features of the business is to be found in having to deal with such a respectable staff of workmen, instead of the rough 'hands' who prove a constant source of annoyance and anxiety to their masters in many industries. From a strictly commercial standpoint, attention must be especially directed to the intense competition which prevails in this as in every other trade nowadays. The extraordinary retail prices which are asked and obtained by florists during the London season are of course no criterion of the grower's profits. With so perishable a stock in trade original cost bears no definite relation to the selling price; for instance, a profit of over 400 per cent. may frequently be made by the sale of gardenias at one shilling each which have cost half a crown the dozen. But when the immense loss from waste is added to the ordinary risks of business, it is doubtful whether the florist is, in the long run, as well off as neighbouring grocers or ironmongers, who can afford to price their goods only twenty per cent. above the wholesale quotation and wait contentedly for an opportunity to sell. The prices in Covent Garden, which regulate those of the whole kingdom, are very low indeed. The large growers, if left to themselves, might be trusted to maintain prices at a fairly 1885 THE LONDON FLOWER TRADE. 333 remunerative level; but the market is largely influenced by a body of small producers, men who are contented if they make a labourer's wage out of their one or two greenhouses, and are forced to sell at any knockdown price, in order to procure the bare necessaries of life, for which, being without other resources, they depend almost entirely upon the proceeds of each day's sale. This form of competition, however, cannot permanently reduce prices below the cost or production; but a far more serious blow is dealt at the prosperity of professional growers by the unprincipled trading habitual to gentlemen's gardeners in the neighbourhood of large towns. Immense ranges of glass have, at one time or another, been erected in the precincts of nearly all large country seats, either to gratify some old freak of fashion or the hobby of a former proprietor. Far in excess of the present owner's requirements, unless, as rarely happens, he is devoted to a scientific study of horticulture, they generally constitute a species of white elephant, with which he would gladly dispense. But various difficulties present themselves as soon as any suggestion is made of cutting down the establishment, and in the end the advice of the head gardener is usually followed--a clever fellow who is not without an eye to the main chance in recommending his master to seek an equivalent for uncalled-for expenditure by the sale of superfluous produce in the town a few miles distant. And so things are allowed to remain as they were, with this excellent result, that not only do the gardens and hot-houses, which suffice for a trade of no mean dimensions, henceforth pay their own expenses, but show a considerable surplus besides to swell the already handsome wages of the canny Scotch foreman. There is, however, one exception to the general satisfaction in the shape of the struggling local nurseryman, who soon finds ruin staring him in the face through being undersold in every department by this spurious, bounty-fed industry. What wonder if he is loud and bitter in execration of Dives for robbing, as he thinks, the poor man of his livelihood? Far removed from the calm atmosphere of political economy, the working classes can never rid themselves of a sense of unfairness and indignant revengefulness at the sight of 'the aristocracy' dipping its fingers into the chaldron of commerce. As a practical result of this system, in Manchester and Liverpool, to take two out of a number of similar instances, the price of cut flowers is permanently affected by the quantity daily brought in for sale from neighbouring country seats, and disposed of at nominal rates. There is, indeed, one large town in the Midlands where no florist's business has been able to survive the competition of a certain noble duke, whose representatives are even wont to hawk button-hole flowers about the streets. But, much as we may deplore the suffocation of a thriving334 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. industry, it is impossible to deny the indefeasible right of these 'good old English gentlemen' to turn their ancestral homes, if they so please, into sources of income ; for, after all, the question of prestige concerns no one but themselves. They have, however, one distinctly unfair advantage in the race, if race it is to be. In the eyes of the law a private mansion is still supposed to be a 'pleasure,' where its owner can seek rest from the turmoil of business--'procul negotiis solutus omni fenore.' Thus it often happens that the park and gardens of some wealthy proprietor are, for rating purposes, assessed as pleasure grounds, at a mere nominal value, while an acre or two of land, with a few thousand feet of glass, rented by one of this tenants, will be found valued at 200l. or more per annum as a 'manufacturing establishment,' though, if the truth were known, the landlord's business, as well as his premises, is far larger and more remunerative. In the reform of local government, of which so much is expected, a readjustment of the principles of assessment may perhaps put these unevenly matched competitors once more on a fair level. Besides the rivalry in home trade, foreign importations of cut flowers reach formidable dimensions at certain seasons ; almost daily, from Christmas to Easter, there are sales by auction in Covent Garden, at which roses and violets, hyacinths and narcissus, from the villages along the Riviera, are poured into the market without stint : the quality is generally inferior, but just good enough to command a sale and oust much of the English-grown produce. If the ghost of Protection, which seems as though it cannot be permanently laid, ever assumes bodily shape and re-enters the 'region of practical politics,' it will find no unproductive luxury readier to hand and more suitable for taxation than these imported flowers, no industry more deserving of relief that English horticulture. For here is a case where self-protection, by the simple method of self-effacement in bad times, is impossible. Capital once invested in hot-houses or bricks and mortar is sunk permanently, and cannot be reconverted except at a ruinous sacrifice ; so that it behoves an intending investor to be specially wary about embarking upon an enterprise in which, whatever happens, he will be obliged to stick to the ship. There is moreover one condition of success absolutely essential, though possibly unpalatable--that personal supervision be constantly exercised and an active share taken in the management. The fate of various horticultural companies is a standing proof of the folly of those shareholders who thought that by sitting still and leaving others to work they could make fortunes in a business which not only involves extraordinary risks, but demands exceptional skill and experience at its head. So too in partnerships it will be found that only by the close and assiduous attention of all concerned can the 1885 THE LONDON FLOWER TRADE. 335 formidable total of expenses be kept within bounds, the wastefulness of employes be curbed, and an effective control maintained over the financial position. So much has been already said about attendant risks and drawbacks that the adoption of horticulture as a profession may seem a matter of doubtful expediency under any circumstances ; there is, however, a brighter side, but irresponsible advocacy of novel occupations in terms of unqualified praise is far too common, and often gives rise to deceptive hopes resulting in bitter disappointment It seemed therefore important, above all things, to guard against any possible misapprehension, though claiming to pose as the discoverer of an Eldorado, where money could be easily and quickly made in the exercise of what many people consider their favourite pastime. The prevalence of widely mistaken ideas on the subject is proved by rhapsodies on the charming and delightful nature of the profession, and estimates of fabulous profits supposed to accrue therefrom, which, though made in all good faith by his friends, sound like irony to one acquainted with the sober if not stern reality. A man who intends to make horticulture the business of his life must be prepared to treat it as such ; if he is a mere dilettante, choosing the pursuit for no other reason than that he is fond of flowers, he will assuredly burn his fingers ; but provided he is willing to concentrate all his energies and devote all his time to work, there is a fair prospect of reaping his reward more quickly and perhaps more plenteously than in a loftier profession. For the evils of overcrowding are at present reduced to a minimum by the absence of organisation among the competitors ; in process of time small proprietors, depending for labour chiefly upon their own families, must be superseded by large establishments, just as the factory system has taken the place of handicrafts ; but the idea is still in its infancy, and there is plenty of room for enterprise, with a market practically unlimited and only partially developed by local nurserymen. Operations on a fairly extensive scale can be commenced with a capital not exceeding two or three thousand pounds ; this is no slight advantage, for, as a rule, the possessor of such a sum finds it utterly insufficient to purchase even a small share in any first-class business, and attractive only to adventurers in whose concerns he would be unwise to participate. Most of the capital at command may properly be laid out in providing the necessary buildings and stock in trade ; the reserve fund required to meet outlay for wages and working expenses is exceptionally small, for Nature is a powerful auxiliary whose services cost nothing, and money is rapidly turned over in a business where the produce soon reaches maturity and is paid for as soon as sold. The prices realised are subject to wide fluctuations, sometimes 336 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. yielding very large profits, and occasionally quite the reverse. At Christmas and Easter, when demand is always ahead of supply, the rates obtainable for all kinds of flowers ought to satisfy the most sanguine expectations. On the other hand, periods of stagnation occur in summer, during which hardly anything is remunerative and the produce is nearly all wasted or given away to charitable institutions. There is some consolation, however, in knowing that, at such periods, the expense of production is very limited, so that the waste does not involve such serious loss as would be incurred by a 'glut' in the autumn or winter months. With moderate caution and foresight it should be quite possible to steer an even course between the two extremes, and maintain an average throughout the year fairly propitious to the grower ; when the balance is struck, his receipts ought to be so far in excess of expenditure as to yield a dividend of 10 or 15 per cent. upon the capital employed. This is by no means an extravagant estimate ; the results of a year's trading are often much more profitable : for instance, the writer knows one person who started in business about ten years ago, and, after barely clearing expenses at first, has gradually improved his position to such an extent that he is now making 25 per cent. per annum upon the whole of his capital. Of course it may be argued that the scope is limited, and that such remarkable success is only possible so long as the capital employed is insignificant. Be that as it may, it is emphatically as a field for enterprise on a moderate scale that horticulture is advocated; not in the light of a speculation for people with superfluous means, but as an opening for men who can command a few thousand pounds and yet cannot find work for their hands to do. Before any decisive steps are taken towards entering a business of this kind, there is another matter which claims equal consideration with that of profit and loss. The question of social position is an important factor in the case, which ought not to be lightly disregarded. No doubt in London the 'status' of business men is fully recognised, but much of the old exclusiveness still prevails in the country, where connection with trade is by no means a good passport into society. A man who settles in a fresh neighbourhood, without introductions and with nothing but an unpretentious business to recommend him, will do wisely not to calculate upon being received with open arms at the outset ; in the long run he will be sure to find his level, but it will require great tact, patience, and steadiness to live through an inevitable period of isolation, with but little to relieve the monotony of work. Nevertheless if a man is genuinely devoted to the pursuit, so that it can serve him at need both for business and pleasure ; if he possesses that resolute determination to succeed which asserts itself 1885 THE LONDON FLOWER TRADE. 337 in spite of difficulties, making the most of every opportunity and refusing to recognise an impossible-then there is little fear of his being disappointed with horticulture or regretting his choice of such a novel profession. He will appreciate the value of having secured a country life, amid the fragrance of flowers gathered from all quarters of the globe to bloom at command beneath an English sky ; he will rejoice in a manly feeling of independence and freedom unknown to idle 'men about town;' and he will have the satisfaction of believing that his work consists in ministering to one of the purest and most refined tastes of a civilised community-the newly-awakened love of flowers. EDWARD A. ARNOLD. VOL. XVIII.-No. 102. Z338 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. ANTI-CHOLERA INOCULATION. THE English scientific world is dimly aware that a certain Dr. Jaime Ferran, of Tortosa, in Spain, claims to have discovered a method of protective inoculation against cholera, from which - according to his own statements - the most wonderful results have accrued. But Britain is proud to remember that even the renowned Koch's discovery of the so-called cholera bacillus received its ignominious death- blow from Dr, Klein, a naturalised Englishman, the commissioner of our Government, who swallowed the organism by the tumblerful with absolute impunity. We know further, in a vague and misty way, that Ferran's whole superstructure professes to be based on Koch's discredited discovery. We know that good things don't come out of Nazareth, and that Spain is the last country in Europe to which we can look for scientific light. When, therefore, medical journals tell us that serious consequences and even deaths have resulted from these inoculations - when the Times informs us that there can be little doubt but that Ferran's credulous patients are subjected to some form of septic poisoning, the effects of which would be likely to vary with the state of health of the recipient, but that there is not a tittle of evidence to show that the fluid used for the inoculation is capable either of producing cholera or of conferring immunity from it; that at best, in fact, the whole thing is but the outcome of an hypothesis founded upon another hypothesis, to which scientific opinion in this country is now altogether opposed;[*1*] - when we are gravely informed of all this, most of us are quite ready to put the whole thing aside as unworthy of attention, and to admit with the writer in our great national foolometer that Ferran's experiments and the talk about them are alike to be deprecated, inasmuch as they serve to excite expectations not likely to be realised, and in this way to divert attention from means which experience has proved to be absolutely necessary for the protection of our country against cholera. But the world moves, even though we may shut our eyes to the fact and pooh-pooh it as a mere hypothesis. For my part I prefer to examine evidence instead of ignoring it, and looking at the evidence [*1 The Times, July 2, 1885.*] 1885 ANTI-CHOLERA INOCULATION. 339 regarding Ferran's discovery, and comparing it with what can be adduced in support of the discovery of Jenner, I have not the slightest hesitation in saying that that evidence is as ample as it could well be made during the six months which have elapsed since Ferran inaugurated his system on himself, and that it is infinitely more crucial and convincing than anything which Jenner could bring forward ten years after his first experiment on his son.[*2*] Close on a century has elapsed since then, and with all our accumulated experience what are the facts on which we now found our belief in the efficacy of Jennerian vaccination? According to Dr. Buchanan, Chief Medical Officer to the Local Government Board, the population of the metropolis in 1881 consisted of 3,620,000 persons who had been vaccinated, and 19,000 who were unvaccinated. A great epidemic of small-pox had just closed, and during that epidemic 15,171 persons - 11,412 vaccinated and 3,759 unvaccinated - had been treated in the hospitals of the Metropolitan Asylums Board. Had small-pox dealt with the unvaccinated section of the population as lightly as it dealt with the vaccinated, instead of furnishing 3,759 cases as it should have yielded by 599, or 6 1/3 times less. Therefore the vaccinated population exhibited an immunity from attacks of small- pox six and a third times greater than that enjoyed by the unvaccinated. Again, among the 11,412 cases of small-pox in vaccinated persons recorded, there were by 1,008 deaths, while among the 3,759 unvaccinated there were 1,669. If the death-rate among the unvaccinated cases had been as low as it was among the vaccinated there would have been as low as it was among the vaccinated there would have been but 332 deaths instead of 1,669, or 5 times less. From this it follows that when small-pox does occur among vaccinated persons the probability of recovery is five times greater than in unvaccinated persons; and multiplying the two protections together, the chance of not dying from small-pox is about 31 1/2 times greater among the vaccinated population than it is among the unvaccinated. Well, how does the protection conferred by Ferran's procedure contrast with this? Before answering that question let me first explain the nature of his great test experiment. Dr. Ferran had proved the theoretical portion of his case by demonstrations, which I shall afterwards describe, when the outbreak of cholera at Alcera afforded him the opportunity of putting his theories practically to the proof. Alcira is built upon a small island in the river Jucar, and according to the official census contains 16,000 inhabitants. On the 27th of April cholera appeared in the town, and on the 1st of May Dr. Ferran had established himself there and set to work. He had no compulsory law to assist him, and was frowned on by the Government, whose measures of quarantine he had scoffed at. But though a comparatively young man, his reputation for learning had spread through Catalonia and Valencia. The [*2 In November 1789. See Baron's Life of Jenner.*] z2 municipality of Barcelona had last year sent him as their representative to Marseilles to study the cholera epidemic which ravaged the South of France. He had written on cholera, and had propounded a treatment of which he had proved the harmlessness on himself and fifty of his fiends and a commission named by the Barcelona Academy of Medicine had verified his statements and results. The inhabitants of Aleira were panic-stricken and ignorant, and when Dr. Ferran presented himself in their midst, they eagerly flocked to him for aid. he prosecuted his work systematically. Every man, woman and child inoculated received a certificate filled up with his or her name, and bearing a number corresponding with an entry in a register of cases which he kept. On the back of the certificate were printed half a dozen short paragraphs stating what was actually claimed for the system. It would not, the reader was informed, confer absolute protection against cholera any more than vaccination conferred absolute immunity from small-pox, but it would greatly diminish the changes of attack, and still more so the risk of death. The protection, too, would probably wear out, and inoculation should therefore be repeated from time to time during an epidemic. One paragraph I shall give entire:- "As the inoculation requires a certain time to ensure the immunity of the person inoculated, it should be noted that every attack of cholera occurring during the first five days after inoculation is outside its influence, which cannot be relied on before the expiration of five days." This caveat against including in the statistics collected deaths occurring within fire days after the operation was- it will be seen from the above- clearly put in at the very commencement of the experiment. On the 18th of May Dr. Ferran telegraphed me that up to that date 5,432 of the inhabitants of Alcira had been inoculated, leaving some 10,500 uninoculated. Among the uninoculated population there had been 64 cases of cholera, or 1 in every 163 persons, and 30 deaths, or 1 in every 352. Among the inoculated there had been but 7 attacks, or 1 in every 776 persons, and no deaths. These are sufficiently brilliant results, but I propose to give Ferran the trial of a picketpocker, and shall not accept a single statement he makes unless supported by independent testimony. I therefore at once turn to the evidence of his professional brethren, and take my stand upon it. Le Temps of the 27th of June contains a report issued by the Medical Corps of Alcira, and attested by eleven signatures. From this report I extract the following tables: - Table from May 1 to May 31 inclusive. Official census of inhabitants . . 16,000 Inoculated . . . . . 7,043, or 44.01 per cent. Re- Inoculated. . . . . 4,117, or 25.73 per cent. Uninoculated Inoculated Re-Inoculated Attacks 121 14 9 Recoveries 49 10 8 Under Treatment 15 1 1 Deaths 57 3 0 Observation- In no case did a death of an inoculated person occur after the fifth day. One of the fatal cases, when inoculated, had already premonitory diarrhoea. Table from June 1 to June 17 inclusive. Inoculated . . . . 8,874, or 55.46 per cent. Re- Inoculated . . . . 5,210, or 32.56 per cent. Uninoculated Inoculated Re- inoculated Under treatment since May 15 1 1 Attacked during June 71 10 8 Recoveries 26 8 7 Under treatment 15 1 1 Deaths 45 2 1 Observation.- On of the inoculated cases died within five days after inoculation. Neither these tables nor the report which accompanies them enables one to say whether the Medical Corps includes re-inoculated cases with inoculated. To assume that in these statistics re-inoculations are not included in the inoculations, would be the view of the case enormously the more favourable to Dr. Ferran, and I shall therefore assume the other alternative, namely, that the number of inoculated (including re-inoculated) at the 31st of May was but 7,043, and at the 17th of June 8,874. The mean of these two figures, 7,958, will then be the mean number of inoculated of all classes exposed to the epidemic influences prevalent at Alcira during the eighteen days from the 1st of June to the 17th of June inclusive. Well, here we have the typical conditions of a crucial test experiment, precisely similar to that which Pasteur himself devised to prove the efficacy of his anti-anthrax vaccination- an isolated town of 16,000 inhabitants divided into two equal batches, consorting together for precisely the same time under precisely similar conditions, and exposed to precisely the same exciting causes of disease. And what, on the testimony of the Medical Corps of Alcira, was the result? Tabulated for easy comparison with the forgoing tables it was this: - Results from June 1 to June 17 inclusive. Mean number of inoculated (including re-inoculated) persons . . . . 7,958, or 49.74 per cent. Mean number of non-inoculated persons . . 8,042, or 50.26 per cent. Uninoculated Inoculated Attacks 71 18 Deaths (eliminating in inoculated cases deaths during five first days) 45 2 In other words, 1 case of cholera occurred in every 113 persons among the uninoculated population and 1 in every 442 in the inocu- 342 The Nineteeth Century. Aug. lated, or four times as few in proportion. Among the uninoculated persons attacked, 2 our of every 3 died, among the inoculated but 2 of 18, or six times as few. Among the uninoculated population 1 person in every 179 died of cholera, among the inocu- lated but 1 in 3,979, or a proportion smaller by twenty-two and a quarter times. Here then we are in a position to compare the protective efficacy of vaccination against small-pox, and inoculation against cholera, to a nicety. The immunity exhibited in the two instances I have detailed by population project against small-pox and cholera by the methods of Jenner and Ferran respectively was this: - Small-pox Cholera Security against attached enjoyed with unprotected population . . . . . . . . . . 12 6-1/3 to 1 as 4 to 1 Security against death if attached . .. . ,,5 ,, .. 6 .. Security against a fatal attack . . . . . . . ,,3-1/2,, ,, 22-1/4 ,, These are far from the maximum results attainable under the working of Jenner's vaccination but they are the results actually at- tained under State encouragement of the most exceptional kind and three-quarters of a century's experience. In the case of Ferran's inoculations, the results are those obtained without experience, in the midst of extraordinary pressure, by the energy of a single man and in the face of State opposition. It is of course open to assert that the eleven gentlemen who signed the tables I have quoted are active or passive parties to the fraud of palming off cooked statistics on the public. But that involves four further assumptions -- (1) that Dr. Palido, of Madrid, who in the Siglo Medico of the 7th of June gives correspondingly significant figures regarding 1,851 cases of inocu- lation in other towns, is in league with them ; (2) that Drs. Galvan, Lierandi, and Hernandez, of Benifayo, and Dr. Segui, of Chests, who testify to similar figures in the case of their respective towns (not included in Pulido's statistics, are parties to the deception ; (3) that the medical commission named by the Provincial Representatives of Albacete, which reported 'that the inoculation has a prophylactic value, demonstrated scientifically by facts,' sails in the same boat with the rest; and (4) that the Commission of the Barcelona Academy of Medicine, which testified to corresponding results in experiments on animals, was probably little better than than the others. If we carry our incredulity so far, there is no proof that Ferran's procedure is better than a fraud, but then applying the same test to vaccination against small-pox, we are drive to precisely the same conclusion. Admitting the same evidence as to results in the two cases, the correctness of the theory of the mode in which those results are obtained is as immaterial in the one case as in the other. The vaccine lymph which we use may be simply small-pox modified by trans- mission through the cow, as our authorities hold, or it may be some- 1885 ANTI-CHOLERA INOCULATION 343 thing entirely different, as the exhaustive experiments of Chauveau appear to me to prove. In the same way the cholera vaccine manu- factured by Dr. Ferran may consist of pure cultures of the cholera- bacillus, as he maintains, and as the Barcelona Commission asserts, or it may simply consis of 'some form of septic poison,' as other suspect. But if 'some form of septic poison' or septic organism was found to have the effect alleged, it would not be one whit more astonishing than the fact that fowls, which Pasteur had artificially infected with cattle-anthrax, afterwards proved refractory to chicken- cholera ; or, if Chauvean's demonstration of the absolute non-identity and non-transmutability of cow-pock and small-pox be correct, than the inoculation with cow-pock confers immunity from small-pox. but if the theory on which Ferran's method profess to be based should prove to accord with the generally accepted theory of vaccines - viz., that there are modifications of the virus of the disease against which they protect, and that they confer immunity in proportion to the immunity from second attacks conferred by the disease itself-his case would be simplified and strengthened. The first theoretical objection to Ferran's procedure from the standpoint of theory is that cholera does not protect against second attacks, and that therefore the pretense of protection arising from a modified type of the disease is absurd. Now, in order to extinguish Ferran by proving that cholera itself does not protect against second attacks, Surgeon-General Murray, M.D., published in the St. Jame's Gazette of the 8th of last June an elaborate table of statistics setting forth the cholera experience of the Central Goal of Agra from 1860 to 1865, and he will probably be surprised when I appeal to his figure to provide exactly the converse of his proposition. Of course I don't mean to say that cholera confers absolute immunity from second attacks - neither does small-pox, nor scarlatina, not measles --but what I saw is, that for a time cholera, like the other diseases I have named, does confer a comparatively greater immunity from attack. Out of an average strength of 2,364 prisoners, in the course of the five epidemic years 1860-5, there were, Dr. Murray tells us, 1,196 admissions of cholera cases and 304 deaths, and of these 63 cases were admitted a second and 5 a third time. Deduct- ing the double and treble admission, we have 1,128 prisoners attacked, and among these (again deducting the deaths in secondary and tertiary cases) there were 271 deaths. In other words, 1 prisoner our of every 2-09 on the average strength was attacked, and 1 our of every 8-72 on the average strength died. 857 recovered, and of these 63, or 1 in every 13-6, was attacked and 30, or 1 in every 28-56,died. During a period extending over five years, there- fore, the immunity from attack among the cholerised prisoners was four time as great as it was among the uncholerised, and the im- munity from fatal attack was 3-05 times greater. But the immunity344 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. conferred by inoculation of all kinds - small-pox, anthrax, or anything else - tends to wear out, and Ferran claims nothing more than to confer comparative immunity for a few months. What do Dr. Murray's figures teach us concerning second attacks occurring within a year after the first? Why this., that our of a mean average strength of 875 cholerised prisoners only 35 attacks occurred within twelve months after cholerisation, or 1 in every 25 persons, and 16 deaths, or 1 in every 54.66 persons. The immunity exhibited by the cholerised population from attack within twelve months, therefore, was nearly twelve times as great as that exhibited by the non- cholerised, and the immunity from fatal attack within the same time was 6.19 times as great. These results entirely justify the principle on which Ferran's procedure professes to be based, and the only point on which they appear to disagree with this results is in the high mortality which they exhibit in cases of second attack. But the disagreement is of no import, as it does not follow that the cholera virus falling on organs damaged by a previous natural attack will prove as little dangerous as when the first attack has been artificially contrived to fall on a totally different portion of the system. That we can artificially control and divert the incidence of diseases producible by inoculation we know by ample experience. Small-pox inoculation is a case in point. Small-pox as taken in the ordinary manner by un- protected persons is a horrible, deadly disease. Introduce the virus into the skin, and the manifestations of the disease are so trifling as to be, as Jenner tells us, often undistinguishable from cow-pock. Pasteur can, by different methods of introducing the virus, produce different forms of hydrophobia, with symptoms varying from 'dumb' paralysis to raging delirium. Chauveau, by injecting cow-pock virus into the blood-torrent in arteries, produced not a localised but a general eruption. And similar results can be obtained in chicken cholera, the bovine disease known as the 'maladie de Chabert,' and doubtless in a host of other diseases which have yet to be worked out. Having disposed of this preliminary objection, then, let us examine the theoretical basis of Ferran's alleged discovery, and see how it accords with the teachings of science in other analogous cases. But this will necessitate a digression and an explanation which I shall endeavour to make intelligible to the most scientific mind. The researches of modern scientists, and notably those of Pasteur and Tyndall, have proved that, besides its visible animal and vegetable inhabitants, this world swarms with a population of living entities of extreme minuteness, detectable only under strong powers of the microscope, and requiring special treatment and staining to render them perceptible even then. These entities possess most of the distinctive characteristics of vegetable life, but many of them are full of energy and motion, wriggling and gliding and swimming about in the fluid in which they live, so that for long it was a question among 1885 ANTI-CHOLERA INOCULATION. 345 philosophers to which of the great divisions of life they really belonged. To get rid of dispute on this preliminary point, Sedillot devised for these microscopic organisms the non-contentious name of 'microbes,' or minute living beings, and that name, being adopted by Pasteur, has become classic in every tongue. The world of microbes counts as many and as diversified families and races as there are races and families of visible plants and animals. We maybe sure of so much, and we have good grounds for the belief that the species of microbes are incomparably more numerous than anything to be found among the grosser fellow dwellers on the globe. Their habits, forms, and functions are infinitely varied. They are to be found everywhere, and performing all kinds of work. Microbes ferment our bread, turn wort into beer, grape-juice into wine, and wine into vinegar. Microbes cause meat to putrefy, milk to become sour, and butter rancid. Exterminate the microbes in our fields, and they would produce no crops, and without the aid of the hosts of microbes who find their habitation within ourselves, it seems highly probably that the digestion even of the ploughman would come to a stop, and that food would be to us as a poison. On the other hand, could certain mischief-working microbes be banished from the world, smut, and rust, and mildew would disappear from our fields, and small-pox, typhoid, consumption, leprosy, yellow-fever, and a host of other scourges would cease to afflict the abodes of men. These microbes propagate themselves by budding or subdivision, and by the production of spores (or rudimentary seeds), and under favourable circumstances they do so with such extraordinary rapidity that a single individual will give rise to myriads in the course of twenty-four hours; and during one revolution of the earth a greater number of generations will have sprung into life than man can boast of since the days of Adam. Can it be wondered therefore that in the microbe world the struggle for existence is at its fiercest, and the capacity for change of character and habits under artificial cultivation is found to exist to an extent undreamt of, in the regions of higher and consequently slower life? For many or most of these microbes are omnivorous feeders, and can be reared not only on animal or vegetable substances, but will at a pinch flourish in solutions of appropriate organic salts, and in different media the same species will rapidly exhibit very different habits of size and growth, and even of propagation, and give rise to very different products. Especially is this the case when cultivation in different temperatures and with differing exposures to light and air are brought into play, but on that point alone a book might be filled with the curious knowledge that has been accumulated concerning them. Reared in animal or vegetable juices or decoctions, the difficulty is to keep a single species pure, and all kinds of devices have to be resorted to to guard the medium in which it lives from the contamination of floating germs from without. But in 346 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. gelatine they can be easily separated and reared in purity. Dozens of different microbe species and families might last year be seen side by side, growing under the auspices of Dr. Watson Cheyne, in tubes of gelatine at the Health Exhibition, and those who studied them will easily understand how experts can recognise a particular microbe by its habit of growth when so placed. One flourishes most vigorously towards the air, another in the jelly's depths; one liquefies the medium on which it feeds, another leaves it solid; some reduce the jelly to a coloured and others to an opalescent fluid, while yet others remain visible simply in the form of fleecy clouds. Well, long ere Pasteur had demonstrated the identic processes of fermentation and diseases, their analogy had been more than suspected, and cholera was among the diseases most evidently dependent on a process analogous to that of fermentations. When the dependence of diseases upon different specific microbes had been demonstrated in one or two cases, it was evident that there must be a microbe which, invading the system, was the cause of cholera; and Koch, who had first succeeded in cultivating and studying outside the body the microbe-factor of anthrax, the deadly bovine disease to which I have already referred; Koch, who had afterwards unmasked and isolated the microbe-cause of consumption in man, set himself to work to discover the microbe-cause of cholera. And he discovered it in an infinitely minute organism with whose renown the world has since rung, the famous comma-bacillus. A bacillus is simply a form of microbe so called from its resemblance to a little rod, and Koch called this particular bacillus the comma-bacillus, because it was curved like a comma (,). He invariably found it - though other investigators were not so successful - in cholera cases, and he never found it - though other investigators said they did - in any other disease. Other men produced other comma-shaped microbes, which they found in all sorts of places - in marshy water, in decaying cheese, in healthy human saliva, in morbid secretions and tissues of various kinds - but Koch stuck to his point, and maintained that these were not his comma-bacillus, and that their behaviour under cultivation proved that they were entirely different. But he failed to establish his case by the rigorous proof required to establish as a scientific fact the connection of cause and effect between his comma-bacillus and cholera. He isolated and cultivated his organism - a lively, delicate, and interesting microbe, by the way - and he even discovered it in the water used in a cholera-stricken district, but he utterly failed to reproduce the disease in animals, introduce the bacillus into their systems how he might, and the world considered that his views and his microbe had alike received their coup de grace when Dr. Klein, sent by the British Government to India to investigate the discovery, swallowed full doses of the comma-bacillus and found himself none the worse. Koch's renown as an experimenter was such, that when he declared 1885 ANTI-CHOLERA INOCULATION. 347 that his innumerable attempts to communicate cholera to the lower animals, conducted in Egypt and India, had produced only negative results, and that he believed the brute creation to be insusceptible of it, the scientific world considered the matter settled. Former experimenters of repute in Europe had alleged that they had imparted cholera to various lower animals, but they must have been mistaken. And when again, after the publication of Koch's reports, cholera having once more established itself in Europe, MM. Micati and Reitsch, of Marseilles, announced that they had succeeded in producing cholera by the injection into guinea-pigs of pure cultivations of Koch's comma-bacillus, their report was received with incredulity. But when the same result was achieved by Dr. Van Ermengem, of Brussels, by Drs. Doyen and Babes, of Paris, and by a dozen other investigators in Italy and elsewhere, and finally, when Koch himself, returned to Berlin, produced fatal cholera in guinea-pigs by the injection of one- hundredth part of a drop of fluid impregnated with his microbe, the demonstration would have seemed complete had it not been for the harmlessness of Klein's 'microbe dinner,' and of similar performance on the part of other disbelievers in India. And yet these microbe dinners proved absolutely nothing more than would be proved if a philosophic horse should set himself to show that the parasitic bot-worm had nothing to do with the gadfly, by swallowing a mouthful of the full-grown insect. He would find himself none the worse; but he would have proved nothing, for he had simply swallowed the fly instead of the egg. Recently M. Bochfontaine repeated Klein's experiment in a rougher form in Paris, and swallowed five cubic centimetres of choleraic matter made up into pills. In a few hours his pulse rose from 70 to between 100 and 120. He experienced sleeplessness, nausea, and slight convulsions, and these symptoms lasted for four-and-twenty hours. Probably were Dr. Klein to repeat the experiment - which in India proved so harmless - in the colder latitude of London he might obtain very different results. On what grounds so I venture on this conjecture? Because of the very different results which in this case the same experiments on the same classes of animals have given when conducted in different climates, and because the discoveries made by Dr. Ferran, and corroborated by the Barcelona Commission, if we provisionally accept them, explain that, as in the case of other microbes, different results may be ensured by the cultivation of the cholera microbe at different temperatures. The puzzling thing about Koch's comma-bacillus, as he described it in India, was how it could possibly do the mischief which he attributed to it. The smallest trace of acid killed it, and the gastric juice of every animal, including Dr. Klein, into whose stomach it was introduced, digested it with perfect ease. The robuster ferments which flourish in sewage speedily choked it out of existence if it tried to establish itself in that unsavoury medium. 348 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. Other microbes, or at least their seed or spores, can stand any amount of rough treatment - drying, boiling, freezing - everything, in fact, short of burning. But this wretched comma-bacillus, if only dried for three hours, was rendered as dead as a door-nail. Assuming that under certain circumstances, in which so far it had not been artificially placed, it produced spores, the spores would naturally be expected to survive the perils which the bacillus could not face; but the most assiduous care on the part of Koch and his disciples having failed to induce it to produce spores, they asserted - in defiance, I have always thought, of an overwhelming mass of evidence - that the cholera microbe does not propagate itself by spores, and they supported their position by the statement that certain classes of microbes have never been shown to produce spores. But the more closely the genesis of every living thing has been traced, the more literally has the truth of Harvey's aphorism been proved - omne vivum ab ovo. It is not easy to trace the process of spore-production in ferns and mosses. The infantile history of the kangaroo and platypus for long remained a mystery to zoologists, and when it comes to investigating the life-phases of organisms whose adult forms are measured by 10,000ths of an inch, the minuter phases may easily escape the detective eye even of the most powerful microscope. It has always seemed to me that if the comma-bacillus was really the microbe of cholera it must produce spores, and that sooner or later some form of it analogous to seed would be discovered. On such an assumption only, so far as I can see, can the phenomena of cholera propagation be reconciled with Koch's contention that his bacillus is really the cause of the disease. Well, what Dr. Ferran alleges briefly is, that he has discovered a method of inducing Koch's comma-bacillus to produce spores, and that those spores, like the spores of other microbes, manifest a vitality incomparably greater than the adult form of the organism. Introduced into the stomach they defy the acids of the processes of digestion, and safely reach those portions of the intestine in which their happy hunting ground is placed. Introduced into sewage, they hold their own against those grosser microbes which choke off the comma-bacillus of Koch, As in the case of the frog's egg or the insect's there issues forth not the frog or the fly, but the tadpole and the caterpillar, beings that flourish where their ultimate forms would die; so from the spore of Koch's bacillus, but an intermediate form, differing in shape and endowed with a different vitality, which lives and flourishes in circumstances where its bacillar form would perish. But why, if the existence of these hitherto unknown phases in the life of the cholera bacillus be real, and if during these phases the organism can be introduced into man and animals through the stomach and through the tissues - why did all the elaborate efforts of 1885 ANTI-CHOLERA INOCULATION 349 Koch in India and of Pasteur's commission in Egypt fail to produce the disease artificially? How came it that Klein survived his microbe dinner? India and Egypt are tropical climates, and we have seen that when repeated in temperate Europe the same experiments have produced diametrically opposite results. The difference is exactly what one would expect if Ferran's discovery be true. For a detailed description of the technique which he employs, I refer those who are interested in the matter to Dr. Van Ermengem's newly published work, Le Microbe du Cholera, where in one of the appendices they will find a full description of the process (op. cit. pp. 334-47). For the general reader it will suffice to say that Ferran takes a particle of a pure cultivation of Koch's comma- bacillus from a colony growing in gelatine, and placing it in a sterilised and watery meat soup leaves it to multiple for from four to six hours in a temperature of 37 deg C. (about 101 deg Fahr.) At the end of that time the soup becomes turbid, and two hours after this change it is taken out, an equal portion of similar soup flavoured with bile is added, and the whole is then placed in a temperature of 15 deg C. (58 deg Fahr.) At this temperature the new forms appear, which, according to Ferran, are the forms in which the microbe is transmissible to man, and a pure liquid cultivation of these exposed to the influence of oxygen it is which forms his anti-cholera vaccine. Is the microbe in this vaccine attenuated? Ferran says that his microbe can, like that of cattle-anthrax, he attenuated in various degrees, but for purposes of inoculation attenuation is not essential. This is quite consistent with what we know as to inoculation against pleuro- pneumonia in cattle, where the unattenuated microbe, being introduced into the cool tail of the ox, multiplies so slowly as to give rise to a harmless but protective type of the disease. Raise the temperature of the tail by wrapping it in cotton wool, and the microbe developes so vigorously that the attack is of full severity. The cholera microbe is capable of but a languid existence in cellular tissue, and apparently the law of vaccines has been correctly formulated in the phrase, 'Whenever a virus is placed in conditions unfavourable to its development, it constitutes its own proper vaccine.' Is there anything incredible in the foregoing account of Dr. Ferran's theory and procedure? To a certain extent the independent observations of Dr. Van Ermengem have verified his observations, and the Barcelona Commission has controlled and verified his procedure. Under the eyes of its members the comma- bacillus has been developed into spores and spirillae, and these again into comma-bacilli. Before their eyes a quantity of the culture of the infective form has been taken and divided into two parts. One, strained through a Chamberland filter, so as to free it from organisms, 350 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. has been injected into one series of guinea-pigs, and the result has been nil. The second, unfiltered, in half the previous doses has been similarly injected into another series of guinea-pigs, and all have died, and from the blood of the infected animals the comma-bacillus has been recovered. But there remained the proof of the prophylactic power claimed by Ferran for his vaccine. Again. before the eyes of the Commission twenty guinea-pigs were taken, ten inoculated and ten not. A week later they were subjected to injections of the same infective cultivation, the inoculated animals receiving it in larger doses. Again the result accorded with the prediction. The whole ten inoculated guinea-pigs lived, the ten not inoculated died. The demonstrations of other experimenters in the field of the causation of disease have stopped short at man. Ferran's did not. In the beginning of December himself and his friend Senor Pauli, the enthusiastic sharer of his researches, had inoculated themselves. By the end of March, others had been added to the list of his inoculated, and the names of thirty-eight - more than half being medical men - may be seen in the Comptes Rendus of the French Academy of Sciences for the 13th of April last. The Commission of the Barcelona Academy of Medicine examined into twenty cases of inoculation, including half a dozen of those just r referred to. A number of these experiments were conducted on the persons of medical men, and their effects, described in detail by the victims themselves, are appended to the report. At first and in the majority of cases thus described, the method of protective inoculation practised by Dr. Ferran seems to have been sufficiently heroic. A cubic centimetre (rather less than the cube of half an inch), in two equal portions, was injected into the cellular tissues of the arms. At the seats of inoculation severe pain was experiences, with heat and swelling, lasting from two to eight days before all uneasiness disappeared, but uniformly subsiding without suppuration. The constitutional symptoms varied, but were sometimes alarming, comprising marked depression of temperature, lividity, cramps, and other symptoms of choleraic collapse, and followed by reaction, from which in the course of a day or two, and without any treatment, the patient recovered. Subsequently Dr. Ferran had recourse to what the Commissioners call the 'gradual method' of inoculation. This consists of the injection of two drops of the vaccine into each arm, followed in eight days by the injection of twice that amount. With this procedure the general symptoms are insignificant or nil, and the local pain, though severe for a short time, rapidly disappears, and on the occasion of the second inoculation there are no general symptoms and little local inconvenience. Remarking on what they had witnessed, the Barcelona Commission with much caution stated - 1885 ANTI-CHOLERA INOCULATION. 351 That as to prophylaxis our deductions encourage the hope that a means of averting cholera has been discovered, but that this could not be affirmed except under test of an epidemic. The required test, as we have seen, was not long wanting, for on the 1st of May the Alcira experiment was instituted, with the results I have already described - the apparent saving of fifty-three cases of cholera and forty-two lives in a population of 8,000 in eighteen days. Does not this result fit in wonderfully well with the theory and preliminary experiments? But what of the Royal Commission appointed by King Alphonso? Well, it owed its appointment to a decree issued by the Spanish Minister for the Home Department in the end of May, prohibiting inoculation on the ground that it had in several cases resulted in death. The decree excited so much public indignation that the King ordered a commission. Its nomination naturally devolved on the Minister between whom and Ferran it professed to judge, and its composition was such as to lead to the foregone conclusion of a report hostile to the latter. Great was the public astonishment, therefore, when, towards the end of June, it transpired that the Commissioners' Report would be favourable to the system. The Report itself has been shelved by a reference to the Supreme Board of Health and the Madrid Academy of Medicine, but its conclusions have been published, and, as telegraphed to the English press, they are as follows : - First, the epidemic in Valencia is Asiatic cholera. Secondly, that the comma- bacillus, or microbe, does exist in the liquids used by Dr. Ferran for inoculation purposes. Thirdly, that inoculation is absolutely inoffensive, and ought to be tolerated under State supervision, the State collecting statistics until it can be finally decided if this system is really a preventive against cholera. Fourthly, Dr. Ferran is warmly recommended, as worthy of official protection and assistance, to continue his experiments. The Report is signed by four Commissioners out of five, the fifth remaining hostile to inoculation, and one, though he signs the Report, deprecates the proposed official intervention, which has already put such difficulties in the way of the labours of the Commission that it has been unable as yet to pronounce on the efficacy of inoculation. I have stated the authorities on which I have based what I have written concerning Ferran's alleged discovery. The pieces of the evidence all fit with perfect accuracy into each other, and this causes me to believe them to be true rather than simply the fabrications of a common conspiracy to deceive the world. I have not referred to the unargued denunciations of one or two foreign savants of high repute, but hopelessly committed to their own theories, because I have learned from experience that savants are, a thousand times more than poets, an irritabile pecus, and when they have 'made their book' the greatest of them hates to retract. On the evidence I take my stand, and so far that evidence - which, of course, further evidence 352 THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Aug. 1885 may explain or refute—seems to me to point but one conclusion, namely, that Ferran has discovered a hitherto unknown form of the cholera microbe, and that in that form it can be used as a vaccine hardly less potent against cholera than cow-pock is against variola. CHARLES CAMERON. NOTE.—I have read Dr. Brouardel's account of his reception by Dr. Ferran, and have in no way modified my conclusions. Assume the population of Alcira to be 23,000, as he arbitrarily asserts, instead of 16,000, and the result is to reduce the comparative immunity conferred by inoculation from 22 1/4 to 12 times that exhibited by the uninoculated population. I know too of the incident of the 70 'Little Sisters of the Poor' at Valencia, where 30 were attacked and 16 died of cholera after inoculation ; but I have also before me a letter of Señor Enrique Lopez , the medical attendant of their establishment, stating that the disease and the deaths occurred within five days of the inoculation in every case save one, and in that case the nun, having been absent on the 1st of July, when the inoculations took place, was uninoculated. As to Dr. Ferran's alleged refusal to communicate the secret of his preparation, that does not accord with the very complimentary statement of Dr. Van Ermengem as to Ferran's exceptional frankness in communicating his mode of procedure.—C.C. "It would be totally impossible for the present work of the Church of England to be carried on with half its efficiency if it were not for the help of this Society in our most important places."—ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. HOME MISSIONS OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. ----------------------------------------------- ADDITIONAL CURATES SOCIETY. New Offices :– ARUNDEL HOUSE, THAMES EMBANKMENT, LONDON, W.C. (Opposite the Temple Railway Station) Patron – HER MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY THE QUEEN. Vice-Patron – HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE OF WALES. Presidents – HIS GRACE THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY. HIS GRACE THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK. Treasurers – Rt. Hon. John Gellibrand Hubbard, M.P. Charles Thomas Arnold, Esq. Secretary – Rev. John George Deed Bankers – Messrs. Coutts. ----------------------------------------------- SPECIAL AND URGENT APPEAL. The Committee, while very thankful for the increased support the Society has received, must still most EARNESTLY APPEAL for further help to enable them to respond to the many urgent claims from densely populated and very poor Parishes for Grants towards the maintenance of MISSIONARY CLERGY. They are appalled at the number of large parishes especially in the Northern Towns where the Incumbents are working single- handed, or with a staff far beneath what is necessary. Since the condition of the East of London was brought before this Committee in 1878, no such sad and startling revelation of spiritual destitution has been brought before them. The Committee have already voted in grants more than the estimated income of the year, but they cannot place on one side the list of unaided parishes without a very solemn and earnest appeal to all who prize the blessings of the Gospel and the means of grace abundantly ministered to them, to aid the Society to extend its work in response to the urgent and pathetic claims from all parts. The Committee trust that this appeal which they are now constrained to make will meet with a hearty response and that Home Missions of the Church of England. they will be enabled to assist the over-taxed Incumbents of these poor and populous parishes in making provision for more clergy to do missionary work around the thousands and thousands in our land who are practically left as sheep without a shepherd. The Committee would draw especial attention to the claim of the Society to larger benefactions from the laity. The beneficed Clergy pay the whole stipends of about 3,500 Curates, while the stipends of those working under grants are largely made up from Clerical sources. An urgent appeal is therefore made to the wealthy laity, to landowners, merchants, and manufacturers, to all, indeed, who have been entrusted with abundance of this world's goods are responsible for the use of it as stewards of God's bounty. The following are only a few of the urgent but unaided cases on the Society's Register: - 1. - Pop. 9,350 . One Curate. 2. " 8,000 . One Curate. 3. " 4,500 . No Curate. 4. " 12,000 . No Curate. 5. " 6,074 . No Curate. 6. " 15,1444 . One Curate. 7. " 8,000 . One Curate. 8. " 6,850 . No Curate. 9. " 12,500 . One Curate. 10. " 8,000 . No Curate. 11. - Pop. 6,000 . No Curate. 12. " 19,000 . One Curate. 13. " 12,000 . One Curate. 14. " 18,000 . Three Curates. 15. " 7,000 . No Curate. 16. " 10,486 . No Curate. 17. " 6,456 . No Curate. 18. " 7,021 . No Curate. 19. " 7,100 . No Curate. 20. " 6,000 . No Curate. TESTIMONY TO THE VALUE OF THE SOCIETY'S WORK. From all sides the Committee receive testimony to the great value of the Society's work, as may be seen by the following extracts and letters- THE PALACE, LIVERPOOL, May 1, 1885 Dear Sir,-I am glad to have an opportunity of bearing my testimony to the great value of your Society's aid to the diocese of Liverpool. Large populations and very poor livings are the characteristics of the large and incessantly growing diocese over, which I have the honour to preside. "More living agents," is my constant cry. Were it not for the grants of your Society and the C.P.A., I should have little hope for the Church of England in this district. Yours faithfully, (Signed) J.C. Liverpool. The Rev. J.G. Deed. Home Missions of the Church of England The Bishop of Winchester writes : "I hold the work of the Society in great esteem. Almost all the poorest and largest parishes in my diocese are aided by it. I hardly know how some of them could be worked if it were not for the grants of the Society." MANCHESTER May 1, 1885 Dear Sir,- I cannot speak too highly of the value of the Grants of your Society to some of the most populous and spiritually necessitous parishes in this diocese. They amount to fifty in number, an are paid to forty-five parishes, seventeen of which have a population of upwards of 10,000 ; and, of the rest, all but one have a population of above 5,000. With scarcely an exception the condition of these parishes is satisfactory to me. My chief regret is that, as a diocese, we do not show our gratitude by contributing to the funds of the Society as liberally as I could wish. But we are passing through a prolonged period of commercial depression. I am sorry that I am obliged to leave London on the 22nd of May for confirmations, or I should have made a point of attending the Annual Meeting of the Society. I am, Dear Sir, Yours faithfully, (Signed) J. Manchester. The Rev. J.G. Deed. The Bishop of Rochester, speaking on behalf of the Society, said: - "There are two or three reasons why I want to press the claims of the Society. I find that it is entirely catholic in the assistance it gives. As I look over these thirty names I find here men of all schools of thought - to use the modern phrase - in the English Church, who are doing their work gallantly and cheerfully against great odds, endeavouring to stem the tide of ignorance and vice which this Society would remedy. I want to help the Society by a few grateful words, if I can, for I am very grateful, and as I glance over the list of parishes where you send good men to help the struggling hearts and hands of overburdened clergy, I cannot describe to you the amount of blessing these grants convey."Home Missions of the Church of England THE PALACE, RIPON, May 6, 1885. MY DEAR MR.DEED. - Thank you very much for the extract from your Report. We cannot but feel greatly indebted to your Society for the constant and valuable help it gives us, especially in the large town centres. Ever yours truly, W.B. RIPON. LIS ESCOP, TRURO, May 4, 1885. MY DEAR MR.DEED, - Absence from home has prevented me replying earlier to your letter of April 30th. I gladly comply with the request it contains that I should give you my opinion as to the work of the Society in the Diocese of Truro. I have often expressed in public the strong conviction which I entertain as to the value of the Society's work in Cornwall. The Grants are made with generosity and yet with careful discrimination. They are doing good to the Church to an extent which can hardly be exaggerated. Every detail of the management which has come under my notice has given me complete satisfaction. Believe me, Dear Mr. Deed, Sincerely yours, G. H. Truron. ADDITIONAL NEEDS. The estimated yearly increase in the population is about 350,000. There is therefore added every year to the numbers for whom the Church is called to make provision, population equal to the city of Manchester. The Church is called upon to keep pace with the ever increasing demands, as well as to make up for arrears through neglect in past days. The number of applications which remained unaided at the last revision of grants exceeded 450. An addition of £10,000 a year to the Society's income would, with the money promised to meet the Society's grants, enable the Committee to aid the most urgent of these cases. Contributions will be thankfully received at the Society's Office. Cheques and Post Office and Postal Orders should be crossed Messrs. Coutts. JOHN GEORGE DEED, M. A., Secretary Tontine Investment Policies, By combining an INSURANCE, an INVESTMENT, and an ANNUITY, OFFER SPECIAL ADVANTAGES TO INSURERS. ACTUAL RESULTS. The following Policies were taken out on the above plan at the London Office of the NEW YORK LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY (76 & 77, CHEAPSIDE), in 1871 and 1872, and having matured, have all recently been paid : - Plan - TEN-YEAR ENDOWMENT - 10-YEAR Tontine. Policy No. 84,253 Policy Amount. £250 s.0 d.0 Annual Premium. £26 s.8 d.9 Total Amount Paid by Company. £349 s.9 d.8 Policy No. 84,255 Policy Amount. £250 s.0 d.0 Annual Premium. £26 s.18 d.3 Total Amount Paid by Company. £351 s.13 d.5 Policy No. 84,298 Policy Amount. £250 s.0 d.0 Annual Premium. £26 s.7 d.8 Total Amount Paid by Company. £349 s.3 d.10 Policy No. 86,278 Policy Amount. £1,000 s.0 d.0 Annual Premium. £105 s.15 d.0 Total Amount Paid by Company. £1,380 s.9 d.9 Policy No. 86,632 Policy Amount. £1,000 s.0 d.0 Annual Premium. £105 s.2 d.2 Total Amount Paid by Company. £1,380 s.19 d.4 Policy No. 86,848 Policy Amount. £1,000 s.0 d.0 Annual Premium. £106 s.0 d.0 Total Amount Paid by Company. £1,385 s.18 d.3 Note. - The Policy-holder in each case was insured against death during the ten years, and being alive at the maturity of the Policy, he received an amount equivalent to the refund of all he had invested, with nearly five per cent. compound interest ; thus his insurance during the ten years most him nothing. While the foregoing examples are so favourable, they are not to be considered as promises or guarantees of future results. The Latest Advance in Life Insurance. Non-Forfeiting Limited-Tontine Policies. These Policies combine the Non-Forfeiture features, originated by the NEW-YORK LIFE in 1860, with the Privileges and Profits of its popular "Tontine Investment Policy." The popularity attained by this Company's Non-Forfeiture Policies, and the gratifying results, as well as popularity of its Tontine Investment Policies, have led the NEW-YORK LIFE to combine the essential features of both in its Non-Forfeiting Limited-Tontine Policy. This Policy, which provides against loss in case of default in payment of premium after three years, by the guarantee of a paid-up Policy, is now confidently offered by this Company. PROMINENT FEATURES. 1. Term Insurance at low rates, with surplus accumulations at compound interest? 2. The privilege of continuing your insurance at original rates after your Tontine Period expires? 3. The entire Cash Value of your Policy in Ten, Fifteen, or Twenty years, on the basis of full legal reserve? 4. A grace of one month in payment of premiums (subject to a fine), during which time your indemnity will be unimpaired? 5. Protection against loss, in case of default in payment of premium after three years, by the guarantee of a paid-up Policy - as upon ordinary policies? Prospectus, containing full information, can be obtained on application. Note. - Estimates have been prepared to illustrate the practical working of Policies on this plan, and may be obtained for any age on application. Annual Bonus Policies. Besides combining the Tontine System with all the ordinary plans of Insurance, the Company issues Policies on the following plans, with Annual Bonuses - ORDINARY LIFE. On this plan the Premiums are continued during the life-time of the Assured, and the amount is payable at death. LIMITED PAYMENT LIFE by 10, 15, or 20 YEARS' PAYMENTS. On these plans, the Premiums cease in 10, 15, or 20 years (according to plan originally chosen), the amounts being payable at death. These Policies continue to participate in Bonuses after all the Premiums have been paid on them. ENDOWMENT by 10, 15, or 20 YEARS' PAYMENTS. On these plans the amounts are payable in 10, 15, or 20 years (according to plan originally chosen) to Assured, or in case of previous death to their representatives. Annuities. This Company grants ANNUITIES upon more favourable rates than British Companies, the higher rate of interest obtained by their investments in first-class American securities enabling them to do so. RATE FOR £100 ANNUITY. AGES. 50. MALES ... ... £1,254 s.18 d.0 AGES. 60. MALES ... ... £975 s.0 d.0 AGES. 70. MALES ... ... £1,041 s.4 d.0 AGES. 50. FEMALES ... ... £1,2309 s.0 d.0 AGES. 60. FEMALES ... ... £1,041 s.4 d.0 AGES. 70. FEMALES ... ... £763 s.4 d.0 Extract from the 26th Annual Report OF THE Superintendent of the Insurance Department of the State of New York, March 24th, 1885. . . . . The Companies that have survived these disastrous periods present a financial growth that stands unrivalled in the history of monetary institutions, and with a prospect of continued prosperity that will scarcely admit of comparison. The payment of $897,272,182 to beneficiaries, and invested account of $491,487,719, entitle the trustees to a reward which no personal expression will compensate. The achievement of this grand success belongs to no one who has passed away, for the men who are identified with it continue to labour unceasingly in their trust. It is such an easy task to criticise the Companies without cause that it is not a surprise to find so many critics; the wonder is that there should be a limit to their number. But so it is, when either individuals or Corporations have succeeded in business, the professional carper prepares himself to hint - for his own safety it never gets beyond innuendo - that something must be wrong. . . . . These facts are cited to show that within the Companies there is no discontent to be found. The trouble is with those who are not with them, but want to be. Nevertheless, the organisations will doubtless continue to add new members and command patronage.ADVANTAGES OFFERED BY THE NEW YORK LIFE INSURANCE COMPANY. ---------------------------------------- 1st.— It is a MUTUAL COMPANY, AND NO LIABILITY IS INCURRED BY ITS POLICY HOLDERS. There are no Shareholders. Profits are divided annually among the Policy Holders only. 2nd.— BONUSES can be used to reduce the second and following years' premiums, or to increase the amount of Policy. 3rd.— BONUSES are larger and Rates on the average lower than British Companies, owing to the higher rate of interest obtained on first-class investments in America. 4th.— SECURITY is guaranteed by the stringent laws of New York, which restrict Investments, fix a positive standard of solvency, and require a rigid annual examination to be made by the Government Insurance Department. 5th.— STABILITY. The accumulated funds, December 31st, 1884, were £12,127,930 securely invested. The annual income is £2,846,245, and the surplus over reserve and all liabilities £2,036,332. 6th.— The TONTINE POLICIES of this Company practically combine Life Insurance with and Investment or an Annuity, at the ordinary premium rates. 7th.— ANNUITIES. The amounts required to purchase these are lower on the average than those charged by British Companies. 8th..— LIBERALITY in payment of claims. The Records of the Company show many acknowledgments of its liberality and fairness in the payment of claims. There are no Shareholders, and consequently no interests adverse to those of the Policy Holders. 9th.— CLAIMS are payable in London in sterling, and all disputed claims (in case any should arise) in Great Britain are to be decided by the British Courts. ---------------------------------------- BRANCH OFFICES: BIRMINGHAM — 121, Colmore Row. DISTRICT MANAGER — J. H. PIPER. BRISTOL — Baldwin Chambers. DISTRICT MANAGER — W. H. COULTAS. EXETER — 16, The Arcade. DISTRICT MANAGER — W. R. COLLINSON. LIVERPOOL — B4, Exchange. DISTRICT MANAGER — A. DRUMMOND HENDERSON. MANCHESTER — Albany Chambers, St. Ann's Square/ DISTRICT MANAGER — W. A. MURRAY. NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE — 13, Mosley Street. DISTRICT MANAGER — W. H. HALL. NOTTINGHAM — Eskell Chambers, Market Place. DISTRICT MANAGER — FRANK R. GOUGH. YORKSHIRE AND DURHAM — 15, Bridge Street, BRADFORD. DISTRICT MANAGER — W. H. HAYWARD. ---------------------------------------- GLASGOW — Herald Buildings, 69, Buchanan Street. MANAGER FOR SCOTLAND — W. E. HERBERT, F.S.S. EDINBURGH — 31, Princes Street. AGENT — PATRICK TURNBULL. ---------------------------------------- BELFAST — St. Ann's Buildings. DISTRICT AGENT — JAMES A. MONCRIEFF. ---------------------------------------- MIDLAND RAILWAY PROGRAMME OF TOURIST ARRANGEMENTS AUGT 1ST 1885 & UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE TOURIST TICKETS ARE ISSUED AT ST. PANCRAS STATION MOORGATE STREET STATION VICTORIA (L C. D.) " [ENTISH?????] TOWN " [ST.?????] REGENT CIRCUS, PICCADILLY. GRAND HOTEL BUILDINGS, TRAFALGAR SQUARE. COOK'S EXCURSION OFFICES, LUDGATE CIRCUS & EUSTON ROAD. MIDLAND OFFICES — 445, WEST STRAND. 5, TRAFALGAR BUILDINGS, TRAFALGAR SQUARE. 10a, NEW BOND STREET. GLOUCESTER OFFICE, 495, OXFORD STREET. ---------------------------------------- [3RD?????] CLASS TICKETS, ORDINARY AND TOURIST, ARE ISSUED BY ALL TRAINS OVER THE MIDLAND RAILWAY. ---------------------------------------- JOHN NOBLE. GENERAL MANAGER.2 CONTENTS. TOURIST ARRANGEMENTS - OMNIBUS ARRANGEMENTS ............ PAGE 2 IRELAND .. .. .. .. .. .. 3 YORKSHIRE WATERING PLACES....... 4 PEAK OF DERBYSHIRE .. .. .. 4 MAP OF PEAK OF DERBYSHIRE ....... 5 SCOTLAND .. .. .. .. .. .. 6 " . ................................ 7 MAP OF SCOTLAND .. .. .. .. 8 & 9 TRAIN SERVICE FROM LONDON ....... 10 TRAIN SERVICE TO LONDON ............ PAGE 11 LAKE DISTRICT .. .. .. .. .. 12 MAP OF LAKE DISTRICT ................ 13 MALVERN AND BRECON .. .. .. .. 14 LANCASHIRE SEA COAST ................ 14 ISLE OF MAN .. .. .. .. .. .. 14 GENERAL CONDITIONS .................... 15 NEW ROUTE TO SCOTLAND .. .. .. 16 WEST END AND CITY BOOKING OFFICES .... 16 OMNIBUSES FOR THE USE OF FAMILY PARTIES TRAVELLING BY MIDLAND RAILWAY. THE PUBLIC ARE INFORMED THAT THE MIDLAND RAILWAY COMPANY PROVIDE SINGLE HORSE OMNIBUSES capable of carrying Six Persons inside and Two outside, with the usual quantity of Luggage. to meet the Express and other principal Trains at the ST. PANCRAS STATION, when PREVIOUSLY ORDERED. These Vehicles must be ENGAGED, either by written application to the Station Master at St. Pancras Station, or, by giving notice to the Station Master at the Starting point (if a Midland Station), or at ANY STATION EN ROUTE NOT LESS THAN 30 MILES FROM LONDON, so that a telegram may be sent to St. Pancras to have the required Vehicle in readiness. The Omnibuses will also be sent to the Hotels or Residences of PARTIES LEAVING LONDON BY MIDLAND RAILWAY, on application being made to the Station Master at St. Pancras, stating the Train by which it is intended to leave St. Pancras. Charge per Mile 1/-, minimum charge 3/-, if one Horse only is provided; or 1/6 per mile, minimum charge 4/6, when two Horses are required. FAMILY LUGGAGE. - Arrangements have been made for carting to the Station, at low rates, the Luggage of Families intending to travel by the Midland Railway, and also for forwarding such Luggage by Passenger Train in advance when required. The charge for the conveyance by Passenger Train is at the rate of 6d. per mile, for any weight up to 50 cwt., with a minimum charge of 20s. and exclusive of a small charge for collection and delivery. NOTICE. - Passengers by the Midland Railway desirous of obtaining Tickets for themselves and families, prior to the date on which they intend to travel, can do so on application to the Agent at St. Pancras Station, or at any of the West End and City Offices, at which Tourist Tickets are issued. Tickets for Horses, Carriages, and Dogs may also be similarly obtained, on application to the Agent at St. Pancras. OMNIBUSES BETWEEN ST. PANCRAS STATION and the MIDLAND GRAND HOTEL and CHARING CROSS and WaATERLOO STATIONS. A SERVICE OF OMNIBUSES has been established between ST. PANCRAS & CHARING CROSS & WATERLOO STATIONS for the accommodation of Passengers travelling between the Midland and South Eastern and London and South Western Railways, and to and from the Midland Grand Hotel. The Omnibuses will meet the Principal Trains and can be used by the General Public between any places on the route, which will be as under :- Judd Street Brunswich Square Russell Square Southampton Row Great Queen Street Long Acre St. Martin's Lane Trafalgar Square The Strand Waterloo Bridge And will call or set down at Morley's Hotel, Grand Hotel, Golden Cross Hotel, and Haxell' Royal Exeter Hotel when required. Passengers holding Through Tickets between Stations on the Midland and South Eastern and London and South Western Railways, will be conveyed by the Omnibuses Free of Charge, other Passengers are charged 3d. each. Derby, 1885. JOHN NOBLE, General-Manager.4 Third Class Ordinary and Tourist Tickets are issued by All Trains. SCARBORO', HARROGATE, ILKLEY, FILEY, &c. FARES FOR THE DOUBLE JOURNEY FROM St. Pancras Kentish Town Moorgate Street Victoria (L. C. & D.) 445, West Strand 10A, New Bond Street Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford Street 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Sq. 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly. 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Sq. Ludgate Circus and Euston Road Tourist Tickets, available for return on any day up to the 31st December are issued to Iikley, Ben Rhydding .......... 1st Class. 55/0 3rd Class. 27/0 Harrogate .......... 1st Class. 55/0 3rd Class. 27/0 Scarboro', Whitby, Filey .......... 1st Class. 61/0 3rd Class. 34/0 Bridlington .......... 1st Class. 58/0 3rd Class. 31/0 Withernsea, Hornsea .......... 1st Class. 55/0 3rd Class. 28/0 Saltburn, Redcar, Seaton-Carew ........ 1st Class. 64/0 3rd Class. 36/0 Tynemouth, Whitley, Cullercoats, ..... 1st Class. 78/6 3rd Class. 40/0 Berwick .......... 1st Class. 94/0 3rd Class. 49/6 Barnard Castle .......... 1st Class. 70/2 3rd Class. 36/0 Hexham .......... 1st Class. 81/8 3rd Class. 42/0 Gilsland .......... 1st Class. 87/6 3rd Class. 45/0 New Biggin .......... 1st Class. 84/0 3rd Class. 43/0 Bilton .......... 1st Class. 85/4 3rd Class. 44/0 Tickets issued at 445, West Strand: 10A New Bond Street ; Gloucester Office, 495 Oxford Street ; 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square ; Ludgate Circus : Euston Road ; 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly ; and 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square, are available from St. Pancras or Kentish Town, but the Fares do not include conveyance between those Offices and the Railway Stations. HARROGATE. - Tickets are issued via Leeds, via Normanton, or via Pontefract. Passengers are requested to state by which route they wish to travel, and take tickets accordingly. ILKLEY. - Passengers for Ilkley and Ben Rhydding may break the journey at Leeds, the tickets being available for travelling between Leeds and Ilkley or Ben Rhydding, by the Trains of either the Midland or North Eastern Companies. SCARBORO', &c. - Passengers holding Tickets to Scarboro', Whitby, Filey, Bridlington, or Saltburn, may return from any one of these Stations, on payment of the Ordinary Fare from the Station for which the Ticket was originally issued, to the Station from which the holder desires to return. BREAK OF JOURNEY. - Passengers with Tickets for Scarboro or Whitby, may break the journey at York or Malton ; for Barnard Castle, at York or Darlington ; for Saltburn, Redcar, or Seaton, at York ; for Tynemouth, Whitley, Cullercaots, Hexham, Gilsland, Newbiggin, and Bilton, at York, Darlington, Durham, or Newcastle ' for Berwick, at York, Darlington, Durham, Newcastle, Bilton, or Belford ; for Filey or Bridlington, at York, Malton, or Hull ; and for Withernsea or Hornsea, at Hull. BUXTON, MATLOCK, AND ASHBOURNE. The Midland Co.'s Line to Buxton passes (via Matlock) through upwards of 20 miles of the most interested portion of the Peak of Derbyshire. Through Carriages run between London & Buxton by the principal Trains. Fares for the Double Journey to From St. Pancras, Kentish Town .. BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From 445, West Strand .......... BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From 10A, New Bond Street ...... BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford St. 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square ........ BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From Ludgate Circus ............ BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From Euston Road ........... BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly .. BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square ....... BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 43/4 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 38/4 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 39/6 3rd Class 20/9 From Moorgate Street ........ BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 44/0 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 39/0 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 40/2 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 40/2 3rd Class 21/0 From Victoria (L. C. & D.) ........ BUXTON. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 44/0 3rd Class 24/0 MATLOCK. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class 39/0 3rd Class 21/0 ASHBOURNE for Dovedale). Available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 40/2 3rd Class 21/3 ALTON. Tickets available for Two Calendar Months. 1st Class 40/2 3rd Class 21/0 Tickets issued at 445, West Strand ; 10A, New Bond Street ; Gloucester Office, 495 Oxford Street; 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square ; Ludgate Circus ; Euston Road ; 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly ; and 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square, are available from St. Pancras or Kentish Town, but the Fares do not include conveyance between those Offices and the Railway Stations. BUXTON. - Tickets are available for breaking the journey at any Station between Ambergate and Buxton, including Matlock, Rowsley, Bakewell, Hassop, Longstone, Monsale Dale, and Miller's Dale, both in going and returning, the only condition being that the holder travels only once in the same direction between the same Stations, and returns to the Station at which the Ticket was taken within the period for which it is available ; but the Tickets will be available for returning unless they have been endorsed at Buxton, or at the last Station at which the journey is broken, on the day of the return. MATLOCK. - Tickets are available to and from Matlock-Bath or Matlock-Bridge, and will not be available for the return journey unless endorsed at one of those Stations (or at Bakewell or Rowsley on payment of the ordinary are to Matlock) on the day of return. ASHBOURNE AND ALTON. - Passengers trace via Derby or Burton, and may break the journey ay Leicester or Derby. The above arrangements will afford Parties a favourable opportunity for visiting the Towns and interesting Localities in the Peak District, amongst which may be enumerated, Castleton, Bakewell, Chatsworth, Edensor, Baslow, and Haddon Hall. For General Conditions, see Page 15. 5 [Map image of] MIDLAND RAILWAY DERBY, MATLOCK, BUXTON, & THE PEAK DISTRICT. Midland Railroad shown [bold solid line] Railways in Direct communication with Midland System [dashed line] Other Railways [light solid line]6 Third Class Ordinary and Tourist Tickets are issued by All Trains. By the Route SCOTLAND via Settle and Carlisle. FARES for the DOUBLE JOURNEY from ST. PANCRAS ; KENTISH TOWN; 445, WEST STRAND ; 10A, NEW BOND ST. ; GLOUCESTER OFFICE, 495, OXFORD ST. ; 5, TRAFALGAR BUILDINGS, TRAFALGAR SQUARE ; LUDGATE CIRCUS ; EUSTON ROAD ; 28, REGENT CIRCUS, PICCADILLY ; & 8, GRAND HOTEL BUILDINGS, TRAFALGAR SQUARE. Tourist Tickets Available to return on any day up to 31st December are issued to Aberdeen ................. 1st Class. 133/6 3rd Class. 56/0 Aberfeldy .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 132/3 3rd Class. 56/10 Achnasheen (for Loch Maree) ..... 1st Class. 157/6 3rd Class. 67/6 Arbroath .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 128/3 3rd Class. 56/0 Ardrossan ................... 1st Class. 110/3 3rd Class. 52/0 Ayr ..... .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 107/2 3rd Class. 50/0 Ballater ....................... 1st Class. 143/3 3rd Class. 62/10 Boat of Garden .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 147/10 3rd Class. 60/0 Beattock ..................... 1st Class. 92/3 3rd Class. 48/3 Brechin .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 133/0 3rd Class. 56/0 Bridge of Allan ............ 1st Class. 115/0 3rd Class. 54/0 Callander .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 118/6 3rd Class. 54/0 Castle Douglas ........... 1st Class. 95/9 3rd Class. 49/0 Coldstream .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 96/8 3rd Class. 50/0 Connell Ferry .............. 1st Class. 131/9 3rd Class. 63/6 Crieff .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 121/6 3rd Class. 54/0 Dalmally ..................... 1st Class. 129/93rd Class. 62/0 Dingwall .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/0 3rd Class. 63/1 Dumfries .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 90/2 3rd Class. 47/6 Dunblane .................. 1st Class. 115/0 3rd Class. 54/0 Dundee .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 125/3 3rd Class. 56/0 Dunkeld .................... 1st Class. 127/8 3rd Class. 54/0 EDINBURGH .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 109/6 3rd Class. 50/0 Elgin ......................... 1st Class. 148/6 3rd Class. 60/0 Fairlie .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 112/8 3rd Class. 52/0 Forfar ...................... 1st Class. 130/3 3rd Class. 56/0 Forres .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/0 3rd Class. 60/0 GLASGOW .............. 1st Class. 110/3 3rd Class. 52/0 Golspie .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 165/0 3rd Class. 72/6 Greenock ................ 1st Class. 112/9 3rd Class. 52/0 Helensburgh .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 112/9 3rd Class. 52/0 Helmsdale ............... 1st Class. 170/0 3rd Class. 75/0 Inverness .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/0 3rd Class. 60/0 Keith ........................ 1st Class. 147/6 3rd Class. 60/0 Killin .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 122/7 3rd Class. 58/6 Lairg ........................ 1st Class. 160/0 3rd Class. 70/0 Largs .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 113/4 3rd Class. 52/0 Larbert ................... 1st Class. 112/0 3rd Class. 52/0 Loch Awe .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 130/3 3rd Class. 62/6 Melrose .................. 1st Class. 99/6 3rd Class. 50/0 Moffat .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 92/10 3rd Class. 48/6 Montrose ................ 1st Class. 133/0 3rd Class. 56/0 Nairn .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/0 3rd Class. 60/0 Newton Stewart ...... 1st Class. 100/0 3rd Class. 49/0 Oban, via Greenock, or Helensburgh .. 1st Class. 130/0 3rd Class. 63/0 Oban, via Dalmally. .. .. .. 1st Class. 131/3 3rd Class. 63/6 Oban (Circular Tour). .. .. .. 1st Class. 132/11 3rd Class. 64/0 Peebles ................... 1st Class. 104/9 3rd Class. 50/0 Perth ....................... 1st Class. 123/2 3rd Class. 54/0 Pitlochry .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 131/2 3rd Class. 56/0 St. Andrews ............ 1st Class. 121/9 3rd Class. 56/0 Stirling .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 114/3 3rd Class. 53/6 Stranaer ................. 1st Class. 100/0 3rd Class. 49/0 Strome Ferry .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 164/9 3rd Class. 70/0 Struan .................... 1st Class. 134/4 3rd Class. 57/10 Taynuilt .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 131/3 3rd Class. 63/0 Thurso ................... 1st Class. 184/6 3rd Class. 83/0 Wemyss Bay .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 113/9 3rd Class. 53/3 West Kilbride ......... 1st Class. 111/5 3rd Class. 52/0 Wick .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 186/9 3rd Class. 84/0 FARES for the DOUBLE JOUREY from MOORGATE STREET VICTORIA (L. C. & D.) Tourist Tickets Available to return on any day up to 31st December are issued to Aberdeen ................. 1st Class. 134/2 3rd Class. 56/0 Aberfeldy .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 132/11 3rd Class. 56/10 Achnasheen (for Loch Maree) ..... 1st Class. 158/2 3rd Class. 67/6 Arbroath .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 128/11 3rd Class. 56/0 Ardrossan ................... 1st Class. 110/11 3rd Class. 52/0 Ayr ..... .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 107/10 3rd Class. 50/0 Ballater ....................... 1st Class. 143/11 3rd Class. 62/10 Boat of Garden .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 148/6 3rd Class. 60/0 Beattock ..................... 1st Class. 92/11 3rd Class. 48/3 Brechin .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 133/8 3rd Class. 56/0 Bridge of Allan ............ 1st Class. 115/8 3rd Class. 54/0 Callander .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 119/2 3rd Class. 54/0 Castle Douglas ........... 1st Class. 96/5 3rd Class. 49/0 Coldstream .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 97/4 3rd Class. 50/0 Connell Ferry .............. 1st Class. 132/5 3rd Class. 63/6 Crieff .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 122/2 3rd Class. 54/0 Dalmally ..................... 1st Class. 130/5 3rd Class. 62/0 Dingwall .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/8 3rd Class. 63/1 Dumfries .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 90/10 3rd Class. 47/6 Dunblane .................. 1st Class. 116/2 3rd Class. 54/0 Dundee .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 125/11 3rd Class. 56/0 Dunkeld .................... 1st Class. 128/4 3rd Class. 54/0 EDINBURGH .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 110/2 3rd Class. 50/0 Elgin ......................... 1st Class. 149/2 3rd Class. 60/0 Fairlie .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 113/4 3rd Class. 52/0 Forfar ...................... 1st Class. 130/11 3rd Class. 56/0 Forres .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/8 3rd Class. 60/0 GLASGOW .............. 1st Class. 110/11 3rd Class. 52/0 Golspie .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 165/8 3rd Class. 72/6 Greenock ................ 1st Class. 113/5 3rd Class. 52/0 Helensburgh .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 113/5 3rd Class. 52/0 Helmsdale ............... 1st Class. 170/8 3rd Class. 75/0 Inverness .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/8 3rd Class. 60/0 Keith ........................ 1st Class. 148/2 3rd Class. 60/0 Killin .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 123/3 3rd Class. 58/6 Lairg ........................ 1st Class. 160/8 3rd Class. 70/0 Largs .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 114/0 3rd Class. 52/0 Larbert ................... 1st Class. 112/8 3rd Class. 52/0 Loch Awe .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 130/11 3rd Class. 62/6 Melrose .................. 1st Class. 100/2 3rd Class. 50/0 Moffat .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 93/6 3rd Class. 48/6 Montrose ................ 1st Class. 133/8 3rd Class. 56/0 Nairn .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 150/8 3rd Class. 60/0 Newton Stewart ...... 1st Class. 100/8 3rd Class. 49/0 Oban, via Greenock, or Helensburgh .. 1st Class. 130/11 3rd Class. 63/0 Oban, via Dalmally. .. .. .. 1st Class. 132/11 3rd Class. 64/0 Oban (Circular Tour). .. .. .. 1st Class. 131/11 3rd Class. 63/6 Peebles ................... 1st Class. 105/5 3rd Class. 50/0 Perth ....................... 1st Class. 123/11 3rd Class. 54/0 Pitlochry .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 131/10 3rd Class. 56/0 St. Andrews ............ 1st Class. 122/5 3rd Class. 56/0 Stirling .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 114/11 3rd Class. 53/6 Stranaer ................. 1st Class. 100/8 3rd Class. 49/0 Strome Ferry .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 165/5 3rd Class. 70/0 Struan .................... 1st Class. 135/0 3rd Class. 57/10 Taynuilt .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 131/11 3rd Class. 63/0 Thurso ................... 1st Class. 185/2 3rd Class. 83/0 Wemyss Bay .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 114/5 3rd Class. 53/3 West Kilbride ......... 1st Class. 112/1 3rd Class. 52/0 Wick .. .. .. .. .. .. 1st Class. 187/5 3rd Class. 84/0 Tickets issued at 445, West Strand ; 10A, New Bond Street ; Gloucester Office, 495 Oxford Street ; 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square ; Ludgate Circus ; Euston Road ; 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly ; and 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square, are available from St. Pancras or Kentish Town, but the Fares do not include conveyance between those Offices and the Railway Stations. Third Class Ordinary and Tourist Tickets are issued by All Trains. 7 SCOTLAND - (CONTINUED). ROUTES. - Passengers travel to Carlisle by the Midland Company's Route via Settle. They are requested to state at the time of booking by what route they wish to travel North of Carlisle. Tourist tickets for Dundee and Stations North thereof are issued via Granton and Broughty by the Forth Ferry Route ; via Edinburgh, Stirling, and Broughty ; via Edinburgh, Larbert, Dunblane and Perth ; and via Carstairs and Dunblane. To Keith and Elgin tickets are issued either via Dunkeld and Forres, or via Dunkeld and Craigellachie, or via Aberdeen. Passengers must state at the time of booking by which route they select to travel. The holders of Tourist tickets from Stations in England to Montrose, Brechin, Aberdeen, Keith, and Stations beyond, via Dunblane and Aberdeen, can travel via Coupar Angus, or via Dundee, in either direction. Passengers for Stirling, Perth, Dundee, Dunked, Pitlochry, Aberdeen, Inverness, Oban, and other Stations North of Glasgow, can be booked to travel via Glasgow, by the Glasgow and South Western Railway, via Dumfries and the "Land of Burns," proceeding from Glasgow direct to the North, either by the North British Railway from Queen Street Station (except in the case of Stations West of Callander), or by the Caledonian Railway from Buchanan Street Station. Passengers may break the journey at any Station en route North Carlisle. Passengers for the same places, travelling via Glasgow by the Glasgow and South Western Route, and thence from Queen Street Station by the North British Railway, may obtain tickets giving the holders the option of either proceeding direct to the North via Larbert, or of travelling via Edinburgh, either on the outward or return journey, or both, breaking the journey at Edinburgh going and returning if they wish, as well as at Glasgow, and any other place on their journey. Passengers can also be booked to the same places by the Waverly Route, through the "Land of Scott," via Edinburgh, and the holders of tickets by this route may travel to Glasgow by the North British Railway, without extra payment, if they wish to visit that City, returning to Edinburgh, or proceeding direct to the North via Larbert, if their tickets are routed via Larbert. The same privilege, if desired, is allowed on the return journey, and the journey may be broken at both Edinburgh and Glasgow, as well as at any other place on the journey. Passengers are requested to state at the time of booking by which route they wish to travel. EXPRESS TRAINS AND PULLMAN CARS. - A New Service of Express Trains has been established between London and Scotland via Settle and Carlisle, with connections from Bristol and the West of England. By the Day Express Trains between London and Scotland in each direction, Pullman Parlour Cars run between London and Glasgow and Edinburg, and by the Night Express Trains Pullman Sleeping Cars are run between the same points, and also between London (St. Pancras), and Greenock and Perth. First Class Passengers are allowed to ride in the Parlour Cars attached to the Day Express Trains without extra payment, but for the Sleeping Cars, a small additional charge is made, particulars of which may be obtained at the Stations. Passengers between English and Scotch Stations not on the direct Line can change into the Cars at most convenient Junctions. BREAK OF JOURNEY. - Passengers may break the journey, either going or returning at Bedford, Leicester, Nottingham, Birmingham, Derby, Ambergate (for the Peak of Derbyshire), Sheffield, Normanton, Leeds, Skipton, Hellifield, Appleby, or Langwathby (for Penrith and the Lake District), and Carlisle. North of Carlisle Passengers will be at liberty to break their journey at any Station on the on the route directly covered by the Tickets they hold. Passengers to places North of Edinburgh and Glasgow may break their journey at Edinburg and Glasgow. The break of journey may be made both going and returning, and without restriction as to period except that the return journey must be completed within the time for which the ticket is available. NOTICE. - Tickets are not available by the Limited Mall Trains of the Caledonian Company. GLASGOW. - Tickets to Glasgow are issued for the holders to travel from Carlisle by the direct Glasgow and South Western route, via Dumfries and Kilmarnock ; or by the North British Waverly route, via Melrose and Edinburgh. Passengers are requested to state by which route they desire to travel at the time of booking. EXCURSIONS THROUGH SCOTLAND. - Tickets are issued daily at Edinburgh, Glasgow, Melrose, Dumfries, Ayr, Aberdeen, and Inverness, for Tours and Excursions through Scotland. ABBOTSFORD. - Passengers holding Tickets to Edinburgh and places beyond by the Waverly Route, are permitted to break their journey at Melrose, for Abbotsford and Melrose Abbey ; and at St. Boswell's, for Dryburgh Abbey. KEITH, ELGIN. - Tickets are issued via Dunkel and Forres, or via Dunkeld and Craigellachie or via Aberdeen. Passengers must state at the time of booking by which route they wish to travel. INVERNESS. - Tickets are issued either by the Highland Route, via Dunkeld and Forres, or via Aberdeen. FALLS OF CLYDE. - Holders of tickets travelling via the Caledonian Railway are at liberty to break their journey at Carstairs, for the Falls of Clyde. LAKE DISTRICT. - Passengers wishing to combine a Tour of the English Lake District with Scotland, can, on application, obtain tickets available via Carnforth or Lancaster, with which they may break their journey at Oxenholme or Carnforth to visit the Lake District ; resuming the journey to Carlisle, via Penrith. SCARBORO', HARROGATE, WHITBY, FILEY, & BRIDLINGTON. - Passengers taking Tourist Tickets to Scotland, and wishing to combine a visit to Harrogate, Scarboro', and other Watering Places on the East Coast with Scotland, may break their journey either going or returning at Normanton or Leeds, for the purpose of visiting those places ; or they may obtain Tourist tickets to Edinburgh, Glasgow, and places north thereof, via Berwick, available for breaking the journey at York for the same purpose. OBAN CIRCULAR TOUR. - Tickets are issued for this Tour available on the outward journey via Greenock or via Glasgow, as the case may be, & thence by Mr. D. McBrayne's Royal Mail Steamers "Iona," or "Columba," returning by rail throughout, via Dalmally and Callander ; or on the outward jouneyr by rail throughout, via Callander and Dalmally, returning by steamer via Greenock and Glasgow. The tickets will be issued and available as between the issuing Stations and Greenock and Glasgow, by the same routes as the Tourist tickets issued to those places respectively, and as between the issuing Stations and Oban for the Railway journey throughout, either via Carlisle, Waverly Route, and Edinburgh, or via Carlisle and Carstairs, according to the route selected. OBAN. - Passengers are booked by the undermentioned routes, and they are requested to state at the time of booking by which they select to travel : - (1) Via Greenock or Glasgow, and thence by My. MacBrayne's Royal Mail Steamers, "Iona or "Columba." (2) Via Waverly route, Melrose, Edinburgh, Glasgow, or Craigendoran Pier and thence by the same Steamers. (3) By rail throughout via Callander and Dalmally. The above facilities and arrangements as regards Passengers breaking the journey apply equally to 1st and 3rd Class Passengers. For General conditions, see Page 15.12 Third Class Ordinary and Tourist Tickets are issued by all Trains. LAKE DISTRICT. TOURIST TICKETS Fares for the Double Journey from available for St. Pancras. Kentich town. TWO MONTHS, 445, West Strand. 10A, New Bond Street. are issued to Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford Street Moorgate Street 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Ludgate Circus. Euston Rd. 28. Regent Circus. Piccadilly Victoria (L. C. & D.) 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square 1sr Class. 3rd Class. 1st Class. 3rd Class Grange-in-Cartmel-over-Sands. . . . . . . . . . . 69/1 35/1 69/9 35/1 Windermere, Ulverstone, Furness Abbey . . 73/4 37/6 74/0 37/6 Bowness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74/4 38/6 75/0 38/6 Ambleside or Coniston Lake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76/4 39/6 77/0 39/6 † Keswick, Troutbeck (for Ullswater) via } Penrith . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .} 82/2 43/0 82/10 43/0 ‡ Keswick (by Coach from Ambleside) . . . . . 84/10 48/0 85/6 48/0 *Lake District Circular Tour . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86/0 47/0 86/0 47/0 Penrith, Seascale, Ravenglass . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76/6 40/0 77/2 40/0 Carlisle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81/0 42/6 81/8 42/6 Dent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66/6 34/6 67/2 34/6 BREAK OF JOURNEY.—Passengers may break their journey at Leicester, Derby, Leeds, or Skipton, and at the following points in addition: at Grange, with tickets for Furness Abbey and Windermere (Lake Side); at Grange, Ulverstone, and Windermere (Lake Side), and any other Station on the Lake, with tickets for Bowness and Ambleside; and at Grange, Ulverstone, Furness Abbey, Barrow, and Broughton, with tickets for Coniston, Seascale, or Ravenglass. DENT.12 Third Class Ordinary and Tourist Tickets are issued by all Trains. LAKE DISTRICT. TOURIST TICKETS Fares for the Double Journey from available for St. Pancras. Kentich town. TWO MONTHS, 445, West Strand. 10A, New Bond Street. are issued to Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford Street Moorgate Street 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Ludgate Circus. Euston Rd. 28. Regent Circus. Piccadilly Victoria (L. C. & D.) 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square 1sr Class. 3rd Class. 1st Class. 3rd Class Grange-in-Cartmel-over-Sands. . . . . . . . . . . 69/1 35/1 69/9 35/1 Windermere, Ulverstone, Furness Abbey . . 73/4 37/6 74/0 37/6 Bowness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74/4 38/6 75/0 38/6 Ambleside or Coniston Lake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76/4 39/6 77/0 39/6 † Keswick, Troutbeck (for Ullswater) via } Penrith . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .} 82/2 43/0 82/10 43/0 ‡ Keswick (by Coach from Ambleside) . . . . . 84/10 48/0 85/6 48/0 *Lake District Circular Tour . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86/0 47/0 86/0 47/0 Penrith, Seascale, Ravenglass . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76/6 40/0 77/2 40/0 Carlisle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 81/0 42/6 81/8 42/6 Dent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66/6 34/6 67/2 34/6 BREAK OF JOURNEY.—Passengers may break their journey at Leicester, Derby, Leeds, or Skipton, and at the following points in addition : at Grange, with tickets for Furness Abbey and Windermere (Lake Side) ; at Grange, Ulverstone, and Windermere (Lake Side), and any other Station on the Lake, with tickets for Bowness and Ambleside ; and at Grange, Ulverstone, Furness Abbey, Barrow, and Broughton, with tickets for Coniston, Seascale, or Ravenglass. DENT.—Passengers travel via Settle, and may break the journey at Leeds or Skipton. CARLISLE.—Passengers travel by the Midland Company's Route via Settle, & may break the journey at Leeds or Skipton, WINDERMERE.—Passengers must state at the time of booking whether they wish to travel via Carnforth and Grange to Lake Side Station, or via Carnforth or Lancaster and Oxenholme to the L. & N. W. Station, and take Tickets accordingly. The Trains via Grange to Lake Side Station run on to the Steamboat Pier, so that Passengers may walk direct from the Railway Carriages on board the Steamers. The tickets to the L. & N. W. Station are available for entering or returning from the Lake District via Keswick or Penrith, on payment of the Ordinary Fare between Oxenholme and Keswick or Penrith. Steamers make the tour of the Lake several times a day at moderate Fares. Coaches run daily between Windermere and Grasmere and Keswick, and in connection with the Lake Steamers from Ambleside to Grasmere, Keswick Station, and Ullswater. Tickets for circular tours in the Lake District by Rail, Coach, and Steamer, available for 7 days, are issued at the Landing Stage on the Windermere Lake and other principal Stations on the Furness Railway. The tour can be made in one day. CONISHEAD PRIORY HYDROPATHIC ESTABLISHMENT.—Passengers holding Tourist Tickets to Coniston, Furness Abbey, or Windemere (Lake Side), may stop or break their journey at Ulverstone, the Station for Conishead Priory. BOWNESS AND AMBLESIDE.—Tickets to Bowness and Ambleside, are issued via Ulverstone and Windermere (Lake Side), thence by Steamer up Windermere Lake, and to Ambleside, via Carnforth, or Lancaster, Oxenholme and Windermere (L. & N. W.) also; Tickets via Windermere (Lake Side) are available by Steamer for one journey from Lake Side to Bowness and Ambleside respectively, and back to the Lake Side Station. Tickets via Windermere (L. & N. W.) to Ambleside are available by Coach for one journey each way from Windermere station either to Ambleside or Low Wood, or by Boat from Bowness Landing Stage. The Coaches run in connection with all Trains. Fares do not include conveyance between the route they wish to travel, and those selecting the Oxenholme route must state further whether they wish to travel between Windermere and Ambleside by Coach or Steamer, tickets being taken accordingly. TOUR OF LAKE DISTRICT.—Passengers holding Tourist tickets to Ambleside, via Carnforth and Windermere (Lake Side) may use them either on the Outward or Return journey to or from Coniston, and those holding tickets to Coniston may use them to or from Ambleside, and Passengers so using their tickets may break the journey at Grange, Ulverstone (for Conishead Priory), Furness Abbey, Barrow, Broughton, Bowness, and Windermere (Lake Side). The Fares do not include conveyance between Coniston and Ambleside. Coaches run daily between Coniston and Ambleside, at moderate Fares. A Steam Gondola makes the tour of Coniston Lake several times a day. †KESWICK.—Tourists Tickets to Keswick and Troutbeck by this route are issued via Appleby in connection with the Service of Trains which has been established between Appleby and Penrith, or via Carnforth, or Ingleton, or Lancaster, and L. & N. W. Railway. Passengers are allowed to break the journey at Penrith, or any station between Penrith and their destination. ‡KESWICK,via Carnforth, Windermere, Lake Side, up Windermere Lake to Ambleside, and thence by Taylor's well-appointed Coaches, which run between Ambleside and Keswick, at or about the following times, subject to the sailing of the Steamers on Windermere Lake:— AMBLESIDE TO KESWICK. KESWISK TO AMBLESIDE Ambleside dep. 10 0 a.m. 3 0 p.m. | KESWICK.... dep. 9 30 a.m. 4 0 p.m. KESWICK..... arr. 1 0 p.m. 6 0 " | AMBLESIDE arr. 12 30 p.m. 7 0 " The Tickets will be available for breaking the journey at Grange; at Lake Side, Bowness, The Ferry, and Low Wood, on Windermere Lake; Ambleside, and Grasmere. The Tickets are available for one journey only each way, by Railway, Steamboat, and Coach. Passengers breaking the Coach Journey at Grasmere must take the risk of there being room on the Coach when they wish to resume their journey. The Tickets are available for Two Calendar Months, but those issued at the end of the Season will be subject to the running of the Coaches, and will only be available for the Coach Journey as long as the Coaches continue to run. SEASCALE (for Calder Abbey, Wast Water, and Scaw-Fell).—Passengers holding these Tickets may break the journey at Grange, Furness Abbey, and Drigg. RAVENGLASS is the Station for Eskdale Valley, Stanley Ghyll Water Fall, &c., &c., Passengers travelling from Ravenglass to these places by the Ravenglass and Eskdale Railway. PENRITH.—Tickets to Penrith are issued via Appleby, via Langwathby, via Carnforth, via Lancaster, or via Ingleton, and Passengers are desired to state at the time of booking by which route they wish to travel. ULLSWATER DISTRICT.—Passengers holding Tourist Tickets to Penrith or Troutbeck (for Ullswater) via Carnforth or via Lancaster, may enter or return from the Lake District, via Windermere (L. & N. W.); but the Fares do not include the cost of conveyance between Windermere and Penrith or Troutbeck. * LAKE DISTRICT CIRCULAR TOUR.—The Tickets issued at these fares enable Passengers to make a Tour of the most interesting portion of the Lake District, travelling by the following route:—via Carnforth, Grange, Windermere (Lake Side), by Steamer up Windermere Lake to Ambleside, thence by Taylor's well-appointed Coaches to Keswick through Grasmere, returning by rail throughout, via Penrith, Appleby, and Settle, or the tour may be made in the reverse direction. The journey may be broken at Grange; at Lake Side, Bowness, The Ferry, and Low Wood, on Windermere Lake; Ambleside, Grasmere, Keswick, Troutbeck (for Patterdale and Ullswater), Penrith, and Appleby. Passengers breaking the journey at Grasmere must take the risk of there being room on the Coach when they wish to resume their journey. The Tickets are available for Two Calendar Months, but those issued at the end of the Season will be subject to the running of the Coaches, and will only be available for the Coach journey as long as the Coaches continue to run. For particulars of the Coaches running between Ambleside and Keswick, see note above referring to booking to Keswick direct. 13 MIDLAND RAILWAY THE LAKE DISTRICT Midland Railway shown Railway in Direct [?] with Midland System Other Railways Scale 12 Miles To An Inch Old Station Settle 14 Third Class Ordinary and Tourist Tickets are issued by All Trains. Lancashire Sea Coast. From St. Pancras Kentish Town; 445, West Straud; 10a, New Bond St.; Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford Street; 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square: Ludgate Circus; Euston Road; 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly; and 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square. Moorgate Street or Victoria (L.C. & D.) Fares for the Double Journey to To Morecambe or Lancaster. Tickets available up to December 31st, 1885. 1st Class. 63/6 64/2 3rd Class. 34/0 34/0 To Southport. Tickets available for Two Months. 1st Class. 57/6 58/2 3rd Class. 31/0 31/0 To BLACKPOOL, FLEETWOOD, LYTHAM, or ST. ANNES-ON-SEA. Tickets available for Two Months. 1st Class. 59/0 59/8 3rd Class. 34/0 3 4/0 SOUTHPORT.--The new route to Southport through the Peak of Derbyshire, via Matlock, Warrington, and Aintree, is now open, and Tickets are issued by this route, available for the holders to break the journey at Matlock or Miller's Dale. Passengers may also be booked to Southport, via Manchester (Central), and thence by the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, but the fares do not include conveyance between the Central and Victoria Stations in Manchester. LYTHAM, BLACKPOOL, ST. ANNES-ON-SEA, AND FLEETWOOD.-- Passengers travel to these places via Manchester (Central), by the Midland Company's picturesque route through the Peak of Derbyshire, proceeding from Manchester (Victoria Station) by the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway, or by the London and North Western Railway. ISLE OF MAN. Tourist Tickets, available for TWO MONTHS, are issued from St. Pancras ; Moorgate Street ; Kentish Town ; Victoria (L. C. and D.) ; 445, West Strand ; 10a, New Bond St. ; Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford Street ; 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square ; Ludgate Circus ; Euston Road ; 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly; and 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square FARES TO DOUGLAS & BACK. 1st Class and Saloon. 68/3 3rd Class and Deck. 34/6 VIA BARROW. -- The Barrow Steam Navigation Company's Powerful Steamers "Manx Queen" (New Steamer). "Manxman," or other First Class Paddle Steamers will ply between Barrow and Douglas as follows :— Until the 10th of October, daily (Sundays excepted), in each direction, leaving Barrow at 1.50 p.m., and Douglas at 8.10 a.m., except during October when the Steamer will leave at 9.0 a.m. These Steamers sail in connection with Fast Trains to and from all parts of the Midland System, for particulars of which see Time Tables. SPECIAL NOTICE.-- During July, August, and a portion of September, an Additional Daily Express Service (Sundays excepted) will be run between Barrow and Douglas, leaving Barrow at 5.30p.m., after arrival of Through Express Train leaving London (St. Pancras) at 10.0 a.m. with connections from all principal places as per Special Bills and Time Tables issued by the Company; and Douglas at 10.45 a.m., arriving at Barrow (Ramsden Dock) in time for Afternoon Express Train to London and all parts of the Midland System. SUPPLEMENTARY BOAT TICKETS -- For the convenience of Passengers taking Third Class tickets on the Railway, and desirous of travelling in the Saloon of the Steamer between Barrow and Douglas, Supplementary Boat tickets may be obtained at Midland Stations on payment of the following amounts: Adults, Single Journey, 3s, ; Return Journey, 5s. Children, Half-Price. Passengers may break their journey at Leeds, Skipton, Grange, Ulverston (for Windermere, Lake Side), and Furness Abbey. Excellent Hotels are attached to the Stations at Leeds and Furness Abbey. The beautiful scenery combining with the sheltered position and safety of the Harbour of Barrow, the ease and comfort with which Pasrengers embark and land at this Port, and the Short Sea Passage, render this the best & favorable route to the Isle of Man. Coupons for Travelling over the Isle of Man Railway. -- At St. Pancras and Moorgate Street, and also at Messrs, Cook & Son's Offices, Books containing Four Coupons each, available for travelling on the Isle of Man Railway Company's System, may be obtained. The Coupons may be used by any Train, and are issued at a reduction upon the Ordinary Fares. The Isle of Man Railway passes through the most interesting portion of the Island, the scenery along the route being unequalled, and Passengers taking advantage of the Coupons will be thus afforded an opportunity of visiting the principal places of interest. VIA LIVERPOOL. -- Passengers travel via Matlock and Stockport through the Peak of Derbyshire, to the Central Station, Liverpool, and may break their journey at Matlock or Liverpool. The fares do not include the cost of conveyance between the Railway Station and the Steamers. Passengers proceed form Liverpool by the Isle of Man Company's Steamers "Monas Queen," (New Steamer) "Mona's Isle," "Ben-my-Chree," "King Orry," "Snaefell," "Tynwald," "Douglas," "Peveril," or "Fenella,' leaving the Prince's Landing Stage every week-day at 1.0 p.m., and Douglas at 9.0 a.m., except on Saturdays and Mondays, during July and August, when the Steamers leave Douglas at 8.0 a.m. SPECIAL SERVICE. -- Every Saturday, during July and August, a special Steamer will leave the Prince's Landing Stage, Liverpool for Douglas at 4.0 p.m., and from Douglas each Monday morning at 1.0 o'clock. SUPPLEMENTARY BOAT TICKETS.-- For the convenience of Passengers taking Third Class Tickets on the Railway, and desirous of travelling in the Saloon of Steamer between Liverpool and Douglas, Supplementary Boat Tickets may be obtained at Midland Stations from which Tourist Tickets are issued on payment of the following amounts: Adults, Single Journey, 3s, Return Journey 5s. Children, Half-Price. MALVERN AND BRECON. Tourist Tickets, available for Two Months, are issued to Fares for the Double Journey from St. Panras. Moorgate Street. Kentish Town. Victoria (L. C. & D.) 5, Trafalgar Buildings. 445, West Strand. 10A, New Bond Street. Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford Street. Euston Road. Ludgate Circus. 28, Regent Circus, Piccadilly. 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square. Malvern...... 1st Class. 38/9 3rd Class. 18/0 Brecon..... 1st Class. 18/0 3rd Class. 27/0 Passengers may break the journey at Birmingham, and in the case of Brecon also at any Station between Worcester and Brecon. Llangorse and Dolgaer Lakes, Breconshire Beacons, Caeryphilly Castle, Llandrindod, &C.— On a production of Brecon Tickets the Brecon and Merthyr and Mid Wales Companies will issue to the holders Return Tickets, at a Single Fare, to any on Station their Lines, thus giving an opportunity of visiting these and other interesting places. There is excellent fishing in the Lakes. The Tickets will be available on the day of issue only. Neath and Brecon Line.—Tickets to Neath and back, at a Single Fare for the Double Journey, available to break the journey at any intermediate Stations, will be issued to the holders of Brecon Tickets on their production at the Booking Office. For General Conditions, see Page 15. 15 Delivery of Passengers' Luggage a their Residences. For the convenience of Passengers travelling by Midland Railway, the Company have now extended their arrangements for the delivery of Passengers' Luggage, so as to enable passengers, if they so desire, to have their Packages forwarded from Nottingham, Sheffeld, Leeds, Braford, Liverpool, and Manchester (within the usual limits), by the Company's Parcels Carts, at an uniform charge of 6d. per Package. No charge will be made for the conveyance of the Luggage by Railway if within the weight allowed to accompany Passengers, free, viz., First Class, 120 lbs.; Third Class, 60 lbs. Any overweight will be charged at the usual excess rate. Passengers desirious of availing themselves of this Delivery Service are requested to have their Packages fully and legibly addressed to the place of delivery, and must produce their Railway Tickets, and prepay the charge for delivery at the time of booking. No delivery on Sundays. GENERAL CONDITIONS. Applicable to the issue and use of Tourist Tickets. These Tourist Tickets are issued by all the Ordinary Trains of the Company, and are available by any Train (except in the case of Tickets issued over the London and North Western and Caledonian Railways, which are not available by the Limited and Irish Mails of those Companies) but the Company do not undertake that the Trains shall start or arrive at the times specified in the Bills, nor will they be accountable for any loss, inconvenience, or injury, which may arise from delays or detention. Passengers booking at Moorgate Street, Victoria (L.C. &D.), join the Main Line Trains at Kentish Town. When taking their Tickets at these Stations, they are requested to ask for Midland Tickets. Tickets issued at 445, West Strand; 10a, New Bond Street; Gloucester Office, 495 Oxford Street; 5. Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square; Cook's Excursion Offices, Ludgate Circus and Euston Road; L.B. &S. C. Co.'s Offices, 28. Regent Circus, Piccadilly, and 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square, are available form St. Pancras or Kentish Town, but the Fares do not include conveyance between those Offices and the Railway Stations. Through Tickets are issued from the Stations on the Metropolitan District Railway West of King's Cross, and from the whole of the Stations on the London, Chatham, and Dover System, both on the Main Line and Metropolitan Extension, - to Kentish Town, where Passengers can take Tourist Tickets and join the Main Line Trains. The Tickets to the places enumerated, with the few exceptions as stated, are available until December 31st, 1885. The Tickets are not transferable, neither will they be recognised for the Return Journey, unless they have been presented and Stamped at the Booking Office of the Station to which they are issued on the day of Return, or The Return portion of the Tourist Tickets may be stamped at, and made available for the holders to commence the Return Journey from the Station to which they were issued, or any Station on the route short of that to which such Tickets were issued, provided the holders return within the time for which the Tickets are available; but should the holders of Tickets available for two months only, not return within the prescribed time, it is absolutely necessary that the return portion of the Ticket be sent to the Station to which they were originally issued, where they will be retained, and extension-of-time Tickets available for the Return Journey, issued in exchange, in accordance with the General Regulations. The Company will not be responsible for sea risks of any kind whatsoever. Unless otherwise stated, these Tickets are not available for any but the Stations named upon them, nor can they in any case be used more than once in the same direction, and the Holder must in all cases start upon the outward journey on the same day, and by the same Train for which the Tickets are taken. Attention must be paid by the Holder of these Tickets, on the Outward Journey, to see that the right half of the Ticket for the Return Journey is retained by them. The Company do not hold themselves liable to make any return to Passengers, who by neglect, or from any other cause, fail to produce their Tickets. The usual weight of luggage, viz. : First Class 120 lbs., Third Class 60 lbs. , will be allowed to each Passenger, and care should be taken to have it properly addressed. Children under Three years of age, Free ; above Three and under Twelve, Half-fare. BREAK OF JOURNEY. -- Holder of Tourist Tickets may break their journey at places mentioned in the programme, BOTH GOING AND RETURNING without restrictions as to period, except that the Return Journey must be completed within the time for which the Tickets are available. Tourists breaking the journey when travelling in the outward direction, are requested to produce both the outward and return halves of their tickets. EXTENSION OF TICKETS.-- The Tickets available for the Return Journey up to December 31st cannot under any circumstances be made available after than date. The Tickets advertised as available for two calendar months only can be extended to return on any day up to the 31st of December, 1885 (or in the case of Tickets issued in connection with Coaches or Steamers up the day to the day on which the Coach or Steamboat Service is discontinued) on payment of the difference between the Tourist Fare and the sum of two Single Fares, except Tickets to Stations in the Interior of Ireland, which cannot be extended beyond the period of Two Months. Dublin and Belfast Tickets can be extended up to December 31st on payment of the difference between the Tourist Fares and the sum of two Single Journey Fares. NOTICE.--Saloon, Family, and Invalid Carriages, fitted with Lavatories, and every convenience, can be secured on a few days notice being given to the Station-Master at St. Pancras Station, or the Superintendent of the line, Derby. Derby, 1885. JOHN NOBLE, GENERAL MANAGER. Actuary.- RICHARD CHARLES FISHER, Esq. PRINTERS : C. & E. LAYTON, LONDON. MIDLAND RAILWAY. ENGLAND and SCOTLAND. Pullman Parlour and Sleeping Cars are run between England and Scotland as under:- PULLMAN PARLOUR CARS 10.35 a.m. St. Pancras to Glasgow and Edinburgh. 10.15 ,, Glasgow to St. Pancras. 10.30 ,, Edinburgh to St. Pancras. Passengers holding First Class Tickets are allowed to ride in the Pullman Parlour Cars WITHOUT EXTRA PAYMENT. PULLMAN SLEEPING CARS. 8.25 p.m. St. Pancras to Greenock, Glasgow, Edinburgh, and Perth. 9.15 p.m. St. Pancras to Edinburgh and Glasgow. 7.35 p.m. Perth to St. Pancras (via Edinburgh). 9.5 and 10.5 p.m. Glasgow to St. Pancras. 9.0 p.m. Greenock to St. Pancras. These Cars are well ventilated, fitted with Lavatory, &c., and accompanied by a Special Attendant, and are unequalled for comfort and convenience in travelling. The extra charge to First Class Passengers for a Berth in the Sleeping Cars between St. Pancras and Scotland has been reduced too 6s. For particulars of the Through Train Service see pages 10 and 11 of the Programme. The Up and Down Day Express Trains stop half-an-hour at Normanton in cases to enable Passengers to dine. A spacious and comfortable Dining Room is provided at that Station for their accommodation. Ten minutes are allowed at Normanton by the Night Scotch Expresses for Passengers to take Refreshments. Through Guards travel between London and Edinburgh and Glasgow by Express Trains in both direction, in charge of the Luggage of Through Passengers. Passengers by this route, by the Express Trains between London and Edinburgh and Glasgow, are conveyed in Through Carriages of the most improved description, fitted with an efficient continuous Automatic Break and all the most approved modern appliances. Ordinary Return Tickets between London and Stations in Scotland are available for the return journey on a ny dat within One Calendar Month from the Date of issue. First and Third Class Tourist Tickets, between Stations in England and Stations in Scotland, available for Return until 31st December, will be issued until 31st October. The Fares, both Ordinary and Tourist, between London and Edinburgh and Glasgow, and many other Stations in Scotland, have ben CONSIDERABLY REDUCED, by the opening of the Midland Company's Route. MIDLAND RAILWAY WEST END & CITY BOOKING OFFICES. FOR THE ISSUE OF TOURIST, EXCURSION, AND ORDINARY TICKETS. For the convenience of Passengers desirous of travelling by the Midland Railway, the Company have opened BOOKING OFFICE at 445. West Strand (opposite Charing Cross Station), 5, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square, 10a, New Bond Street, and Gloucester Office, 495, Oxford Street, Where TOURIST TICKETS may be obtained to Scotland, Scarboro', Harrogate, Ilkley, The Lake District, Isle of Man, Belfast, Morecambe, Southport, Blackpool, and other Watering places on the Yorkshire and Lancashire Coasts, Matlock, Buxton, &c., and ORDINARY TICKETS to these and all principal places on the Midland Railway and Lines in connection. Excursion tickets are also issued at these Offices for all the Midland Company's Cheap Excursion Trains from St. Pancras. The tickets referred to above, are also issued at THOS. COOK & SONS Tourist Offices, Ludgate Circus and Euston Road; and at the London Brighton & South Coast Co.'s Offices, 28 , Regent Circus, Piccadilly, and 8, Grand Hotel Buildings, Trafalgar Square. The tickets issued at these Offices are available for the holders to travel from St. Pancras, or Kentish Town, and are issued at the same Fares as charged from those Stations, and will be dated to suite the convenience of Passengers. Tourist Programmes, Time Tables, and every information respecting the Trains of the Company may be obtained at any of these Offices. Derby, 1885. John Noble, General-Manager Bemrose & Sons, Printers. 23, Old Bailey, London ; and Derby. The Funds now amount to 3,619,661. and Annual Income to 377,000. Established 1825 Economic Life Assurance Society 6, New Bridge Street, Blackfriars, London, E.C. Affords Mutual Assurance with Perfect Security without Individual Liability. Directors. Chairman.- Henry Barnett, Esq. Deputy Chairman. - The Right Hon. Pleydell Bouverie. Robert Crawford Antrobus, Esq. C.H.W. Acourrt Repington, Esq. Charles Arthur Barclay, Esq. Sir George K. Rickards, K.C.B. Michael Biddulph, Esq., M.P. Alfred Sartoris, Esq. Edward Charrington, Esq. Agustus K. Stephenson, Esq., C.B. John Harman, Esq. Right Hon. Lord Sudeley. Secretary- John Ralph Grimes, Esq. Actuary.- Richard Charles Fisher, Esq. Printers: C & E Layton, London.Economic Life Assurance Society. The directors having carefully revised their rates for non-participating assurances, policies may now be effected at proportionately low rates of premium, without profits. The attention of those who desire to effect policies at the lowest present cost, is invited to the society’s new prospectus. BONUS POLICIES. RATES OF PREMIUM. From 9 to 26 per cent. less than those charged by other Life Offices. RESULTS OF ECONOMICAL MANAGEMENT. LARGE BONUSES HAVE BEEN DECLARED. Instances are on record of policies having been trebled by bonuses. SPECIMENS OF POLICIES IN FORCE AT VALUATION, 1883. Policy effected in the year. Age at entry. Sum originally assured. Bonus to 1883 inclusive. Total sum assured. Percentage of bonus on premiums paid. Surrender value of policy and bonus. Equivalent free policy, including bonus to 31st Dec., 1883. £ £ £ £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. 1824 32 1,000 2,013 3,013 145 1 8 2,401 0 0 2,927 0 0 1829 29 500 604 1,104 102 14 10 782 10 0 1,039 0 0 1834 31 600 656 1,256 96 5 8 832 16 0 1,157 0 0 1839 { 43 200 284 484 94 18 8 357 0 0 453 0 0 { 30 1,000 844 1,844 84 15 5 1,064 10 0 1,621 0 0 1844 { 40 1,000 951 1,951 79 11 8 1,235 12 0 1,729 0 0 { 30 1,000 689 1,689 77 16 10 853 16 0 1,404 0 0 1849 { 45 2,000 1,716 3,716 68 6 5 2,298 0 0 3,192 0 0 { 30 500 267 767 68 19 0 320 6 0 585 0 0 1854 47 5,000 3,250 8,250 55 15 10 4,592 6 0 6,613 0 0 { 25 500 189 689 64 12 0 210 8 0 433 0 0 1859 { 51 5,000 3,123 8,123 45 15 5 4,267 16 0 6,122 0 0 { 39 1,000 360 1,360 49 17 5 509 8 0 889 0 0 1864 { 52 1,000 370 1,370 39 6 5 586 8 0 871 0 0 { 36 500 124 624 47 2 10 165 6 0 326 0 0 1869 { 45 4,000 876 4,876 40 13 10 1,287 14 0 2,278 0 0 { 30 4,000 687 4,687 51 15 0 715 10 0 1,723 0 0 1874 { 40 3,000 402 3,402 44 17 0 494 0 0 1,033 0 0 { 25 2,000 227 2,227 58 4 0 180 2 0 354 0 0 The Conditions will be found most liberal as regards— SURRENDER VALUES, PAYMENTS OF CLAIMS, WHOLE WORLD POLICIES, FULLY PAID-UP POLICIES, LIMITS OF FREE RESIDENCE, LOANS ON THE SOCIETY'S POLICIES, REINSTATEMENT OF LAPSED POLICIES. Prospectuses may be obtained on application to the Secretary. ESTABLISHED 1836 LIVERPOOL & LONDON & GLOBE INSURANCE COMPANY FIRE LIFE AND ANNUITIES NEW TABLES Life Insurance NEW CONDITIONS NEW PARTICIPATING CLASS The Assured in the Class have had THE LARGE REVERSIONARY BONUS of £1:15s. per cent per annum added to their Policies at 31st Dec. 1878, and again at 31st Dec. 1883 Prospectus forwarded on application to any of the Offices or Agencies of the Company HEAD OFFICES DALE ST LIVERPOOL AND CORNHILL LONDON PRINTED BY R. & R. CLARK, EDINBURGH.Liverpool & London & Globe Insurance Company The total Funds amount of (pounds) 6,911,400 The All-Important Consideration, both for persons already Insured, and those about to Insure, is THE SAFETY AND SECURITY OF THE COMPANY THE amount of Funds held by this Company, together with the security of a large and wealthy Proprietary, point it out as amongst the most eligible of Offices in the United Kingdom. NO POLICYHOLDER, WHETHER FIRE OR LIFE, IS INVOLVED IN THE SLIGHTEST LIABILITY OF PARTNERSHIP. The Income for 1884 was . . . . (pounds)1,799,991 HEAD OFFICES-DALE STREET, LIVERPOOL; CORNHILL, LONDON BRANCH OFFICES-MANCHESTER, LEEDS, BRISTOL, DUBLIN, GLASGOW, EDINBURGH, BIRMINGHAM, & NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE. Fire Department General Reserve and Fire Re-Insurance Fund, (pound)1,500,000 The Magnitude of the Company's Business enables it to accept Fire risks upon the most favourable terms, the same being rated according to the nature of the risk to be insured. Some risks of a special and complicated nature, such as Mills, to ensure fair and equitable rating, are rated according to Tariffs carefully complied by the Offices, and revised from time to time to meet the altered circumstances affecting any particular class. The majority of risks, however, are subject to no tariff, but are rated by this Company according to their individual merits, based upon the law of average-the principle upon which Insurance Companies are founded. By this law the Company, owing to the large number of risks on its books, is enabled to insure the different classes at their minimum rates. An individual is therefore imprudent to run his own risk, when the Company can relieve him of the danger of loss at the smallest possible cost. APPLICATIONS FOR AGENCIES INVITED LIVERPOOL & London & GLOBE INSURANCE COMPANY LIFE DEPARTMENT Life and Annuity Funds (Pound note)3,650,650 Four-fifths of the Profits of their Class are divided amongst the Participating Assured. Bonuses, when declared, may be applied by addition to the Sum Assured, or by an equivalent Value in Cash, or by a Permanent Reduction in the Annual Premium THE SECOND DIVISION OF PROFITS in the new Participating Series of Life Policies has been made for the term ending 31st December 1883, and the result has been most satisfactory, enabling the Company to declare the large Reversionary Bonus of (pound sign)1:15s. per cent per annum on the Sums Assured by Policies in that Class, being at the same rate as that declared at the preceding Division in 1878. The next valuation will be for the Quin- quennial term ending 31st Dec. 1888, so that the present time is very favourable for effecting Assurances, inasmuch as they will participate for the full number of years they have been in force when the new Division of Profits is made Premium for the whole Term life to secure (pound note)100 at Death. Table A. —Without Bonus. Table B. —With Participation in Profits. Age next Birthday. PAYMENTS. Yearly. Half-Yearly Age next Birthday. PAYMENTS. Yearly. Half-Yearly Age next Birthday. PAYMENTS. Yearly. Half-Yearly Age next Birthday. PAYMENTS. Yearly. Half-Yearly £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. 20 1 12 5 0 16 9 45 3 6 2 1 14 1 20 1 17 8 0 19 6 45 3 16 0 1 19 2 25 1 16 6 0 18 10 50 3 19 6 2 0 11 25 2 2 11 1 2 2 50 4 11 3 2 7 0 30 2 1 8 1 1 6 55 4 18 3 2 10 8 30 2 9 3 1 5 5 55 5 14 8 2 19 0 35 2 8 1 1 4 10 60 6 3 4 3 3 8 35 2 16 3 1 9 0 60 7 5 11 3 15 4 40 2 16 1 1 8 11 65 7 18 9 4 2 2 40 3 5 6 1 13 9 65 9 0 9 4 13 8 All other Descriptions of Assurances at Moderate Rates. Policies may be effected to be made payable during the lifetime of the Assured. ASSURANCES GRANTED on the HALF-PREMIUM SYSTEM. THE NEW CONDITIONS OF ASSURANCE Give increased facilities for Residence, Travel, and Occupation. Maintaining Policies in force Reviving Lapse Policies Prompt Settlement of Claims. Annuities granted on favourable terms. APPLICATIONS FOR AGENCIES INVITEDESTABLISHED 1836 LIVERPOOL & LONDON & GLOBE INSURANCE COMPANY FIRE LIFE AND ANNUITIES NEW TABLES LIFE INSURANCE NEW CONDITIONS --------------------------------------------------------------------- NEW PARTICIPATING CLASS The Assured in this Class have had THE LARGE REVERSIONARY BONUS of £1 : 15s. per cent per annum added to their Policies at 31st Dec. 1878, and again at 31st Dec. 1883 Prospectus forwarded on application to any of the Offices or Agencies of the Company --------------------------------------------------------------------- HEAD OFFICES DATE ST AND CORNHILL LIVERPOOL LONDON --------------------------------------------------------------------- SCOTT'S MIDLOTHIAN OAT FLOUR Is unequalled as the most Wholesome and Nutritious Food FOR INFANTS AND INVALIDS. ------------------------------------- SCOTT'S MIDLOTHIAN OAT FLOUR, which is made entirely from the finest quality of Midlothian Oats, is so purified from the Fibrous Integument, that is has concentrated in it 80 per cent, more flesh and bone forming properties than the finest Oat Meal, which is acknowledged to be the most nutritious of all Cereals. Unlike many preparations sold for Infants' Food, which contain a mixture of Cereals that would require different degrees of boiling to become properly assimilated, SCOTT'S MIDLOTHIAN OAT FLOUR is easily prepared, most satisfying and invaluable in promoting a healthy regularity of system when given to Infants, as it can be used through an ordinary Feeding Bottle by Infants of two weeks' old. For Invalids and Adults, SCOTT'S MIDLOTHIAN OAT FLOUR is unequalled as a satisfying, nourishing, and easily digested food. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED AND USED BY EMINENT PHYSICIANS. USED IN THE LEADING HYDROPATHIC ESTABLISHMENTS. Sold by FAMILY GROCERS and CHEMISTS in Tins of various sizes. Sole Makers : A. & R. SCOTT, Millers, GLASGOW. --------------------------------------------------------------------- CHARING CROSS TURKISH BATHS, NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, [J. & H. NEVILL.] Pronounced to be the FINEST in EUROPE. ADMISSION : 9 a.m. to 7 p.m., 6d; Evening, 7 to 9, 2s. Chiropodist in Attendance and Hairdressing Room attached. SEPARATE BATH FOR LADIES. OPEN ALL DAY. SUNDAYS, 10 a.m. till 1 p.m., 3s. 6d. Also at LONDON BRIDGE and ALDGATE. Prospectus Post Free on application. --------------------------------------------------------------------- JONES & WILLIS, ART WORKERS IN METAL and WOOD for ECCLESIASTICAL and DOMESTIC PURPOSES. Embroiderers and Manufacturers of Textile Fabrics, Church Cushions and Hassocks, &c. MANUFACTURERS AND PATENTEES OF THE HESPERUS LAMP, equal to 45 Candles. Catalogues, containing 1,300 Woodcuts and Special Designs, free on application. New Birmingham Show-Rooms — EDMUND STREET (LATE OF TEMPLE ROW). LONDON {Show Rooms : 43 GT. RUSSELL ST., W.C. (opposite the British Museum). {Works : 260 EUSTON ROAD, N.W., and PORCHESTER ST., BM. --------------------------------------------------------------------- THE GREAT REMEDY For HEADACHE, SEA or BILIOUS SICKNESS, CONSTIPATION, INDIGESTION, LASSITUDE, LOW SPIRITS, HEARTBURN, and FEVERISH COLDS. Prevents and quickly Relieves or Cures the worst form of TYPHUS, SCARLET, JUNGLE, and other FEVERS, PRICKLY HEART, SMALL-POX, MEASLES, ERUPTIVE or SKIN COMPLAINTS, and various other altered CONDITIONS of the BLOOD. 'It 'SAVED MY LIFE,' 'for the Fever had obtained a strong hold on me. In a few days I was quite well.'—Extract from letter of C. FITZGERALD, Esq., formerly Correspondent of the Manchester Guardian in Albania, referring to LAMPLOUGH'S PYRETIC SALINE. CAUTION.—Dr. WISON writes :— 'We all know how much rubbish is put into the market in imitation of it.' Sold by all Chemists and Patent Medicine Dealers, in Bottles at 2s. 6d., 4s. 6d., 11s., and 21s. each. --------------------------------------------------------------------- H. LAMPLOUGH, 11 HOLBORN, LONDON, E.C.BRAND & CO'S. SPECIALTIES FOR INVALIDS. CONCENTRATED BEEF TEA, VEAL, MUTTON & CHICKEN BROTHS; TURTLE SOUP & JELLY, CALFS' FOOT JELLY, MEAT LOZENGES $C. ESSENCES OF [BEEFEY?????] MUTTON VEAL AND CHICKEN. ---------------------------------------------------------------- PRESERVED PROVISIONS FOR YACHTS Soups of all Descriptions. TURTLE SOUP—Clear or Thick. BEEF—Alamode, Hashed, Boiled, Spiced, Stewed, Fillets, Roasted, &c. MUTTON—Roasted, Boiled, Haricot, Hashed, Irish Stew, Cutlets, &c. CHICKEN—Curry, Chicken and Rice, Chicken Broth. ---------------------------------------------------------------- YORKSHIRE PIES, GAME PIES, POTTED MEATS, TONGUES, OXFORD SAUSAGES, &c. ---------------------------------------------------------------- CAUTION ! — BEWARE OF IMITATIONS. EACH CASE BEARS THE FINEST SIGNATURE AND ADDRESS AS UNDER, WITHOUT WHICH NONE ARE GENUINE. LAMB—Roasted, Cutlets, Lamb and Peas, &c. ENTRÈES—Salmi Pheasant, Partridge or Grouse, Roast ditto, Civet of Hare, Curry of Rabbit, &c. 11 LITTLE STANHOPE ST., MAYFAIR, LONDON, W. ---------------------------------------------------------------- BRAND & CO'S. A FINE TONIC AND DIGESTIVE. OWN SAUCE. AN EXCELLENT RELISH FOR ALL KINDS OF SOUPS, MEATS, FISH, ENTREES, &c : SOLE ADDRESS NO. 11, LITTLE STANHOPE ST., HERTFORD ST., MAYFAIR, W. ---------------------------------------------------------------- SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. PRINTERS, NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON.