{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_23529/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_23529","id":"gutenberg_23529","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/23529","summary":null,"tags":["Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine","Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Journals","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","England -- Periodicals","Scotland -- Periodicals"],"text":"Produced by Brendan OConnor, Jonathan Ingram, Louise Pryor\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttp://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images\ngenerously made available by The Internet Library of Early\nJournals.)\n\n\n\n\n\n{Transcriber's note: Spellings are sometimes erratic. A few obvious\nmisprints have been corrected, but in general the original spelling has\nbeen retained. Accents in the French and Spanish passages are\ninconsistent, and have not been standardised. Greek phrases have been\ntransliterated, and are enclosed in + signs +eis Athenas+.}\n\n\n\n\n\nBLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.\n\nNO. CCCXLIV.    JUNE, 1844.     VOL. LV.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  TRADITIONS AND TALES OF UPPER LUSATIA. NO. I. THE FAIRIES'\n    SABBATH,                                                     665\n\n  COLUMBUS. (A PRINT AFTER A PICTURE BY PARMEGGIANO.)\n    BY B. SIMMONS,                                               687\n\n  TO SWALLOWS ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE. BY THE SAME,              690\n\n  THE DILIGENCE. A LEAF FROM A JOURNAL,                          692\n\n  WHO WROTE GIL BLAS?                                            698\n\n  MICHAEL KALLIPHOURNAS,                                         725\n\n  AFRICA--SLAVE TRADE--TROPICAL COLONIES,                        731\n\n  NARRATION OF CERTAIN UNCOMMON THINGS THAT DID\n    FORMERLY HAPPEN TO ME, HERBERT WILLIS, B.D.                  749\n\n  BEAU BRUMMELL,                                                 769\n\n  THE ACTUAL CONDITION OF THE GREEK STATE,                       785\n\n  INDEX,                                                         797\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n  EDINBURGH:\n  WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET;\n  AND 22, PALL-MALL, LONDON.\n\n_To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed._\n\nSOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.\n\nPRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND HUGHES, EDINBURGH.\n\n\n\n\nBLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.\n\nNo CCCXLIV.     JUNE, 1844.     VOL. LV.\n\n\n\n\nTRADITIONS AND TALES OF UPPER LUSATIA.\n\nNo. I.\n\nTHE FAIRIES' SABBATH.\n\n\nWHAT is a fairy?\n\nREAD!\n\n[\"_A Wood near Athens.--Enter a Fairy on one side, and Puck on the\nother._{A}]\n\n      \"_Puck._ How now, Spirit! whither wander you?\n\n      _Fairy._ Over hill, over dale,\n          Thorough bush, thorough brier,\n      Over park, over pale,\n          Thorough flood, thorough fire,\n      I do wander ever where,\n      Swifter than the moones sphere;\n      And I serve the Fairy Queen,\n      To dew her orbs upon the green:\n      The cowslips tall her pensioners be;\n      In their gold coats spots you see;\n      Those be rubies, fairy favours,\n      In those freckles live their savours:\n    I must go seek some dewdrops here,\n    And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.\n    Farewell, thou lob of spirits, I'll begone;\n    Our queen and all our elves come here anon.\n\n    _Puck._ The King doth keep his revels here to-night;\n    Take heed, the queen come not within his sight.\n    For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,\n    Because that she, as her attendant, hath\n    A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king;\n    She never had so sweet a changeling.\n    And jealous Oberon would have the child\n    Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild:\n    But she, perforce, withholds the loved boy:\n    Crowns him with flowers, and makes him all her joy:\n    And now they never meet in grove, or green,\n    By fountain clear, or spangled starlight sheen,\n    But they do square; that all their elves, for fear,\n    Creep into acorn cups, and hide them there.\"\n\nAnd there, then, they are!--The blithe and lithe, bright and fine\ndarlings of your early-bewitched and for ever-enamoured fancy! There\nthey are! The King and the Queen, and the Two royal Courts of shadowy,\ngorgeous, remote, and cloud-walled Elf-land: The fairies of the vision\nonce wafted, \"by moon or star light,\" upon the \"creeping murmur\" of the\nAvon!--THE FAIRIES IN ENGLAND! YOUR fairies!\n\nNevertheless you, from of old, are discreet. And you mistrust\ninformation which discountenances itself, by borrowing the magical robe\nof verse! Or you misdoubt this medley of our English blood, which in the\nlapse of ages must, as you deem, have confounded, upon the soil, the\nconfluent streams of primitively distinct superstitions! Or your\nsuspicious inquisition rebels against this insular banishment of ours,\nwhich, sequestering us from the common mind of the world, may, as you\naugur, have perverted, into an excessive individuality of growth, our\nmythological beliefs: Or--Southwards then!\n\nOne good stride over salt water lands you amongst a people, who, from\nthe old, have kept THEMSELVES TO THEMSELVES; whose warm, bold,\n_thorough_-loyal hearts hereditarily believe, after the love and\nreverence owed from the children's children to the fathers' fathers.\nHere are--for good and for ill--and from a sure hand:--\"THE FAIRIES IN\nLOWER BRITANNY; _alio nomine_--THE KORRIGANS.\"\n\n\"Like these holy virgins, (the Gallicenae or Barrigenae of Mela,) our\nKorrigans predict the future. They know the skill of healing incurable\nmaladies with particular charms; which they impart, it is affirmed, to\nmagicians that are their friends. Ingenious Proteuses, they take the\nshape of any animal at their pleasure. In the twinkling of an eye they\nwhisk from one end of the world to the other. Annually, with returning\nspring, they celebrate a high nocturnal festivity. A tablecloth, white\nas the driven snow, is spread upon the greensward, by the margin of a\nfountain. It is covered with the most delicious viands; in the midst\nsparkles a crystal goblet, which sheds such a splendour as serves in the\nstead of torches. At the close of the repast, this goblet goes round\nfrom hand to hand; it holds a miraculous beverage, one drop of which, it\nis averred, would make omniscient, like the Almighty. At any least\nbreath or stir of human kind, all vanishes.\n\n\"In truth, it is near fountains that the Korrigans are oftenest met\nwith; especially near such as rise in the neighbourhood of _dolmens_.{B}\nFor in the sequestered spots whence the Virgin Mary, who is held for\ntheir chief foe, has not yet driven them, they still preside over the\nfountains. Our traditions bestow upon them a strong passion for music,\nwith sweet voices; but do not, like those of the Germanic nations, make\ndancers of them. The popular songs of all countries frequently depict\nthem combing their fine fair hair, which they seem daintily to cherish.\nTheir stature is that of the other European fairies: they are not above\ntwo feet in height. Their shape, exquisitely proportioned, is as airy,\nslight, and pellucid as that of the wasp. They have no other dress than\na white veil, which they wrap around their body. Seen by night, they are\nvery beautiful: in the daytime, you perceive that their hair is\ngrey--that their eyes are red--that their face is wrinkled. Accordingly,\nthey begin to show themselves only at the shut of eve; and they loathe\nthe light. _Every thing about them denotes fallen intelligences._ The\nBreton peasants maintain that _they are high princesses, who, because\nthey would not embrace Christianity when the apostles came to preach in\nArmorica, were stricken by the curse of God_. The Welsh recognise in\nthem, souls of Druids doomed to penance. This coincidence is remarkable.\n\n\"They are universally believed to feel a vehement hatred for the\nclergy, and for our holy religion, which has confounded them with the\nspirits of darkness--a grand motive, as it appears, of displeasure and\noffence to them. The sight of a surplice, _the sound of bells_, scares\nthem away. The popular tales of all Europe would, meanwhile, tend to\nsupport the church, in viewing them as maleficent genii. As in Britanny;\nthe blast of their breath is mortal in Wales, in Ireland, in Scotland,\nand in Prussia. They cast weirds.{C} Whosoever has muddied the waters of\ntheir spring, or caught them combing their hair, or counting their\ntreasures beside their _dolmen_, (for they there keep, it is believed,\nconcealed mines of gold and of diamonds,) almost inevitably dies;\nespecially should the misencounter fall upon a Saturday, which day, holy\nto the Virgin Mother, is inauspicious for their kind,\"{D} &c. &c. &c.\n\nHere, in the stead of the joyously-sociable monarchal hive, you behold a\nrepublic of solitarily-dwelling, and not unconditionally beautiful,\nnaiads! No dancing! And a stature, prodigiously disqualifying for the\nasylum of an acorn cup! You are unsatisfied. Shakspeare has indeed\nvividly portrayed one curiously-featured species, and M. De la\nVillemarque another, of the air-made inscrutable beings evoked by your\nquestion; but your question, from the beginning, struck at the GENERIC\nnotion in its purified logical shape--at the definition, then--of the\nthing, a fairy.\n\nSir _Walter Scott_,{E} writing--the first in time of all men who have\nwritten--at large and scientifically upon the fairies of Western Europe,\nsteps into disquisition by a description, duly loose for leaving his own\nfoot unentangled. \"The general idea of SPIRITS, of A LIMITED POWER AND\nSUBORDINATE NATURE, DWELLING AMONG THE WOODS AND MOUNTAINS, is perhaps\ncommon to all nations.\"\n\nA little _too_ loose, peradventure!\n\nDr James Grimm, heroically bent upon rescuing from the throat of\noblivion and from the tooth of scepticism, to his own TEUTONS--yet\nheathen--a faith outreaching and outsoaring the gross definite\ncognisances of this fleshly eye and hand, sets apart one--profoundly\nread and thought--chapter, to WIGHTS AND ELVES.{F}\n\nThese terms, WIGHT and ELF, are presented by Dr Grimm as being, after a\nrough way, synonymous; and you have above seen another Germanic\nwriter--a native of Warwickshire--take ELF for equivalent, or nearly so,\nwith FAIRY.\n\nOf his many-natured Teutonic _wights and elves_, then, but with glances\ndarted around, northwards and westwards, and southwards and eastwards,\nDr Grimm begins with speaking thus:--\n\n\"From the _deified_ and _half-divine_ natures [investigated by this\nauthor in several of his antecedent chapters] _a whole order of other\nbeings_ is especially herein distinguished, that whilst the former\neither proceed of mankind, or seek human intercourse, these form a\nsegregated society--one might say, a peculiar kingdom of their own--and\nare only, by accident or the pressure of circumstances, moved to\nconverse with men. Something superhuman, approximating them to the gods,\nis mingled up in them: they possess power to help and to hurt man. They\nare however, at the same time, afraid of him, because they are not his\nbodily match. They appear either far below the human stature, or\nmisshapen. Almost all of them enjoy the faculty of rendering themselves\ninvisible.\"\n\nYou turn away your head, exclaiming that the weighty words of our\npuissant teacher are, for your proficiency, somewhat bewildering, and\nfor your exigency by much too--TEUTONIC.\n\nHave a care!\n\nHowever, \"Westward Hoe!\" Put the old Rhine between the master of living\nmythologists and yourself, and listen to Baron Walckenaer unlocking the\nfountains of the fairy belief, and showing how it streams, primarily\nthrough France, and secondarily through all remaining Western Europe.\n\"If there is a specifically characterized superstition, it is that which\nregards _the fairies_: those _female genii_,{G} most frequently _without\nname_, without descent, without kin, who are incessantly busied\nsubverting the order of nature, for the weal or the woe of mortals whom\nthey love and favour _without a motive_, or, as causelessly, hate and\npersecute.\"{H}\n\nWhat, _female_ only? Where are Oberon and Puck? _Without a name?_ Where\nTitania?--Mab? _Without a motive?_ Where the godmother of the\nsweet-faced and sweet-hearted Cinderella? Partial, and without a\ndistinct type in your own recollections, you guessingly pronounce the\ncharacterization of the perpetual secretary too----_French_. Driven\nback, disappointed on all sides, you turn round upon your difficulties,\nand manfully project beating out _a definition of your own_; to which\nend, glancing your eye back affectionately, and now, needle-like,\nnorthwards across the Channel, you \"at one slight bound\" once more find\nyourself at your own fireside, and on your table _The Midsummer Night's\nDream_, open at the second scene of the first act.\n\nInquirer whosoever! A problem lies large before us--complicated,\nabstruse even, yet--suitably to the subject--a delicate one! To hunt\ndown an elusive word, and a more elusive notion! It is to find a set of\ndeterminings which, laid together, shall form a circle fitted to confine\nthat inconfinable spirit--a Fairy; or, if you better like plain English,\nto find the terms needed for signifying, describing, expounding the\nThought which, lurking as at the bottom of your mind, under a crowd of\nthoughts, rises up, in all circumstances, to meet and answer the\nname----a fairy; the Thought, which when all accidental and unessential\nattributes liable to be attracted to the fairy essence have been\nstripped away, remains; the _substrate_, absolute, essential, _generic_\nnotion, therefore--a fairy; that Thought, which whencesoever acquired,\nand held howsoever, enables you to deal to your satisfaction with\nproposed fairies, acknowledging THIS one frankly;--THIS, but for a\nhalf-sister; shutting the door upon ANOTHER. You may distinguish these\nterms at your pleasure, by sundry denominations: for example, you may\ncall them Elements of the notion--a fairy--or circumscriptive Lines of\nsuch a notion, or indispensable Fairy-marks, or elfin Criteria, or by\nany other name which you may happen to like as well or better; but when\nfound, call them as you will, they must reveal in essence, the thing\nwhich we look for--the answer to the question with which we first\nstarted, and to which we have as yet found no satisfactory solution.\n\nAs for the process of the finding. This notion is to be tracked after\nwidely, and in intimate recesses; more hopefully, therefore, according\nto a planned campaign than a merely wild chance expatiation. The chase\nranges over a material and an intellectual ground. Of either--a word.\n\nI. The _material_--is a _geographical_--region, and may be called,\nsummarily--_The western half of Europe_. Let us regard it as laid out by\nlanguages at this day spoken. Here is a map, roughly sketched:--\n\n    A.--ABORIGINAL.\n\n  1. NORTH-WESTERN CELTS.--Ireland, Highlands of Scotland, and\n       the interjacent Isle of Man.\n\n  2. SOUTH-WESTERN CELTS.--Wales, Britanny, and the, till lately,\n       Celtic-speaking Cornwall.\n\n  3. NORTHERN GERMANS, or GERMANS BEYOND THE EIDER, or\n       SCANDINAVIANS.--Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Iceland.\n\n  4. SOUTHERN GERMANS, or GERMANS BELOW THE EIDER, or\n       TEUTONS.--Netherlands, the German empire, Switzerland.\n\n    B.--LATIN SPEAKING.\n\n  1. ITALY.--Sicily.\n\n  2. SPAIN.\n\n  3. PORTUGAL.\n\n  4. Latin-speaking FRANCE, distinguishing Normandy.\n\n    C.--GERMAN AND LATIN MIXED.\n\n  1. ENGLAND.\n\n  2. SCOTTISH LOWLANDS.\n\nII. From all this tangible territory, we are to sweep up--what? An\noverlying _intellectual_ kingdom, _videlicet_--THE KINDS OF THE FAIRIES,\nrudely marked out, perhaps, as follows:--\n\n  1. The _community_ of the Fairies, monarchal or republican:--The\n       Fairy folk; Fairies proper.\n\n  2. The _solitary_ domestic serviceable Fairy.\n\n  3. In the mines, under the water; a Fairy folk.\n\n  4. The solitary water Fairy.\n\n  5. The Fairy-ancestress.\n\n  6. The Fairy, tutelary or persecuting, of the chivalrous metrical\n       romance.\n\n  7. The Fairy, tutelary or persecuting, now giving and now turning\n       destinies, of the fairy tale proper.\n\nWe have then to ask what are the terms, marks, common traits, or by\nwhatsoever name they are to be called, which are yielded by a comparison\nof such seven kinds. Something like the following eight will possibly\narise:--\n\n  First, A FAIRY IS A SUBORDINATE SPIRIT.\n\n  Secondly, IS ATTRACTED TO THE SURFACE OF OUR PLANET.\n\n  Thirdly, AT ONCE SEEKS AND SHUNS MANKIND.\n\n  Fourthly, HAS A BODY.\n\n  Fifthly, IS ATTENUATE.\n\n  Sixthly, IS WITHOUT PROPER STATION AND FUNCTION IN THE GENERAL ECONOMY\n    OF THE UNIVERSE; OR IS MYTHOLOGICALLY DISPLACED.\n\n  Seventhly, IS ENDOWED WITH POWERS OF INTELLIGENCE AND OF AGENCY EXCELLING\n    HUMAN.\n\n  Eighthly, STANDS UNDER A DOOM.\n\nTo these eight criteria, taken _in the nature of the thing enquired_,\nthe reflective inquirer will perchance find himself led on to add two\nfurnished from within himself, as that--\n\nFirst, Acknowledging, as in these latter days our more delicate\npsychologists have called upon us to do, the names FANCY and IMAGINATION\nas designating TWO faculties, the fairies belong rather to the FANCY.\n\nSecondly, Accepting for a legitimate thought, legitimately and\ncogently signified, the High Marriage which one of these finer\nMetaphysicians{I}--instructed no doubt by his personal\nexperience--prophesies to his kind, between the \"intellect of man\" and\n\"this goodly universe,\" we may say that, regularly, this marriage must\nhave its antecedent possessing and agitating Love; that this love must,\nlike all possessing agitated love, have its attendant Reverie. Now,\nmight one venture to surmise that _this_ REVERIE breathes into the\ncreating of a fairy?\n\nDoes the jealous reader perchance miss in the above proposed eight\nseveral elements the UNITY OF NOTION, which he has all along seemed to\nfeel in his own spirit and understanding? Let him at once conceive, as\nintensely joined, the two permanent characters of _tenuity_ and\n_mythological displacement_, and take this compound for the nucleus of\nthe unity he seeks. About these two every other element will easily\nplace itself. For a _soul_, he shall infuse into the whole, after in\nlike manner inseparably blending them--FANCY, and that love-inspired\nREVERIE which won its way to us from Grassmere.\n\nAnd so take, reader, our answer to your question, \"_What is a fairy?_\"\nTHIS IS A FAIRY. Are you still unsatisfied? Good. The field of\ninvestigation lies open before you, free and inviting. On, in your own\nstrength, and Heaven speed you!\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe eight or nine tales of sundry length, and exceedingly diversified\nmatter, contained in the two little volumes of Herr Ernst Willkomm,{J}\nwhich have put us a-journeying to Fairy-land, have begun to produce\nbefore the literary world the living popular superstitions of a small\nand hidden mountainous district, by which _Cis Eidoran_ Germany leans\nupon Sclavonia: hidden, it would seem, for any thing like interesting\nknowledge, until this author began to write, from the visiting eye of\neven learned curiosity. Nor this without a sufficient reason; since the\nmountains do, of themselves, shut in their inhabitants, and, for a\nstranger, the temper of the rugged mountaineer, at once shy and mailing\nhimself in defiance, is, like the soil, inaccessible. To Ernst Willkomm\nthis hinderance was none. He discloses to us the heart of the country,\nand that of the people which have born him, which have bred him up; and\nhe will, if he is encouraged, write on. Three of these tales, or of\nthese traditions--for the titles, with this writer, appear to us\nexchangeable--regard the fairies properly so called. They are, \"_The\nPriest's Well_,\" \"_The Fairies' Sabbath_,\" here given, and \"_The Fairy\nTutor_,\" being the first, the third, and the seventh, of the entire\npresent series. Upon these three tales the foregoing attempt at fixing\nthe generic notion of a fairy was intended to bear. Should pretty Maud,\nthe stone-mason's daughter, our heroine for to-day, find the favour in\nEnglish eyes which her personal merit may well claim, the remaining two\nare not likely to be long withheld.\n\nThe illustrations which shall now follow, drawn from distinguished\nauthorities, aim at showing the consonancy of Herr Willkomm's pictures\nwith authentic representations of Elfin superstition already known to\nthe world. If, however, the criteria which have been proposed, have\nbeen rightfully deduced, the illustrations should as materially serve us\nin justifying these by proof.\n\nAmongst the numerous points of analogy which strikingly connect our tale\nwith popular tales and traditions innumerable, _three_ are main to the\nstructure of the tale itself. They may be very briefly described as--\n\n    I. The Heathenism of the Fairies.\n   II. Their need, thence arising.\n  III. Maud's ability to help them.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI. The opinion, which sets the fairies in opposition to the established\nfaith of all Christendom, is widely diffused. To the _Breton_ peasant,\nas M. de la Villemarque has above informed us, his Korrigan is a heathen\nprincess, doomed to a long sorrow for obstinately refusing the message\nof salvation.\n\nThe brothers Grimm, speaking of the fairies in _Ireland_, say that \"they\nare angels cast out from heaven, who have not fallen as low as hell; but\nin great fear and uncertainty about their future state, doubt,\nthemselves, whether they shall obtain mercy at the last day.\"{K}\n\nOf the fairies in _Scotland_, it is averred by the same learned and\nexact writers, that \"they were originally angels dwelling in bliss, but\nwho, because they suffered themselves to be seduced by the archfiend,\nwere hurled down from heaven in innumerable multitudes. They shall\nwander till the last day over mountains and lakes. They know not how\ntheir sentence will run--whether they shall be saved or damned; but\ndread the worst.\"\n\nTales, in many parts of Europe, which represent the fairies as\nexceedingly solicitous about their salvation, and as _inquiring of\npriests_ and others concerning their own spiritual prospects, for the\nmost part with an unfavourable answer, tend to fix upon them a\nreproachful affinity with the spirits of darkness.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nII. That the powerful fairies, who have appeared to us, from childhood\nupwards, as irresistible dispensers of good and evil to our kind, should\n_need aid_ of any sort from us, is an unexpected feature of the fairy\nlore, which breaks by degrees upon the zealous and advancing inquirer.\n\nThe two excellent brothers Grimm, in the most elaborate and\ncomprehensive collection,{L} probably, of national traditions that\nEurope possesses, have furnished us with various instances. We select a\nvery few. In the following graceful Alpine pastoral, the need of human\nhelp attaches to an exigency of life or death:--\n\n\nGERMAN TRADITIONS.\n\nNo. CCXX. _The Queen of the Snakes._\n\n\"A herd maiden found upon the fell a sick snake lying and almost\nfamished. Compassionately she held down to it her pitcher of milk. The\nsnake licked greedily, and was visibly revived. The girl went on her\nway; and it presently happened that her lover sued for her, but was too\npoor for the proud wealthy father, who tauntingly dismissed him till the\nday when he too should be master of as large herds as the old herdsman.\nFrom this time forwards had the old herdsman no luck more, but sheer\nmisfortune. Report ran that a fiery dragon was seen passing o' nights\nover his grounds; and his substance decayed. The poor swain was now as\nrich, and again sued for his beloved, whom he obtained. Upon the\nwedding-day a snake came gliding into the room, upon whose coiled tail\nthere sat a beautiful damsel, who said that it was she to whom formerly\nthe kind herd maid had, in strait of hunger, given her milk, and, out\nof gratitude, she took her brilliant crown from her head, and cast it\ninto the bride's lap. Thereupon she vanished; but the young couple\nthrove in their housekeeping greatly, and were soon well at ease in the\nworld.\"\n\nSince fairies, like ourselves, are mortal, TWO LIVES may be understood\nas at stake in the following:--\n\n\nNo. LXVIII. _The Lady of Alvensleben._\n\n\"Some hundred years ago, there lived at Calb, in the Werder, an aged\nlady of the house of Alvensleben, who feared God, was gracious to the\npeople, and willingly disposed to render any one a service: especially\nshe did assist the burgesses' wives in difficult travail of childbirth,\nand was, in such cases, of all desired and highly esteemed. Now,\ntherefore, there did happen in wise following:--\n\n\"In the night season there came a damsel to the castle gate, who knocked\nand distressfully called, beseeching that it should not mislike her, if\npossible, forthwith to arise, and to accompany her from the town, where\nthere lay a good woman in travail of child, because the last hour and\nuttermost peril was already upon her, and her mistress wist no help for\nher life. The noblewoman said, 'It is very midnight; all the town gates\nbe shut and well barred: how shall we make us forth?' The damsel\nrejoined that the gate was ready open, she should come forth only, (but\nbeware, as do some add, in the place whither she should be conducted, to\neat or to drink any thing, or to touch that should be proffered her.)\nThereupon did the lady rise from her bed, dressed her, came down, and\nwent along with the damsel which had knocked. The town gate she found\nopen, and as they came further into a field was there a fair way which\nled right into a hillside. The hill stood open, and although she did\nwell perceive that the thing was darksome, she resolved to go still on,\nunalarmed, until she arrived at last where was a _little wifikin_ that\nlay on the bed, in great pains of travail. But the noble lady gave her\nsuccour, (by the report of some, _she needed no more than lay her hand\nupon her body_,) and a little baby was born to the light of day.\n\n\"When she had yielded her aid, desire took her to return from out the\nhill, home; she took leave of the sick woman, (without having any thing\ntouched of the meats and liquors that were offered her,) and the former\ndamsel anew joined her, and brought her back unharmed to the castle. At\nthe gateway the damsel stood still, thanked her highly in her mistress's\nname, and drew off from her finger a golden ring, which she presented to\nthe noblewoman with these words, 'Have this dear pledge in right heedful\nkeeping, and let it not part from you and from your house. They of\nAlvensleben will flourish so long as they possess this ring. Should it\never leave them, the whole race must become extinct.' Herewith vanished\nthe damsel.\n\n\"It is said that the ring, at this day, is rightly and properly kept in\nthe lineage, and for good assurance deposited at Lubeck. But others,\nthat it was, at the dividing of the house into two branches, diligently\nparted in two. Others yet, that the one half has been melted, since when\nit goes ill with that branch: the other half stays with the other branch\nat Zichtow. The story moreover goes, that the benevolent lady was a\nmarried woman. When she upon the morrow told her husband the tale of\nthat had betid her in the night, he would not believe her, until she\nsaid, 'Forsooth, then, an' ye will not trow me, take only the key of yon\nroom from the table: there lieth, I dare warrant, the ring.' Which was\nexactly so. It is marvellous the gifts that men have received of the\nfairies.\"\n\nThe most touching by far of the traditions at our disposal for\nillustrating at once the dependence of the fairies upon man, and their\nanxiety concerning their souls' welfare, is one in which the\nall-important hope which we have said that they sometimes solicit from\nthe grave and authorized lips of priests, appears as floating on the\nlightest breath of children. Our immediate author is James Grimm,\nspeaking in his German _Mythology_ of the water spirit. The tradition\nitself is from Sweden, where this mythological being, the solitary\nwater fairy, bears the name of \"The _Neck_.\"\n\n\"Two lads were at play by the river side. The _Neck_ sate and touched\nhis harp. The children called to him--\n\n\"'Why sittest thou here, _Neck_, and playest? Thou wilt not go to\nheaven.' Then the _Neck_ began bitterly weeping, flung his harp away,\nand sank in the deep water. When the boys came home they told their\nfather, who was a priest, what had happened. The father said--\n\n\"'Ye have sinned towards the _Neck_. Go ye back, and give him promise of\nsalvation.'\n\n\"When they returned to the river, the _Neck_ sate upon the shore,\nmourning and weeping. The children said--\n\n\"'Weep not so, thou _Neck_. Our father hath said, that thy Redeemer too\nliveth.'\n\n\"Then the _Neck_ took joyfully his harp, and played sweetly until long\nafter sundown.\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" tenderly and profoundly suggests Dr Grimm, \"that any\nwhere else in our traditions is as significantly expressed how NEEDY of\nthe Christian belief the HEATHEN are, and how MILDLY it should approach\nthem.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIII. A few words shall here satisfy the claims of a widely-stretching\nsubject. Is there _one_ order of spirits which, as the Baron Walckenaer\nhas assured us, lavishes on chosen human heads love unattracted, and\nhate unprovoked? We must look well about us ere fixing the imputation.\nSpirits, upon the other hand, undoubtedly there are, and those of not a\nfew orders, fairies of one or another description being amongst them,\nwho exert, in the choice of their human favourites, a discrimination\nchallenging no light regard.\n\nA host of traditions, liberally scattered over a field, of which,\nperhaps, Ireland is one extremity and China the other, now plainly and\nemphatically declare, and now, after a venturous interpretation, may be\nunderstood to point out, _simplicity of will_ and _kindness of heart_ as\ntitles in the human being to the favour of the spirits. At times a\nbrighter beam irradiates such titles, to which holiness, purity, and\ninnocence, are seen to set their seal. We cull a few instances, warning\nthe reader, that, although of our best, he will possibly find them a\nmere working upwards to the most perfect which we have it in our power\nto bring before him in the beautiful tale of Maud.\n\nAmongst the searchers who seem to have been roused into activity by the\nGerman traditions of the brothers Grimm, Ludwig Bechstein takes\ndistinguished place for the diligence with which he has collected\ndifferent districts of Germany. Our inquiry shall owe him the two\nfollowing\n\n\nTRADITIONS OF THE GRABFELD.\n\nNo. LVII. _The little Cherry-Tree upon Castle Raueneck._\n\n\"There prevails, concerning the ruins of the old hill-castle Raueneck, a\nquite similar tradition to that which holds of the like named ruined\nstrength near Baden, in Austria. There lies yet buried here a vast\ntreasure, over which a spirit, debarred from repose, keeps watch,\nanxiously awaiting deliverance. But who is he that can and shall\nactually lift this treasure and free the spirit? Upon the wall there\ngrows a cherry seedling that shall one day become a tree; and the tree\nshall be cut down, and out of it a cradle made. He that, being a\nSunday's child, is rocked in this cradle, will grow up, but only\nprovided that he have kept himself virginally pure and chaste, _at some\nnoontide hour_ set free the spirit, lift the treasure, and become\nimmeasurably rich; so as he shall be able to rebuild Castle Raueneck and\nall the demolished castles in the neighbourhood round. If the plant\nwither, or if a storm break it, then must the spirit again wait until\nonce more a cherry stone, brought by a bird to the top of the lofty\nwall, shoot and put forth leaves, and haply grow to a tree.\"\n\n\nNo. LXII. _The Hollow Stone._\n\n\"In the wood near Altenstein there stands a high rock. The inhabitants\nof the neighbourhood say that this rock is hollow within, and filled\nwith treasure in great store from the olden time. At certain seasons and\nhours, it is given _to Sunday children_ to find the rock doors open, or\nto open them with _the lucky flower_.\"\n\nThe singular superstition of spiritual favour fixing itself upon the\nhuman child, consecrated, as it were, by the hallowed light upon which\nthe eyes first open, will shortly return upon us in _The Fairies'\nSabbath_.\n\nLo! where, from the bountiful hand of the Brothers Grimm, fall two\nbright dewdrop of tradition upon the pure opening flower of childhood.\n\n\nGERMAN TRADITIONS.\n\nNO. CLIX. _The Treasure at Soest._\n\n\"In the time of the Thirty Years' war, there was to be seen standing not\nfar from the town of Soest, in Westphalia, an old ruin, of which the\ntradition ran that there was an iron trunk there, full of money, kept by\na black dog and a bewitched maiden. The grandfathers and grandmothers\nWho are gone, used to tell that a strange nobleman shall one day arrive\nin the country, deliver the maiden, and open the chest with a fiery key.\nThey said that divers itinerant scholars and exorcists had, within the\nmemory of man, betaken themselves thither to dig, but been in so strange\nsort received and dismissed, that no one since further had list to the\nadventure, especially after their publishing that the treasure might be\nlifted of none who had once taken woman's milk. It was not long since a\nlittle girl from their village had led her few goats to feed about the\nvery spot; one of which straying amongst the ruins, she had followed it.\nWithin, in the castle court, was a damsel who questioned her what she\ndid there: and when she was informed, pointing to a little basket of\ncherries, further said, 'It is good; therefore take of that thou see'st\nbefore thee, with thy goat and all, and go; and come not again, neither\nlook behind, that a harm befall thee not.' Upon this the frightened\nchild caught up seven cherries, and made her way in alarm out of the\nruins. The cherries turned, in her hand, to money.\"\n\n\nNO. CLX. _The Welling Silver._\n\n\"In February of the year 1605, in the reign of Henry Julius, Duke of\nBrunswick, at a mile's distance from Quedlinburg, where it is called _at\nthe Dale_, it happened that a poor peasant sent his daughter into the\nnext shaw to pick up sticks for fuel. The girl took for this use a\nlarger basket upon her head, and a smaller in her hand; and when she had\nfilled them both and was going home, a mannikin clad all in white came\ntowards her, and asked:--\n\n\"'What art carrying there?'\n\n\"'Gathered sticks,' the girl made answer, 'for heating and cooking.'\n\n\"'Empty the wood out,' said further the little manling, 'take thy basket\nand follow me. I shall show thee something that is better and more\nprofitable than thy sticks.'\n\n\"He then took her by the hand, and led her back again to a knoll, and\nshowed her a place which might be of two ordinary tables' breadth of a\nfair pure silver, being smaller and larger coins of a moderate\nthickness, with a image stamped like a Virgin Mary, and all round an\nimpress of exceedingly old writing. As the silver _welled up_, as it\nwere, abundantly out of the ground, the little girl was terrified and\ndrew back, neither would she empty out the sticks from her small\nhand-basket. Accordingly, the little man in white himself did so, filled\nthe basket with the money, and gave it back to the little damsel with\nsaying, 'That shall be better for thee than thy sticks.' She was\nconfounded and took it; but upon the mannikin's requiring that she\nshould likewise empty out her larger basket and take silver therein, she\nrefused and said--'That she must carry fuel home too; for there were\nlittle children at home who must have a warm room, and there must be\nwood ready likewise for cooking.' This contented the manling, who said,\n'Well, then, go; take it all home,' and thereupon disappeared.\n\n\"The girl carried the basket of silver home, and told what had happened\nto her. The boors now ran flocking with pickaxes and other tools, and\nwould have their share of the treasure, but none of them was able to\nfind the spot where the silver had welled out.\n\n\"The Prince of Brunswick had a pound of the coined silver brought him,\nas did moreover a burgess of Halberstadt, N. Everkan, purchase the\nlike.\"\n\nThe quick-sighted reader will not easily have missed detecting the\nsudden effect produced upon the two spirits by THE TRUTHFUL\nRIGHT-MINDEDNESS OF THE TWO LITTLE GIRLS.\n\nCorrespondingly, James Grimm, from surveying collectively the Teutonic\ntraditions of bewitched or mysteriously hidden treasure, says--\n\n\"To the lifting of the treasure is required _silence_ and _innocence_.\n* * * Innocent children's hands are able to lay hold upon it, as to draw\nthe lot. * * * Who has viciously stained himself cannot approach it.\"{M}\n\nTwo short instances more from the copious fraternal collection, and we\nhave done. With a temper of pure childlike antiquity, they express in\nthe persons of the dwarfs--_Teutonic approximative, fairies_--the\nsympathy of the spirits with unstained and innocent human manners; and\nmay, if the traditions which exhibit the fairies under a cloud of sin\nand sorrow should have been felt by the reader as at all grating upon\nhis old love of them, help to soothe and reconcile him by a soft gleam\nof illumination, here lingering as in a newly revealed Golden Age of his\nown.\n\n\nGERMAN TRADITIONS.\n\nNo. CXLVII. _The Dwarfs upon the Tree._\n\n\"In the summer, the dwarfs often came trooping from the cliffs down into\nthe valley, and joined either with help, or as lookers-on at least, the\nhuman inhabitants at their work, especially the mowers, in hay-harvest.\nThey, then and there, seated themselves at their ease and pleasantly,\nupon the long and thick arm of a maple in the embowering shade. But once\nthere came certain evil-disposed persons, who, in the night, sawed the\nbough through, so that it held but weakly on to the trunk; and when the\nunsuspecting creatures, upon the morrow, settled themselves down upon\nit, the bough cracked in two, the dwarfs tumbled to the ground, were\nheartily laughed at, fell into violent anger, and cried aloud--\n\n    'O, how is the heaven high and long!\n    And falsehood waxen on earth so strong!\n    Here to-day, and for ever away!'\n\nThey kept their word, and never again made their appearance in the\ncountry.\"\n\n\nNo. CXLVIII. _The Dwarfs upon the Crag Stone._\n\n\"It was the wont of the dwarflings to seat themselves upon a great crag\nstone, and from thence to watch the haymakers; but a few mischievous\nfellows kindled a fire upon the stone, made it red-hot, and swept away\nembers and ashes. Morning came, and with it the tiny folk, who burned\nthemselves pitiably. They exclaimed in high anger--\n\n    'O wicked world! O wicked world!'\n\ncried vengeance, and vanished for evermore!\"\n\nWe have shown,--1. The Anti-christian character imputed by tradition to\nthe fairies. 2. The occasional dependence of the more powerful spirits\nupon the less powerful human beings; and, 3. The strong affectionate\nleaning in the will of the spirits towards moral human excellence. Of\nthe _ability_ which, in virtue of this excellence, the human creature\npossesses _to help_, Maud must, for the present, be permitted to stand\nfor the sole, as she is beyond all comparison our best, example.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe book of Ernst Willkomm takes a position in strong contrast to the\ncorresponding works due to the Brothers Grimm, and other great gatherers\nof legendary lore. He has a personal poetic interest in the tales which\nthey have not. He presents himself as the expositor, not only of his\nnative superstitions, but also, zealously, of the Upper Lusatian\nmanners. Himself cradled amongst the mountains, he has drawn with\ninfinite pains, and by slow degrees, as he best could, from the deep\ninterior life of the people, their jealously withheld credences, and the\ntraditions which are sacredly associated with every nook of their craggy\ndistrict.\n\n\"The tract of country,\" says Willkomm in his Preface, \"the true\nHighlands of Upper Lusatia, called by the inhabitants themselves the\nUpper Country, to which the tales are native, is one very narrowly\ncircumscribed. It amounts to scarcely ten square (German) miles. I have,\nhowever, selected it for my undertaking,\" he continues, \"because it is\nintimately familiar to me; because the innermost character of the small\npopulation who inhabit it is confidentially known to me; because there\nis hardly a road or a path in the country which, on the darkest night, I\ncould not find. Interesting, romantic, magnificent is the piece of earth\nwhich, at the confines of Bohemia, runs over hilly heights and lofty\nhill, tops on to the high mountain-chain. But still more interesting, I\nmaintain with confidence, is the race of people.\"\n\nIt may seem strange at first, that the wise and profound explorers whom\nwe have so often had occasion to cite, the brothers Grimm, should have\nfailed to present us with any traditions from a corner of ground around\nwhich they have so successfully laboured. We have hinted already at the\nsufficient reason of the blank. Willkomm tells us, that the rest of the\nworld, which \"the cabin'd cribb'd\" Lusatian has himself learned to call\n\"_o' th' outside_,\" has taken no cognisance of his beautiful hill\ncountry. Lusatia has a literature of her own, and no one is acquainted\nwith it. \"She had, and partly still has, her own, similar to the\nImperial cities, exceeding free and energetic municipal constitution.\"\nBut no one cares about it. Celebrated and learned historians, questioned\nby Willkomm on the subject, have acknowledged their ignorance in regard\nto the character and laws of its small people. A more cogent reason,\nhowever, lies nearer home, in the impenetrable reserve and\nself-insulation of the mountaineers themselves. Willkomm confesses that\ntheir coldness towards strangers is unparalleled; they have no\nconfidence whatever in foreigners; \"and let a Lusatian but suspect,\" he\nsays, \"that you come a-fishing to him, and to listen out his privacies;\nthen may you,\" as we may render the Lusatian proverb, \"'Lose yourself\nbefore you find his mushroom.'\" He will communicate to strangers little\nof his manners and customs; of his superstitious practices, his sacredly\nguarded traditions, absolutely nothing. \"He is unpliant,\nself-sequestered, coarse-grained; beyond all conception easy and\nphlegmatic.\"\n\nEvery genuine people, however, is rough-handed; and Willkomm proceeds,\nafter an ingenuous description of their defects, to vindicate the\nnatural heart of his brother highlanders. \"Let him amongst the gentle,\"\nhe proudly exclaims, \"who desire to hear for once something novel,\nsomething right vigorous, sit down beside me. He need not fear that\nmorals and decency will be cast out of doors. No, no! The people are\nthoroughly moral and chaste at heart, if they are somewhat coarse in\nexpression;--ay, and tender withal. Their imagination glides as\ndelighted along fragrant threads of gold, as it eagerly descends amongst\nthe powers of darkness, amidst the dance of will-o'-the-wisps and\nhorrible ghost-reels. They are, at once, a blunt, good-hearted,\naboriginal stamp of men, with all the advantages and deficiencies\nappurtenant.\"\n\nThe Lusatian traditions, brought to light in Germany by Ernst Willkomm,\nand now first made known to Englishmen in these pages, were collected by\nour author, as we have already observed, with difficulty and labour. A\nnative only of the mountain district could obtain from the lips of the\npeople their sacred and well-preserved lore, and even he not easily. The\ntales were narrated from time to time in the spinning-room, or in the\nso-called \"_Hell_\" of the boor or weaver, without any determinate\nconnexion. The listener gathered mere fragments, and these not fully,\nwhen, thrown off his guard, he ventured to interrupt the speaker. Each\nnarrator conceives his tale differently, and one individual is apt to\ngarnish the experience of many, or what he has heard from others, with a\nlittle spice of his own invention. Further, the details of ten or twelve\noccurrences are associated with one single spot; all of which appear\nexternally different, and yet internally are connected closely, \"so that\nwhen comprehended in one whole picture, and not till then, they form\nwhat, in a strict and literary sense, we are accustomed to call a\nTRADITION or TALE. I, at least,\" adds Ernst Willkomm, \"in such an\nupgathering of these disjointed tones of tradition, could only\naccomplish something that satisfied me by searching out the profound\nhidden meaning of the people's poesy: and I have at last gone no further\nthan attempting to compose these detached fragments of tradition,\nLusatianwise and popularwise, from the people's own telling, into a\nwhole. Upon this scheme only could alike the poetical worth of the\ntales, and the portraiture of the race, be rescued and rightly secured.\"\n\nThat the traditions have been rescued and maintained in their purity and\ntruth; coloured, no doubt, in the telling, and that unavoidably, under\nthe pencil of their educated renderer--we have every reason to believe\nfrom internal evidences. Maintaining their own originality, they\ncorrespond in the main to the traditions which come to us from almost\nevery known country on the globe, concurring to attest the intimate and\nnecessary relation of the human soul with what would seem to be the\nremnants of an ancient and universal mythology. They bear upon their\nfront the minute impress of reality, not to be mistaken, and beyond the\nmere invention of the poet. They are a valuable addition to the common\nstock. The style of Willkomm is clear, and to the point; almost always,\nas he says, in characterizing the speech of his own Upper Lusatians,\n\"hitting the nail upon the head.\" It breathes of his own mountain air,\nand possesses a charm, a vigour, and freshness, which we fear that we\nshall endeavour in vain to transfer to the following version:--\n\n\nTHE FAIRIES' SABBATH.\n\n\"Children born of a Sunday, and bastards, inherit the gift, denied to\nother human beings, of beholding spirits, of talking with them, and, if\nopportunity befriend, of right intimately communing with them. This was\na truth experienced by pretty Maud, the stone-mason's only daughter,\nwho, a hundred years ago or so, led, at the foot of the mountain-ridge\nyonder, a quiet home-loving life. Maud was born, of all days in the\nyear, upon Easter Sunday, which is said to be a truly lucky day for a\nmortal not otherwise heavily burdened with earthly blessings. In this\nlast respect, Maud had no reasonable cause of complaint; for her father,\nby the labour of his hands, painfully earned just as much as went to a\nfrugal housekeeping, and the mother kept the little family in order; so\nthat things looked always neat and clean enough in the abode of the\nstone-mason.\n\n\"All Sunday's children are very wise, and, if they are maidens, always\nuncommonly beautiful. Maud was, as a child, admired by every body; nay,\nit once went so far, as that a rich and beautiful, but very\nsickly-looking, lady of quality, who was travelling over the mountain in\na fine carriage, tried hard to coax the poor mother out of her pretty\nMaud with a large sum of gold. When the maiden had fairly stepped out of\nchild's shoes, and was obliged to seek employment away from home, there\nwas a mighty ado. It was for all the world as if a fairy was going\nthrough the place, when Maud, early in the morning, strolled along the\nbanks of the murmuring stream on her road to a wealthy weaver's. The\nyoung fellows saluted the fair one as they greeted no other. No one\nventured, however, to accost her with unseemly speeches--a kind of\nthing, by the way, that young men at all times are very prone to. Maud\nwas treated by every one like a saint. Maidens even, her equals in\nyears, prized her highly; and in no way envied her the general\nadmiration. This might be founded in the behaviour itself of Maud. More\nforward to oblige, to do good offices, more sweetly behaved, was no one.\nAnd then she had such a grace with it all, so innocent an eye, that when\nyou looked into it, heaven itself seemed to shine out upon you. In\nshort, whoever spoke with Maud, or might walk a few steps with her, that\nman was for the whole day another and a happier creature, and whatever\nhe undertook prospered with him.\n\n\"It would have been strange indeed had such a maiden lacked suitors, or\nnot very early found a sympathizing heart. Now, as for the suitors,\nthere was no dearth of them, Heaven knows! for there were youngsters of\nthe queerest fashion. Many without manners, though right well to look\nat; others wealthy, but without heart or soul; and others again ready to\nburst with rage, if any one but touched his hat to the beautiful\nMatilda. To all such, the innocent child had not a word to say; for she\nknew well enough, that scant blessing waits on marriages of such a make.\nThere was but one young fellow who could be said to please her\nthoroughly, and he was neither rich nor singularly handsome. She had\nbecome acquainted with him at the weaver's, where he, like herself, went\ndaily to work. Albert was industrious, well-behaved, and spoke so\nsensibly and right-heartedly, that Maud ever listened to him with\ndelight. Truth to tell, he simply put her own feelings into words. A\nvery little time passed, before she engaged herself secretly to Albert;\nand all would have gone on happily and well with them, had the two\nlovers but possessed just money enough to scrape a few matters together,\nand to set up housekeeping. But both were poor--poor as church mice;\nand, just for that reason, the father of Maud did not look very\nfavourably upon the settled love-affair of his daughter. He would have\nbeen better satisfied if the silly thing, as he called her, had given\nher hand to one of the rich suitors, who would have given their ears to\nplease her. Since, however, once for all, the mischief was done, he,\nlike a good man, determined to cause his only child no heartache, and\nlet matters get on as they might. One condition only he insisted\nupon--which was, that Maud should for the future work under her father's\nroof; Albert, meanwhile, having leave every evening to pay his visits\nthere. In this arrangement the two lovers cordially acquiesced; for,\nyoung as they were, they could well afford a little waiting. Meantime,\nit must be their endeavour, by incessant labour and careful economy, to\nsave up as much as they needed for setting themselves up in their humble\ndwelling. So they lived on from day to day in quiet content. And so, no\ndoubt, many days, and many, would have glided by, had not a singular\noccurrence disturbed the profound tranquillity. This was the way of\nit:--\n\n\"Maud's father, the stone-mason, found it too much for him, with his\nheavy work and all, when, at noon, he had the long journey to make\nbetween the stone quarry and his own home. Besides, the fine stone-dust\nhad brought on an inflammation of the eyes, so that he was obliged to\navoid the glare of the sun: no easy thing for him to do, since his road\nhomeward lay over a green high hill, upon which the sun beat\nscorchingly: wherefore, also, the people have given it the name of the\nSun's hill. It was made, in consequence, Maud's duty to take daily her\nfather's homely dinner to the stone quarry--a road which, although\ntoilsome, was by no means disagreeable to her; inasmuch as Albert often\nfound means to get leave of absence, and then always escorted her a part\nof the way.\n\n\"Over the Sun's hill nobody went willingly alone, either by day or by\nnight; for the tale ran, that to many persons wondrous things had\nhappened. Some had even caught, they said, their death-sickness there.\nTrue it is, any more definite report was not easily obtained. Only so\nmuch had Maud heard from her mother, that the GOOD PEOPLE were said, a\nvery, very long time ago, to have vanished into the green hill; just\nwhen, in all the places around, so many churches had sprung up, and the\nsound of bells rang over mountain and wood. These reports\nnotwithstanding, Maud, unconscious of evil, took her daily walk over the\nSun's hill, where indeed no one ever encountered her; so that the\nsplendid landscape looked often desolate and awful in the hot midday's\nglow.{N} For this reason it was always a great relief to her, when, from\nthe top of the steep hill, she saw Albert ascending towards her. She\nthen felt herself more secure, and went with better spirits forward. It\nwas near Whitsuntide--the father sickly and more peevish than ever, and\nwork bringing in no supply; for provisions had risen fearfully in price\nin consequence of the previous unusually hard winter. Now, as often as\nMaud brought the dinner to her father, he complained bitterly, and\nreproached her harshly for her folly; so that the poor child was almost\nheartbroken, pined, and led a melancholy life.\n\n\"She most deeply felt her trouble, when at noon she took her lonely\njourney along the desolate path that led to the quarry. Then she often\nshed the bitterest tears, and prayed to God to show her an outlet, and\nto have pity on their poverty.\n\n\"One day--it was just a week to Whitsun-eve--it happened that as she\nwent upon her way, silently and in sorrow, and in vain looked for the\nbeloved figure of Albert, she suddenly heard such a marvellously clear\nsound of a bell that she stood still to hearken. It was upon the mid\nsummit of the Sun's hill; the air perfectly calm, and around, far and\nnear, not a creature to be seen. From the distant hamlet in the valley\nclinked only the sharp tones of the whetting scythe. Maud believed that\nshe had had a ringing in her ears, and walked on. The singular sound was\nrepeated, resembling the tone exactly of a small silver bell.\n\n\"'How strange it is!' said the maiden to herself, casting her eyes upon\nthe ground; and in the soft moss, right at her feet, she perceived\nsomething glistening like a fragment of blue glass. She stooped and\npicked up what in colour and shape resembled a blue harebell, or, as it\nis called, _Fairy's hat_; only, where the stalk should have been, there\nwas a so small and elegantly-wrought little silver bell, that Maud could\nnot help laughing outright.\n\n\"'Bless me!' she exclaimed, 'who can have made that comical thing?' and\nthereupon she shook the flower, and the wee little bell began to sound\nso prodigiously clear, that the poor damsel let it fall, affrighted.\n\n\"'What are thy commands?' asked immediately a slender bright voice.\nBefore her stood a delicate creature, not higher than her hand; but of a\nsymmetry of person that was perfectly astonishing. His small expressive\nhead, round which a grove of curls, like crisped sunbeams, played, was\njust of a size, that the flower with the wondrous bell served it for a\ncovering. For Maud saw how he put on the sparkling hat with much\ngravity, and at the same time, very knowingly, giving himself a right\nbold and dandy appearance.\n\n\"'What are you then?' asked Maud trembling.\n\n\"The little fellow made a smart bow, 'Thy servant, with thy good leave,'\nreplied the strange being. 'I and my people have known thee a long time.\nWe have heard thy complainings; and because thou hast a kind heart, and\nlovest the flowers, and dost not wantonly pull them to pieces, am I\ncharged to do thee a pleasure, provided thou wilt do the like for me and\nmy people.'\n\n\"'Indeed! you pretty little original!' answered Maud, 'who are thy\npeople? I'----\n\n\"'Hush!' interrupted the little one, with a repelling gesture of the\nhand and a very impressive contraction of the brow. 'These are questions\nwhich I cannot answer, and, what is more, cannot suffer. It is not civil\nto put questions of the WHENCE and the WHAT. If thou wilt trust me, and\nI should think that I have the air of a proper gentleman, then resolve\nwithout delay whether thou wilt do me a pleasure for a reasonable\ncompensation.'\n\n\"'Dear little sir!' replied Maud, overcome, 'I am not mistrustful, but\nso beset and afflicted that I really do not know how I am to understand\nthis strange business. Do not make sport of me, good child; or, if thou\nart a spirit, I beseech thee have compassion on me, and let me go my way\nin peace. My father is waiting for me. His little bit of dinner is\ndrying in the heat of the sun.'\n\n\"'Silly prattle!' interrupted the little one. 'Thy old father lies under\nthe rock side, and snores till the fern leaves waggle over him. The good\nman's dinner will not take much harm. However, that thou mayest see how\ngood and honourable my intentions are, take thou my little cap. Be it\nthe pledge which I shall redeem from thee with a compensation. Only\nresolve quickly now whether thou wilt trust me. My time is short.'\n\n\"Maud hesitated still. She held the miraculous cap with its silver bell\nin her hand. The desire to get rid of the _uncanny_ creature the sooner\nthe better, and also, perhaps, a particle of female curiosity wrung from\nher her consent.\n\n\"'Good!' said the little one in great glee. 'Now, hear me! This day\nweek, upon Whitsun-eve, as ye call it, do thou come here in the evening,\nas soon as the moon has mounted this green hill. Be not afraid; for only\ngood will befall thee. As soon as thou hast reached this spot, ring with\nthe little bell which I have given thee; and thou wilt not repent having\nbeen serviceable to the good people.'\n\n\"Scarcely had the little man given Maud her direction, when the\nastonished maiden remarked that the ground before her feet flashed like\nmolten gold, sunk deeper and deeper, and in this glowing gulf the\nextraordinary being vanished, like a silver star. The whole phenomenon\nlasted only a few seconds, then every thing was again at rest as before.\nThe little bell-flower only assured Matilda that she did not dream, and\nthat something unusual had really taken place.\n\n\"Possessed with her feelings, she took her father his meal; and found\nhim, in sooth, fast asleep under the wall of rock. Of her adventure she\nsaid nothing, but carried the pledge of the little man well secured in\nher bosom. And yet how was it possible for her to persevere in her\nsilence? It is true, Maud knew not if the communication of the incident\nwas permitted her. She put her trust, however, in the pledge; and, since\nshe had not been commanded to silence, she hoped to be justified in\nmaking Albert acquainted with what had happened.\n\n\"She did it with fear and trembling, and produced to her astonished\nlover, as witness, the flower which had withered in the warmth of her\nbosom. Singularly enough, let her shake it as often as she would, the\nlittle bell could not be made to ring.\n\n\"'And you really mean to go?' asked Albert, when he had a little\nrecovered from his surprise. 'I should like to see you! To get flirting\nwith ghosts and hobgoblins, or whatever else the devils may be. No! go\nyou don't. You will throw that stupid thing into the running stream.\n_There_ it won't hurt you; and upon that confounded Sun's hill you will\nplease never to set foot more.'\n\n\"'I have given my word, Albert; and I must keep my word let what will\nhappen.'\n\n\"'Very well,' said the youngster, 'that's enough! Then every thing's at\nan end between us--clean at an end!'\n\n\"'How you take on now! For whom else, but for you, have I accepted this\npledge? For whom else have I so long endured--so long borne my father's\nupbraidings? Dost thou think that, had I wished it, I could not long\nsince have wedded? And is it my fault that I am a Sunday's child? Is it\nnot said that all Sunday's children are born to good-luck? If you hinder\nme from keeping my word with this miraculous being--and the luck that is\ndecreed me is meanwhile scattered to all the four winds--you may settle\nit with the spirit and face his anger; for I wash my hands in\ninnocency.'\n\n\"Maud began to cry, kissed the shrunken leaf, and hid it again in her\nbosom. Albert was not at ease. He was annoyed at the untoward encounter,\na touch of jealousy disquieted and distressed his soul, and yet he\ncould not say that the girl was in the wrong. At length he said,\ndispiritedly--\n\n\"'Go through with your folly then. I will, however, be near you, and if\nthe moon-spun rascal takes improper liberties, I will snap his neck,\nthough mine too should crack for it.'\n\n\"For the first time in his life, Albert parted with Maud in an\nill-humour, and the poor girl herself passed a bad and restless night.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"'Mother,' said Maud a few days afterwards, whilst she was getting the\nfather's dinner ready for her, 'did you ever see a fairy?'\n\n\"'God forbid, girl!' cried the worthy and somewhat timid woman, crossing\nherself. 'How came that into thy head? What hast thou to do with fairies\nand elves, dwarfs and wights? A good Christian has no business with such\nthings of nothing, or worse.'\n\n\"'Why, aunt Nelly was telling the other day such surprising stories of\nthe people!' Matilda replied; 'but she did not drop a hint of our having\nreason to fear any harm from them. She even called them the GOOD\nPEOPLE.'\n\n\"'Daughter!' the mother seriously rejoined, 'we call them so that they\nmay do us no mischief. It is safer for us to leave them quite alone.'\n\n\"'Can it be true, mother, that they have buried themselves under the\nSun's hill, and keep house and home there? Aunt Nelly would have it that\nin the still of the night, by bright moonlight, you may hear them\nsinging wonderful tunes.'\n\n\"The mother fixed her eyes upon Maud, set the old man's morsel of food\nupon the hearth stone, and, taking her daughter by the hand, led her to\nthe stove, and seated her upon the family bench.\n\n\"'Listen!' she said, 'and take thou heed to my words. The good people,\nor the fairies, which is their proper name, although they do not like to\nbe called so, do indeed live, though few have the gift of beholding\nthem, in all the mountains and valleys round about. Very, very seldom,\nand only upon the most extraordinary occasions, do they ever show\nthemselves. When they do, it betokens luck to him that sees them, and\nbrings it, if he quietly fulfill their wishes. These are certainly often\nout of the way, just like the people, who are strange and\nincomprehensible enough. Thank Goodness, they never crossed my path! but\nyour godmother Helen, she had many, many years ago, a curious adventure\nwith the fairies.'\n\n\"'Really, mother! Aunt Nelly spoken to the fairies! O pray, dear mother,\ntell me quickly and fully the whole story!'\n\n\"'First run to the quarry, and take your father his dinner,' said the\nmother. 'I will try in the meanwhile to remember all about it; and if\nyou will promise me to say not a word to any one--not even to your\ngodmother, you shall hear what your aunt told me at that time.'\n\n\"Maud very naturally promised every thing, took herself off, and was\nback again as quickly as possible. She did not loiter for a moment upon\nthe road, did not even notice the signals which her Albert made as he\ncame towards her from the distance. She could think only of her mother's\nstory.\n\n\"'Here I am again, mother!' she said breathless. 'I call that running! I\nshould say that the king's trained runners could do no better. But now\nbegin, dear mother. I will listen to you as if you were saying mass.'\n\n\"'As well as I can remember,' proceeded the mother, 'the case of the\nfairies is a very singular one. Your godmother Helen disclosed to me, it\nis true, just the chief particulars only; but they were quite enough to\nlet you understand something of the good people. They told her that,\nonce in every fifty or a hundred years, they have a kind of church\nmeeting, which from old time they call a Sabbath. For you must know,\nchild, that the fairies are properly Jews,{O} right down old chaffering\nJews, from _Olim's_ time.'{P}\n\n\"'O bless me! Jews!' cried Maud, frightened out of her wits.\n\n\"'Yes, yes, Jews and nothing else,' repeated the mother warmly; 'and\nthat's the very reason why, up to this day, they are so given to\ntrafficking in precious stones, pearls, gold, silver, and artful\njewellery. And when they give themselves a holiday, they go running\nabout above-ground, making presents to new-born babies if they are very\nlovely, and playing all kinds of odd pranks. According to your godmother\nHelen, the history of the fairies runs thus:--The whole people, and\ntheir name is LEGION, were formerly in heaven.'\n\n\"'In heaven!' cried Maud, interrupting her mother, 'then why didn't the\nsilly creatures stay there? Where else do they hope to be more snug and\ncomfortable than in heaven! seated under the fur-cap of father Abraham!'\n\n\"'How you prate!' said the mother, checking her. 'If you do not\ninstantly tie up your tongue, and think more respectfully of the good\npeople, I shall not tell you another syllable.'\n\n\"'O pray! I will be quite quiet!'\n\n\"'Very well. Then the fairies were a long while ago in heaven,'\ncontinued the mother. 'At that time they were part of the angelic host,\nwere fine handsome people, went about in glittering robes, and sat at\nGod's right hand. Now, it befell that the chief angel of all got\ndissatisfied with the old management of affairs in heaven, stirred up\ndiscontent, tampered with the half of all the angels, and tried, with\ntheir help, to thrust out the old rightful Master of heaven and earth\nfrom his bright throne. But it fared with him as it does with most\nrebels, and rightly should with all. Our Father, in his glory, got the\nbetter of Satan, took him by the hair of his head, and pitched him\nhead-foremost out of heaven into the pit of darkness, and his whole\nsharkish band of retainers after him. Amongst these, however, a good\nmany had given ear to his fine tales, and had followed him\nthoughtlessly, although they were not properly wicked at heart. They\nrepented their hasty work, even whilst they were falling deeper and\ndeeper into gloom. They put up a prayer of repentance to their Lord, and\nimplored his forgiveness; and because God saw that they were not rotten\nat the core, he hearkened to their petition, and rescued them out of the\nclaws of Satan. But since they were not worthy to be received into\nheaven again, the Lord banished them back to the earth, with leave given\nthem to dwell either within it, or in upper air, upon the hills and\nrocks. You must know that, during their fall, a surprising change had\ngone on in the transgressors. They had kept their forms of\nlight--dwindled in size, however, immensely. And since they could not\nnow become men,{Q} and had fooled away their celestial bliss, the Lord\ngranted them a clear field, with power, until the last day, to make\nthemselves worthy by good deeds of being re-admitted into heaven. And\nthus they have their abodes all about the open hills and the meadow\nflats; and only once in every fifty or a hundred years, upon\nWhitsun-eve, are they permitted, in their own way, to keep the Sabbath.\nAnd then they can only do it by loading a truly good human being with\nthe blessings of fortune. For thus only can they hope to expiate their\ngreat offence in the sight of Heaven.'\n\n\"'And did godmother Helen hear this from the good people themselves?'\nasked Maud, as her mother ceased. 'Was she, then, lucky?'\n\n\"'No,' said the mother, 'Nelly was not lucky, because she did not\nobserve the commandment of the fairies.'\n\n\"'Well, if one of the creatures came to me, and should lay a command\nupon me, I would keep a quiet tongue within my head, and do readily what\nhe wished.'\n\n\"'Foolish chatter!' said the mother chidingly. 'Thou dost offend the\nquiet people with thy empty babbling for they can hear every thing that\nhuman lips utter.'\n\n\"Maud went singing to her work, and long mused upon her timid mother's\nnarrative. What she had heard filled her with so eager a curiosity that\nshe could scarcely wait for Whitsun-eve, although she took care to let\nno one observe it. From time to time she stole a glance at her\nbell-flower, tried to make it ring with shaking, but failed to bring, by\nany means, one sound from the delicate little bell.\n\n\"With a longing dread, Maud saw the promised Whitsun-eve draw near. It\nwas not easy to leave the parental roof at nightfall. The enamoured\nmaiden, however, found a becoming excuse which placed a few hours at her\ndisposal. She went her way with the fairy cap in her bosom, ascended the\ngreen summit of the Sun's hill, now glimmering in the moonlight, and\ndrew from its hiding-place the pledge that had been entrusted to her. As\nif by a miracle, the little flower, touched by the moon's silvery glow,\nexpanded in an instant. Almost spontaneously it began to oscillate in\nher hand, and shrill and clear the little bell rang, so that it\nresounded into the adjacent wood, whence a soft echo melodiously\nresponded.\n\n\"The voice of Albert, who with vigorous strides was ascending the hill\nto look close after the adventure of his beloved, reached her ear. But\nthe senses of Matilda were engrossed by the fairies, and to his repeated\ncalls she gave no answer. And she had good reason. For scarcely had the\nlittle bell rung, when a flash, like a sparkling snake, darted here and\nthere upon the grass, and out of the quivering light there arose a small\nand exceedingly beautiful creature, whom Maud immediately recognised for\nthe lord of the bell-flower. The little fellow was in Spanish costume.\nHe wore a doublet of sky-blue butterflies' wings, over which dropped a\nmagnificent lace collar woven of the gossamer. The delicate feet were\ncovered with transparent shoes, made of dew-drops.\n\n\"Maud stood mute with astonishment, as well at the tiny smallness of the\nfairy, as at his truly classical beauty. The little creature was, in his\nway, a perfect Adonis.\n\n\"'Now, my trembler, art thou resolute to follow me?' whispered the fairy\nin a note that came to her like a note of the harmonicon. 'Restore me\nthe pledge, for we have no time to lose.'\n\n\"Maud gave back the bell-flower; the elf seized it in his little\ndiaphanous alabaster floral hands, waved it three times round his\ndazzling head, so that the little bell sent a peal round the hills, and\nthen threw it upon the ground. It dilated immediately, took the shape of\na galley with masts and yards, although no larger than the moon's disk\nas we see it from the earth. In the same instant the elf sat in the\nlittle vessel, which trembled at every step, drew a rush from his\ngirdle, and steered with it in the air.\n\n\"'Now, come, step in!' he called to Maud.\n\n\"'In that!' exclaimed the maiden astounded. 'Heaven love you, there's\nhardly room for my two feet! Besides, it will tear under me like a\npoppy-leaf, for I verily believe it is made of mere air.'\n\n\"'Spare your remarks, Miss Pert!' returned the fairy, 'and step in. I\npledge my honour, and will give up my hope of salvation, if this bark of\nour master's do not carry thee safely over half the earth ball in less\nthan no time.'\n\n\"It might be that Maud now stood under the mysterious power of a spell,\nor that she was urged by an invincible curiosity. Enough: she placed her\nfeet in the quaking gondola, which swelled aloft like an air-balloon\nuntil it reached the maiden's shoulders. Now the ground sank away, and\nMatilda's senses failed her in the dizzy speed with which she was\nhurried down into the bowels of the earth. At this precise moment Albert\nreached the top of the hill. He had only the pleasure of looking after\nthem, and hardly that; for it appeared to him as if every thing about\nhim was immersed in a sea of azure so resplendently clear, that he was\nfor several minutes robbed of his sight.\n\n\"From the magical slumber into which the child had fallen during her\ndescent into the kingdom of the fairies, she was awakened by a witching\nharmony of sounds. She opened her eyes, and observed, with not a little\nwonder, that she was lying upon a bed or mat, or whatsoever else it\nmight be called, of costly emerald. Over her head nodded marvellous\nflowers of the most glowing colours; butterflies, of unseen splendour,\nflitted on cooling pinions around her couch, and fanned her with an air\nso sweet, so invigorating, that the maiden had never breathed before\nwith such delight. But with all the magnificence, all the spirit and\nsplendour, every thing was quite other than upon the sunny earth above.\nThe flowers and herbs glittered indeed; but they seemed to be juiceless,\nand looked as if formed of crystal. Even the butterflies had a peculiar\nmotion, like that of an involuntary sleepwalker. Only the harmonious\nstrains, which now rang louder and louder, more and more ravishing, were\nso ecstatic, so inviting to joyous devotion, that Maud would fain have\nshouted aloud for joy; but she felt that she could not speak, could not\ncry out, and sight, touch, and hearing, were more alive than ever.\n\n\"Thus she lay for some time motionless, pleasingly intent upon the\nnodding flowers, the swarming butterflies. At length the winged\nmultitude dispersed, and two slender fairy-forms approached her bed and\nbeckoned her to arise and follow them.\n\n\"Maud arose; and the fairies, who hardly reached up to her knee, taking\nher between them, conducted her through a gate of mother-of-pearl into\nan illimitable space, through which throng of countless millions of\nelves confusedly moved. The converse of these semi-spirits sounded in\nthe distance harmonious, like perfect music. Notwithstanding the immense\nmultitude, there was nothing of tumult, nothing of uproar. They stood\nall in the finest concord, and bent, waving their flower-caps\ngracefully, towards the abashed, astonished maiden. It bewildered Maud\nto see that not only overhead arched a star-bespangled sky, but likewise\nunderneath her feet the same solemn starry splendour was revealed, as if\nthe slight fairy people walked, between two heavens, upon the milkwhite\nvapour which rolled on under them like clouds. Every fairy had on glass\nor crystal shoes, if that which they wore on their feet might be so\ncalled. It is, however, possible that the exquisitely made limbs of\nthese perplexing beings only deluded the eyes of the poor girl with such\nan appearance.\n\n\"Nearly in the middle of the immeasurable arena rose a temple of gold,\nsilver, and precious stones, which, with its lofty pillars reaching to\nthe sky, was emblazoned in so wondrous a light, that, notwithstanding\nthe extreme refulgence, it did not dazzle. Within this, upon a\nceaselessly revolving sun-orb, stood the most beautiful and tallest of\nthe fairies. In her golden hair gleamed stars. Joy and ecstasy radiated\nlike a glory from her lovely pale face, and vapoury raiment concealed,\nbut as with a breath, her incomparable figure. Towards her pressed the\ninnumerable host; for the sublime creature might be the priestess of the\nunited elfin race. Maud was carried forwards with them, that she might\nbe a witness of the singular worship that was here solemnized. Not a\nword was spoken, no hymn was sung; there was but a looking-up of\nsupplication, of trustfulness, in which all the fairies, turning round\nupon their sparkling little feet, took part. After a few minutes a\njoyful expression in the countenance of the worshippers proclaimed the\nhappy issue of the Sabbath. The stars of the upper sky shot down like\nsilver spangles, and hung suspended in the luminous hair of the fairies,\ngiving them the appearance of carrying dancing lights on their heads. A\nloud, melodious, strain of rejoicing thrilled through the vast room. The\nradiant structure heaved and sank. Overhead a verdurous canopy of leaves\nvaulted itself; the elves, entwining arms and legs, flew in a lightning\nwhirl around the high priestess and the dazzled Maud, who, unawares, had\ncome close upon the lovely fairy.\n\n\"In a little while the slender body-chain of elves gave way; they\ngrouped themselves into numberless rows; every one took off the star\nfrom his head, and, tripping up, deposited it at the feet of the\npriestess, where they at length all united in composing themselves into\na great gold-bright sphere, exactly resembling that upon which the high,\nofficiating fairy had been borne round in the temple.\n\n\"The elfin now extended her hand to Maud and said--\n\n\"'We thank thee for the readiness with which thou hast followed my\nmessenger into this our hidden kingdom. Thou hast, by thy presence,\nprospered our Sabbath festival. Receive, for thy reward, the gratitude\nof all the fairies; and bear with thee this gift in remembrance of this\nday.'\n\n\"So speaking, she plucked the coronal of stars from her hair, stretched\nit out with both her hands, and hung it upon the head and neck of\nMatilda.\n\n\"'Whenever thou art in trouble,' she continued, 'think of the good\npeople; pull one of these stars, throw it in the air by the light of the\nmoon, and whatsoever thou wishest, provided it be lawful, shall be\ngranted thee.'\n\n\"Maud would have stammered forth her thanks, but she felt herself still\npowerless to speak. A kiss of the fairy upon her forehead was the signal\nfor breaking up. The good people once more waved their caps. The gondola\nfloated by, Maud mounted it, and, as quickly as she had descended, was\nlifted up upon the earth again.\n\n\"'There!' said the little pilot fairy, tying the supple rudder about the\nwrist of Maud, 'that is my wedding gift to you and Albert. Give him the\nhalf of it if he pouts; and--have a care--no blabbing!'\n\n\"With that the gondola dissolved like a cloud in the air. The fairy\nvanished; and Maud lay alone upon the fragrant dewy grass of the Sun's\nhill.\n\n\"Still all-amazed at what had happened, and not yet come rightly to\nherself, she slowly rose, intending to go home. It was then she\nperceived Albert, who, with folded arms, was staring wildly and savagely\ninto the wood below. Matilda coughed.\n\n\"'Why where, in the name of all that is holy, have you been dancing to?'\nwas the not very tender greeting of her lover. 'I saw you standing there\nas I came up the hill; and then lightning and streams of fire were all\nabout me, and here I have been full five minutes, running about in all\ndirections, without being able to find a trace of you.'\n\n\"'Only five minutes!' exclaimed Maud; 'that is extraordinary!'\n\n\"'Yes; and, no offence to you, not altogether right,' answered Albert.\n'Did I not beg of you to wait for me?'\n\n\"'That you might wring the fairy's neck for him?' said the maiden,\nlaughing. 'Set yourself at ease, Albert; it is much better as it is.'\n\n\"'What is?' screamed the youngster.\n\n\"'Never mind! It is all done now; and indeed, dear boy, we shall neither\nof us repent it. Come, let us go home.'\n\n\"'O ho!--_dear boy!_--Mighty wise and patronizing truly!'\n\n\"'Well, then, good Albert,' said Matilda coaxingly; 'only come away, and\ndon't be angry. In four weeks we shall be married.'\n\n\"'In fo--ur wee--eeks!' stuttered Albert.\n\n\"'Yes, and in three, if you like it better,' prated the overjoyed Maud.\n'The good people,' she added, almost inaudibly, 'have enabled us to\nmarry. Therefore behave pretty, be quiet, and don't quarrel--or\nelse--'_every thing is at an end between us--clean at an end!_' Don't\nyou know that I am a Sunday's child, and am under the especial\nprotection of these kind, little, powerful creatures?'\n\n\"The jealous youth followed the maiden with reluctance. Whilst he\nwalked, murmuring in an under-tone at her side, he noticed by the light\nof the full moon something flickering in Matilda's hair. He examined it\nmore closely, and then stood still.\n\n\"'What new fashion do you call that?' he asked in a voice of chagrin.\n'The idea of hanging dried mushrooms in one's hair! If you will only\nwalk with that finery by daylight down to the brook, the children will\nrun after you, and point at you with their finger.'\n\n\"'Mushrooms!' replied Maud. 'Why, where are your eyes again?'\n\n\"'Well, I suppose you don't mean to call them silver crowns? Thank\nHeaven, my eyes are good enough yet to see the difference between dried\nfunguses and coined money!'\n\n\"'They are glittering stars, sir,' said Maud, short and decided.\n\n\"'O indeed!' returned Albert. 'Well, then, the next time I would\nrecommend you to select some that shine rather brighter.'\n\n\"The lovers had, in the meanwhile, reached the hut of the stone-mason.\nAlbert entered with Matilda. The father lay asleep by the stove. The\nmother turned her spinning-wheel.\n\n\"'Good-evening, mother!\" said Albert. 'Have the goodness to tell that\nconceited girl there, that her headgear is the most miserable that ever\nwas seen.'\n\n\"'What!' said the old lady wondering, and with a shake of the head.\n'Maud has no other gear that I see, but her own beautiful hair, which\nmay God long preserve to her!'\n\n\"Instead of giving any answer, Albert would have set the daughter before\nher mother's eyes. But Maud had already, in the doorway, pulled off the\nfairy's gift, and turned pale as she saw that she had actually worn\ndried mushrooms on a string, twisted of withered rushes. Albert observed\nher perplexity, and laughed. He bantered her, and snatched two or three\nmushrooms from the chain, to hoard up for future sport. This was the\ntoken of their reconciliation. Maud, although very calmly, assured her\nlover, over and over again, that within a month their nuptials should\ntake place. That the tired old man might not be disturbed, Albert went\nhome early; and Maud hastened to put carefully away, for a while, the\nvery meagre-looking fairy gifts.\n\n\"On the following morning, Albert was off betimes to his work. Putting\non his jacket, he heard something chinking within. His surprise was\nnaturally great, knowing that he had no money there. He dived at once\ninto his pocket, and drew out two large old gold pieces. Then he\nsuddenly remembered, that the evening before he had pocketed the\nmushrooms which he had snatched away from Maud, and the most extravagant\njoy possessed him. He forgot his work and every thing else; started off,\nand ran, as fast as his legs could carry him, to the house of the\nstone-mason.\n\n\"Maud stood at the brook, before the door, washing her small white hands\nin the clear stream.\n\n\"'Good-morrow, dear Maud, and a thousand blessings on thy sweet head!'\ncried Albert to her, as he came running. 'Look, look, how thy mushrooms\nhave changed! If the others turn out as well, I am afraid that, after\nall, I must forgive that little shrimp that was so killingly polite to\nyou!'\n\n\"'Delightful! delightful!' exclaimed Matilda, gazing at the gold pieces.\n'Mine have not changed yet--but that doesn't matter; for in the night, a\nlittle rush band, with which the fairy steered me into his kingdom of\nwonders, has bloomed into precious pearls and brilliants, and two\nsparkling wreaths are now lying upstairs in my drawer.'\n\n\"Joyful surprise choked Albert's words in his throat; but Maud drew him\non, and displayed to him her glories from the fairy world.\n\n\"'Let us leave nothing undone that may help our luck. Do you take the\nlittle wreath for the present. Such is the wish of the mysterious being,\nwho required my attendance at the Fairies' Sabbath.'\n\n\"Albert received the gift with a softened heart. He begged Maud's\nforgiveness of his fault; she granted it willingly, and before four\nweeks had passed by, the lovers were man and wife.\n\n\"Of her adventure on Whitsun-eve, Maud never spoke. So much the more had\nher godmother Helen to say about it; for it was not difficult to guess\nthat the fairies had had their prospering hand in the marriage of her\ngodchild. The stone-mason now gave up his laborious calling. Albert\nbecame the master of a moderate property, which he diligently cultivated\nwith his beloved Maud; and, as fair child after child was born to them,\nthe happy mother laid upon the breast of each a shriveled leaf from the\nelfin chain, for so had her little guide counseled her, when she once,\nin a doubtful hour, had summoned him to her aid. Albert and Matilda\nreached a good old age; their children throve, and carefully preserved,\nlike their parents, the gifts received from the subterranean folk, who\ncontinued their favour to them and to all their posterity.\"\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} Midsummer Night's Dream.\n\n{B} DOLMEN; literally, _stone table_. Remarkable structures, learnedly\nascribed to the Druids; unlearnedly, to the dwarfs and fairies; and\nnumerous throughout Western Britanny. One or more large and massive flat\nstones, overlaying great slabs planted edgeways in the ground, form a\nrude and sometimes very capacious chamber, or grotto. The superstition\nwhich cleaves to these relics of a forgotten antiquity, stamps itself in\nthe names given to many of them by the peasantry:--_Grotte aux fees_,\n_Roche aux fees_, &c.\n\n{C} WEIRDS. The French has--LOTS. \"_Elles jettent des SORTS._\" For\njustifying the translation, see the fine old Scottish ballad of KEMPION;\nor KEMP OWAYNE, at the beginning:--\n\n    \"Come here, come here, ye _freely fede_, (i. e. _nobly born_,)\n    And lay your head low on my knee,\n    A heavier WEIRD I shall ye read\n    Than ever was read to gay ladye.\n\n    \"I WEIRD ye to a fiery beast:\n    And released shall ye never be,\n    Till Kempion the kinges son\n    Come to the crag and thrice kiss thee!\"\n\n{D} From the preface to the exceedingly interesting collection by M. Th.\nde la Villemarque, of the transmitted songs that are current amongst his\nBas Breton countrymen.\n\n{E} Essay on _The Fairies of Popular Superstition_, in \"The Minstrelsy\nof the Scottish Border.\"\n\n{F} Deutsche Mythologie, von Jacob Grimm. Chap. xiii. Ed. 1. 1835, and\nxvii. Ed. 2. 1843.\n\n{G} \"_Ces genies femelles._\"\n\n{H} From Walckenaer's Dissertation on the Origin of the Fairy Belief;\nlast printed, in an abridged form, by Jacob, in his edition of the\n_Contes des Fees, par Perrault_, (Paris, 1842.)\n\n{I}                   \"Paradise and groves\n    Elysian, fortunate fields--like those of old\n    Sought in the Atlantic main, why should they be\n    A history only of departed things,\n    Or a mere fiction of what never was?\n    For the discerning _Intellect of man,\n    When wedded to this goodly Universe\n    In love and holy passion_, shall find these\n    A simple produce of the common day.\n    I long before the blissful hour arrives\n    Would chant, in lonely peace, the spousal verse\n    Of this great consummation.\"\n\nWORDSWORTH. _Preface to the Excursion._\n\n{J} _SAGEN UND MAHRCHEN aus der Oberlausitz_. Nacherzahlt von _Ernst\nWillkomm_, Hanover, 1843.\n\n{K} IRISCHE ELFENMARCHEN: Uebersetzt von den Bruedern Grimm. Leipzig,\n1826. _Introduction._\n\n{L} DEUTSCHE SAGEN: Herausgegeben von den Bruedern Grimm. Berlin, 1816\nand 1818.\n\n{M} Grimm's German Mythology, p. 544.\n\n{N}                               \"----his look\n    Drew audience and attention, STILL AS night\n    Or SUMMER'S NOONTIDE AIR.\"--_Paradise Lost. Book II._\n\n{O} The fairies themselves hardly can have imparted to godmother Helen\nthe two irreconcilable derivations of their order: that they were Jews,\nand that they were fallen angels. But the poet DRAMATICALLY joins, upon\nthe mother's lip, the two current traditions. With her, fallen angel and\nJew are synonymous, as being both opposed to the faith of the cross.\n\n{P} Who is this unknown OLIM? Our old friend perchance, the Latin\nadverb, \"_Olim_,\" _of yore_--gradually slipped from the mouths of\nscholars into the people's, and risen in dignity as it descended.\n\n{Q} _Sic._\n\n\n\n\nCOLUMBUS.\n\n(_A Print after a Picture by Parmeggiano._)\n\nBY B. SIMMONS.\n\n\n    I.\n\n    RISE, VICTOR, from the festive board\n        Flush'd with triumphal wine,\n    And lifting high thy beaming sword,\n    Fired by the flattering Harper's chord,\n        Who hymns thee half divine.\n    Vow at the glutted shrine of Fate\n    That dark-red brand to consecrate!\n    Long, dread, and doubtful was the fray\n    That gives the stars thy name to-day.\n    But all is over; round thee now\n    Fame shouts, spoil pours, and captives bow,\n    No stormier joy can Earth impart,\n    Than thrills in lightning through thy heart.\n\n    II.\n\n    Gay LOVER, with the soft guitar,\n    Hie to the olive-woods afar,\n    And to thy friend, the listening brook,\n    Alone reveal that raptured look;\n    The maid so long in secret loved--\n    A parent's angry will removed--\n    This morning saw betrothed thine,\n        That Sire the pledge, consenting, blest,\n    Life bright as motes in golden wine,\n        Is dancing in thy breast.\n\n    III.\n\n    STATESMAN astute, the final hour\n    Arrives of long-contested Power;\n    Each crafty wile thine ends to aid,\n    Party and principle betray'd;\n    The subtle speech, the plan profound,\n    Pursued for years, success has crown'd;\n    To-night the Vote upon whose tongue,\n    The nicely-poised Division hung,\n    Was thine--beneath that placid brow\n    What feelings throb exulting now!\n    Thy rival falls;--on grandeur's base\n    Go shake the nations in his place!\n\n    IV.\n\n    FAME, LOVE, AMBITION! what are Ye,\n        With all your wasting passions' war,\n    To the great Strife that, like a sea,\n    O'erswept His soul tumultuously,\n        Whose face gleams on me like a star--\n    A star that gleams through murky clouds--\n    As here begirt by struggling crowds\n    A spell-bound Loiterer I stand,\n    Before a print-shop in the Strand?\n    What are your eager hopes and fears\n    Whose minutes wither men like years--\n    Your schemes defeated or fulfill'd,\n    To the emotions dread that thrill'd\n    _His_ frame on that October night,\n        When, watching by the lonely mast,\n    _He saw on shore the moving light_,\n    And felt, though darkness veil'd the sight,\n        The long-sought World was his at last?{A}\n\n    V.\n\n    How Fancy's boldest glances fail,\n        Contemplating each hurrying mood\n    Of thought that to that aspect pale\n        Sent up the heart's o'erboiling flood\n    Through that vast vigil, while his eyes\n    Watch'd till the slow reluctant skies\n    Should kindle, and the vision dread,\n    Of all his livelong years be read!\n    In youth, his faith-led spirit doom'd\n        Still to be baffled and betray'd,\n    His manhood's vigorous noon consumed\n        Ere Power bestow'd its niggard aid;\n    That morn of summer, dawning grey,{B}\n    When, from Huelva's humble bay,\n    He full of hope, before the gale\n    Turn'd on the hopeless World his sail,\n    And steer'd for seas untrack'd, unknown,\n    And westward still sail'd on--sail'd on--\n    Sail'd on till Ocean seem'd to be\n    All shoreless as Eternity,\n    Till, from its long-loved Star estranged,\n    At last the constant Needle changed,{C}\n    And fierce amid his murmuring crew\n    Prone terror into treason grew;\n    While on his tortured spirit rose,\n    More dire than portents, toils, or foes,\n    The awaiting World's loud jeers and scorn\n    Yell'd o'er his profitless Return;\n    No--none through that dark watch may trace\n        The feelings wild beneath whose swell,\n    As heaves the bark the billows' race,\n        His Being rose and fell!\n    Yet over doubt, and pride, and pain,\n    O'er all that flash'd through breast and brain,\n    As with those grand, immortal eyes\n        He stood--his heart on fire to know\n    When morning next illumed the skies,\n        What wonders in its light should glow--\n    O'er all one thought must, in that hour,\n    Have sway'd supreme--Power, conscious Power--\n    The lofty sense that Truths conceived,\n        And born of his own starry mind,\n    And foster'd into might, achieved\n        A new Creation for mankind!\n    And when from off that ocean calm\n        The Tropic's dusky curtain clear'd,\n    All those green shores and banks of balm\n        And rosy-tinted hills appear'd\n    Silent and bright as Eden, ere\n    Earth's breezes shook one blossom there--\n    Against that hour's proud tumult weigh'd,\n    LOVE, FAME, AMBITION, how ye fade!\n\n    VI.\n\n    Thou LUTHER of the darken'd Deep!\n    Nor less intrepid, too, than He\n    Whose courage broke EARTH'S bigot sleep\n    Whilst thine unbarr'd the SEA--\n    Like his, 'twas thy predestined fate\n    Against your grin benighted age,\n    With all its fiends of Fear and Hate,\n    War, single-handed war, to wage,\n    And live a conqueror, too, like him,\n    Till Time's expiring lights grow dim!\n    O, Hero of my boyish heart!\n    Ere from thy pictured looks I part,\n    My mind's maturer reverence now\n    In thoughts of thankfulness would bow\n    To the OMNISCIENT WILL that sent\n    Thee forth, its chosen instrument,\n    To teach us hope, when sin and care,\n        And the vile soilings that degrade\n    Our dust, would bid us most despair--\n        Hope, from each varied deed display'd\n    Along thy bold and wondrous story,\n        That shows how far one steadfast mind,\n    Serene in suffering as in glory,\n        May go to deify our kind.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} October 11, 1492.--\"As the evening darkened, Columbus took his\nstation on the top of the castle or cabin, on the high poop of his\nvessel. However he might carry a cheerful and confident countenance\nduring the day, it was to him a time of the most painful anxiety; and\nnow, when he was wrapped from observation by the shades of night, he\nmaintained an intense and unremitting watch, ranging his eye along the\ndusky horizon in search of the most vague indications of land. Suddenly,\nabout ten o'clock, _he thought he beheld a light glimmering at a\ndistance_. Fearing that his eager hopes might deceive him, he called to\nPedro Gutierrez, gentleman of the king's bedchamber, and enquired\nwhether he saw a light in that direction; the latter replied in the\naffirmative. Columbus, yet doubtful whether it might not be some\ndelusion of the fancy, called Rodrigo Sanchez of Segovia, and made the\nsame enquiry. By the time the latter had ascended the roundhouse, the\nlight had disappeared. They saw it once or twice afterwards in sudden\nand passing gleams, as if it were a torch in the bark of a fisherman\nrising and sinking with the waves, or in the hand of some person on\nshore, borne up and down as he walked from house to house. So transient\nand uncertain were these gleams, that few attached any importance to\nthem; Columbus, however, considered them as certain signs of land, and,\nmoreover, that the land was inhabited.\"--IRVING'S _Columbus_, vol. i.\n\n{B} \"It was on Friday, the 3d of August 1492, early in the morning, that\nColumbus set sail on his first voyage of discovery. He departed from the\nbar of Saltes, a small island in front of the town of Huelva, steering\nin a south-westerly direction,\" &c.--IRVING. He was about fifty-seven\nyears old the year of the Discovery.\n\n{C} \"On the 13th September, in the evening, being about two hundred\nleagues from the island of Ferro, he, for the first time, noticed the\nvariation of the needle, a phenomenon which had never before been\nremarked. Struck with the circumstance, he observed it attentively for\nthree days, and found that the variation increased as he advanced. It\nsoon attracted the attention of the pilots, and filled them with\nconsternation. It seemed as if the very laws of nature were changing as\nthey advanced, and that they were entering another world subject to\nunknown influences.\"--_Ibid._\n\n\n\n\nTO SWALLOWS ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE.\n\nBY THE SAME.\n\n     \"The day before V----'s departure for the last time from the\n     country--it was the 4th of August, one of the hottest days of the\n     season--as evening fell, he strolled with an old school-fellow\n     through the cool green avenues and leafy arcades of the\n     neighbouring park, where his friend amused him by pointing out to\n     his attention vast multitudes of Swallows that came swarming from\n     all directions to settle on the roofs and gables of the\n     manor-house. This they do for several days preparatory to their\n     departing, in one collected body, to more genial climates.\"--_MS.\n     Memoir._\n\n\n    I.\n\n        Joyous Birds! preparing\n          In the clear evening light\n        To leave our dwindled summer day\n          For latitudes more bright!\n            How gay must be your greeting,\n            By southern fountains meeting,\n    To miss no faithful wing of all that started in your flight!\n\n    II.\n\n        Every clime and season\n          Fresh gladness brings to you,\n        Howe'er remote your social throngs\n          Their varied path pursue;\n            No winds nor waves dissever--\n            No dusky veil'd FOR EVER,\n    Frowneth across your fearless way in the empyrean blue.{A}\n\n    III.\n\n        Mates and merry brothers\n          Were ye in Arctic hours,\n        Mottling the evening beam that sloped\n          Adown old Gothic towers!\n            As blythe that sunlight dancing\n            Will see your pinions' glancing\n    Scattering afar through Tropic groves the spicy bloom in showers!\n\n    IV.\n\n        Haunters of palaced wastes!{B}\n          From king-forlorn Versailles\n        To where, round gateless Thebes, the winds\n          Like monarch voices wail,\n            Your tribe capricious ranges,\n            Reckless of glory's changes;\n    Love makes for ye a merry home amid the ruins pale.\n\n    V.\n\n        Another day, and ye\n          From knosp and turret's brow\n        Shall, with your fleet of crowding wings,\n          Air's viewless billows plough,\n            With no keen-fang'd regretting\n            Our darken'd hill-sides quitting,\n    --Away in fond companionship as cheerily as now!\n\n    VI.\n\n        Woe for the Soul-endued--\n          The clay-enthralled Mind--\n        Leaving, unlike you, favour'd birds!\n          Its all--its all behind.\n            Woe for the exile mourning,\n            To banishment returning--\n    A mateless bird wide torn apart from country and from kind!\n\n    VII.\n\n        This moment blest as ye,\n          Beneath his own home-trees,\n        With friends and fellows girt around,\n          Up springs the western breeze,\n            Bringing the parting weather--\n            Shall all depart together?\n    Ah, no!--he goes a wretch alone upon the lonely seas.\n\n    VIII.\n\n        To him the mouldering tower--\n          The pillar'd waste, to him\n        A broken-hearted music make\n          Until his eyelids swim.\n            None heeds when he complaineth,\n            Nor where that brow he leaneth\n    A mother's lips shall bless no more sinking to slumber dim.\n\n    IX.\n\n        Winter shall wake to spring,\n          And 'mid the fragrant grass\n        The daffodil shall watch the rill\n          Like Beauty by her glass\n            But woe for him who pineth\n            Where the clear water shineth,\n    With no voice near to say--How sweet those April evenings pass!\n\n    X.\n\n        Then while through Nature's heart\n          Love freshly burns again,\n        Hither shall ye, plumed travellers,\n          Come trooping o'er the main;\n            The selfsame nook disclosing\n            Its nest for your reposing\n    That saw you revel years ago as you shall revel then.{C}\n\n    XI.\n\n        --Your human brother's lot!\n          A few short years are gone--\n        Back, back like you to early scenes--\n          Lo! at the threshold-stone,\n            Where ever in the gloaming\n            Home's angels watch'd his coming,\n    A stranger stands, and stares at him who sighing passes on.\n\n    XII.\n\n        Joy to the Travail-worn!\n          Omnific purpose lies\n        Even in his bale as in your bliss,\n          Careerers of the skies!\n            When sun and earth, that cherish'd\n            Your tribes, with you have perish'd,\n    A home is his where partings more shall never dim the eyes.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} \"They all quit together; and fly for a time east or west, possibly\nin wait for stragglers not yet arrived from the interior--they then take\ndirectly to the south, and are soon lost sight of altogether for the\nallotted period of their absence. Their rapidity of flight is well\nknown, and the 'murder-aiming eye' of the most experienced sportsman\nwill seldom avail against the swallow; hence they themselves seldom fall\na prey to the raptorial birds.\"--CUVIER, _edited by Griffiths_. Swallows\nare long-lived; they have been known to live a number of years in cages.\n\n{B} In the fanciful language of Chateaubriand, \"This daughter of a king\n(the swallow) still seems attached to grandeur; she passes the summer\namid the ruins of Versailles, and the winter among those of Thebes.\"\n\n{C} \"However difficult to be credited, it seems to be ascertained beyond\ndoubt, that the same pair which quitted their nest and the limited\ncircle of their residence here, return to the very same nest again, and\nthis for several successive years; in all probability for their whole\nlives\"--_Griffiths'_ CUVIER.\n\n\n\n\nTHE DILIGENCE.\n\nA LEAF FROM A JOURNAL.\n\n\nA diligence is as familiar to our countrymen as a stage-coach; and, as\nrailroads flourish more amongst us than with our less commercial and\nenterprising neighbours, it is probable that, to many English\ntravellers, it is even more familiar. There is no need, therefore, to\ndescribe the portentous vehicle. Suffice it to say, that, of the three\ncompartments into which it is divided, I found myself lodged--not in the\n_coupee_ which looks out in front, and which has the appearance of a\nnarrow post-chaise that has been flattened and compressed in the effort\nto incorporate it with the rest of the machine--nor in the _rotunde_\nbehind, where one rides omnibus-fashion--but in the central compartment,\nthe _interieur_, which answers to the veritable old English stage-coach,\nand carries six. I was one of the central occupants of this central\ndivision; for I had not been so fortunate as to secure a corner seat.\nNow, for the convenience of the luckless person who occupies this\nposition, there depends from the roof of the coach, and hangs just\nbefore his face, a broad leathern strap, with a loop through which he\ncan, if so disposed, place his arms; and, when his arms are thus slung\nup, he can further rest his head upon them or upon the strap, and so\nseek repose. Whether he finds the repose he seeks, is another matter.\nOne half of the traveller swings like a parrot on his perch, the other\nhalf jolts on stationary--jolts over the eternal stones which pave the\nroads in France. Perhaps there are who can go to roost in this fashion.\nAnd if it is recorded of any one that he ever slept in this state of\ndemi-suspension--all swing above, all shake below--I should like very\nmuch to know, in the next place, what sort of dreams he had. Did he\nfancy himself a griffin, or huge dragon, beating the air with his wings,\nand at the same time trotting furiously upon the ground? Or, in order to\npicture out his sensations, was he compelled to divide himself into two\nseveral creatures, and be at once the captured and half-strangled goose,\nwith all its feathers outstretched in the air, and the wicked fox who is\nrunning away with it, at full speed, upon its back? As to myself, in no\nvain expectation of slumber, but merely for the sake of change of\nposition, I frequently slung my arms in this loop, and leaning my head\nagainst the broad leathern strap, I listened to the gossip of my\nfellow-travellers, if there was any conversation stirring; or, if all\nwas still, gave myself up to meditations upon my own schemes and\nprojects.\n\nAnd here let me observe, that I have always found that a journey in a\nstage-coach is remarkably favourable to the production of good\nresolution and sage designs for the future; which I account for partly\non the ground that they cannot, under such circumstances, demand to be\ncarried into immediate execution, and therefore may be indulged in the\nmore freely; and partly on this other ground, that one who has become a\ntraveller has loosened himself from his old customary moorings, and so\ngives himself, as it were, a new starting-point in life, from which he\nmay, if the spirit of delusion is still happily strong within him, draw\na mathematically straight line in the given direction A B, to be the\nfaithful index of his future career.\n\nWhat a generous sample of humanity it is that a well filled diligence\ncarries out of the gates of Paris! The mountain of luggage upon the\nroof, consisting of boxes of all shapes and sizes, does not contain in\nits numerous _strata_ of stuffs, and implements, and garments, rags and\nfine linen, a greater variety of dead material, than does the threefold\ninterior, with its complement of human beings, of living character and\nsentiment. As to the observation not unfrequently made, that Frenchmen\nhave less variety of character than ourselves, it is one which seems to\nme to have little or no foundation. Something there doubtless is of\nnational character, which pervades all classes and all classifications\nof men; and this colouring, seen diffused over the mass, makes us\napprehend, at first view, that there is in the several parts a radical\nsimilarity which, in fact, does not exist. We have only to become a\nlittle more intimate with the men themselves, and this national\ncolouring fades away; while the strong peculiarities resulting from\nsocial position, or individual temperament, stand out in sharp relief.\nAnd, in general, I will venture to say of national character--whatever\npeople may be spoken of--that one may compare it to the colour which the\nsea bears at different times, or which different seas are said to be\ndistinguished by: view the great surface at a distance, it is blue, or\ngreen, or grey; but take up a handful of the common element, and it is\nan undistinguishable portion of brackish water. It is French, or\nFlemish, or Spanish nature in the mass, and at a distance; looked at\ncloser, and in the individual, there is little else than plain human\nnature to be seen.\n\nBut I did not open my journal to philosophize upon national character;\nbut to record, while it is still fresh in my memory, some part of the\nconversation to which I was, as I travelled along, of necessity, and\nwhether willingly or unwillingly, a listener. To the left of me the\ncorner seats were occupied by two Englishmen--would it be possible to\nenter into a diligence without meeting at least two of our dear\ncompatriots? They were both men in the prime of life, in the full flush\nof health, and apparently of wealth, who, from allusions which they\ndropt, could evidently boast of being of good family, and what follows\nof course--of having received an university education; and whom some one\nof our northern counties probably reckoned amongst its most famous\nfox-hunters. All which hindered not, but that they proved themselves to\nbelong to that class of English travellers who scamper about the\nContinent like so many big, boisterous, presumptuous school-boys, much\nto the annoyance of every one who meets them, and to the especial\nvexation of their fellow-countrymen, who are not, in general, whatever\nmay be said to the contrary, an offensive or conceited race, and are by\nno means pleased that the name of Englishmen should be made a by-word\nand a term of contempt. Opposite to me sat a Frenchman, of rather formal\nand grave demeanour, and dressed somewhat precisely. He was placed in a\nsimilar position in the diligence to myself; he had, however, curled up\nhis leathern strap, and fastened it to the roof. Apparently he did not\nthink the posture to which it invited one of sufficient dignity; for\nduring the whole journey, and even when asleep, I observed that he\nmaintained a certain becomingness of posture. Beside me, to the right,\nsat a little lively Frenchwoman, not very young, and opposite to her,\nand consequently in front also of myself, was another lady, a person of\nextreme interest, who at once riveted the eye, and set the imagination\nat work. She was so young, so pale, so beautiful, so sad, and withal so\nexceeding gentle in her demeanour, that an artist who wished to portray\nOur Lady in her virgin purity and celestial beauty, would have been\nravished with the model. She had taken off her bonnet for the\nconvenience of travelling, and her dark brown hair hung curled round her\nneck in the same simple fashion it must have done when she was a child.\nShe was dressed in mourning, and this enhanced the pallor of her\ncountenance; ill-health and sorrow were also evidently portrayed upon\nher features; but there was so much of lustre in the complexion, and so\nmuch of light and intelligence in the eye, that the sense of beauty\npredominated over all. You could not have wished her more cheerful than\nshe was. Her face was a melody which you cannot quarrel with for being\nsad--which you could not desire to be otherwise than sad--whose very\ncharm it is that it has made the tone of sorrow ineffably sweet.\n\nMuch I mused and conjectured what her history might be, and frequently I\nfelt tempted to address myself in conversation to her; but still there\nwas a tranquillity and repose in those long eyelashes which I feared to\ndisturb. It was probable that she preferred her own reflections,\nmelancholy as they might be, to any intercourse with others, and out of\nrespect to this wish I remained silent. Not so, however, my\nfellow-traveller of her own sex, who, far from practising this\nforbearance, felt that she acted the kind and social part by engaging\nher in conversation. And so perhaps she did. For certainly, after some\ntime, the beautiful and pensive girl became communicative, and I\noverheard the brief history of her sufferings, which I had felt so\ncurious to know. It was indeed brief--it is not a three-volumed novel\nthat one overhears in a stage-coach--but it had the charm of truth to\nrecommend it. I had been lately reading Eugene Sue's romance, _The\nMysteries of Paris_, and it gave an additional interest to remark, that\nthe simple tale I was listening to from the lips of the living sufferer\nbore a resemblance to one of its most striking episodes.\n\nThe shades of evening were closing round us, and the rest of the\npassengers seemed to be preparing themselves for slumber, as, leaning\nforward on my leathern supporter, I listened to the low sweet voice of\nthe young stranger.\n\n\"You are surprised,\" she said in answer to some remark made by her\ncompanion, \"that one of our sex, so young and of so delicate health,\nshould travel alone in the diligence; but I have no relative in Paris,\nand no friend on whose protection I could make a claim. I have lived\nthere alone, or in something worse than solitude.\"\n\nHer companion, with a woman's quickness of eye, glanced at the rich\ntoilette of the speaker. It was mourning, but mourning of the most\ncostly description.\n\n\"You think,\" she continued, replying to this glance, \"that one whose\ntoilette is costly ought not to be without friends; but mine has been\nfor some time a singular condition. Wealth and a complete isolation from\nthe world have been in my fate strangely combined. They married me\"----\n\n\"What! are you a married woman and so young?\" exclaimed the lady who was\naddressed.\n\n\"I have been; I am now a widow. It is for my husband that I wear this\nmourning. They took me from the convent where I was educated, and\nmarried me to a man whom I was permitted to see only once before the\nalliance was concluded. As I had been brought up with the idea that my\nfather was to choose a husband for me, and as the Count D---- was both\nhandsome and of agreeable manners, the only qualities on which I was\nsupposed to have an opinion, there was no room for objection on my part.\nThe marriage was speedily celebrated. My husband was wealthy. Of that my\nfather had taken care to satisfy himself; perhaps it was the only point\non which he was very solicitous. For I should tell you that my father,\nthe only parent I have surviving, is one of those restless unquiet men\nwho have no permanent abode, who delight in travelling from place to\nplace, and who regard their children, if they have any, in the light\nonly of cares and encumbrances. There is not a capital in Europe in\nwhich he has not resided, and scarcely a spot of any celebrity which he\nhas not visited. It was therefore at the house of a maiden aunt--to whom\nI am now about to return--that I was married.\n\n\"I spent the first years of my marriage, as young brides I believe\ngenerally do, in a sort of trouble of felicity. I did not know how to be\nsufficiently thankful to Heaven for the treasure I found myself the\npossessor of; such a sweetness of temper and such a tenderness of\naffection did my husband continually manifest towards me. After a short\nseason of festivity, spent at the house of my aunt, we travelled\ntogether without any other companion towards Paris, where the Count had\na residence elegantly fitted up to receive us. The journey itself was a\nnew source of delight to one who had been hitherto shut up, with her\ninstructress, in a convent. Never shall I forget the hilarity, the\nalmost insupportable joy, with which the first part of this journey was\nperformed. The sun shone out upon a beautiful landscape, and there was\nI, travelling alone with the one individual who had suddenly awoke and\npossessed himself of all my affections--travelling, too, with gay\nanticipations to the glorious city of Paris, of which I had heard so\nmuch, and in which I was to appear with all the envied advantages of\nwealth.\n\n\"As we approached towards Paris, I noticed that my husband became more\nquiet and reserved. I attributed it to the fatigue of travelling, to\nwhich my own spirits began to succumb; and as the day was drawing to a\nclose, I proposed, at the next stage we reached, that we should rest\nthere, and resume our journey the next morning. But in an irritable and\nimpetuous manner, of which I had never seen the least symptom before,\nhe ordered fresh horses, and bade the postilion drive on with all the\nspeed he could. Still as we travelled he grew more sullen, became\nrestless, incommunicative, and muttered occasionally to himself. It was\nnow night. Leaning back in the carriage, and fixing my eye upon the full\nmoon that was shining brightly upon us, I tried to quiet my own spirit,\nsomewhat ruffled by this unexpected behaviour of my husband. I observed,\nafter a short time, that _his_ eye also had become riveted on the same\nbright object; but not with any tranquillizing effect, for his\ncountenance grew every minute more and more sombre. On a sudden he\ncalled aloud to the postilion to stop--threw open the carriage-door, and\nwalked in a rapid pace down towards a river that for some time had\naccompanied our course. I sprang after him. I overtook, and grasped him\nas he was in the very act of plunging into the river. O my God! how I\nprayed, and wept, and struggled to prevent him from rushing into the\nstream. At length he sat down upon the bank of the river; he turned to\nme his wild and frenzied eye--he laughed--O Heaven! he was mad!\n\n\"They had married me to a madman. Cured, or presumed to be cured, of\nhis disorder, he had been permitted to return to society; and now his\nmalady had broken out again. He who was to be my guide and protector,\nwho was my only support, who took the place of parent, friend,\ninstructor--he was a lunatic!\n\n\"For three dreadful hours did I sit beside him on that bank--at\nnight--with none to help me--restraining him by all means I could devise\nfrom renewed attempts to precipitate himself into the river. At last I\nsucceeded in bringing him back to the carriage. For the rest of the\njourney he was quiet; but he was imbecile--his reason had deserted him.\n\n\"We arrived at his house in Paris. A domestic assisted me in conducting\nhim to his chamber; and from that time I, the young wife, who the other\nmorning had conceived herself the happiest of beings, was transformed\ninto the keeper of a maniac--of a helpless or a raving lunatic. I wrote\nto my father. He was on the point of setting out upon one of his\nrambling expeditions, and contented himself with appealing to the\nrelatives of my husband, who, he maintained, were the proper persons to\ntake charge of the lunatic. They, on the other hand, left him to the\ncare of the new relations he had formed by a marriage, which had\ninterfered with their expectations and claims upon his property. Thus\nwas I left alone--a stranger in this great city of Paris, which was to\nhave welcomed me with all its splendours, and festivities, and its\nbrilliant society--my sole task to soothe and control a maniac husband.\nIt was frightful. Scarcely could I venture to sleep an hour\ntogether--night or day--lest he should commit some outrage upon himself\nor on me. My health is irretrievably ruined. I should have utterly sunk\nunder it; but, by God's good providence, the malady of my husband took a\nnew direction. It appeared to prey less upon the brain, and more upon\nother vital parts of the constitution. He wasted away and died. I indeed\nlive; but I, too, have wasted away, body and soul, for I have no health\nand no joy within me.\"\n\nJust at this time a low murmuring conversation between my two\nfellow-countrymen, at my left, broke out, much to my annoyance, into\nsudden exclamation.\n\n\"By God! sir,\" cried one of them, \"I thrashed him in the _Grande Place_,\nright before the hotel there--what's its name?--the first hotel in\nPetersburg. Yes, I had told the lout of a postilion, who had grazed my\nbritska against the curbstone of every corner we had turned, that if he\ndid it again I would _punish_ him; that is, I did not exactly _tell_\nhim--for he understood no language but his miserable Russian, of which I\ncould not speak a word--but I held out my fist in a significant manner,\nwhich neither man nor brute could mistake. Well, just as we turned into\nthe _Grande Place_, the lubber grazed my wheel again. I jumped out of\nthe carriage--I pulled him--boots and all--off his horse, and how I\ncuffed him! My friend Lord L---- was standing at the window of the\nhotel, looking out for my arrival, and was witness to this exploit. He\nwas most dead with laughter when I came up to him.\"\n\n\"I once,\" said his interlocutor, \"thrashed an English postilion after\nthe same fashion; but your Russian, with his enormous boots, must have\nafforded capital sport. When I travel I always look out for _fun_. What\nelse is the use of travelling? I and young B----, whom you may remember\nat Oxford, were at a ball together at Brussels, and what do you think we\ndid? We strewed cayenne pepper on the floor, and no sooner did the girls\nbegin to dance than they began incontinently to sneeze. Ladies and\ngentlemen were curtsying, and bowing, and sneezing to one another in the\nmost ludicrous manner conceivable.\"\n\n\"Ha! ha! ha! Excellent! By the way,\" rejoined the other, \"talking of\nBrussels, do you know who has the glory of that famous joke practised\nthere upon the statues in the park? They give the credit of it to the\nEnglish, but on what ground, except the celebrity they have acquired in\nsuch feats, I could never learn.\"\n\n\"I know nothing of it. What was it?\"\n\n\"Why, you see, amongst the statues in the little park at Brussels are a\nnumber of those busts without arms or shoulders. I cannot call to mind\ntheir technical name. First you have the head of a man, then a sort of\ndecorated pillar instead of a body, and then again, at the bottom of the\npillar, there protrude a couple of naked feet. They look part pillar and\npart man, with a touch of the mummy. Now, it is impossible to\ncontemplate such a figure without being struck with the idea, how\ncompletely at the mercy of every passer-by are both its nose--which has\nno hand to defend it--and its naked toes, which cannot possibly move\nfrom their fixed position. One may tweak the one, and tread upon the\nother, with such manifest impunity. Some one in whom this idea, no\ndoubt, wrought very powerfully, took hammer and chisel, and shied off\nthe noses and the great toes of several of these mummy-statues. And\npitiful enough they looked next morning.\"\n\n\"Well, that was capital!\"\n\n\"And the best of it is, that even now, when the noses have been put on\nagain, the figures look as odd as if they had none at all. The join is\nso manifest, and speaks so plainly of past mutilation, that no one can\ngive to these creatures, let them exist as long as they will, the credit\nof wearing their own noses. The jest is immortal.\"\n\nThe recital of this excellent piece of _fun_ was followed by another\nexplosion of laughter. The Frenchman who sat opposite to me--a man, as I\nhave said, of grave but urbane deportment, became curious to know what\nit was that our neighbours had been conversing about, and which had\noccasioned so much hilarity. He very politely expressed this wish to me.\nIf it was not an indiscretion, he should like to partake, he said, in\nthe wit that was flowing round him; adding, perhaps superfluously, that\nhe did not understand English.\n\n\"Monsieur, I am glad of it,\" I replied.\n\nMonsieur, who concluded from my answer that I was in a similar\npredicament with respect to the French language, bowed and remained\nsilent.\n\nHere the conversation to my left ceased to flow, or subsided into its\nformer murmuring channel, and I was again able to listen to my fair\nneighbours to the right. The lively dame who sat by my side had now the\nword; she was administering consolations and philosophy to the young\nwidow.\n\n\"At your age health,\" said she, \"is not irretrievable, and, sweet madam,\nyour good looks are left you. A touch of rouge upon your cheek, and you\nare quite an angel. And then you are free--you will one day travel back\nagain to Paris with a better escort than you had before.\"\n\nAnd here she gave a sigh which prepared the hearer for the disclosure\nthat was to follow.\n\n\"Now I,\" she continued, \"have been married, but, alas! am _not_ a widow.\nI have a husband standing out against me somewhere in the world. In the\ncommercial language of my father, I wish I could cancel him.\"\n\n\"What! he has deserted you?\" said her fair companion, in a sympathizing\ntone.\n\n\"You shall hear, my dear madam. My father, you must know, is a plain\ncitizen. He did not charge himself with the task of looking out a\nhusband for his girls; he followed what he called the English plan--let\nthe girls look out for themselves, and contented himself with a _veto_\nupon the choice, if it should displease him. Now, Monsieur Lemaire was a\nperfect Adonis; he dressed, and danced, and talked to admiration; no man\ndressed, danced, or talked better; his mirth was inexhaustible--his\ngood-humour unfailing.\"\n\nWell, thought I to myself, what is coming now? This lady, at all events,\nchose with her own eyes, and had her own time to choose in. Is her\nexperience to prove, that the chance of securing a good husband is much\nthe same, let him be chosen how he may?\n\n\"No wonder, then,\" continued the lady, \"that I accepted his proposal.\nThe very thought of marrying him as paradise; and I _did_ marry him.\"\n\n\"And so were really in paradise?\" said the widow, with a gentle smile.\n\n\"Yes, yes! it _was_ a paradise. It was a constant succession of\namusements; theatre, balls, excursions--all enjoyed with the charming\nLemaire. And he so happy, too! I thought he would have devoured me. We\nwere verily in paradise for three months. At the end of which time he\ncame one morning into the room swinging an empty purse in the air--'Now,\nI think,' said he with the same cheerful countenance that he usually\nwore, 'that I have proved my devotion to you in a remarkable manner.\nAnother man would have thought it much if he had made some sacrifice to\ngain possession of you for life; I have spent every farthing I had in\nthe world to possess you for three months. Oh, that those three months\nwere to live over again! But every thing has its end.' And he tossed the\nempty purse in his hand.\n\n\"I laughed at what I considered a very pleasant jest; for who did not\nknow that M. Lemaire was a man of ample property? I laughed still more\nheartily as he went on to say, that a coach stood at the door to take me\nback to my father, and begged me not to keep the coachman waiting, as in\nthat case the fellow would charge for time, and it had taken his last\nsou to pay his fare by distance. I clapped my hands in applause of my\nexcellent comedian. But, gracious Heavens! it was all true! There stood\nthe coach at the door, the fare paid to my father's house, and an empty\npurse was literally all that I now had to participate with the gay,\nwealthy, accomplished Lemaire.\"\n\n\"What!\" I exclaimed with rage and agony, as the truth broke upon me, \"do\nyou desert your wife?\"\n\n\"Desert my charming wife!\" he replied. \"Ask the hungry pauper, who turns\nhis back upon the fragrant _restaurant_, if he deserts his dinner. You\nare as beautiful, as bright, as lovely as ever--you cannot think with\nwhat a sigh I quit you!\"\n\n\"But\"----and I began a torrent of recrimination.\n\n\"'But,' said he, interrupting me, 'I have not a sou. For you,' he\ncontinued, 'you are as charming as ever--you will win your way only the\nbetter in the world for this little experience. And as for me--I have\nbeen in Elysium for three months; and that is more than a host of your\nexcellent prudent men can boast of, who plod on day after day only that\nthey may continue plodding to the end of their lives. Adieu! my\nadorable--my angel that will now vanish from my sight!' And here, in\nspite of my struggles, he embraced me with the greatest ardour, and\nthen, tearing himself away as if he only were the sufferer, he rushed\nout of the room. I have never seen him since.\"\n\n\"And such men really exist!\" said the young widow, moved to indignation.\n\"For so short a season of pleasure he could deliberately compromise the\nwhole of your future life.\"\n\n\"Is it not horrible? His father, it seems, had left him a certain sum of\nmoney, and this was the scheme he had devised to draw from it the\ngreatest advantage. _Mais, mon Dieu!_\" added the lively Frenchwoman, \"of\nwhat avail to afflict one's-self? Only if he would but die before I am\nan old woman! And then those three months\"----\n\nHere the diligence suddenly stopped, and the conductor opening the door,\ninvited us to step out and take some refreshment, and so put an end for\nthe present to this medley conversation.\n\n\n\n\nWHO WROTE GIL BLAS?\n\n\nIn the year 1783, Joseph Francisco De Isla, one of the most eminent of\nmodern Spanish writers, published a Spanish translation of Gil Blas. In\nthis work some events were suppressed, others altered, the diction was\ngreatly modified, the topographical and chronological errors with which\nthe French version abounded were allowed to remain, and the Spanish\norigin of that celebrated work was asserted on such slender grounds, and\nvindicated by such trifling arguments, as to throw considerable doubt on\nthe fact in the opinion of all impartial judges. The French were not\nslow to seize upon so favourable an occasion to gratify their national\nvanity; and in 1818, M. le Comte Francois de Neufchateau, a member of\nthe French Institute and an Ex-minister of the Interior, published a\ndissertation, in which, after a modest insinuation that the\nextraordinary merit of Gil Blas was a sufficient proof of its French\norigin, the feeble arguments of Padre Isla were triumphantly refuted,\nand the claims of Le Sage to the original conception of Gil Blas were\nasserted, to the complete satisfaction of all patriotic Frenchmen. Here\nthe matter rested, till, in 1820, Don Juan Antonio Llorente drew up his\nreasons for holding the opinion of which Isla had been the unsuccessful\nadvocate, and, with even punctilious courtesy, transmitted them before\npublication to M. Le Montey, by whose judgment in the matter he\nexpressed his determination to abide. M. Le Montey referred the matter\nto two commissioners--one being M. Raynouard, a well-known and useful\nwriter, the other M. Neufchateau, the author whom Llorente's work was\nintended to refute.\n\nThis literary commission seems to have produced as little benefit to the\npublic as if each of the members had been chosen by a political party,\nhad received a salary varying from L1500 to L2000 a-year, and been sent\ninto Ireland to report upon the condition of the people, or into Canada\nto discover why French republicans dislike the institutions of a Saxon\nmonarchy. To be sure, the advantage is on the side of the French\nacademicians; for, instead of sending forth a mass of confused,\ncontradictory, and ill-written reports, based upon imperfect evidence,\nand leading to no definite conclusion, the literary commission, as\nLlorente informs us, was silent altogether; whereupon Llorente\nattributing, not unnaturally, this preternatural silence on the part of\nthe three French _savans_, to the impossibility of finding any thing to\nsay, after the lapse of a year and a half publishes his arguments, and\nappeals to literary Europe as the judge \"en dernier ressort\" of this\nimportant controversy. Llorente, however, was too precipitate; for on\nthe 8th of January 1822, M. de Neufchateau presented to the French\nAcademy an answer to Llorente's observations, on which we shall\npresently remark.\n\nIt is maintained by the ingenious writer, Llorente--whose arguments,\nwith such additions and remarks as have occurred to us upon the subject,\nwe propose to lay before our readers,\n\n1st, That Gil Blas and the Bachiller de Salamanca were originally one\nand the same romance.\n\n2dly, That the author of this romance was at any rate a Spaniard.\n\n3dly, That his name was Don Antonio de Solis y Ribadeneira, author of\n_Historia de la Conquista de Mejico_.\n\n4thly, That Le Sage turned the single romance into two; repeating in\nboth the same stories slightly modified, and mixing them up with other\ntranslations from Spanish novels.\n\nAs the main argument turns upon the originality of Le Sage considered as\nthe author of Gil Blas, we shall first dispose in a very few words of\nthe third proposition; and for this purpose we must beg our readers to\ntake for granted, during a few moments, that Gil Blas was the work of a\nSpaniard, and to enquire, supposing that truth sufficiently established,\nwho that Spaniard was.\n\nLlorente enumerates thirty-six eminent writers who flourished in 1655,\nthe period when, as we shall presently see, the romance in question was\nwritten. Of these Don Louis de Guevarra, author of the Diablo Cojuelo,\nFrancisco de Santos, Jose Pellicer, and Solis, are among the most\ndistinguished. Llorente, however, puts all aside--and all, except\nPellicer perhaps, for very sufficient reasons--determining that Solis\nalone united all the attributes and circumstances belonging to the\nwriter of Gil Blas. The writer of Gil Blas was a Castilian--this may be\ninferred from his panegyric on Castilian wit, which he declares equal to\nthat of Athens; he must have been a dramatic writer, from his repeated\ncriticisms on the drama, and the keenness with which he sifts the merit\nof contemporary dramatic authors; he must have been a great master of\nnarrative, and thoroughly acquainted with the habits and institutions of\nhis age and country; he must have possessed the art of enlivening his\nstory with caustic allusions, and with repartees; he must have been\nperfectly conversant with the intrigues of courtiers, and have acquired\nfrom his own experience, or the relation of others, an intimate\nknowledge of the private life of Olivarez, and the details of Philip\nIV.'s court. All these requisites are united in Solis:--he was born at\nAlcala de Henares, a city of Castile; he was one of the best dramatic\nwriters of his day, the day of Calderon de la Barca. That he was a great\nhistorical writer, is proved by his _Conquista de Mejico_; his comedies\nprove his thorough knowledge of Spanish habits; and the retorts and\nquiddities of his Graciosos flash with as much wit as any that were ever\nuttered by those brilliant and fantastic denizens of the Spanish stage.\nHe was a courtier; he was secretary to Oropezo, viceroy successively of\nNavarre and of Valencia, and was afterwards promoted by Philip IV. to be\n\"Oficial de la Secretaria\" of the first minister Don Louis de Haro, and\nwas allowed, as an especial mark of royal favour, to dispose of his\nplace in favour of his relation. This happened about the year\n1654--corresponding, as we shall see, exactly with the mission of the\nMarquis de Lionne. Afterwards he was appointed Cronista Mayor de las\nIndias, and wrote his famous history. These are the arguments in favour\nof Solis, which cannot be offered in behalf of any of his thirty-six\ncompetitors. It is therefore the opinion of Llorente that the honour of\nbeing the author of Gil Blas is due to him; and in this opinion,\nsupposing the fact which we now proceed to investigate, that a Spaniard,\nand not Le Sage, was the author of the work, is made out to their\nsatisfaction, our readers will probably acquiesce.\n\nThe steps by which the argument that Gil Blas is taken from a Spanish\nmanuscript proceeds, are few and direct. It abounds in facts and\nallusions which none but a Spaniard could know: this is the first step.\nIt abounds in errors that no Spaniard could make--(by the way, this is\nmuch insisted upon by M. de Neufchateau, who does not seem to perceive\nthat, taken together with the preceding proposition, it is fatal to his\nargument:) this is the second step, and leads us to the conclusion that\nthe true theory of its origin must reconcile these apparent\ncontradictions.\n\nA Spanish manuscript does account for this inconsistency, as it would\nfurnish the transcriber with the most intimate knowledge of local\nhabits, names, and usages; while at the same time it would not guard him\nagainst mistakes which negligence or haste, or the difficulty of\ndeciphering a manuscript in a language with which the transcriber was by\nno means critically acquainted, must occasion. Still less would it guard\nhim against errors which would almost inevitably arise from the\ninsertion of other Spanish novels, or the endeavour to give the work a\nfalse claim to originality, by alluding to topics fashionable in the\ncity and age when the work was copied.\n\nThe method we propose to follow, is to place before the reader each\ndivision of the argument. We shall show a most intimate knowledge with\nSpanish life, clearly proving that the writer, whoever he is, is\nunconscious of any merit in painting scenes with which he was habitually\nfamiliar. Let any reader compare the facility of these unstudied\nallusions with the descriptions of a different age or time, even by the\nbest writers of a different epoch and country, however accurate and\ndramatic they may be--with _Quentin Durward_ or _Ivanhoe_, for instance;\nor with Barante's _Histoire des Ducs de Bourgogne_, and they will see\nthe force of this remark. In spite of art, and ability, and antiquarian\nknowledge, it is evident that a resemblance is industriously sought in\none case, and is spontaneous in the other; that it is looked upon as a\nmatter of course, and not as a title to praise, by the first class of\nwriters, while it is elaborately wrought out, as an artist's pretension\nto eminence, in the second. If Le Sage had been the original author of\nGil Blas, he would have avoided the multiplication of circumstances,\nnames, and dates; or if he had thought it necessary to intersperse his\ncomposition with them, he would have contented himself with such as were\nmost general and notorious; the minute, circuitous, and oblique\nallusions, which it required patient examination to detect, and vast\nlocal knowledge to appreciate, could not have fallen within his plan.\n\nSecondly--We shall point out the mistakes, some of them really\nsurprising even in a foreign writer, with regard to names, dates, and\ncircumstances, oversetting every congruity which it was manifestly Le\nSage's object to establish. We shall show that the Spanish novels\ninserted by him do not mix with the body of the work; and moreover we\nshall show that in one instance, where Le Sage hazarded an allusion to\nParisian gossip, he betrayed the most profound ignorance of those very\ncustoms which, in other parts of the work passing under his name, are\ndelineated with such truth of colouring, and Dutch minuteness of\nobservation.\n\nIf these two propositions be clearly established, we have a right to\ninfer from them the existence of a Spanish manuscript, as on any other\nhypothesis the claims of an original writer would be clashing and\ncontradictory.\n\nM. Neufchateau, as we have observed, reiterates the assertion that the\nerrors of Gil Blas are such as no Spaniard could commit, leaving\naltogether unguarded against the goring horn of the dilemma which can\nonly be parried by an answer to the question--how came it to pass that\nLe Sage could enumerate the names of upwards of twenty inconsiderable\ntowns and villages, upwards of twenty families not of the first class;\nand in every page of his work represent, with the most punctilious\nfidelity, the manners of a country he never saw? Nay, how came it to\npass that, instead of avoiding minute details, local circumstances, and\nthe mention of particular facts, as he might easily have done, he\naccumulates all these opportunities of mistake and contradiction,\ndescends to the most trifling facts, and interweaves them with the web\nof his narrative (conscious of ignorance, as, according to M.\nNeufchateau, he must have been) without effort and without design.\n\nLet us begin by laying before the readers the _pieces du proces_. First,\nwe insert the description of Le Sage given by two French writers.\n\n     \"Voici ce que disoit Voltaire a l'article de Le Sage, dans la\n     premiere edition du Siecle de Louis XIV.:--\n\n     \"'Son roman de Gil Blas est demeure, parcequ'il y a du naturel.'\n\n     \"Dans les editions suivantes du Siecle de Louis XIV., Voltaire\n     ajoute un fait qu'il se contente d'enoncer simplement, comme une\n     chose hors de doute; c'est que Gil Blas est pris entierement d'un\n     livre ecrit en Espagnol, et dont il cite ainsi le titre--La vidad\n     de lo Escudero Dom Marco d'Obrego--sans indiquer aucunement la\n     date, l'auteur, ni l'objet de cette vie de l'ecuyer Dom Marco\n     d'Obrego.\"\n\n     \"Extrait du Nouveau Porte-feuille historique, poetique, et\n     litteraire de Bruzen de La Martiniere.\n\n     \"'Baillet n'entendoit pas l'Espagnol. Au sujet de Louis Veles de\n     Guevarra, auteur Espagnol, dans ses jugements des savants sur les\n     poetes modernes, Sec. 1461, il dit: On a de lui plusieurs comedies qui\n     ont ete imprimees en diverses villes d'Espagne, et une piece\n     facetieuse, sous le titre El Diabolo Cojuelo, novella de la otra\n     vida: sur quoi M. de La Monnoye fait cette note. Comment un homme\n     qui fait tant le modeste et le reserve a-t-il pu ecrire un mot tel\n     que celui-la? Cette note n'est pas juste. Il semble que M. de La\n     Monnoye veuille taxer Baillet de n'avoir pas sontenu le caractere\n     de modestie, qu'il affectoit. Baillet ne faisoit pas le modeste, il\n     l'etoit veritablement par etat et par principe; et s'il eut entendu\n     le mot immodeste, ce mot lui auroit ete suspect; il eut eu recours\n     a l'original, ou il auroit trouve Diablo, et non Diabolo, Cojuelo\n     et non Cojudo, et auroit bien vite corrige la faute. Mais comme il\n     n'entendoit ni l'un ni l'autre de ces derniers mots, il lui fut\n     aise, en copiant ses extraits, de prendre un _el_ pour un _d_, et\n     de changer par cette legere difference Cojuelo, qui veut dire\n     boiteux, en Cojudo, qui signifie quelqu'un qui a de gros\n     testicules, et sobrino l'exprime encore plus grossierement en\n     Francois. M. de La Monnoye devoit moins s'arreter a l'immodestie de\n     l'epithete, qu'a la corruption du vrai titre le Guevarra.\"\n\n     \"Au reste, c'est le meme ouvrage que M. La Sage nous a fait\n     connoitre sous le titre du Diable Boiteux; il l'a tourne, a sa\n     maniere, mais avec des differences si grandes que Guevarra ne se\n     reconnoitroit qu'a peine dans cette pretendue traduction. Par\n     exemple, le chapitre xix de la seconde partie contient une aventure\n     de D. Pablas, qui se trouve en original dans un livre imprime a\n     Madrid en 1729, (sic.) L'auteur des lectures amusantes, qui ne\n     s'est pas souvenu que M. Le Sage, en avoit insere une partie dans\n     son Diable Boiteux, l'a traduite de nouveau avec assez de liberte,\n     mais pourtant en s'ecartant moins de l'original, et l'a inseree\n     dans sa premiere partie a peu pres telle qu'elle se lit dans\n     l'original Espagnol. Mais M. Le Sage l'a traitee avec de grands\n     changements, c'est sa maniere d'embellir extremement tout ce qu'il\n     emprunte des Espagnols. C'est ainsi qu'il en a use envers Gil Blas,\n     dont il a fait un chef-d'oeuvre inimitable.\"--(Pages 336-339,\n     edition de 1757, dans les _Passetemps Politiques, Historiques, et\n     Critiques_, tome 11, in 12.)\n\nAs an example of the accuracy with which Le Sage has imitated his\noriginals, we quote the annexed passages from Marcos de Obregon--Page 3.\n\n     \"En leyendo el villete, dixo al que le traia: Dezilde a vuestro\n     amo, que di goyo, que para cosas, que me inportan mucho gusto no me\n     suelo leuantar hasta las doze del dia: que porque quiere, que pare\n     matarme me leuante tan demanana? y boluiendose del otro lado, se\n     torno a dormir.\"\n\n         \"Don Mathias prit le billet, l'ouvrit, et, apres l'avoir lu, dit\n         an valet de Don Lope. 'Mon enfant, je ne me leverois jamais avant\n         midi, quelque partie de plaisir qu'on me put proposer; juge si je\n         me leverai a six heures du matin pour me battre. Tu peux dire a\n         ton maitre que, s'il est encore a midi et demi dans l'endroit ou\n         il m'attend, nous nous y verons: va, lui porter cette reponse.' A\n         ces mots il s'enfonca dans son lit, et ne tarda guere a se\n         rendormir.\"\n\n     \"No quereys que sieta ofensa hecha a un corderillo, como este? a\n     una paloma sin hiel, a un mocito tan humilde, y apazible que, aun\n     quexarse no sabe de una cosa tan mal hecha? cierto y quisiera ser\n     hombre en este punto para vegarle.\"\n\n         \"'Pourquoi,' s'ecria-t-elle avec emportement--pourquoi ne\n         voulez-vous pas que je ressente vivement l'offense qu'on a fait a\n         ce petit agneau, a cette colombe sans fiel, qui ne se plaint\n         seulement pas de l'outrage qu'il a recu? Ah! que ne suis-je homme\n         en ce moment pour le venger!\"\n\nAfter this we think we are fairly entitled to affirm, that Le Sage was\nnot considered by his contemporaries as a man of original and creative\ngenius; although he possessed, in an eminent degree, the power of\nappropriating and embellishing the works of others, that his style was\ngraceful, his allusions happy, and his wit keen and spontaneous. If any\none assert that this is to underrate Le Sage, and that he is entitled to\nthe credit of an inventor, let him cite any single work written by Le\nSage, except _Gil Blas_, in proof of his assertion. Of course _Gil Blas_\nis out of the question. Nothing could be more circular than an argument\nthat Le Sage, because he possessed an inventive genius, might have\nwritten _Gil Blas_; and that because he might have written _Gil Blas_,\nhe possessed an inventive genius. This being the case, let us examine\nhis biography. Le Sage was born in 1668 at Sargan, a small town near\nVannes in Bretagne; at twenty-seven he published a translation of\nAristoenaetus; and declining, from his love of literature, the hopes of\nadvancement, which, had he taken orders, were within his reach, he came\nto Paris, where he contracted an intimate friendship with the Abbe de\nLyonne, who settled a pension on him, taught him Spanish, and bequeathed\nto him his library--consisting, among other works, of several Spanish\nmanuscripts--at his death. His generous benefactor was the third son of\nHugo, Marquis de Lyonne, one of the most accomplished and intelligent\nmen in France. In 1656 he was set on a secret mission to Madrid; the\nobject of this mission was soon discovered in the peace of the Pyrenees\n1650, and the marriage of Maria Theresa of Austria, eldest daughter of\nPhilip IV., with Louis XIV. During his residence in Spain the Marquis de\nLyonne lived in great intimacy with Louis de Haro, Duke of Montoro. The\nMarquis de Lyonne was passionately fond of Spanish literature; he not\nonly purchased all the printed Spanish works he could procure, but a\nvast quantity of unprinted manuscripts in the same language, all which,\ntogether with the rest of his library, became at his death the property\nof his son, the Abbe de Lyonne--the friend, patron, and testator of Le\nSage. To these facts must be added another very important circumstance,\nthat Le Sage never entered Spain. Of this fact, fatal as it is to Le\nSage's claims, Padre Isla was ignorant; but it is stated with an air of\ntriumph by M. Neufchateau, is proved by Llorente, and must be considered\nincontestable. The case, then, as far as external evidence is concerned,\nstands thus. Le Sage, a master of his own language, but not an inventive\nwriter, and who had never visited Spain, contracts a friendship which\ngives him at first the opportunity of perusing, and afterwards the\nabsolute possession of, a number of Spanish manuscripts. Having\npublished several elegant paraphrases and translations of printed\nSpanish works, he published _Gil Blas_ in several volumes, at long\nintervals, as an original work; after this, he published the _Bachelier\nde Salamanque_, which he calls himself a translation from a Spanish\nmanuscript, of which he never produces the original. Did the matter rest\nhere, much suspicion would be thrown upon Le Sage's claims to the\nauthorship of _Gil Blas_; but we come now to the evidence arising, \"ex\nvisceribus causae,\" from the work itself, and the manner of its\npublication.\n\nThe chief points of resemblance between Gil Blas and the Bachelier de\nSalamanque, are the following:--\n\n1. The Bachelier de Salamanque is remarkable for his logical\nsubtilty--so is Gil Blas.\n\n2. The doctor of Salamanque, by whom the bachelor is supported after his\nfather's death, is avaricious--so is Gil Blas's uncle, the canon of\nOviedo, Gil Perez.\n\n3. The doctor recommends the bachelor of Salamanca to obtain a situation\nas tutor--the canon gives similar advice to Gil Blas.\n\n4. The bachelor is dissuaded from becoming a tutor--Fabricio dissuades\nGil Blas from taking the same situation.\n\n5. A friar of Madrid makes it his business to find vacant places for\ntutors--a friar of Cordova, in Gil Blas, does the same.\n\n6. The bachelor is obliged to leave Madrid because he is the favoured\nlover of Donna Lucia de Padilla--Gil Blas is obliged to leave the\nMarquise de Chaves for the same reason.\n\n7. Bartolome, the comedian, encourages his wife's intrigues--Melchier\nZapata does the same.\n\n8. The lover of Donna Francisca, in Granada, is a foreign nobleman kept\nthere by important business--the situation of the Marquis de Marialva is\nthe same.\n\n9. The comedian abandons an old and liberal lover, for Fonseca, who is\nyoung and poor--Laura prefers Louis de Alaga to his rival, for the same\nreason.\n\n10. Bartolome, to deceive Francisca, assumes the name of Don Pompeio de\nla Cueva--to deceive Laura, Gil Blas pretends to be Don Fernando de\nRibera.\n\n11. _Le Bachelier_ contains repeated allusions to Dominican friars, and\nparticularly to Cirilo Carambola--similar allusions abound in _Gil\nBlas_, where Louis de Aliaga, confessor of Philip III., is particularly\nmentioned.\n\n12. The character of Diego Cintillo, in the _Bachelier de Salamanque_,\nis identical with that of Manuel Ordonez in _Gil Blas_.\n\n13. An aunt of the Duke of Uzeda obtains for the bachelor the place of\nsecretary in the minister's office--Gil Blas obtains the same post by\nmeans of an uncle of the Count of Olivarez.\n\n14. The bachelor, whilst secretary at Uzeda, assists in bringing about\nhis patron's daughter's marriage--Gil Blas does the same whilst\nsecretary of the Duke of Olivarez.\n\n15. Francisca, the actress, is shut up in a convent at Carthagena,\nbecause the corregidor's son falls in love with her--Laura, in _Gil\nBlas_, is shut up in a convent, because the corregidor's only son falls\nin love with her.\n\n16. The adventures of Francisca and Laura resemble each other.\n\n17. So do those of Toston and Scipio.\n\n18. Toston and Scipio both lose their wives; and both disbelieve in\nreality, though they think proper to accept, the excuses they make on\ntheir return.\n\n19. _Finally_, in _Gil Blas_ we find a vivid description of the habits\nand manners prevalent in the European dominions of Spain during the\nreigns of Philip III. and Philip IV. But in no part of _Gil Blas_ do we\nfind any allusion to the habits and manners of the viceroy's canons,\nnuns, and monks of America; and yet Scipio is dispatched with a\nlucrative commission to New Spain. It may fairly be inferred, therefore,\nthat so vast a portion of the Spanish monarchy did not escape the notice\nof the attentive critic who wrote _Gil Blas_; and the silence can only\nbe accounted for by the fact, that the principal anecdotes relating to\nAmerica, were reserved to make out the _Bachelier de Salamanque_, from\nthe remainder of which _Gil Blas_ was taken.\n\nNow, the dates of _Gil Blas_ and the Bachelier de Salamanque were\nthese:--the two first volumes of _Gil Blas_ were published in 1715, the\nthird volume in 1724, which, it is clear, he intended to be the last.\nFirst, from the Latin verses with which it closes; and secondly, from\nthe remark of the anachronism of Don Pompeyo de Castro, which he\npromises to correct if his work gets to a new edition. In 1735 he\npublished a fourth volume of _Gil Blas_, and, in 1738, the two volumes\nof the _Bachelier de Salamanque_ as a translation. Will it be said that\nLe Sage's other works prove him to have been capable of inventing _Gil\nBlas_? It will be still without foundation. All his critics agree, that,\nthough well qualified to embellish the ideas of others, and master of a\nflowing and agreeable style, he was not an inventive or original writer.\nSuch is the language of Voltaire, M. de la Martiniere, and of Chardin,\nand even of M. Neufchateau himself; and yet, it is to a person of this\ndescription that the authorship of _Gil Blas_, second only to _Don\nQuixote_ in prose works of fiction, has been attributed.\n\nAmong the topics insisted upon by the Comte de Neufchateau as most\nclearly establishing the French origin of _Gil Blas_, an intimate\nacquaintance with the court of Louis XIV., and frequent allusions to the\nmost remarkable characters in it, are very conspicuous. But to him who\nreally endeavours to discover the country of an anonymous writer, such\nan argument, unless reduced to very minute details, and contracted into\na very narrow compass, will not appear satisfactory. He will recollect\nthat the extremes of society are very uniform, that courts resemble each\nother as well as prisons; and that, as was once observed, if King\nChristophe's courtiers were examined, the great features of their\ncharacter would be found to correspond with those of their whiter\nbrethren in Europe. The abuses of government, the wrong distribution of\npatronage, the effects of clandestine influence, the solicitations and\nintrigues of male and female favourites, the treachery of confidants,\nthe petty jealousies and insignificant struggles of place-hunters, are\nthe same, or nearly so, in every country; and it requires no great\nacuteness to detect, or courage to expose, their consequences--the name\nof Choiseul, or Uzeda, or Buckingham, or Bruhl, or Kaunitz, may be\napplied to such descriptions with equal probability and equal justice.\nBut when the Tiers Etat are portrayed, when the satirist enters into\ndetail, when he enumerates circumstances, when local manners, national\nhabits, and individual peculiarities fall under his notice; when he\ndescribes the specific disease engendered in the atmosphere by which his\ncharacters are surrounded; when, to borrow a lawyer's phrase, he\ncondescends to particulars, then it is that close and intimate\nacquaintance with the scenes and persons he describes is requisite; and\nthat a superficial critic falls, at every step into errors the most\nglaring and ridiculous. There are many passages of this description in\n_Gil Blas_ to which we shall presently allude; in the mean time let us\nfollow the advice of Count Hamilton, and begin with the beginning--\n\n     \"Me voila donc hors d'Oviedo, sur le chemin de Penaflor, au milieu\n     de la campagne, maitre de mes actions, d'une mauvaise mule, et de\n     quarante bons ducats, sans compter quelques reaux que j'avois voles\n     a mon tres-honore oncle.\n\n     \"La premiere chose que je fis, fut de laisser ma mule aller a\n     discretion, c'est-a-dire au petit pas. Je lui mis la bride sur le\n     cou, et, tirant mes ducats de ma poche, je commencai a les compter\n     et recompter dans mon chapeau. Je n'etois pas maitre de ma joie; je\n     n'avois jamais vu tant d'argent; je ne pouvois me lasser de le\n     regarder et de le manier. Je la comptois peut-etre pour la\n     vingtieme fois, quand tout-a-coup ma mule, levant la tete et les\n     oreilles, s'arreta au milieu du grand chemin. Je jugeai que quelque\n     chose l'effrayoit; je regardai ce que ce pouvoit etre. J'apercus\n     sur la terre un chapeau renverse sur lequel il y avoit un rosaire a\n     gros grains, et en meme temps j'entendis une voix lamentable qui\n     prononca ces paroles: Seigneur passant, ayez pitie, de grace, d'un\n     pauvre soldat estropie: jetez, s'il vous plait, quelques pieces\n     d'argent dans ce chapeau; vous en serez recompense dans l'autre\n     monde. Je tournai aussitot les yeux du cote d'ou partoit la voix.\n     Je vis au pied d'un buisson, a vingt ou trente pas de moi, une\n     espece de soldat qui, sur deux batons croises, appuyoit le bout\n     d'une escopette, qui me parut plus longue qu'une pique, et avec\n     laquelle il me couchoit en joue. A cette vue, qui me fit trembler\n     pour le bien de l'eglise, je m'arretai tout court; je serrai\n     promptement mes ducats; je tirai quelques reaux, et, m'approchant\n     du chapeau, dispose a recevoir la charite des fideles effrayes, je\n     les jetai dedans l'un apres l'autre, pour montrer au soldat que\n     j'en usois noblement. Il fut satisfait de ma generosite, et me\n     donna autant de benedictions que je donnia de coups de pieds dans\n     les flancs de ma mule, pour m'eloigner promptement de lui; mais la\n     maudite bete, trompant mon impatience, n'en alla pas plus vite; la\n     longue habitude qu'elle avoit de marcher pas a pas sous mon oncle\n     lui avoit fait perdre l'usage du galop.\"\n\nIn France, the custom of travelling on mules was unknown, so was the\ncoin ducats, so was that of begging with a rosary, and of extorting\nmoney in the manner in which Gil Blas describes. In fact, the \"useful\nmagnificence,\" as Mr Burke terms it, of the spacious roads in France,\nand the traffic carried on upon them, would render such a manner of\nrobbing impossible. How then could Le Sage, who had never set his foot\nin Spain, hit upon so accurate a description? Again, Rolando explains to\nGil Blas the origin of the subterraneous passages, to which an allusion\nis also made by Raphael; now such are in France utterly unknown.\n\nRolando, giving an account of his proceedings, says, that his\ngrandfather, who could only \"_dire son rosaire_,\" \"_rezar su rosario_.\"\nThis is as foreign to the habits of a \"vieux militaire Francois,\" as any\nthing that can be imagined; and, on the other hand, exactly conformable\nto those of a Spanish veteran:--\n\n     \"Nous demeurames dans le bois la plus grande partie de la journee,\n     sans apercevoir aucun voyageur qui put payer pour le religieux.\n     Enfin nous en sortimes pour retourner an souterrain, bornant nos\n     exploits a ce risible evenement, qui faisoit encore le sujet de\n     notre entretien, lorsque nous decouvrimes de loin un carrosse a\n     quatre mules. Il venoit a nous au grand trot, et il etoit\n     accompagne de trois hommes a cheval qui nous parurent bien armes.\"\n\nIn this statement are many circumstances irreconcilable with French\nhabits. 1st, A whole day passing without meeting a traveller on the\nhigh-road of Leon, an event common enough in Spain, but in France almost\nimpossible; 2d, the escort of the coach, a common precaution of the\nSpanish ladies against violence--the fact that the coach is drawn by\nmules, not horses, of which national trait six other instances may be\nfound in the same story:--\n\n     \"Plusieurs personnes me voulurent voir par curiosite. Ils venoient\n     l'un apres l'autre se presenter a une petite fenetre par ou le jour\n     entroit dans ma prison; et lorsqu'ils m'avoient considere quelque\n     temps, ils s'en alloient. Je fus surpris de cette nouveaute: depuis\n     que j'etois prisonnier, je n'avois pas vu un seul homme se montrer\n     a cette fenetre, qui donnoit sur une cour ou regnoient le silence\n     et l'horreur. Je compris par la que je faisois du bruit dans la\n     ville, mais je ne savois si j'en devois concevoir un bon ou mauvais\n     presage.\" ... \"La dessus le juge se retira, en disant qu'il alloit\n     ordonner au concierge de m'ouvrir les portes. En effet, un moment\n     apres, le geolier vint dans mon cachot avec un de ses guichetiers\n     qui portoit un paquet de toile. Ils m'oterent tous deux, d'un air\n     grave et sans me dire un seul mot, mon pourpoint et mon\n     haut-de-chausses, qui etoit d'un drap fin et presque neuf; puis,\n     m'ayant revetu d'une vieille souquenille, ils me mirent dehors par\n     les epaules.\"\n\nThis is an exact description of the manner in which prisoners were\ntreated in Spain, but bears not the slightest resemblance to any abuse\nthat prevailed at that time in France:--\n\n     \"Une fille de dix ans, que la gouvernante faisoit passer pour sa\n     niece, en depit de la medisance, vint ouvrir; et comme nous lui\n     demandions si l'on pouvoit parler au chanoine, la dame Jacinte\n     parut. C'etoit une personne deja parvenue a l'age de discretion,\n     mais belle encore; et j'admirai particulierement la fraicheur de\n     son teint. Elle portoit une longue robe d'un etoffe de laine la\n     plus commune, avec une large ceinture de cuir, d'ou pendoit d un\n     cote un trousseau de clefs, et de l'autre un chapelet a gros\n     grains\"--\"Rosario de cuentas gordas.\"--_Lib. II._ _c._ 1.\n\nThis is an exact description of a class of women well known in Spain by\nthe name Beata, but utterly unknown in France till the Soeurs de\nCharite were instituted:--\n\n     \"Pendant qu'ils etoient ensemble j'entendis sonner midi. Comme je\n     savois que les secretaires et les commis quittoient a cette heure\n     la leurs bureaux, pour aller diner ou il leur plaisoit, je laissai\n     la mon chef-d'oeuvre, et sortis pour me rendre, non chez\n     Monteser, parcequ'il m'avoit paye mes appointemens, et que j'avois\n     pris conge de lui, mais chez le plus fameux traiteur du quartier de\n     la cour.\"-_Lib. III._\n\nDuring the reign of Philip III. and Philip IV., and even till the time\nof Charles IV., twelve was the common hour of dinner, and all the public\noffices were closed: this is very unlike the state of things in Paris\nduring the reign of Louis XV., when this romance was published.\n\nIn Spain, owing in part to the hospitality natural to unsettled times\nand a simple people, in part to the few strangers who visited the\nPeninsula, inns were for a long time almost unknown, and the occupation\nof an innkeeper, who sold what his countrymen were delighted to give,\nwas considered degrading: so dishonourable indeed was it looked upon,\nthat where an executioner could not be found to carry the sentence of\nthe law into effect upon a criminal, the innkeeper was compelled to\nperform his functions: therefore the innkeepers, like usurers and other\npersons, who follow a pursuit hostile to public opinion, were profligate\nand rapacious. Don Quixote teems with instances to this effect; and\nthere are other allusions to the same circumstance in _Gil Blas_. It\nmust be observed that if M. Le Sage stumbled by accident upon so great a\npeculiarity, he was fortunate; and if it was suggested to him by his own\nenquiries, they were more profound in this than in most other instances.\nThe Barber, describing his visit to his uncle's, (1, 2, 7,) mentions the\nnarrow staircase by which he ascended to his relation's abode. Here,\nagain, is a proof of an intimate acquaintance with the structure of the\nhotels of the Spanish grandees: in all of them are to be found a large\nand spacious staircase leading to the apartments of the master, and a\nsmall one leading to those of his dependents. So the hotel in which\nFabricio lives, (3, 7, 13,) and that inhabited by Count Olivarez, are\nseverally described as possessing this appurtenance. It is singular that\nLe Sage, who seems to have been almost as fond of Paris as Socrates was\nof Athens, should have picked up this intimate knowledge of the hotels\nof Madrid. The knowledge of music and habit of playing upon the guitar\nin the front of their houses, is another stroke of Spanish manners which\nno Frenchman is likely to have thought of adding to his work (1, 2, 7.)\nMarcelina puts on her mantle to go to mass. This custom prevailed in\nSpain till the sceptre passed to the Bourbons--in many towns till the\ntime of Charles III., and in small villages till the reign of Charles\nIV. Gil Blas joins a muleteer, (1, 3, 1,) with four mules which had\ntransported merchandise to Valladolid--this method of carrying goods is\nnot known in France. The same observation applies to 3, 3, 7. Rolando\ninforms Gil Blas, (1, 3, 2,) \"Lorsqu'il eut parle de cette sorte, il\nnous fit enfermer dans un cachot, ou il ne laissa pas languir mes\ncompagnons; ils en sortirent au bout de trois jours pour aller jouer un\nrole tragique dans la grande place.\"\n\nThis exactly corresponds with the Spanish custom, which was to allow\nprisoners, capitally convicted, three days to prepare for a Christian\ndeath. Rolando continues, \"Oh! je regrette mon premier metier, j'avoue\nqu'il y a plus de surete dans le nouveau; mais il y a plus d'agrement\ndans l'autre, et j'aime la liberte. J'ai bien la mine de me defaire de\nma charge, et de partir un beau matin pour aller gagner les montagnes\nqui sont aux sources du Tage. Je sais qu'il y a dans cet endroit une\nretraite habitee par une troupe nombreuse, et remplie de sujets\nCatalans: c'est faire son eloge en un mot. Si tu veux m'accompagner,\nnous irons grosser le nombre de ces grands hommes. Je serai dans leur\ncompagnie capitaine en second; et pour t'y faire recevoir avec agrement,\nj'assurerai que je t'ai vu dix fois combattre a mes cotes.\"\n\nThe chain of mountains of Cuenca Requena Aragon y Abaracin, in which the\nTagus rises, does contain such excavations as Rolando employed for such\npurposes as Rolando mentions, (1, 3, 11.) The grace of Carlos Alfonso de\nla Ventolera in managing his cloak, was an Andalusian accomplishment,\nand an accomplishment which ceased to prevail when the Bourbons entered\nSpain. It could not have been applied to describe a Castilian, as it was\nconfined to the inhabitants of Murcia, Andalusia, Valencia, and la\nMancha. How could Le Sage have known this? When the Count Azumar dines\nwith Don Gonzalo Pacheco, the conversation turns on bull-fights, (2, 4,\n7.)\n\n     \"Leur conversation roula d'abord sur une course de taureaux qui\n     s'etoit faite depuis peu de jours. Ils parlerent des cavaliers qui\n     y avoient montre le plus d'adresse et de vigueur; et la-dessus le\n     vieux comte, tel que Nestor, a qui toutes les choses presentes\n     donnoient occasion de louer les choses passees, dit en\n     soupirant--Helas! je ne vois point aujourd'hui d'hommes comparables\n     a ceux que j'ai vus autrefois, ni les tournois ne se font pas avec\n     autant de magnificence qu'on les faisoit dans ma jeunesse.\"\n\nThis alludes to the \"Caballeros de Plaza,\" as they were called,\ngentlemen by birth animated by the love of glory, very different from\nthe hired Picadors. This custom of the Spanish gentlemen, which many of\nour fox-hunting and pheasant-shooting squires will condemn for its\ncruelty, was very common during the reigns of Philip III. and IV., but\ngradually declined, and was at last only prevalent at the _Fiestas\nReales_. The last example was known in 1789, to celebrate the _jura_ of\nthe Prince of Asturia, afterwards the pious and exemplary Ferdinand VII.\nThis must have been before his attempted parricide. Ambrosio de Lamela,\nin order to accomplish his designs on Simon, (2, 6, 1,) purchases\narticles at Chelva in Valencia, among others--\n\n     \"Il nous fit voir un manteau et une robe noire fort longue, deux\n     pourpoints avec leurs hauts-de-chausses, une de ces ecritoires\n     composees de deux pieces liees par un cordon, et dont le cornet est\n     separe de l'etui ou l'on met les plumes; une main de beau papier\n     blanc un cadenas avec un gros cachet, et de la cire verte; et\n     lorsqu'il nous eut enfin exhibe toutes ses emplettes, Don Raphael\n     lui dit en plaisantant: Vive Dieu! Monsieur Ambroise, il faut\n     avouer que vous avez fait la un bon achat.\"\n\nNow this is a faithful portrait of the inkstand, called Tintero de\nEscribano, which the Spanish scriveners always carry about with them,\nand which it is most improbable that M. Le Sage should ever have seen in\nhis life, or indeed have heard of but through the medium of a Spanish\nmanuscript. The account proceeds; and the distinction, which the reader\nwill find taken with so much accuracy, between the inquisitor and\nfamiliar of the holy office, is one which, however familiar to every\nSpaniard, it is not likely a Frenchman should be acquainted with. In\nFrance the inquisitor was confounded with the commissary, and all were\nsupposed to be Dominican friars.\n\n     \"La, mon garcon barbier etala ses vivres, qui consistoient das cinq\n     ou six oignons, avec quelques morceaux de pain et de fromage: mais\n     ce qu'il produisit comme la meilleure piece du sac, fut une petite\n     outre, remplie, disoit-il, d'un vin delicat et friand,\" (2, 6.)\n\nThis custom of carrying wine in a leathern bag, is a peculiar trait of\nSpanish manners.\n\nCatalena, the chambermaid of Guevarra, nurse of Philip IV., obtains from\nher mistress, for Ignatio, the archdeaconry of Granada, which, as \"pais\nde conquista,\" was subject to the crown's disposal:--\n\n     \"Cette soubrette, qui est la meme dont je me suis servi depuis pour\n     tirer de la tour de Segovie le seigneur de Santillane, ayant envie\n     de rendre service a Don Ignacio, engagea sa maitresse a demander\n     pour lui un benefice an Duc de Lerme. Ce ministre le fit nommer a\n     l'archidiaconat de Granade, lequel etant en pays conquis; est a la\n     nomination du roi.\"\n\nNow, that Le Sage should have been acquainted with this fact, for fact\nit unquestionably is, does appear astonishing. Till the concordat of\n1753, the kings of Spain could only present to dignities in churches\nsubject to the royal privilege, among which was this of Granada, by\nvirtue of particular bulls issued at the time of its conquest. This is a\nfact, however, with which very few Spaniards were acquainted. Antonio de\nPulgar, in his _Cronica de Los Reyes Catholicos_, c. 22, tells us that\nIsabella, \"En el proueer de las yglesias que vacaron en su tiempo, ouo\nrespecto tan recto, que pospuesta toda afficion siempre supplico al Papa\npor hombres generosos, y grandes letrados, y de vida honesta; lo que no\nse lee que con tanta diligencia ouiesse guardado ningun rey de los\npassados.\" Another remarkable passage, and to us almost conclusive, is\nthe following--\n\n     \"Je le menai au comte-duc, qui le recut tres poliment, et lui dit\n     qu'il s'etoit si bien conduit dans son gouvernement de la ville de\n     Valence, que le roi, le jugeant propre a remplir une plus grande\n     place, l'avoit nomme a la viceroyaute d'Aragon. D'ailleurs,\n     ajouta-t-il, cette dignite n'est point au-dessus de votre\n     naissance, et la noblesse Aragonoise ne sauroit murmurer contre le\n     choix de la cour.\"\n\nThis alludes to a dispute between the Spanish government and the\nAragonese, which had continued from the days of Charles V. The Aragonese\nclaimed either that the king himself should reside among them, or be\nrepresented by some person of the royal blood. Charles V. appointed, as\nviceroy of Aragon, his uncle, the Archbishop of Zaragoza, and then Don\nFernando de Aragon, his cousin. Philip II. appointed a Castilian to that\ndignity. This produced great disturbances in Aragon, and the dispute\nlasted till 1692, when the Aragonese settled the matter by putting the\nCastilian viceroy, Inigo de Mendoza, to death. His successor was an\nAragonese, Don Miguel de Luna, Conde de Morata, and he was succeeded by\nDon John of Austria, his brother. It is most improbable that M. Le Sage,\nwhose knowledge of Spanish literature was very superficial, and whose\nignorance of Spanish history was complete, should have understood this\nallusion. This, therefore, leads to the conclusion that it must have\nbeen taken from a Spanish manuscript.\n\nIn conformity with this we find Mariana saying, in the days of Ferdinand\nand Isabella--\"Los Aragoneses no querian recebir por Virrey a D. Ramon\nFolch, Conde de Cardona, que el rey tenia senalado para este cargo;\ndecian era contra sus fueros poner en el gobierno de su reyno hombre\nextrangero. Hobo demandas y respuestas, mas al fin el rey temporizo con\nellos, y nombro por Virrey a su hijo D. Alonso de Aragon, Arzobispo de\nZaragoza.\"\n\nCan any one doubt that the writer of the following passage had seen the\nspot he describes?\n\n     \"Il me fit traverser une cour, et monter par un escalier fort\n     etroit a une petite chambre qui etoit tout an haut de la tour. Je\n     ne fus pas peu surpris, en entrant dans cette chambre, de voir sur\n     une table deux chandelles, qui bruloient dans des flambeaux de\n     cuivre, et deux couverts assez propres. Dans un moment, me dit\n     Tordesillas, on va nous apporter a manger: nous allons souper ici\n     tous deux. C'est ce reduit que je vous ai destine pour logement.\n     Vous y serez mieux que dans votre cachot; vous verrez de votre\n     fenetre les bords fleuris de l'Erema, et la vallee delicieuse qui,\n     du pied des montagnes qui separent les deux Castilles, s'etend\n     jusqu'a Coca. Je suis bien que vous serez d'abord peu sensible a\n     une si belle vue, mais quand le temps aura fait succeder une douce\n     melancolie a la vivacite de votre douleur, vous prendrez plaisir a\n     promener vos regards sur des objets si agreables.\"\n\nThese notices of reference, taken at random, are all adapted to the\nplaces at which they are found--the narrative leads to them by regular\napproximation, or they are suggested by the subject and occasion which\nit draws forth. To introduce a given story into the body of a writing\nwithout abruptness, or marks of unnatural transition,\n\n        \"Ut per laeve moventes,\n    Effundat junctura ungues.\"\n\nis, as Paley observes, one of the most difficult artifices of\ncomposition; and here are upwards of a hundred Spanish names,\ncircumstances, and allusions, incorporated with the story written, as M.\nNeufchateau assures us, by a Frenchman concerning the court of Louis\nXIV. A line touching on truth in so many points, could never have been\ndrawn accidentally; it is the pencil thrown luckily full upon the\nhorse's mouth, and expressing the foam which the painter, with all his\nskill, could not represent without it. Let the reader observe how\ndifficult Le Sage has found the task of connecting the anecdotes taken\nfrom Marcos de Obregon, and put into the mouth of Diego, with the main\nstory. How awkward is this transition? \"Le _seigneur_ Diego de La Fuente\nme raconta d'autres aventures encore, qui lui etoient arrivees depuis;\nmais elles me semblent si peu dignes d'etre rapportees, que je les\npasserai sous silence.\"\n\nThe next branch of the argument which we are called upon to consider,\nrelates to the Spanish words in _Gil Blas_, which imply the existence of\na Spanish manuscript. The names Juan, Pedro, often occur in Le Sage's\nwork, and Pierre, Jean, are sometimes used in their stead. The word\n_Don_ is prefixed by the Spaniards to the Christian, and never to the\nsurname, as Don Juan, Don Antonio, not Don Mariana, Don Cervantes. In\nFrance, _Dom_, its synonyme, is, on the contrary, prefixed to the\nsurname--as Dom Mabillon, Don Calmet. Le Sage always adheres to the\nSpanish custom. The robber who introduces Gil Blas to the cavern, says,\n\"Tenez, Dame Leonarde, voici un jeune garcon,\" &c. Again, \"On dressa\ndans le salon une grande table, et l'on me renvoya dans la cuisine, ou\nla _Dame_ Leonarde m'instruisit de ce que j'avais a faire.... Et comme\ndepuis sa mort c'etoit la _Senora Leonarda_ qui avoit l'honneur de\npresenter le nectar a ces dieux infernaux,\" &c. This expression \"Senora\nLeonarda,\" is much in favour of a Spanish original; why should not Le\nSage have repeated the expression \"Dame Leonarde,\" on which we have a\nfew observations to offer, had it not been that he thought the word\nunder his eyes at the moment would lend grace and vivacity to the\nnarrative. A French writer would have said, \"Tenez, Leonarde,\" or\nperhaps, \"Tenez, Madame Leonarde;\" but such a phrase as \"Tenez, Dame\nLeonarde,\" in a French writer, can be accounted for only by the\ntranslation of \"senora.\" So we have \"la Senora Catalena,\" (7, 12)--\"la\nSenora Sirena,\" (9, 7)--and \"la Senora Mencia,\" (8, 10) of the French\nversion, and instead of \"une demoiselle,\" \"une jeune dame,\" which is a\ntranslation of \"senorita.\" In giving an account of his projected\nmarriage with the daughter of Gabriel Salero, Gil Blas says, (9,\n1)--\"C'etoit un bon bourgeois qui etoit comme nous disons poli hasta\nporfiar. Il me presenta la Senora Eugenia, sa femme, et la jeune\nGabriela, sa fille.\" Here are three Spanish idioms--\"hasta porfiar,\"\nwhich Le Sage thinks it necessary to explain, \"la Senora Eugenia,\"\n\"Gabriela.\" Diego de la Fuente tells his friend, \"J'avois pour maitre de\ncet instrument un vieux 'senor escudero,' a qui je faisois la barbe. Il\nse nommoit Marcos Dobregon.\" A French author, instead of \"senor\nescudero,\" would have said, \"vieux ecuyer;\" a Spanish transcriber would\nhave written \"Marcos de Obregon.\" We have (x. 3, 11) \"Senor Caballero\ndes plus lestes,\" \"romances\" instead of \"romans,\" (1, 5,) \"prado\"\ninstead of \"pre,\" twice, (4, 10; 7, 13.)\n\nLaura says--\"Un jour il nous vint en fantaisie a Dorothee et a moi\nd'aller voir joner les comediens de Seville. Ils avaient affiche qu'ils\nrepresentaient _la famosa comedia_, et Embajador de si mismo, de Lope de\nVega Carpio.... En fin le moment que j'attendais etant arrive,\nc'est-a-dire, la fin de _la famosa comedia_, nous nous en allames.\" We\nhave \"hidalgo\" instead of \"gentilhomme\" three times; \"contador mayor\"\ntwice, once used by Chinchillo, again by the innkeeper at Suescas,\n\"oidor\" instead of \"juge\" or \"membre de la cour royale,\" \"escribano\"\ninstead of \"notaire,\" (8, 9.) \"Hospital de ninos\" instead of \"hospice\ndes enfans orphelins,\" \"olla podrida\" three times \"marmalada de\nberengaria,\" (9, 4,) and \"picaro\" instead of \"fripon,\" (4, 10, 12.)\nScipio says, \"un jour comme je passois aupres de l'eglise de los reyes.\"\nThere is at Toledo a church named \"San Juan de los Reyes.\" How could Le\nSage, who never had been in Spain, know this fact? Gil Blas thus relates\nan event at Valencia--\"Je m'en approchai pour apprendre pourquoi je\nvoyois la un si grand concours d'hommes et de femmes, et bientot je fus\nau fait, en lisant ces paroles ecrites en lettres d'or sur une table de\nmarbre noir, qu'il-y avait audessus de la porte, '_La posada de los\nrepresentantes_,' et les comediens marquaient dans leur affiche qu'ils\njoueraient ce jour-la pour la premiere fois une tragedie nouvelle de Don\nGabriel Triaguero.\" This passage is an attestation of the fact, that\nduring the reign of Philip IV. the buildings of the Spanish provinces in\nwhich dramatic performances were represented were at the same time the\nresidence, \"posada,\" of the actors--a custom even now not altogether\nextinguished; but which Le Sage could only know through the medium of a\nSpanish manuscript. Gil Blas, imprisoned in the tower of Segovia, hears\nDon Gaston de Cavallos sing the following verses--\n\n    \"Ayde nie un ano _felice_\n    Parece un soplo ligero\n    Pero sin duda un instante\n    Es un siglo de tormento.\"\n\nWhere did Le Sage find these verses, sweet, gracious, and idiomatic as\nthey are? The use of the word \"felice\" for \"feliz\" is a poetical\nlicense, and displays more than a stranger's knowledge of Spanish\ncomposition. It has been said that Smollett has left many French words\nin his translation of Gil Blas, and that too strong an inference ought\nnot to be drawn from the employment of Spanish phrases by Le Sage. But\nwhat are the words? Are they words in the mouth of every one, and such\nas a superficial dilettante might easily pick up; or do they, either of\nthemselves or from the conjunctures in which they are employed, exhibit\na consummate acquaintance with the dialect and habits of the people to\nwhich they refer? Besides, it should be remembered that French is a\nlanguage far more familiar to well-educated people in England, than\nSpanish ever was to the French, and that Smollett had lived much in\nFrance; whereas Le Sage knew from books alone the language which he has\nemployed with so much colloquial elegance and facility. We now turn to\nthe phrases and expressions in French which Le Sage has manifestly\ntranslated.\n\nThe first word which occurs in dealing with this part of the subject is\n\"seigneur\" as a translation for \"senor;\" \"seigneur\" in France was not a\nsubstitute for \"monsieur,\" which is the proper meaning of \"senor.\" On\nthe use of the word \"dame\" we have already commented. Instead of Dame\nLeonarde and Dame Lorenzo Sephora, a French writer would have put\n\"Madame\" or \"la cuisiniere,\" or \"la femme de chambre,\" as the case might\nbe. So the exclamation of the highwayman, \"Seigneur passant,\" &c., must\nbe a translation of \"Senor passagero.\" Describing the parasite at\nPenaflor, Gil Blas says, \"le cavalier portait une longue rapiere, et il\ns'approcha de moi d'un air empresse, _Seigneur_ ecolier, me dit-il, je\nviens d'apprendre que vous etes le _seigneur_ Gil Blas de Santillane.\nJe lui dis, _seigneur_ cavalier, je ne croyois pas que mon nom fut connu\na Penaflor.\" \"Le cavalier\" means a man on horseback, which is not a\ndescription applicable to the parasite; \"chevalier\" is the French word\nfor the member of a military order. \"Cet homme,\" or \"ce monsieur,\" would\nhave been the expression of Le Sage if \"este caballero\" had not been in\nthe manuscript to be copied. \"Carillo\" for \"Camillo,\" \"betancos\" for\n\"betangos,\" \"rodillas\" for \"revilla;\" and yet M. Le Sage is not\nsatisfied with making his hero walk towards the Prado of Madrid, but\ngoes further, and describes it as the \"pre de Saint Jerome\"--Prado de\nSte Geronimo, which is certainly more accurate. Again he speaks of \"la\nRue des Infantes\" at Madrid, (8, 1)--\"De los Infantos is the name of a\nstreet in that city--and in the same sentence names \"une vieille dame\nInesile Cantarille.\" Inesilla is the Spanish diminutive of Ines, and\nCantarilla of Cantaro. The last word alludes to the expression \"mozas de\nCantaro,\" for women of inferior degree. Philip III. shuts up Sirena\n\"dans la maison des repenties.\" This is also the name of a convent at\nMadrid, called \"casa de las arrepentidas.\" But a still stronger argument\nin favour of the existence of a Spanish manuscript, is to be found in\nthe passage which says that Lucretia, the repentant mistress of Philip\nIV., \"quitte tout a coup le monde, et se ferme dans le monastere de la\n_Incarnacion_;\" that having been founded by Philip III. in compliance\nwith the will of Dona Margarita, his wife, it was reserved expressly for\nnuns connected in some way with the royal family of Spain; and that\ntherefore Lucretia, having been the mistress of Philip IV., was entitled\nto become a member of it.\n\n\"Nous apercumes _un religieux de l'ordre de Saint Domingue_, monte,\n_contre l'ordinaire de ces bons peres, sur une mauvaise mule_.{A} _Dieu\nsoit loue_, s'ecria le capitaine.\" In this sentence all the passages in\nItalics are of Spanish origin. \"_Seigneur cavalier_, vous etes bien\nheureux qu'on se soit adresse a moi plutot qu'a un autre: je ne veux\npoint decrier mes confreres: a _Dieu ne plaise_ que je fasse le moindre\ntort a leur reputation: mais, entre nous, il n'y en a pas un qui ait de\nla conscience--_ils sont tous plus durs que des Juifs_. Je suis le seul\nfripier qui ait de la morale: je ne borne a un prix raisonable; je me\ncontente de la livre pour sou--je veux dire du sou pour livre. _Graces\nau ciel_, j'exerce rondement ma profession.\" Here we find \"Seigneur\ncavalier,\" \"a Dieu ne plaise,\" which is the common Spanish phrase, \"no\npermita Dios,\" \"Graces an ciel,\" instead of \"Dieu merci,\" from \"Gracias\na Dios.\" A little further we find the phrase \"_Seigneur gentilhomme_,\"\nwhich can only be accounted for as a translation of \"Senor hidalgo;\"\n\"garcon de famille,\" (1, 17,) \"benefice simple,\" (11, 17) are neither of\nthem French expressions. \"The virtuous Jacintha,\" says Fabricio, \"merite\nd'etre la gouvernante du patriarche des Indes.\" Now, it is impossible\nthat the existence of such a dignity as this should have been known at\nParis. It was of recent creation, and had been the subject of much\nconversation at Madrid. \"Garcon de bien et d'honneur,\" (1, 2, 1,) \"un\nmozo, hombre de bien y de honor.\" \"Je servis un potage qu'on auroit pu\npresenter _au plus fameux directeur de Madrid_, et deux entrees qui\nauroient eu de quoi piquer la sensualite _d'un viceroi_.\" It is\nimpossible not to see that the first of the phrases in italics is a\ntranslation \"del director mas famoso de Madrid;\" first, because a\nFrenchman would have used \"celebre,\" and secondly, because the word\n\"director\" in a different sense from that of confessor was unknown at\nMadrid. The allusion to the Viceroy, a functionary unknown to the French\ngovernment, also deserves notice. The notaire, hastening to Cedillo,\ntakes up hastily \"son manteau et son chapeau.\" This infers a knowledge\non the part of the writer that the Spanish scrivener never appeared,\nhowever urgent the occasion, without his \"capa.\" We have the word\n\"laboureurs\" applied to substantial farmers, (1, 2, 7.) This is a\ntranslation of \"labradores,\" to which the French word does not\ncorrespond, as it means properly, men dependent on daily labour for\ntheir daily bread. \"J'ai fait elever,\" says the schoolmaster of Olmedo,\n\"un theatre, sur lequel, Dieu aidant, je ferai representer par mes\n_disciples_ une piece que j'ai composee. Elle a pour titre les jeunes\namours de Muley Bergentuf Roi de Moroi.\" \"_Disciples_\" is a translation\nof \"discipulos.\" A French writer would have said \"eleves.\" Again, the\ntitle of the Pedant's play is thoroughly Spanish. It was intended to\nridicule the habit which prevailed in Spain, after the expulsion of the\nMoriscoes in 1610, of adapting for the stage Moorish habits and\namusements, by making a stupid pedant in an obscure village, select them\nas the subject of his tragedy.\n\nDescribing the insolence of the actors, Gil Blas says, \"Bien loin de\ntraiter d'excellence les seigneurs, elles ne leur donnoient pas meme _de\nla seigneurie_.\" This would hardly be applicable to the manners of the\nFrench. The principal of Lucinde's creditors, \"se nommoit Bernard\nAstuto, qui meritoit bien son nom.\" The signification of the name is\nclear in Spanish; but in French the allusion is totally without meaning.\nThis probably escaped Le Sage in the hurry of composition, or it would\nhave been easy to have removed so clear a mark of translation. The\nfollowing mark is still stronger. Speaking of Simon, the bourgeois of\nChelva, he says--\"Certain Juif, qui s'est fait Catholique, mais dans le\nfond de l'ame il est encore _Juif comme Pilate_.\" Now, the lower classes\nof Spain perpetually fall into this error of calling Pilate a Jew; and\nthis is a trait which could hardly have occurred to a foreign writer,\nhowever well acquainted with Spain, much less to a writer who had never\nset his foot in that country. Here we cannot help observing, that the\nwhole scene from which this passage is taken is eminently Spanish. In\nSpain only was such a proceeding possible as the scheme for deprecating\nSimon, executed by Lucinda and Raphael. The character of the victim, the\nnature of the fraud, the absence of all suspicion which such proceedings\nwould necessarily provoke in any other country, are as conclusive proofs\nof Spanish origin as moral evidence can supply. Count Guliano is found\nplaying with an ape, \"pour dormir _la siesta_.\" Lucretia says to Gil\nBlas, \"Je vous rends de tres humbles graces,\" \"doy a usted muy umildes\ngracias.\" A French writer would have said, \"Je vous remercie\ninfiniment.\" Melendez is described as living \"a la Porte du Soleil du\ncoin de la Rue des Balustrees,\" \"esquina de la Calle de Cofreros.\" There\nis such an alley as this, but it is unknown to ninety-nine Spaniards in\na hundred. Beltran Moscada tells Gil Blas, \"Je vous reconnois bien,\nmoi--nous avons joue mille fois tous deux _a la Gallina ciega_.\" This Le\nSage thinks it necessary to explain by a note, to inform his readers\nthat it is the same as \"Colin Maillard.\" From all these various phrases\nand expressions, scattered about in different passages of Gil Blas, and\ntaken almost at random from different parts of the work, the conclusion\nthat it was copied from a Spanish manuscript appears inevitable.\n\nLe Sage has named Sacedon, Buendia, Fuencarrat, Madrid, Campillo,\nAragon, Penaflor, Castropot, Asturias; Salcedo, Alava; Villaflor,\nCebreros, Avila; Tardajos, Kevilla, Puentedura, Burgos; Villar-de-saz;\nAlmodovar, Cuenca; Almoharin, Monroy, Estremadura; Adria, Gavia, Vera,\nGranada; Mondejar, Gualalajara; Vierzo, Ponferrada, Cacabelos, Leon;\nCalatrava, Castilblanco, Mancha; Chinchilla, Lorque, Murcia; Duenas,\nPalencia; Colmenar, Coca, Segovia; Carmona, Mairena, Sevilla; Cobisa,\nGalvez, Illescas, Loeches, Maqueda, Kodillas, Villarejo, Villarrubia,\nToledo; Bunol, Chelva, Chiva; Gerica, Liria Paterna, Valencia;\nAtaquines, Benavente, Mansilla, Mojados, Olmedo, Penafiel, Puente de\nDuero, Valdestillas, Valladolid.\n\nThe story of _Gil Blas_ contains the names of no less than one hundred\nand three Spanish villages and towns of inferior importance, many of\nthem are unknown out of Spain--such as Albarracin, Antequera, Betanzos,\nCiudad Real, Coria, Lucena, Molina, Mondonedo, Monzon, Solsona,\nTrujillo, Ubeda.\n\nThere are also cited the names of thirteen dukes--Alba, Almeida,\nBraganza, Frias (condestable de Castilia,) Lerma, Medina-celi, Medina de\nRioseco, (almirante de Castilia,) Medina-Sidonia, Medina de las Tarres\n(Marques de Toral,) Mantua, Osuna, Sanlucar la Mayor y Uceda. Eleven\nmarquises--De Almenara, Carpia, Chaves, Laguardia, Leganes, Priego,\nSantacruz, Toral, Velez, Villa-real y Zenete. Eight condes--De Azumar,\nGaliano, Lemos, Montanos, Niebla, Olivares, Pedrosa y Polan. Of these\nfour only are fictitious. It is remarkable also, that one title cited in\n_Gil Blas_, that of Admirante de Castilia, did not exist when Le Sage\npublished his romance--Felipe V. having abolished it, to punish the\nholder of that dignity for having embraced the cause of the house of\nAustria. Nor are there wanting the names of persons celebrated in their\nday among the inhabitants of the Peninsula. Such are Fray Luis Aliago,\nconfessor of Philip III., Archimandrite of Sicily, and inquisitor-general,\nDon Rodrigo Calderon, secretary of the king, Calderon de la Barca,\nAntonio Carnero, secretary of the king, Philip IV., Cervantes, Geronimo\nde Florencia, Jesuit preacher of Philip IV., Fernando de Gamboa, one of\nthe gentlemen of his bedchamber, Luis de Gongora, Ana de Guevarra, his\nnurse, Maria de Guzman, only daughter of Olivarez, Henry Philip de\nGuzman, his adopted son, Baltasar de Zuniga, uncle of Olivarez, Lope de\nVega Carpio, Luis Velez de Guevarra, Juana de Velasco, making in all\nnineteen persons. There are the names of not only thirty-one families of\nthe highest class in Spain, as Guzman, Herrera, Mendoza, Acuna, Avila,\nSilva, &c., but twenty-five names belonging to less illustrious, but\nstill distinguished families; and twenty-nine names really Spanish, but\napplied to imaginary characters. This makes a list of eighty-five names,\nwhich it seems impossible for any writer acquainted only with the lighter\nparts of Spanish literature to have accumulated. Nor should it be\nforgotten that there are forty-five names, intended to explain the\ncharacter of those to whom they are given, like Mrs Slipslop and Parson\nTrulliber, retained by Gil Blas, notwithstanding the loss of their\noriginal signification. Doctor Andros don Anibal de Chinchilla, Alcacer,\nApuntador, Astuto, Azarini, Padre Alejos y Don Abel, Buenagarra,\nBrutandof, Campanario Chilindron, Chinchilla, Clarin, Colifichini, Cordel,\nCoscolina, Padre Crisostomo, Doctor Cuchillo, Descomulgado, Deslenguado,\nEscipion, Forero, Guyomar, Ligero, Majuelo, Mascarini, Melancia, Mogicon,\nMontalban, Muscada, Nisana, Doctor Oloroso, Doctor Oquetos, Penafiel,\nPinares, Doctor Sangrado, Stheimbach, Samuel Simon, Salero, Talego, Touto,\nToribio, Triaquero, Ventolera, Villaviciosa, are all names of this sort.\nWho but a Spaniard, then, was likely to invent them? Were there no other\nargument, the case for Spain might almost safely be rested on this issue.\nBut this is not all, since the mistakes, orthographical and geographical,\nwhich abound in the French edition of _Gil Blas_, carry the argument\nstill further, and place it beyond the reach of reasonable contradiction.\nThe reader will observe, that much of the question depends upon the fact,\nadmitted on all sides, that Le Sage did not transcribe his version from\nany printed work, but from a manuscript. Had Le Sage merely inserted\nstories here and there taken from Spanish romances, his claims as an\noriginal writer would hardly be much shaken by their discovery, supposing\nthe plot, with which they were skilfully interwoven, and the main bulk\nand stamina of the story, to be his own. But where the errors are such as\ncan only be accounted for by mistakes, not of the press, but of the\ncopies of a manuscript, and are fully accounted for in that manner--where\nthey are so thickly sown, as to show that they were not errors made by a\nperson with a printed volume before his eyes, but by a person deciphering\na manuscript written in a language of which he had only a superficial\nacquaintance, no candid enquirer will hesitate as to the inference to\nwhich such facts lead, and by which alone they can be reconciled with the\nprofound and intimate knowledge of Spanish literature, habits, and\nmanners, to which we have before adverted. The innkeeper of Penaflor is\nnamed _Corcuelo_ in the French version, an appellation utterly without\nmeaning. The real word was _Corzuelo_, a diminutive from _corzo_, which\ncarries a very pointed allusion to the character of the person. It was\nusual to write instead of the _z_--_c_ with a cedilla, and this was\nprobably the origin of the mistake. The innkeeper of Burgos is called in\nthe French text _Manjuelo_, which is not Spanish, and is equally\nunmeaning. The original undoubtedly was _Majuelo_, the diminutive of\n_Majo_, which is very significant of the class to which the person\nbearing the name belonged. The person to whom Gil Blas applies for a\nsituation at Valladolid, is called in the French text _Londona_. The real\nword is Londono, the name of a village near Orduna, in Biscay. _Inesile_\nis the name given to the niece of Jacinta. This is instead of _Inesilla_,\nand corresponds with the French Agnes. Castel Blargo is used for Castel\nBlanco. Rodriguez says to his master, \"Je ne touche pas un marave_dis_ de\nvos finances.\" The word in the manuscript was _marivedi_. Le Sage has\nused the plural for the singular. \"Seguier,\" a proper name, is used for\n\"Seguiar.\" \"De la Ventileria\" is the unmeaning name given to a frivolous\ncoxcomb, instead of \"De la Ventilera.\" Le Sage, speaking of the same\nperson, sometimes calls her \"Dona _K_imena de Guzman,\" and sometimes\n\"Dona _Ch_imena,\" a manifest proof that \"Dona _X_imena\" was written in\nthe work from which he transcribed; as the French substitute sometimes\n_k_ and sometimes _ch_, for the Spanish _x_.\n\n  Pedros is used for Pedroga, (the name of a noble family.)\n  Moyades for Miagades, (a village.)\n  Zendero for Zenzano, (do.)\n  Salceda for Salcedo, (do.)\n  Calderone for Calderon.\n  Oliguera for Lahiguera.\n  Niebles for Niebla.\n  Jutella for Antella.\n  Leiva for Chiva.\n\nAfter Gil Blas's promotion, he says that his haughty colleague treated\nhim with more respect; and this is expressed in such a way as to show\nthat Le Sage was ignorant of Spanish etiquette, and did not understand\nthoroughly the meaning of what he transcribed. \"Il Don Rodrigo de\nCalderone ne m'appela plus que Seigneur de Santillane, lui qui\njusqu'alors ne m'avoit traite que de _vous_, sans jamais se servir du\nterme de seigneurie,\" supposing the meaning equivalent--whereas, in\nfact, though Gil Blas might complain of not being addressed in the third\nperson, which would draw with it the use of senor, and was a common form\nof civility--it would have been ridiculous to represent him as addressed\nby a name, senoria, to which none but people of high station and\nillustrious rank were entitled. But Le Sage supposed that every one\naddressed as senor, might also be spoken of by the term senoria; a\nmistake against which a very moderate knowledge of Spanish usages would\nhave guarded him. We may illustrate this by a quotation from Navarete:--\n\n     \"En este estado enviaron a decir a Magallanes.... Que si se queria\n     avenir a lo que cumpliese, al servicio de S. M. estarian a lo que\n     les mandase, y que si hasta entonces le dieron tratamiento de\n     merced, _en adelante se lo darian de senoria_, y le besarian pies y\n     manos.\"\n\nThis was intended as a proof of the greatest reverence by the mutineers,\nwhom, notwithstanding this submission, Magallanes took an early\nopportunity to destroy.\n\nGil Blas relates the absurd resolution of the Conde Duque D'Olivarez, to\nadopt the son of a person with whom he, among others, had intrigued as\nhis own. This anecdote was well known in Spain. The supposed father of\nthis youth was an alcalde de corte, called Valcancel; and _he_ had been\nrivaled by an alguazil. The son was called in the early part of his life\nJulian Valcancel. When adopted by Olivarez, he took the name of Eurique\nFelipe de Guzman, which the people said ought to be exchanged for that\nof Del Alguazil del Alcalde de Corte. Olivarez divorced him from the\nwoman to whom he was certainly married, and obliged him to marry the\ndaughter of the Duca de Frias. He was called by the people of Madrid a\nman with two names, the son of three fathers, and the husband of two\nwives. Le Sage, by substituting the name of Valdeasar for that of\nValcancel, proves that he was ignorant of the whole transaction. In the\n_auto da fe_ which Gil Blas sees at Toledo, and in which his old friends\nterminate their adventures in so tragical a manner--some of the guilty\nare represented as wearing _carochas_ on their heads. This is a word\naltogether without meaning; the real word was _corozas_, a cap worn by\ncriminals as a badge of degradation.\n\nAnother mistake deserves attention, as supplying the strongest proof of\nan inaccurate transcriber. \"J'espere,\" says Maitre Joachim to his\nmaster, \"que je vous servirai tantot un ragout digne d'un _can_tador\nmayor.\" The word was not \"_can_tador,\" but \"_con_tador mayor,\" the\n\"ministro de hacienda,\" or chancellor of the exchequer; a situation\nunder a despotic government of the highest dignity and opulence. So Don\nAnnibal de Chinchilla exclaims--\"Me croit-elle un contador mayor,\" when\nrepelling a demand of a rapacious prostitute. But Le Sage mistook the\n_o_ of his manuscript for an _a_, and turned a phrase very intelligible\ninto nonsense. We now come to the passage which M. Neufchateau quotes as\ndecisive in favour of Le Sage's claims. It certainly was to be found in\nno Spanish manuscript.\n\n     \"Don Louis nous mena chez un jeune gentilhomme de ses amis, qu'on\n     appeloit don Gabriel de Pedros. Nous y passames le reste de la\n     journee; nous y soupames meme, et nous n'en sortimes que sur les\n     deux heures apres minuit pour nous en retourner au logis. Nous\n     avions peut-etre fait la moitie du chemin, lorsque nous\n     rencontrames sous nos pieds dans la rue deux hommes etendus par\n     terre. Nous jugeames que c'etoient des malheureux qu'on venoit\n     d'assassiner, et nous nous arretames pour les secourir, s'il en\n     etoit encore temps. Comme nous cherchions a nous instruire, autant\n     que l'obscurite de la nuit nous le pouvoit permettre, de l'etat ou\n     ils se trouvoient, la patrouille arriva. Le commandant nous prit\n     d'abord pour des assassins, et nous fit environner par ses gens;\n     mais il eut meilleure opinion de nous lorsqu'il nous eut entendus\n     parler, et qu'a la faveur d'une lanterne sourde, il vit les traits\n     de Mendoce et de Pacheco. Ses archers, par son ordre, examinerent\n     les deux hommes que nous nous imaginions avoir ete tues; et il se\n     trouva que c'etoit un gros licencie avec son valet, tous deux pris\n     de vin, ou plutot ivres-morts. 'Messieurs,' s'ecria un des archers,\n     'je reconnois ce gros vivant. Eh! c'est le seigneur licencie\n     Guyomar, recteur de notre universite. Tel que vous le voyez, c'est\n     un grand personnage, un genie superieur. Il n'y a point de\n     philosophe qu'il ne terrasse dans une dispute; il a un flux de\n     bouche sans pareil. C'est dommage qu'il aime un peu trop de vin, le\n     proces, et la grisette. Il revient de souper de chez son Isabella,\n     ou, par malheur, son guide s'est enivre comme lui. Ils sont tombes\n     l'un et l'autre dans le ruisseau. Avant que le bon licencie fut\n     recteur, cela lui arrivoit assez souvent. Les honneurs, comme vous\n     voyez, ne changent pas toujours les moeurs.' Nous laissames ces\n     ivrognes entre les mains de la patrouille, qui eut soin de les\n     porter chez eux. Nous regagnames notre hotel, et chacun ne songea\n     qu'a se reposer.\"\n\nNow this story pierces to the heart the theory which M. Neufchateau\ncites it in order to establish. It is an anecdote incorporated by Le\nSage with the rest of the work; and how well it tallies with a Spanish\nstory, and the delineation of Spanish manners, let the reader judge. The\nrector of the university of Salamanca was required to unite a great\nvariety of qualifications. In the first place, his birth must have been\nnoble for several generations; not perhaps as many as a canon of\nStrasburg was required to trace, but more than it was possible for the\ngreat majority even of well born gentlemen to produce. The situation,\nindeed, was generally conferred upon the members of the second class of\nnobility, and very often upon those of the first. He was a judge, with\nroyal and pontifical privileges, exempt from the authority of the bishop\nin ecclesiastical, and from the royal tribunals in secular, matters. His\nmorals were sifted with the strictest scrutiny; and yet this dignified\necclesiastic is the person whom Le Sage represents as lying in the\nstreets stupefied with intoxication, and this not from accident, but\nfrom habitual indulgence in a vice which, throughout Spain, is\nconsidered infamous, and which none but those who are below the\ninfluence of public opinion, and even those but in rare instances, are\never known to practise. To call a man a drunkard in Spain, is considered\na worse insult than to call him a thief; and the effect of the story is\nthe same as if a person, pretending to describe English manners, were to\nrepresent the Lord Chancellor as often in custody on a charge of\nshoplifting, and permitted, in consideration of his abilities, still to\nremain in office and exercise the duties of his station.\n\nThe principal topographical errors are the following:--Dona Mencia names\nto Gil Blas two places on the road near Burgos--these she calls Gofal\nand Rodillas; the real names are Tardagal and Revilla, (1, 11;) Ponte de\nMula is put for Puenta Duro, (1, 13;) Luceno for Luyego; Villardera for\nVillar del Sa, (5, 1;) Almerim for Almoharia, (5, 1;) Sliva for Chiva,\n(7, 1;) Obisa for Cobisa, (10, 10;) Sinas for Linas; Mililla for\nMelilla; Arragon for Aragon. Describing his journey from Madrid to\nOviedo, Gil Blas says they slept the first night at Alcala of Henares,\nand the second at Segovia. Now Alcala is not on the road from Madrid to\nSegovia, nor is it possible to travel in one day from one of these\ncities to the other--probably Galapagar was the word mistaken. Penafiel\nis mentioned as lying on the road from Segovia to Valladolid, (10, 1;)\nthis is for Portillo. Now, if Le Sage had invented the story, and\nclothed it with names of Spanish cities and villages, taken from\n_printed_ books, can any one suppose that he could have fallen into all\nthese errors?\n\nA thread of Spanish history winds through the whole story of _Gil Blas_,\nand keeps every circumstance in its place; therefore the date of the\nhero's birth may be fixed with the greatest precision. He tells us he\nwas fifty-eight at the death of the Count Duke of Olivarez, that is,\n1646; Gil Blas was therefore born 1588, and this corresponds altogether\nwith different allusions, which show that when the romance was written\nthe war between Spain and Portugal was present to the author's mind, and\nthe subject of his constant animadversion. Portugal, as our readers may\nrecollect, became subject to the Spanish yoke in 1580, the Duke of\nBraganza was raised to the throne of that kingdom in 1640; and the war\nto which that event gave rise was not terminated till 1668; when Charles\nII. acknowledged Alphonso VI. as the legitimate ruler of Portugal. That\nwhen the work was written the war between Spain and Portugal continued,\nmay be inferred from the fact, that the mention of Portugal is\nperpetually accompanied with some allusion to hostilities which were\nthen carried on between the two countries. The romance must therefore\nhave been written between the disgrace of the Count Duke, 1646, and the\nrecognition of Portuguese independence, 1668. But we may contract the\ndate of the work within still narrower limits. It could not have been\nwritten before 1654, as the works of Don Augustini Moreto, none of which\nwere published before 1654, are cited in it--it is not of later date,\nbecause there is no allusion in any part of the work to the death of\nPhilip IV., to the peace of the Pyrenees, or to any other ministers but\nLerma, Uzeda, and Olivarez. Don Louis de Haro, Marquis of Carpio, and\nDuke of Montora, is not mentioned moreover. Gil Blas, describing himself\nto Laura, says that he is the only son of Fernando de Ribera, who fell\nin a battle on the frontiers of Portugal fifteen years before. This is a\nprolepsis; for the battle was fought in 1640. But this manifest\nanachronism, which entirely escaped Le Sage, was intended by the author\nas an autograph, a sort of \"chien de Bassano,\" to point out the real\ndate of the work. Bearing in mind, then, that Gil Blas was born in 1588;\nthat Portugal was annexed to Spain in 1580 without a struggle; and\nremained subject to its dominion till 1640; let us consider the\nanachronisms in which Le Sage has plunged himself, partly through his\nignorance of Spanish history, partly from the attempt to interpolate\nother Spanish novels with the main body of the work he has translated.\nOne of these is confessed by Le Sage himself, and occurs in the story of\nDon Pompeio de Castro, inserted in the first volume. Don Pompeio is\nsupposed to relate this story at Madrid in 1607; in it a king of\nPortugal is spoken of at that time as being an independent sovereign.\nNow in the third volume of the seventh book, in the year 1608, Pedro\nZamora tells Laura, with whom he has eloped, that they were in security\nin Portugal, a foreign kingdom, though actually subject to the crown of\nSpain. Now this is quite correct, and here Le Sage's attention was\ncalled to the anachronism above cited in his preceding volume, which he\nundertakes to correct in another edition--a promise which he fulfilled\nby the clumsy expedient of transferring the scene from Portugal to\nPoland. But how comes it to pass that Le Sage, who singles out with such\npainful anxiety the error to which we have adverted, suffers others of\nequal importance to pass altogether unnoticed? For instance, in the\ntwelfth book, eighth chapter, Olivarez speaks of a journey of Philip IV.\nto Zaragoza; which took place indeed, but not until two years after the\ndisgrace of Olivarez. Cogollos, speaking in 1616, alludes to a\ncircumstance connected with the revolt of Portugal in 1640; Olivarez,\nsixteen months afterwards, mentions the same circumstance, saying to\nCogollos--\"Your patron, though related to the Duke of Braganza, had, I\nam well assured, no share in his revolt.\" In 1607, Gil Blas, being the\nservant of Don Bernardo de Castel Blanco, says, that some suppose his\nmaster to be a spy of the king of Portugal, a personage who at that time\ndid not exist. Now, if Le Sage intended to leave to posterity a lasting\nand unequivocal proof of his plagiarism, how could he do so more\neffectually than by dwelling on one anachronism as an error which he\nintended to correct, in a work swarming in every part with others\nequally flagrant, of which he takes no notice? We have mentioned these\nmistakes, particularly as being mistakes into which the original author\nhad fallen, and which, as his object was not to give an exact relation\nof facts, he probably disregarded altogether. And here again we must\nrepeat our remark, that these perpetual allusions indicate a writer not\nafraid of exposing himself by irretrievable blunders, and certain of\nbeing understood by those whom he addressed. A Spaniard writing for\nSpaniards, would of course take it for granted that his countrymen were\nacquainted with those very facts and allusions which Le Sage sometimes\nformally endeavours to explain, and sometimes is unable to detect; while\na writer conscious, as the French author was, of a very imperfect\nacquaintance with the language and usages of Spain, would never indulge\nin those little circumstantial touches which a Spaniard could not help\ninserting.\n\nWe now come to errors of Le Sage himself. Dona Mencia speaks of her\nfirst husband dying in the service of the king of Portugal, five or six\nyears after the beginning of the seventeenth century. Events are\ndescribed as taking place in the time of Philip II., under the title of\nLe Mariage de Vengeance, which happened three hundred years before, at\nthe time of the Sicilian Vespers, 1283. Gil Blas, after his release from\nthe tower of Segovia, tells his patron, Alonzo de Leyva, that four\nmonths before he held an important office under the Spanish crown; while\nhe tells Philip IV. that he was six months in prison at Segovia. But the\nfollowing very remarkable error almost determines the question, as it\ndiscovers demonstrably the mistake of a transcriber. Scipio, returning\nto his master in April 1621, informs Gil Blas that Philip III. is dead;\nand proceeds to say that it is rumoured that the Cardinal Duke of Lerma\nhas lost his office, is forbidden to appear at court, and that Gaspar de\nGuzman, Count of Olivarez, is prime minister. Now, the Cardinal Duke of\nLerma had lost his office since the 4th October 1618, three years before\nthe death of Philip III. How is this mistake explained? By the\ntranscriber's omission of the words \"Duke of Uzeda, son of,\" which\nshould precede the cardinal duke, &c., and which makes the sentence\nhistorically correct; for the Duke of Uzeda was the son of the Cardinal\nDuke of Lerma, did succeed his father, and was turned out of office at\nthe death of Philip III., when he was succeeded by Olivarez. If there\nwas no other argument but this, it would serve materially to invalidate\nLe Sage's claims to originality; as the omission of these words makes\nnonsense of a sentence perfectly intelligible when corrected, and causes\nthe writer, in the very act of alluding to a most notorious fact in\nSpanish history, with which, even in its least details, he appears in\nother places familiar, to display the most unaccountable ignorance of\nthe very fact he makes the basis of his narrative. Surely if plagiarism\ncan ever be said \"digito monstrari et dicier hic est,\" it is here.\n\nIf we consider the effect of all these accumulated circumstances--the\ntravelling on mules, the mode of extorting money, the plunder of the\nprisoners by the jailer, the rosary with its large beads carried by the\nSpanish Tartuffe, instead of the \"haire and the discipline\" mentioned by\nMoliere, the description of the hotels of Madrid, the inferior condition\nof surgeons, the graceful bearing of the cloak, the notary's inkstand,\nthe posada in which the actors slept as well as acted, the convent in\nwhich Philip's mistress is placed with such minute propriety, the\nGallina Ciega, the lane in Madrid, the dinner hour of the clerks in the\nminister's office, the knowledge of the ecclesiastical rights of the\ncrown over Granada, and of the Aragonese resistance to a foreign\nviceroy, the number of words left in the original Spanish, and of others\nwhich betray a Spanish origin, the names of cities, villages, and\nfamilies, that rise spontaneously to the hand of the writer, and the\nperpetual mistakes which their enumeration occasions, among which we\nwill only here specify that of C_a_ntador for C_o_ntador, and the\nomission of the words \"Duc d'Uzeda,\" which can alone set right a\nflagrant anachronism--if we consider the effect of all these\ncircumstances, we shall look in vain for any reason to doubt the result\nwhich such a complication of probabilities conspires to fortify.\n\nThe objections stated by M. Neufchateau to this overwhelming mass of\nevidence, utterly destructive as it is to the hypothesis of which he was\nthe advocate, are so feeble and captious, that they hardly deserve the\nexamination which Llorente, in the anxiety of his patriotism, has\ncondescended to bestow on then. M. Neufchateau objects to the minute\nreferences on which many of Llorente's arguments are built; but he\nshould remember that, in an examination of this sort, it is \"one thing\nto be minute, and another to be precarious;\" one thing to be oblique,\nand another to be fantastical. On such occasions the more powerful the\nmicroscope is that the critic can employ, the better; not only because\nall suspicion of contrivance or design is thereby further removed, but\nbecause proofs, separately trifling, are, when united, irresistible; and\nthe circumstantial evidence to which courts of justice are compelled, by\nthe necessity of human affairs, to recur, in matters where the lives and\nfortunes of individuals are at stake, is not only legitimate, but\nindispensable, before tribunals which have not the same means of\ninvestigation at their command. In this, however, the evidence is as\nfull, positive, and satisfactory as any evidence not appealing to the\nsenses or mathematical demonstration for its truth, can possibly be; and\nany one in active life who was to forbear from acting upon it, would\ndeserve to be treated as a lunatic. Let us, however, consider the\nadmissions of M. Neufchateau. He admits, 1st, That Le Sage was never in\nSpain. 2dly, Le Sage, in 1735, acknowledged the chronological error into\nwhich he had fallen, from inserting the story of Don Pompeyo de Castro,\nand announced his intention to correct it. 3dly, He allows, in 1724,\nwhen the third volume of _Gil Blas_ was published, Le Sage annexed to it\nthe Latin distich, implying that the work was at an end--\n\n    \"Inveni portum, spes et fortuna, valete;\n    Sat me lusistis, ludite nunc alios.\"\n\nHe allows, therefore, that the publication of the fourth volume, eleven\nyears after the third volume of _Gil Blas_ was published, was as far\nfrom the original intention of the author as it was on the expectation\nof the public. 4thly, That, from the introduction of the Duke of Lerma\non the stage at the close of the work, the history of Spain is adhered\nto with exact fidelity. 5thly, He allows that the description of Spanish\ninns, (10, 12,) is taken from the \"Vida del Escudero Marcos de Obregon.\"\n6thly, He allows that the novel of \"Le Mariage de Vengeance,\" related\nby Dona Elvira, is inconsistent with all the rest of the story of _Gil\nBlas_. The anachronisms in which Le Sage is entangled, by applying a\nstory to the seventeenth century that relates to the thirteenth, prove\nhis ignorance of Spanish history. On this M. Neufchateau remarks as\nusual, that no Spaniard would have fallen into such an error. True; but\nhow does it happen that the person making it is so intimately acquainted\nwith the topography and habits of Spain? and how can this contradiction\nbe solved, but by supposing that Le Sage incorporated a Spanish story\nwhich caught his fancy with the manuscript before him? 7thly, He allows\nthat the story of Dona Laura de Guzman is taken from a Spanish comedy\nentitled, \"Todo es enredos amor y el diablo son las mugeres.\" 8thly, He\nallows that the expression, \"et je promets de vous faire tirer pied ou\naile du premier ministre,\"{B} is not French; it is in fact the\ntranslation of a Spanish proverb, \"Agarrar pata o alon.\" 9thly, He\nadmits that the intimate acquaintance with the personal history of the\nCount Duke, displayed by Le Sage, is astonishing. 10thly, He admits that\nthe stories of--\n\nDona Mencia de Mosquera, contained in 1st book, 11th, 12th, 13th, and\n14th chapters,\n\n  Of the story of Diego de la Fuente, contained in the 2d book,\n                    7th chapter,\n     --           Don Bernardo de Castelblanco, contained in the 2d book,\n                    1st chapter,\n     --           Don Pompeyo de Castro, contained in the 2d book, 7th\n                    chapter,\n     --           Dona Aurora de Guzman, contained in the 4th book, 2d, 3d,\n                    5th, and 6th chapters,\n     --           Matrimonio por Venganza, contained in the 4th book, 4th\n                    chapter,\n     --           Dona Serafina de Polan and Don Alfonso de Leiva,\n                    contained in 10th book,\n     --           Rafael and Lucinda, contained in 5th book, 1st chapter,\n     --           Samuel Simon en Chelva, contained in 6th book, 1st\n                    chapter,\n     --           Laura, contained in 7th book, 7th chapter,\n     --           Don Anibal de Chinchilla, contained in 7th book, 12th\n                    chapter,\n     --           Valerio de Luna and Inesilla Cantarilla, contained in\n                    8th book, 1st chapter,\n     --           Andres de Tordesillas, Gaston de Cogollos, and Elena de\n                    Galisteo, contained in 9th book, 4th, 11th, and 13th\n                    chapters,\n     --           Scipio, contained in 10th book, 10th, 11th, and 12th\n                    chapters,\n     --           Laura and Lucrecia, contained in 12th book, 1st chapter,\n     --           And the Histories of Lerma and Olivarez, contained in\n                    11th book, 5th, 6th, 8th, 9th, 11th, 12th, 13th; and\n                    2d book, 3d, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th,\n                    12th, and 13th chapters.\n\nComposing more than two-thirds of _Gil Blas_--are taken from the\nSpanish. Such are the admissions of Le Sage's advocates.\n\nEven after these important deductions, there remains enough to found a\nbrilliant reputation. To this remainder, however, Le Sage is not\nentitled. It is, we trust, proved to every candid reader, that, with the\nexception of one anecdote, entertaining in itself, but betraying the\ngreatest ignorance of Spanish manners, two or three allusions to the\ncurrent scandal and topics of the day, and the insertion of several\nnovels avowedly translated from other Spanish writers; all the merit of\nLe Sage consists in dividing a manuscript placed by his friend, the Abbe\nde Lyonne, in his possession, into two stories--one of which was _Gil\nBlas_, and the other, confessed by himself to be a translation and\npublished long after the former, was the _Bachelier de Salamanque_. To\nthe argument of chronological error, the sole answer which M.\nNeufchateau condescends to give is, that they are incomprehensible; and\non his hypothesis he is right. As to the Spanish words and phrases\nemployed in _Gil Blas_, the names of villages, towns, and families which\noccur in it, he observes that these are petty circumstances--so they\nare, and for that very reason the argument they imply is irresistible.\nThe story of the examination of Gaspar, the servant of Simon, in the\nInquisition scene, is gravely urged by M. Neufchateau as a proof that\nthe writer was a Frenchman, as no Spaniard would dare to attack the\nInquisition. This is strange confusion. Not a word is uttered against\nthe Inquisition in the scene. Some impostors disguise themselves in the\ndress of inquisitors to perpetrate a fraud. If a French novel describe\ntwo or three swindlers, assuming the garb of members of the old\nParliament of Paris in execution of their design, is this an attack on\nthe Parliament of Paris? Is the \"Beaux' Stratagem\" an attack on our army\nand peerage? The argument, however, may be retorted; for had a Frenchman\nbeen the author of the story, it is more than probable that he would\nhave introduced some attack upon the Inquisition, and quite certain that\nthe characters brought forward would have deviated from the strict\npropriety they now preserve. Some confusion would have been made among\nthem--an error which M. Neufchateau, in the few lines he has written\nupon the subject, has not been able to avoid. We may add that this whole\nscene was printed in Spanish, under the eye of the Inquisition, without\nany interference on the part of that venerable body, who, though\ntolerably quick-sighted in such matters, were not, it should seem, aware\nof the attack upon them which M. Neufchateau has been sagacious enough\nto discover. To the argument drawn from the geographical blunders, M.\nNeufchateau mutters that they are excusable in a writer who had never\nbeen in Spain. The question, how such a writer came wantonly to incur\nthem, he leaves unanswered. M. Neufchateau asserts, that there is in\nSpanish no proverb that corresponds to the French saying, \"A quelque\nchose le malheur est bon.\" But a comedy was written in the time of\nPhilip IV., entitled, \"No hay man que por bien no venga.\" He argues that\n_Gil Blas_ is not the work of a Spaniard, because it does not, like _Don\nQuixote_, abound with proverbs; by a parity of reasoning, he might infer\n_The Silent Lady_ was not written by an Englishman; as there is no\nallusion to Falstaff in it.\n\nBut it may be said, if Le Sage was so unscrupulous as to appropriate to\nhimself the works of another writer in _Gil Blas_, how came he to\nacknowledge the _Bachelier de Salamanque_ as a translation?\n\nThis is a fair question, but the answer we can give is satisfactory. The\noriginals of all his translations, except _Gil Blas_ and the _Bachelier\nde Salamanque_, were printed; and therefore any attempt at wholesale\nplagiarism must have been immediately detected. The _Bachelier de\nSalamanque_, it is true, was in manuscript; but it had been long in the\npossession of the Marquis de Lerma and his son, before it became the\nproperty of Le Sage; and although tolerably certain that it had never\nbeen diligently perused, Le Sage could not be sure that it had not\nattracted superficial notice, and that the name was not known to many\npeople. Now, by eviscerating the _Bachelier de Salamanque_ of its most\nentertaining anecdotes, and giving them a different title, and then\npublishing the mutilated copy of a work, the name of which, with the\noutline of its story, was known to many people as an acknowledged\ntranslation, he took the most obvious means of disarming all suspicion\nof plagiarism, and setting, as it seems he did, on a wrong track the\ncuriosity of enquirers. How came the original manuscript not to be\nprinted by its author? Because it could not be printed with impunity\nwithin the jurisdiction of the Spanish monarchy: the allusions to the\nabuses of the court and the favourites of the day are so obvious--the\nsatire upon the imbecility of the Spanish government so keen and\nbiting--the personal descriptions of Philip III. and Philip IV. so\nexact--the corruption of its ministers of justice, and the abuses\npractised in its prisons, branded in terms so lively and vehement--the\nattacks upon the influence of the clergy, their hypocrisy, their\nambition, and their avarice, so frequent and severe--that while Philip\nIV. and Don John of Austria, the fruit of his intrigue with the actress\nMarie Calderon, so carefully pointed out, were still alive, and before\nthe generation to which it alludes had passed away, its publication, in\nSpain at least, was impossible. The _Bachelier de Salamanque_ was not\npublished for the same reason; and for the same reason, even in a\ncountry with perhaps more pretensions to freedom than Spain possessed,\nno one has yet acknowledged himself the writer of _Junius_. But why do\nyou not produce the Spanish manuscript, and set the question at rest?\nexclaims with much _naivete_ M. Neufchateau. Does such an argument\ndeserve serious refutation? That is, why do not you Spaniards produce a\nmanuscript given to one Frenchman by another at Paris, in the 18th\ncentury, which of course, if our theory be true, he had the strongest\ntemptation to destroy? Rather may the Spaniards ask, why do not _you_\nproduce the original manuscript of the _Bachelier de Salamanque_, which\nwould overthrow at least one portion of our hypothesis?\n\nThe object of _Gil Blas_ is to exhibit a vivid representation of the\nfollies and vices of the successive administrations of Lerma, Uzeda, and\nOlivarez; to point out the actual state of the drama in Spain under the\nreign of Philip IV., who, indolent as he was, possessed the taste of a\ntrue Spaniard for dramatic representation; to criticise the absurd\nsystem pursued by the physicians, abuses of subordinate officers of\njustice, the follies of false pretenders to philosophy, the disorders\nand corruptions which swarm in every department of a despotic and\ninefficient government, the multitude of sharpers and robbers in the\ntowns and highways, the subterranean habitations in which they found\nshelter and security, the ingenuity of their frauds, and daring outrages\nof their violence--in short, to hold up every species of national error,\nand every weakness of national folly, to public obloquy and derision. In\ndwelling upon such topics the writer will, of course, describe scenes\nand characters common to every state of civilized society. The broad and\ngeneral features of the time-serving courtier, of the servile coxcomb,\nof the rapacious mistress, of the expecting legatee, the frivolous man\nof fashion, and the still more frivolous pedant, will be the same,\nwhatever be the country in which the scene is laid, and by whatever\nnames they happen to be distinguished. France had, no doubt, her\nSangrados and Ochetos, her Matthias de Silva and Rodrigo, her Lauras and\nher Archbishops of Granada.\n\n    \"Pictures like these, dear madam, to design,\n    Asks no firm hand, and no unerring line;\n    Some wandering touches, some reflected light,\n    Some flying stroke, alone can hit 'em right.\"\n\nWhere the touches are more exact and delicate, where the strokes are\nlaid on with the painful labour of a Flemish pencil, where the business\nand the bosoms of men are addressed more directly, there it is we shall\nfind proofs of the view and purpose of the author; such traits are the\nkey with the leather strap that verified the judgment of Sancho's\nkinsmen. To what purpose should a Frenchman, writing in the time of\nLouis XIV., censure the rapacity of innkeepers, and the wretchedness of\ntheir extorted accommodation, when France, from the time of Chaucer to\nthe present hour, has been famous for the civility of the one and the\nconvenience of the other? To what purpose, if the French government were\nto be criticised, enumerate the danger of high-roads, and the caverns\nunexplored by a negligent administration, in which bandits found a\nrefuge? If France was aimed at, how does it happen that the literature\nof its golden age is the subject of attack, and a perverted and\nfantastic style of writing assigned to an epoch remarkable for the\nseverity and precision of its taste? If Spain is meant, the attack is\nperfectly intelligible, as the epoch is exactly that when Spanish taste\nbegan to degenerate, and the style of Spanish writers to become vicious,\ninflated, and fantastic, in imitation of Gongora, who did so much to\nruin the literature of his country; as other writers of much less\nability, but who addressed themselves to a public far inferior in point\nof taste to that of Gongora, have recently done in England. Nothing\ncould be worse chosen than such a topic. As well might England be\nattacked now for its disregard of commerce and its enthusiastic love of\ngenius, or France for its contempt of military glory. When _Gil Blas_\nwas published, France was undoubtedly the model of civilized Europe, the\nfountain from whence other stars drew light. To ridicule the bad taste\nof the age of Malebranche, the master of Addison, and of Boileau, the\nmaster of Pope, will appear ridiculous to an Englishman. To accuse the\nvicious style which prevailed in the age of Bossuet, Fenelon, and\nPascal, will appear monstrous to every one with the least tincture of\nEuropean literature.\n\nLet us apply this mode of reasoning to some instance in which national\nprejudice and interest cannot be concerned. Let us suppose that some one\nwere to affirm that the _Adelphi_ of Terence was not a translation from\nMenander; among the incorrigible pedants who think Niebuhr a greater\nauthority on Roman history than Cicero, he would not want for\nproselytes. Let us see what he might allege--he might urge that Terence\nhad acknowledged obligations to Menander on other occasions, and that on\nthis he seemed rather studiously to disclaim it, pointing out Diphilus\nas his original--he might insist that Syrus could only have been the\nslave of a Roman master, that Sannio corresponded exactly with our\nnotions of a Roman pander, that AEschinus was the picture of a dissolute\nyoung patrician--in short, that through the transparent veil of Grecian\ndrapery it was easy to detect the sterner features of Roman manners and\nsociety; nay more, he might insist on the marriage of Micio at the close\nof the drama, as Neufchateau does upon the drunkenness of Guyomar, as\nalluding to some anecdote of the day, and at any rate as the admitted\ninvention of Terence himself. He might challenge the advocates of\nMenander to produce the Greek original from which the play was borrowed;\nhe might reject the Greek idioms which abound in that masterpiece of the\nRoman stage with contempt, as beneath his notice; and disregard the\nnames which betray a Grecian origin, the allusions to the habits of\nGrecian women, to the state of popular feeling at Athens, and the\nadministration of Athenian law, with supercilious indifference. All this\nsuch a reasoner might do, and all this M. Neufchateau has done. But\nwould such a tissue of cobweb fallacies disguise the truth from any man\nof ordinary taste and understanding? Such a man would appeal to the\nwhole history of Terence; he would show that he was a diligent\ntranslator of the Greek writers of the middle comedy, that his language\nin every other line betrayed a Grecian origin, that the plot was not\nRoman, that the scene was not Roman, that the customs were not Roman; he\nwould say, if he had patience to reason with his antagonist, that a\nfashionable rake, a grasping father, an indulgent uncle, a knavish\nservant, an impudent ruffian, and a timid clown, were the same at Rome,\nat Thebes, and at Athens, in London, Paris, or Madrid. He would ask, of\nwhat value were such broad and general features common to a species,\nwhen the fidelity of an individual likeness was in question? He would\nsay, that the incident quoted as a proof of originality, served only, by\nits repugnance to Grecian manners, and its inferiority to the work in\nwhich it was inserted, to prove that the rest was the production of\nanother writer. He would quote the translations from fragments still\nextant, which the work, exquisite as it is, contains, as proofs of a\nstill more beautiful original. Lastly, he would cite the \"Dimidiate\nMenander\" of Caesar, as a proof of the opinion entertained of his genius\nby the great writers of his own country; and when he had done this, he\nmight enquire with confidence whether any one existed capable of forming\na judgment upon style, or of distinguishing one author from another, who\nwould dispute the position for which he contended.\n\nThe sum and substance of all M. Neufchateau's argument is the slight\nassumption, that every allusion to a man eminent for wit and genius,\nmust be intended for a Frenchman. Of this nature is the affirmation that\nTriaquero is meant for Voltaire; and the still more intrepid\ndeclaration, that Lope de Vega and Calderon de la Barca are cited, not\nas Spanish authors, but as types by which Corneille and Racine are\nshadowed out. It is true that the passage is exactly applicable to\nCalderon and Lope de Vega; and for that reason, as they are great comic\nwriters, can hardly apply equally well to Corneille and Racine. But such\ntrifling difficulties are as dust when placed in the balance with the\ninveterate opinion to which we have already alluded.\n\nAccording to the principles adopted by M. Neufchateau, _Gil Blas_ might\nbe adapted to any court, or age, or country. For instance, if Triaquero,\nmeaning a charlatan, (which, by the way, it does not,) refers of\nnecessity to Voltaire, might not any Englishman, if the work had been\npublished recently, insist that the work must have been written by an\nEnglishman, as the allusion could apply to no one so well as him, who,\nhaving been a judge without law, and a translator of Demosthenes without\nGreek, had, to his other titles to public esteem, added that of being an\nhistorian without research?\n\nThe difference between Dr Sangrado and our hydropathists is merely that\nbetween hot and cold water, by no means excluding an allusion to the\nlatter, under the veil, as M. Neufchateau has it, of Spanish manners.\nWould it be quite impossible to find in St James's Street, or in certain\nbuildings at no great distance from the Thames, the exact counterparts\nof Don Matthias de Silva and his companions? Gongora, indeed, in spite\nof his detestable taste, was a man of genius; and therefore to find his\ntype among us would be difficult, if not impossible, unless an excess of\nthe former quality, for which he was conspicuous, might counterbalance a\ndeficiency in the latter. Are our _employes_ less pompous and empty than\nGil Blas and his companions? our squires less absurd and ignorant than\nthe hidalgoes of Valencia? Let any one read some of the pamphlets on\nArchbishop Whately's Logic, or attend an examination in the schools at\nOxford, and then say if the race of those who plume themselves on the\ndiscovery, that Greek children cried when they were whipped is extinct?\nTo be sure, as the purseproud insolence of a _nouveau riche_, and indeed\nof _parvenus_ generally, is quite unknown among us, nobody could rely on\nthose points of resemblance. But with regard to the other topics, would\nit not be fair to say, in answer to such an argument--All this is mere\ncommonplace generality; such are the characters of every country where\nEuropean institutions exist, or European habits are to be found?\nSomething more tangible and specific is requisite to support your claim.\nYou are to prove that the picture is a portrait of a particular\nperson--and you say it has eyes and a nose; so have all portraits. But\nwhere are the strokes that constitute identity, and determine the\noriginal?--There is no mention of Crockford's or of the Missionary\nSociety, of the Old Bailey or the Foundling Hospital; and if Ordonez is\nnamed, who gets rich by managing the affairs of the poor, this can never\nbe meant for a satire on the blundering pedantry of your Somerset-house\ncommissioners.--Here is no hint that can be tortured into a glance at\nfox-hunters, or game-preservers, of the society for promoting rural\ndeans, at your double system of contradictory law, at special pleading\nat quarter-sessions,{C} at the technical rigour of your institutions,\nat the delay, chicanery, and expense of your judicial proceedings, at\nthe refinement, ease, wit, gayety, and disinterested respect for merit,\nwhich, as every body knows, distinguish your social character; nothing\nis said of the annual meeting of chemists, geologists, and\nmathematicians, so beneficial to the real interests of science, by\nmaking a turn for tumid metaphor and the love of display necessary\ningredients in the character of its votaries, extirpating from among\nthem that simplicity which was so fatal an obstacle to the progress of\nNewton,--and turning the newly discovered joint of an antediluvian\nreptile into a theme of perennial and ambitious declamation; nothing is\nsaid about those discussions on baptismal fonts, those discoveries of\ntrochees for iambics, or the invention of new potatoe boilers, which in\nthe days of Hegel, Berryer, Schlosser, Savigny, and Cousin, are the\nglory and delight of England; in short, there is nothing to fix the\nallusions on which you rely on to distinguish them from those which\nmight be applicable to Paris, Vienna, or Madrid.\n\nThere are no people less disposed than ourselves to detract from the\nmerit of eminent French writers; they are always clear, elegant, and\njudicious; often acute, eloquent, and profound. There is no department\nof prose literature in which they do not equal us; there are many in\nwhich they are unquestionably our superiors. Unlike our authors, who, on\nthose subjects which address the heart and reason jointly, adopt the\nstyle of a treatise on the differential calculus; and when pure science\nis their topic, lead us to suppose (if it were not for their disgusting\npomposity) they had chosen for their model the florid confusion of a\ntenth-rate novel;--the French write on scientific subjects with\nsimplicity and precision, and on moral, aesthetic, and theoretical\nquestions with spirit, earnestness, and sensibility. Having said so\nmuch, we must however add, that a liberal and ingenious acknowledgment\nof error is not among the shining qualities of our neighbours. When a\nquestion is at issue in which they imagine the literary reputation of\ntheir country to be at stake, it is the dexterity of the advocate,\nrather than the candour of the judge, that we must look for in their\ndissertations. He who has argued on the guilt of Mary with a Scotchman,\nor the authenticity of the three witnesses with a newly made archdeacon,\nand with a squire smarting under an increasing poor-rate or the\ncorn-laws, may form a just conception of the task he will undertake in\nendeavouring to persuade a French critic that his countrymen are in the\nwrong. The patient, if he does not, as it has sometimes happened in the\ncases to which we have referred, become \"pugil et medicum urget,\" is\nsure, as in those instances, to triumph over all the proofs which reason\ncan suggest, or that the hellebore of nine Anticyras could furnish him\nwith capacity to understand. Of this the work of M. Neufchateau is a\nstriking proof. Truth is on one side, Le Sage's claim to originality on\nthe other; and he supports the latter: we do not say that he is willing,\nrather than abandon his client, to assert a falsehood; but we are sure\nthat, in order to defend him, he is ready to believe absurdities.\n\nThe degree of moral guilt annexed to such conduct as that which we\nattribute to Le Sage, is an invidious topic, not necessarily connected\nwith our subject, and upon which we enter with regret.\n\nLessing accused Wieland of having destroyed a palace, that he might\nbuild a cottage with its materials. However highly we may think of the\noriginal, we can hardly suppose such an expression applicable to _Gil\nBlas_. Of the name of the author whose toil Le Sage thus appropriated,\ncharity obliges us to suppose that he was ignorant; but we should not\nforget that the case of Le Sage is not precisely that of a person who\npublishes, as an original, a translation from a printed work, as Wieland\ndid with his copy of Rowe's Lady Jane Grey, and Lord Byron with his copy\nof the most musical lines in Goethe. The offence of Le Sage more\nresembles that imputed (we sincerely believe without foundation) to\nRaphael; namely, that after the diligent study of some ancient frescoes,\nhe suffered them to perish, in order to conceal his imitation. But we\nhasten to close these reflections, which tenderness to the friend and\ncompanion of our boyhood, and gratitude to him who has enlivened many an\nhour, and added so much to our stock of intellectual happiness, forbid\nus to prolong. Let those who feel that they could spurn the temptation,\nin comparison with which every other that besets our miserable nature is\nas dross--the praise yielded by a polished and fastidious nation to rare\nand acknowledged genius--denounce as they will the infirmity of Le Sage.\nBut let them be quite sure, that instead of being above a motive to\nwhich none but minds of some refinement are accessible, they are not\nbelow it. Let them be sure that they do not take dulness for integrity,\nand that the virtue, proof to intellectual triumphs, and disdaining \"the\nlast infirmity of noble minds,\" would not sink if exposed to the ordeal\nof a service of plate, or admission in some frivolous coterie. For\nourselves we will only say, \"Amicus Plato sed magis amica veritas.\"\n\nFor these reasons, then, which depend on the nature of the thing, and\nwhich no testimony can alter--reasons which we cannot reject without\nabandoning all those principles which carry with them the most certain\ninstruction, and are the surest guides of human life--we think the main\nfact contended for by M. Llorente, that is, the Spanish origin of _Gil\nBlas_, undeniable; and the subordinate and collateral points of his\nsystem invested with a high degree of probability; the falsehood of a\nconclusion fairly drawn from such premises as we have pointed out would\nbe nearer akin to a metaphysical impossibility; and so long as the light\nof every other gem that glitters in a nation's diadem is faint and\nfeeble when compared with the splendour of intellectual glory, Spain\nwill owe a debt of gratitude to him among her sons who has placed upon\nher brow the jewel which France (as if aggression for more material\nobjects could not fill up the measure of her injustice towards that\nunhappy land) has kept so long, and worn so ostentatiously.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} So in Don Quixote the friars are described \"Estando en estas\nrazones, aslomaron por el camino dos Frayles de la Orden de san Benito,\nCavalleros _sobre dos Dromedarios, que no eran mas pequneas dos mulas en\nque venian_.\"\n\n{B} It occurs, however, in Madame de Sevigne's letters. But that most\ncharming of letter-writers understood Spanish, which Anne of Austria had\nprobably made a fashionable accomplishment at the court of France. The\nintrigue for which Vardes was exiled, shows, that to write in Spanish\nwas an attainment common among the courtiers of Louis XIV.\n\n{C} We call ourselves a _practical_ people! A man incurred, a _few\nmonths_ ago, an expense of L70, for saying that he was \"ready,\" instead\nof saying that he was \"ready and _willing_\" to do a certain act. The\nman's name was Granger. Another unfortunate creature incurred costs to\nthe amount of L3000, by one of the most ordinary proceedings in our\ncourts, called a motion, of course, and usually settled for a guinea. A\nclergyman libelled two of his parishioners in a Bishop's Court. The\nmatter never came to be heard, and the expense of the _written_\nproceedings was upwards of L800! Can any system be more abominable than\none which leads to such results?\n\n\n\n\nMICHAEL KALLIPHOURNAS.\n\n\nFew of the events of our life afford us greater pride than revisiting a\nwell-known and celebrated city after many years' absence. The pleasure\nderived from the hope of enjoyment, the self-satisfaction flowing from\nthe presumption of our profound knowledge of the place, and the feeling\nof mental superiority attached to our discernment in returning to the\nspot, which, at the moment, appears to us the particular region of the\nearth peculiarly worthy of a second visit--or a third, as the case may\nbe--all combine to stuff the lining of the diligence, the packsaddle of\nthe Turkish post-horse, or the encumbrance on the back of the camel\nwhich may happen to convey us, with something softer than swandown. Time\nsoon brings the demon of discontent to our society. The city and its\ninhabitants appear changed--rarely for the better, always less to our\ntaste. Ameliorations and improvements seem to us positive evils; we sigh\nfor the good old times, for the dirty streets of Paris, the villanous\nodours of Rome, the banditti of Naples, the obsequiousness of Greece,\nand the contempt, with the casual satisfaction of being spit upon, of\nTurkey. In short, we feel the want of our youth every where.\n\nI enjoyed all the delights and regrets which mere local associations can\ncall up, a few months ago, on revisiting Athens after many years'\nabsence. On the 6th of May 1827, I had witnessed the complete defeat of\nthe Greek army. I had beheld the delhis of Kutayia sabring the flying\ntroops of Lord Cochrane and General Church, and seen 1500 men slain by\nthe sword in less than half an hour, amidst the roll of an ill-sustained\nand scattered fire of musketry. The sight was heartbreaking, but grand.\nThe Turkish cavalry came sweeping down to the beach, until arrested by\nthe fire of the ships. Lord Cochrane and his aide-de-camp, Dr Goss,\nthemselves had been compelled to plunge more than knee-deep in the AEgean\nere they could gain their boat. On the hill of the Phalerum I had heard\nGeneral Gueheneuc criticise the manoeuvres of the commander-in-chief,\nand General Heideck disparage the quality of his coffee. As the Austrian\nsteamer which conveyed me entered the Piraeus, my mind reverted to the\ninnumerable events which had been crowded into my life in Greece. A new\ntown rose out of the water before my eyes as if by enchantment; but I\nfelt indignant that the lines of Colonel Gordon, and the tambouria of\nKaraiskaki, should be effaced by modern houses and a dusty road. As soon\nas I landed, I resolved to climb the Phalerum, and brood over visions of\nthe past. But I had not proceeded many steps from the quay, lost in my\nsentimental reverie, ere I found that reflection ought not to begin too\nsoon at the Piraeus. I was suddenly surrounded by about a dozen\nindividuals who seemed determined to prevent me from continuing my walk.\nOn surveying them, they appeared dressed for a costume ball of\nragamuffins. Europe, Asia, and Africa had furnished their wardrobe. The\nmost prominent figure among them was a tall Arab, in the nizam of\nMehemet Ali, terminated with a Maltese straw hat. His companions\nexhibited as singular a taste in dress as himself. Some wore sallow\nAlbanian petticoats, carelessly tied over the wide and dusky nether\ngarments of Hydriots, their upper man adorned by sailors' jackets and\nglazed hats; others were tightly buttoned up in European garments, with\ntheir heads lost in the enormous fez of Constantinople. This antiquarian\nsociety of garments, fit representatives to a stranger of the\nBavaro-Hellenic kingdom of Otho the gleaner, and the three donative\npowers, informed me that it consisted of charioteers. Each member of the\nsociety speaking on his own account, and all at the same time--a\ncircumstance I afterwards found not uncommon in other antiquarian and\nliterary societies at Athens--asked me if I was going to Athens:\n+eis Athenas+ was the phrase. The Arab and a couple of Maltese alone said\n\"Ees teen Atheena.\" Entrapped into a reply by the classic sound, I\nunwittingly exclaimed \"Malista--Verily I am.\"\n\nThe shouts my new friends uttered on hearing me speak Greek cannot be\ndescribed. Their volubility was suddenly increased a hundredfold; and\nhad all the various owners of the multitudinous garments before me\narisen to reclaim their respective habiliments, it could hardly have\nbeen greater. I could not have believed it possible that nine Greeks,\naided by two Maltese and a single Arab, could have created such a din.\nThe speakers soon perceived that it was utterly impossible for me to\nhear their eloquent addresses, as they could no longer distinguish the\nsounds of their own voices; so with one accord they disappeared, and ere\nI had proceeded many steps again surrounded me, rushing forward with\ntheir respective vehicles, into which they eagerly invited me to mount.\nIf their habiliments consisted of costumes run mad, their chariots were\nnot less varied, and afforded an historical study in locomotion. Distant\ncapitals and a portion of the last century must have contributed their\nrepresentatives to the motley assemblage. The tall Arab drove a superb\nfiacre of the days of hoops, a vehicle for six insides; phaetons,\nchariots, droschkies, and britskas, Strong's omnibus, and Rudhart's\nstuhlwagen, gigs, cars, tilburies, cabriolets, and dogcarts, were all\nthere, and each pushing to get exactly before me. Lord Palmerston's\nkingdom is doubtless a Whig satire on monarchy; the scene before me\nappeared a Romaic satire on the Olympic games. I forgot my melancholy\nsentiment, and resolved to join the fun, by attempting to dodge my\npersecutors round the corners of the isolated houses and deep lime-pits\nwhich King Otho courteously terms streets. I forgot that barbarians were\nexcluded from the Olympic games, not on account of the jealousy of the\nGreeks, but because no barbarian could display the requisite skill. The\ncharioteers and their horses knew the ground so much better than I did,\nthat they blockaded me at every turn; so, in order to gain the rocky\nground, I started off towards the hill of the Phalerum pursued by the\n_pancosmium_ of vehicles. On the first precipitous elevation I turned to\nlaugh at my pursuers, when, to my horror, I saw Strong's omnibus\nlumbering along in the distance, surrounded by a considerable crowd, and\nI distinguished the loud shouts of the mob:--+Pou einai ho trelos\nho Anglos+; \"Where is the mad Englishman?\" So my melancholy was\nconducting me to madness.\n\nMy alarm dispelled all my reminiscences of Lord Cochrane, and my visions\nof the Olympic games. I sprang into the droschky of a Greek sailor, who\ndrove over the rocks as if he only expected his new profession to endure\nfor a single day. We were soon on the Piraeus road, which I well knew\nruns along the foundations of one of the long walls; but I was too glad\nto escape, like Lord Palmerston and M. Thiers, unscathed from the\nimbroglio I had created, to honour even Themistocles with a single\nthought. My charioteer was a far better specimen of the present, than\nfoundations of long walls, ruined temples, and statues without noses,\ncan possibly be of the past. He informed me he was a sailor: by so\ndoing, he did not prove to me that he estimated my discernment very\nhighly, for that fact required no announcement. He added, however, what\nwas more instructive; _to wit_, that he had received the droschky with\nthe horses, that morning, from a Russian captain, in payment of a bad\ndebt. He had resolved to improviso the coachman, though he had never\ndriven a horse before in his life--+eukolon einai+--\"it is an\neasy matter;\" and he drove like Jehu, shouted like Stentor, and laughed\nlike the Afrite of Caliph Vathek. He ran over nobody, in spite of his\nvehemence. Perhaps his horses were wiser than himself: indeed I have\nremarked, that the populace of Greece is universally more sagacious than\nits rulers. In taking leave of this worthy tar at the Hotel de Londres,\nI asked him gravely if he thought that, in case Russia, England, or\nFrance should one day take Greece in payment of a bad debt, they would\nact wisely to drive her as hard as he drove his horses? He opened his\neyes at me as if he was about to unskin his head, and began to reflect\nin silence; so, perceiving that he entertained a very high opinion of my\nwisdom, I availed myself of the opportunity to advise him to moderate\nhis pace a little in future, if he wished his horses to survive the\nweek.\n\nDuring my stay at Athens, King Otho was absent from his capital; so\nthat, though I lost the pleasure of beholding the beautiful and graceful\nqueen, I escaped the misfortune of being dishonoured by receiving the\ncross of an officer of the order of the Redeemer. His Hellenic majesty\ntakes a peculiar satisfaction in hanging this decoration at the\nbuttonholes of those who served Greece during the revolutionary war;\nwhile he suspends the cross of Commander round the necks, or ornaments\nwith the star of the order the breasts, of all the Bavarians who have\nassisted him in relieving Greece of the Palmerstonian plethora of cash\ngleaned from the three powers. For my own part, I am not sure but that I\nshould have made up my mind to return the cross, with a letter full of\npolite expressions of contempt for the supposed honour, and a few hints\nof pity for the donor; as a very able and distinguished friend of\nGreece, whose services authorized him so to act, did a few days before\nmy arrival.\n\nOn attempting to find my way through Bavarian Athens, I was as much at a\nloss as Lady Francis Egerton, and could not help exclaiming, \"Voila des\nrues qui ont bien peu de logique!\" After returning two or three times to\nthe church Kamkarea, against whose walls half the leading streets of the\nnew city appear to run bolt up, I was compelled to seek the assistance\nof a guide. At length I found out the dwelling once inhabited by my\nfriend Michael Kalliphournas. A neat white villa, with green Venetian\nblinds, smiling in a court full of ruins and rubbish, had replaced the\npicturesque but rickety old Turkish kouak of my former recollections. I\nenquired for the owner in vain; the property, it was said, belonged to\nhis sister; of the brother nobody had heard, and I was referred for\ninformation to the patriotic and enterprising Demarch, or mayor, who\nbears the same name.\n\nIn the end my enquiries were successful, and their result seemed\nmiraculous. To my utter astonishment I learned that Michael had become a\nmonk, and dwelt in the monastery of Pentelicus; but I could obtain no\nexplanation of the mystery. His relations referred me to the monk\nhimself--strangers had never heard of his existence. How often does a\nrevolution like that of Greece, when the very organization of society is\nshaken, compress the progress of a century within a few years! There\nremained nothing for me but to visit the monastery, and seek a solution\nof the singular enigma from my friend's own mouth; so, joining a party\nof travellers who were about to visit the marble quarries of Pentelicus,\nand continue their excursion to the plain of Marathon, I set out on such\na morning as can only be witnessed under the pure sky of Attica.\n\nThe scenery of our ride is now familiar to tourists. Parnes or Parnethus\nwith its double top,{A} Brilessus or Pentelicus with its numerous rills\nand fountains, and Hymettus with its balmy odours, have been \"hymned by\nloftier harps than mine.\" My companions proved gay and agreeable young\nmen. They knew every body at Athens, and every thing, and willingly\ncommunicated their stores of knowledge. I cannot resist recounting some\nof the anecdotes I heard, as they do no discredit to the noble princes\nto whom they relate.\n\nWhen an English prince visited Athens, King Otho, who it seems is his\nown minister, and conducts business quite in a royal way, learned that\nhe was no Whig, and instantly conceived the sublime idea of making use\nof his royal highness's services to obtain Lord Palmerston's dismissal\nfrom office. The monarch himself arranged the plan of his campaign. The\nprince was invited to a _fete champetre_ at Phyle, and when the party\nwas distributed in the various carriages, he found himself planted in a\nlarge barouche opposite the king and queen. King Otho then opened his\nintrigue; he told the prince of the notes in favour of constitutional\ngovernment and economical administration which Lord Palmerston had\nwritten, and Sir Edmund Lyons had presented; and he exclaimed, \"I assure\nyou, my dear prince, all this is done merely to vex me, because I would\nnot keep that speculating charlatan Armansperg! Lord Palmerston cares no\nmore about a constitution, nor about economy, than Queen Victoria, or\nyou and I. When the Duc de Broglie, who has really more conscience than\nour friend the Viscount, proposed that Greece should be pestered with a\nconstitution and such stuff, Palmerston answered very judiciously,\n'Greece--bah!--Greece is not fit for a constitution, nor indeed for any\nother government but that of my nabob!' Now, my dear prince, Queen\nVictoria can never mean to offend me, the sovereign of Greece, when the\nOttoman empire is so evidently on the eve of dismemberment; and,\" quoth\nOtho the gleaner, \"I am deeply offended, at which her British majesty\nmust feel grievously distressed.\" The prince doubtless thought her\nmajesty's distress was not inconsolable; but he only assured his\nHellenic majesty that he could be of no possible use to him in his\ndelicate intrigue at the court of St James's. He tried to get a view of\nthe scenery, and to turn the conversation on the state of the country;\nbut Otho was not so easily repulsed. He insisted that the prince should\ncommunicate his sentiments to Queen Victoria; and, in spite of all the\nassurances he received of the impossibility of meddling with diplomatic\nbusiness in such a way, his Hellenic majesty, to this very day, feels\nsatisfied that Lord Palmerston was sent to the right-about for offending\nhim; and he is firmly persuaded that, unless Lord Aberdeen furnish him\nwith as many millions as he demands to secure his opposition to Russia,\nthe noble earl will not have a long tenor of office.\n\nA young Austrian of our party shouted, \"Ah, it requires to be truly _bon\ngarcon_, like the English prince, to submit to be so bored, even by a\nking! But,\" added he, \"our gallant Fritz managed matters much better.\nThe Archduke Frederick, who behaved so bravely at Acre, and so amiably\nlately in London, heard, it seems, of the treatment the prince had met\nwith, and resolved to cure his majesty of using his guests in such\nstyle. Being invited to a party at Pentelicus, he was aware that he\nwould be placed alone on the seat, with his back to the horses, and\ndeprived of every chance of seeing the country, if it were only that the\ndiplomatic intrigue at the court of Queen Victoria might remain\nconcealed from the lynx-eyed suspicion of the _corps diplomatique_ of\nAthens; for King Otho fancies his intrigues always remain the\nprofoundest secrets. When the archduke handed the lovely queen into the\ncarriage, politeness compelled King Otho to make a cold offer to the\nyoung sailor to follow; the archduke bowed profoundly, sprang into the\ncarriage, and seated himself beside her majesty. The successor of\nAgamemnon followed, looking more grim than Hercules Furens: he stood for\na moment bolt upright in the carriage, hoping his guest would rise and\nvacate his seat; but the young man was already actively engaged in\nconversation. The Emperor of the East--in expectancy--was compelled to\nsit down with his back to the horses, and study the landscape in that\nengaging manner of viewing scenery. Never was a fete given by a sulkier\nhost than King Otho that day proved to be. In returning, the archduke\nhad a carriage to himself. When questioned on the subject of his ride,\nhe only remarked that he always suffered dreadfully from sickness when\nhe rode with his back to the horses. He was sure, therefore, that King\nOtho had placed him beside the queen to avoid that horrible\ninconvenience.\"\n\nOther anecdotes were recounted during our ride, and our opinion of his\nHellenic majesty's tact and taste did not become more favourable, when\nit was discovered that his proceedings had utterly ruined the immense\nquarries of Pentelicus--\n\n    \"Still in its beam Pentele's marbles glow,\"\n\ncan now only be said of the ruins, not of the quarries. In order to\nobtain the few thousand blocks required for the royal palace at Athens,\nmillions of square feet of the purest statuary marble have been shivered\nto atoms by the random process of springing mines with gunpowder. If\nKing Otho had done nothing worse in Greece than converting the marble\nquarries of Pentelicus into a chaos of rubbish, when he found them\ncapable of supplying all Europe for ages with the most beautiful\nmaterial for the sculptor, he would have merited the reputation he so\njustly bears, of caring as little about the real welfare of Greece as\nLord Palmerston himself. My companions quitted me at the quarries,\nmaking pasquinades on the royal palace and its royal master; while I put\nup my horse and walked slowly on to the ancient monastery of Pentele,\nnot Mendele, as Lord Byron has it.\n\nI was soon sitting alone in the cell of Michael, and shall now recount\nhis history as I had it from his own mouth. Michael Kalliphournas was\nleft an orphan the year the Greek revolution broke out. He was hardly\nfourteen years old, and yet he had to act as the guardian and protector\nof a sister four years younger than himself. The storm of war soon\ncompelled him to fly to AEgina with the little Euphrosyne. The trinkets\nand gold which his relations had taught him to conceal, enabled him to\nplace his sister in a Catholic monastery at Naxos, where she received\nthe education of a European lady. Michael himself served under Colonel\nGordon and General Fabvier with great distinction. In 1831, when the\nTurks were about to cede Attica to Greece, Michael and Euphrosyne\nreturned to Athens, to take possession of their family property, which\npromised to become of very great value. At that time I had very often\nseen Phrossa, as she was generally called; indeed, from my intimacy with\nher brother, I was a constant visitor in the house. Her appearance is\ndeeply impressed on my memory. I have rarely beheld greater beauty,\nnever a more elegant figure, nor a more graceful and dignified manner.\nShe was regarded as a fortune, and began to be sought in marriage by all\nthe young aristocracy of Greece. It was at last conjectured that a young\nAthenian, named Nerio, the last descendant of the Frank dukes of Athens,\nhad made some impression on her heart. He was a gay and spirited young\nman, who had behaved very bravely when shut up with the troops in the\nAcropolis during the last siege of Athens, and he was an intimate friend\nof her brother. I had left Athens about this time, and my travels in the\nEast had prevented my hearing any thing of my friends in Greece for\nyears.\n\nThere is a good deal of society among the Greek families at Athens for a\nfew weeks before the Carnival. They meet together in the evenings, and\namuse themselves in a very agreeable way. At one of these parties the\ndiscourse fell on the existence of ghosts and spirits; Michael, who was\npresent, declared that he had no faith in their existence. With what\ngroans did he assure me his opinion was changed, and conjured me never\nto express a doubt on the subject. All the party present exclaimed\nagainst what they called his free-masonry; and even his sister, who was\nnot given to superstition, begged him to be silent lest he should offend\nthe _neraiidhes_, who might punish him when he least expected it. He\nlaughed and ridiculed Phrossa, offering to do any thing to dare those\nredoubted spirits which the company could suggest. Nerio, a far greater\nsceptic than Michael, suddenly affected great respect for the invisible\nworld, and by exciting Michael, gradually engaged him, amidst the\nlaughing of his companions, to undertake to fry a dozen of eggs on the\ntomb of a Turkish _santon_, a short distance beyond the Patissia\ngate--to leave a pot of charcoal, to be seen next morning, as a proof of\nhis valour, and return to the party with the dish of eggs.\n\nThe expedition was arranged, in spite of the opposition of the ladies;\nfour or five of the young men promised to follow at a little distance,\nunknown to Michael, to be ready lest any thing should happen. Michael\nhimself, with a _zembil_ containing a pot of charcoal, a few eggs and a\nflask of oil in one hand, and a frying-pan and small lantern in the\nother, closely enveloped in his dusky capote, proceeded smiling to his\ntask. The tomb of the Turk consisted of a marble cover taken from some\nancient sarcophagus, and sustained at the corners by four small pillars\nof masonry--the top was not higher than an ordinary table, and below the\nmarble slab there was an empty space between the columns. It has long\nsince disappeared; but that is not wonderful, since King Otho and his\nsubjects have contrived to destroy almost every picturesque monument of\nthe past in the new kingdom. The thousands of Turkish tombs which not\nmany years ago gave a historic character to the desert environs of\nNegrepont, and the splendid _serail_ of Zeitouni, with its magnificent\nmarble fountains and baths, have almost disappeared--the storks have bid\nadieu to Greece--nightly bonfires, caused by absurd laws, destroy the\nfew trees that remain; and in short, unless travellers make haste and\nvisit Greece quickly, they will see nothing but the ruins which King\nOtho cannot destroy nor Pittaki deface, and the curiosities which Ross\ncannot give to Prince Pueckler, added to the pleasure they will derive\nfrom beholding King Otho's own face and the facade of his new palace.\n\nThe night was extremely dark and cold, so that the friends of Michael,\nfamiliar as they were with their native city, found some difficulty in\nfollowing him without a lantern through the mass of ruins Athens then\npresented. As they approached the tomb, they perceived that he had\nalready lighted his charcoal, and was engaged in blowing it vigorously,\nas much to warm his hands as to prepare for his cooking operations.\nCreeping as near to him as possible without risking a discovery, they\nheard, to their amazement, a deep voice apparently proceeding from the\ntomb, which exclaimed, \"Bou gedje kek sohuk der adamlera.--It must be a\ncold night for mankind.\" \"To pisevo effendi,\" said Michael in a careless\ntone, but nervously proceeded to pour a whole bottle of oil into the\nfrying-pan. As soon as the oil was boiling and bubbling, the voice from\nthe tomb again exclaimed, \"Gaiour ne apayorsun, mangama\npisheriorsun--yuckle buradam--aiyer yiklemassun ben seni kibab\nederem, tahamun yerine seni yerim,\" signifying pretty nearly,\n\"Infidel, what are you doing here? You appear to be cooking; fly hence,\nor I will eat my supper of thy carrion.\" And at the instant a head\ncovered by an enormous white turban protruded itself from under the\ntombstone with open mouth. Michael, either alarmed at the words and the\napparition, or angry at the suspicion of a premeditated trick on the\npart of his companions, seized the panful of boiling oil, and poured the\nwhole contents into the gaping mouth of the spectre, exclaiming, \"An\necheis toson orexin, na to ladhi, Scheitan oglou!--If you are so hungry,\ntake the oil, son of Satan!\" A shriek which might have awakened the dead\nproceeded from the figure, followed by a succession of hideous groans.\nThe friends of Michael rushed forward, but the lamp had fallen to the\nground and was extinguished in the confusion. Some time elapsed ere it\nwas found and lighted. The unfortunate figure was dragged from the tomb,\nsuffocated by the oil, and evidently in a dying state, if indeed life\nwas not already extinct. Slowly the horrible truth became apparent.\nNerio had separated himself from the rest of the party unperceived,\ndisguised himself, and gained the tomb before the arrival of Michael,\nwho thus became the murderer of his sister's lover. I shall not attempt\nto describe the feelings of Michael in recounting this dreadful scene.\n\nThe affair never made much noise. The Turks did not consider themselves\nauthorized to meddle in the affairs of the Greeks. Indeed, the infamous\nmurder of the Greek _bakalbashi_, a short time before by Jussuf-bey,\nwith his own hand, had so compromised their authority, that they were in\nfear of a revolution. The truth was slowly communicated to Euphrosyne by\nMichael himself--she bore it better than he had anticipated. She\nconsoled her brother and herself by devoting her life to religious and\ncharitable exercises; but she never entered a monastery nor publicly\ntook the veil. She still lives at Athens, where her charity is\nexperienced by many, though few ever see her. When I left Greece on a\nvisit to Mount Athos, my friend Michael insisted on accompanying me;\nand, after our arrival on the holy mountain, he exacted from me a\npromise that I would never discover to any one the monastery into which\nhe had retired, nor even should we by chance meet again, address him as\nan acquaintance, unless he should speak to me. His sister alone is\nentrusted with his secret.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} The _par_, which indicates the double or equal summit, is only found\nin Latin, though unquestionably AEolic; the other two derivations are\nclassic Greek. Parnes, Parnettus, Parnassus. The name of the two\nmountains is precisely the same.\n\n\n\n\nAFRICA--SLAVE TRADE--TROPICAL COLONIES.\n\n\nThe readers of this magazine will readily remember the part which it\ntook, at an early period, in discussing and in delineating the\ngeographical features of Africa. In the number for June 1826 there is an\narticle, accompanied by a map, showing from undoubted authorities the\ncourse and termination of the great river Niger in the sea in the Bight\nof Benin, where, from similar authorities, it was placed by me in 1820\nand 1821, and where actual observation by Englishmen has lately clearly\nestablished the fact that it does terminate. In the upper and middle\nparts of its course the longitudes were erroneous, having adopted Major\nRennell's delineation of Western Africa as a guide; but in 1839 the\nwhole of that quarter of Africa was narrowly examined, and the courses\nof the western rivers reduced to their proper positions, as delineated\nin my large map of Africa constructed in that year, to which, with the\n\"Geographical Survey of Africa,\" for which it was made, the reader is\nreferred for further and particular information on all these subjects.\n\nWith these observations, I proceed to bring before the reader\ngeographical information concerning eastern and central Africa of the\nhighest and most gratifying importance, and obtained by the researches\nof different voyagers and travellers within the last four years.\nForemost amongst these ranks, the expedition sent by the present Viceroy\nof Egypt to explore the Bahr-el-Abiad, or White River, above its\njunction with the Blue River, from Khartoum upwards and southwards;\nafter it, the interesting travels of Messrs Krapf and Isenberg, two\nmissionaries from the Church Missionary Society, from Tajura to Ankobar,\nfrom Ankobar south-west to the neighbourhood of the sources of the\nHawash; and after that, Mr Krapf's journey from Ankobar north by Lake\nHaik, through Lasta to Antalow, and thence to Massouah on the Red Sea.\nNext, the interesting accounts collected by M. Lefebvre and M.\nD'Abbadie, concerning the countries in some parts of the more eastern\nhorn of Africa; and last, and the most specific and important of the\nwhole, the accounts received of the country of Adel, and the countries\nand rivers in and south of Shoa, and those from the Blue Nile in Gojam\nand Damot to the sea at the mouth of the Jub, under the equator, by\nMajor Harris, late British ambassador to the King of Shoa.\n\nAs the present article is accompanied by a map, constructed after great\nlabour, and engraved most carefully by Mr Arrowsmith, the general\noutline of the whole may here be deemed sufficient, without lengthened\ndiscussion and observation.\n\nThe Egyptian expedition alluded to started from Khartoum (now become a\nfine town) at the close of the wet season in 1839. It consisted of four\nor five small sailing vessels, some passage boats, and four hundred men\nfrom the garrison of Senaar, the whole commanded by an able officer,\nCAPTAIN SELIM. They completed their undertaking, and returned to\nKhartoum at the end of 135 days, during which time, in obedience to the\ncommands of their master, they explored the Bahr-el-Abiad to the\ndistance southwards of 1300 miles, (turnings and windings included,) to\nthree degrees thirty minutes north latitude, and thirty-one east\nlongitude, from Greenwich, where it divided into two streams; the\nsmaller, and it is very small, coming from the south-west, and the\nlarger, still even at the close of the dry season a very considerable\nriver, which came from the south-east, upwards from the east, and still\nmore upwards from the north-east. A subsequent voyage in 1841 gained the\ninformation that the stream descended past Barry, and there can be no\ndoubt that another, if not the chief branch, comes from the south-east,\nin the bearing which Ptolemy gave it, and, as he states, from amongst\nmountains covered with perpetual snow, of which Bruce also heard, and\nwhich we now learn from Major Harris really stand in that quarter of\nAfrica.\n\nThe longitude of the river at the bifurcation is exactly the same as\nPtolemy has given it, which is very remarkable. The sources of the\nWhite River will therefore be found where Ptolemy and Bruce have placed\nthem. The latter, in his notes, states expressly that the Bahr-el-Abiad\nrose to the south of Enarea, not far from the equator, and that it had\nno great western branch, nor was any necessary to give the river its\nmagnitude. (Vol. vii. App. p. 92.)\n\nThe expedition in question found no very large affluents from the west\nside; but they found two of very considerable magnitude on the east\nside--one the Blue River, and the other the Red River, or Bahr-Seboth,\nwhich latter they navigated upwards of 150 miles in a direct line, and\nleft it a considerable stream, nearly as large as the eastern branch of\nthe White River, where they had left it. The banks of the Bahr-Seboth\nwere precipitous and high, whereas those of the Bahr-el-Abiad were low,\nand on both sides covered with lakes, the remains probably of the\npreceding inundation. Scarcely a hill or mountain was in sight from the\nriver till approaching the bifurcation, when the country became\nmountainous, the climate more cool, and the vegetation and trees around\nthose of the temperate zone. The country on both sides is a high\ntable-land, the scenery every where very beautiful, well peopled by\ndifferent tribes, copper-coloured, and some of them even fair. Every\nwhere the banks are covered and ornamented with beautiful trees, and\ncattle, sheep, goats, elephants, &c., are numerous and abundant. Amongst\nthe Bhours, they found Indian goods brought from the shores of the\nIndian ocean. Day by day, the breadth, depth, and current of the river\nwere observed and marked. For a considerable distance above Khartoum,\nthe breadth was from one and a half to one and a quarter mile, the depth\nthree or four fathoms, and the current about one and a half mile per\nhour. Above the parallel of nine degrees, the river takes a remarkable\nbend due west for about 90 miles, when it passes through a large lake,\nthe waters of which emitted an offensive smell, which might proceed from\nmarshy shores.{A} Above the lake, the breadth decreases to one-third or\none-fourth of a mile, the depth to twelve or thirteen feet, with a\ncurrent of one and a half mile per hour, the bottom every where sand,\nwith numerous islands interspersed in the stream. The mountainous\ncountry around the upper part abounds with iron mines.\n\nGoing eastward, we come to the elevated mountainous ranges which give\nbirth to the Bahr-el-Abiad to the south, the Gochob, the Kibbee, and\ntheir numerous tributary streams to the east and south-east, and the\nToumat, the Yabous, the Maleg, and other rivers which flow north into\nthe Abay. This vast chain is very elevated, and in many places very\ncold, especially to the west of Enarea, and to the west and south of\nKaffa. From the sources of the Kibbee and the Yabous, it stretches\neastwards to Gurague, and thence, still eastward, by the Aroosi, Galla,\nand Hurrur or Harrar, to Cape Guardafui, approaching in some places to\nwithin sixty miles or less of the sea of Babel-Mandeb; the elevation to\nthe east of Berbera decreases to about 5000 feet, and from which\nnumerous streams flow both to the north and to the south. Eastward of\nthe meridian of Gurague, a branch from the chain strikes off due north\nthrough Shoa, by Ankobar and Lake Haik, to the northward of which it\nseparates, and runs one branch N.N.W. to Samen, and another by Angot,\nN.E. by east, to the Red Sea, at Assab, and the entrance of the straits\nof Babel-mandeb. The whole of this chain is very elevated; near Ankobar\nsome peaks being 14,000 feet high, and constantly white with snow or\nhail; and round the sources of the Tacazze and the Bashilo, near the\nterritory of the Edjow Galla, the mountains are covered with snow. Mr\nKrapf, in his journey more to the east, found the cold exceedingly keen,\nthe elevation exceeding 10,000 feet; and still more eastward, near the\nlittle Assanghe lake, Pearce found hoar frost in the mornings in the\nmonth of October. From the ranges mentioned, numerous other ranges\nbranch off in different directions, forming the divisions between tribes\nand rivers, the latter of which are very rapid, and their borders or\nbanks very high and precipitous, and rugged.\n\nFrom the province of Bulga or Fattygar, this chain, running\nnorthwards, rises to a great height, springing like the walls of a\nfortification from the western bank of the Hawash, from whence numerous\nsmall streams descend to increase that river. All to the eastward of\nthat river is comparatively low, (called Kolla, or the low hot country,)\nand to the sea-shore is one continued sheet of volcanic strata and\nextinct volcanoes, dry and poor, especially during the dry season, when\ntravelling is difficult and dangerous owing to the want of water. It is\ninhabited chiefly by wild beasts and by fierce tribes of the wandering\nDancali, and, more to the south-east, by the Mohammedan Somauli. In\nearly times this country, however, was rich and powerful, from being the\nchannel of commerce between Abyssinia when powerful, and the countries\nto the east, Arabia, Persia, and India. From Zeila and Erur southward,\nthe country improves, and becomes fertile and well watered.\n\nBefore turning our attention to the interesting countries round the\nsources of the Gochob and its tributary streams, and those through which\nit subsequently flows, so clearly brought to our knowledge by Major\nHarris, (he is certainly the first who has done so,) and the survey of\nthe coast near its mouth by Lieutenant Christopher of the Indian navy,\nand by him given to the gallant major--it is necessary, for the better\nunderstanding of our subject, to turn our attention to the explanation\nof the names of some countries and places given so differently by\ndifferent informants, and which, thus given and not sufficiently\nattended to, create great confusion and great errors in African\ngeography.\n\nBy the aid of Mr Bruce, Mr Krapf, Major Harris, and information\ncollected from native travellers, (see _Geographical Bulletins of\nParis_, Nos. 78 and 98,) we are enabled to rectify these points, and\nclear away heaps of inaccuracies and confusion.\n\nFirst, then, Enarea and Limmu are the same. The country is called Enarea\nby the Abyssinians, and Limmu by the Gallas, having been conquered by a\nGalla tribe of that name, which tribe came originally from the\nsouth-west. There is another Limmu, probably so named from another\nportion of the same tribe. It is near or the same as Sibou, which,\naccording to Bruce, is ten days' journey from the capital of Enarea,\nand, according to the French Geographical Bulletin, (No. 114,) not far\nfrom Horro and Fazoglo. But the first Limmu is the Limmu of Jomard's\nGalla Oware, because he states distinctly that Sobitche was its capital;\nthat, in marching northwards from it, he crossed the Wouelmae river; and\nthat Gingiro, to which he had been, lay to the right, or east, of his\nearly route; and further, that the river which passed near Sobitche ran\nto the south. Enarea is not very extensive, but a high table-land, on\nevery side surrounded by high mountain ranges, and is situated (see\n_Geographical Bulletin_, 1839) at the confluence of two rivers, the Gibe\nand the Dibe.\n\nKaffa, in its restricted sense, is a state on the upper Gochob; but, in\nits ancient and extended meaning, it is a large country, extending from\nnorth to south a journey of one month, and includes in it several states\nknown by separate names, although the whole of these are often referred\nto in the name Kaffa by native travellers. It is known also by the names\nof Sidama and Susa, and the people of Dauro call it Gomara; but the\nChristians in Southern Abyssinia call it Kaffa, and Sidama or Susa,\nwhich latter, properly speaking, forms its southern parts.\n\nDawro, Dauro, or Woreta, are the same; it is a large country, and\ndivided into three states--namely, Metzo or Metcho, Kulloo, and Goba;\nand is a low and hot, but fertile country, situated to the east of\nKaffa, and to the west of the Gochob.\n\nMajor Harris is the only individual who has given us the bearings and\ndistances connected with this portion of Africa, and without which the\ngeographical features of the country could not have been fixed with any\nprecision; but which, having been obtained, act as pivots from which the\ncorrect positions of other places are ascertained and fixed with\nconsiderable accuracy.\n\nLet us now attend to the sources and the courses of the principal\nrivers. The Kibbee, or Gibe, has three sources. The chief branch springs\nto the west of Ligamara, and southwards of that place it runs east,\n(_Geographical Bulletin_, No. 105, _and also_ No. 78,) when suddenly\nturning upon itself; as it were, it bends its course westward to Limmu,\nhaving below Leka received the Gwadab, coming from the west and passing\nto the south of Lofe. The Kibbee waters the small but elevated country\nof Nono, and passes very near Sakka. Westward of Sakka it is joined by\ntwo other branches coming from the north-west and west, one called\nWouelmae, the Wouelmae of Oware, and the other Dibe. From thence it\nflows eastward, and bounds Gingiro on the north. The early Portuguese\ntravellers expressly state, that six days' journey due east from Sakka,\nand at one day's journey from the capital of Gingiro, having first\ncrossed a very high mountain, they crossed the Kibbee, a rapid rocky\nstream, and as large as the Blue River where they had crossed it in the\ncountry of the Gongas. On the third day after leaving the capital of\nGingiro, pursuing their course due east to the capital of Cambat, they\nagain crossed the Zebee, or Kibbee, _larger_ than it was to the westward\nof Gingiro, but less rapid and rocky; its waters resembling _melted\nbutter_, (hence its name,) owing, no doubt, to the calcareous ridges\nthrough which it flowed. From thence it bends its course to the\nsouthward, and is soon after joined by the Gochob, which bounds the\nempire of Gingiro to the south. Bruce particularly and emphatically\nmentions the extraordinary angle which the Kibbee here makes.\n\nTo the north of Gingiro the Kibbee is joined by the Dedhasa, (pronounced\nNassal,) and which is considered to be the same as Daneza or Danesa,\nwhich, according to Lieutenant Christopher, is a Galla name for the Jub\nor Gochob. This river is passed (see _Geographical Bulletin of 1839_)\nbefore coming to Ligamara and Chelea, and one and a half day's journey\nfrom Gouma, in the route from Gooderoo to Enarea. In its lower course it\nabounds with crocodiles. Below the junction with the Dedhasa, the Kibbee\nreceives the Gala river, coming from the north-east, and from the\nconfines of Gurague and Kortshassie.\n\nThe separation of the waters in these parts takes place to the north of\nGonea and Djimma, or Gouma. The rivers that flow to the Blue Nile or\nAbay, with the exception of the Yabous, which is, according to Bruce, a\nconsiderable stream descending from the south and south-east, are all\nsmall streams. Shat, the province where the tea-plant is produced, is\nsituated to the north of Enarea, and is watered by the river called\nGiba, the fish of which are said to be poisonous, (_Bruce_, vol. iii. p.\n254.) Bruce states most pointedly that the capital of Enarea is fifty\nleagues distant from the passage of the Abay at Mine, \"due south, a\nlittle inclining to the west,\" (Vol. iii. page 324;) and which bearing\nand distance corresponds very correctly with several very clear and\nsatisfactory itineraries lately obtained. Without any high peaks or\nmountains, the country round the sources of these rivers is very\nelevated, and from the grain and fruits which they produce, cannot be\nless than 7500 feet above the level of the sea.\n\nThe Toumat is a small stream. Above Cassan, says the _Geographical\nBulletin_, No. 110, it has water all the year, thus indicating that\nbelow that place the water fails in the dry season. It runs between two\nhigh chains of mountains; the east Bank, that chain being known as the\ncountry called Bertat. The rains, according to Bruce, (the _Geographical\nBulletin_ agrees in this,) commence in April; but they do not fall heavy\nat that time, and but little affect the rivers. Beyond the chain, on the\nwestern bank of the Toumat, the country is level to Denka and the banks\nof the White River, which is stated to be eleven days' journey due west\nfrom Fazoglo. Iron is very abundant in the countries round the Toumat\nand the Yabous, and caravans of Arabian merchants regularly traverse the\ncountry from Ganjar near Kuara, and two days' journey south of\nKas-el-Fael, by Fazoglo and Fadessi, to Kaffa and Bany; the road, as the\nlatter places are approached, being described as hilly and very woody,\nwith numerous small streams.\n\nThe Gochob rises in Gamvou, a high, wild, and woody country, part of\nLimmu; and bending its course south-east, next east, and then\nsouth-east, it forms the lake Tchocha, and afterwards rolls over the\ngreat cataract Dumbaro, soon after which it joins the Kibbee, when the\nunited stream tales the name of the Gochob, or Jub, by which it is known\ntill it enters the sea. Where crossed in the road from Sakka to Bonga,\nit is described as larger than any other stream which flows to join it\nfrom the country more to the south; much larger, indeed, than either the\nGitche or Omo, its subsequent tributaries. These are the principal\nrivers of Kaffa, which is described as a high, cold country, as cold as\nSamen, or Simien, as Major Harris writes it, in Abyssinia. Bonga, the\ncapital of Kaffa, or Susa, is one of the largest cities in these parts,\nand coffee of superior quality is produced every where, both in Kaffa\nand Enarea, in the greatest abundance. So also is civet and ivory.\n\nThe Omo, where crossed in the road to Tuftee, is passed by a bridge of\nwood sixty yards in length, which shows that it is not a very large\nriver, nor can it be, this place being so near the district where its\nsources must lie. In the dry season it is described as a very small\nstream. The mountains in the south of Kaffa or Susa, are covered with\nsnow, and to the south of this place they are said to rise to a\nstupendous height, \"to reach the skies,\" and are clothed with eternal\nsnow!\n\nMalo, or Malee, (as Major Harris spells it,) is westward from Koocha,\nand not far from Jajo, (certainly the Jedo of Salt,) and which is at a\nconsiderable distance from the sea, (_Geographical Bulletin_, No. 114.)\nMalee touches upon both Goba and Doko, and the latter again touches upon\nKulloo. It is in Malee that the Omo, now a considerable stream, joins\nthe Gochob, after having received from the mountains of Souro and\nvalleys of Sasa the Toreesh or Gotze, a considerable stream. Doko and\nMalee, like Dauro or Woreta, are very hot low countries, abounding in\ncotton. In Doko, bamboo forests are frequent and extensive. The\npopulation are represented to be of a diminutive stature, exceedingly\nrude and ignorant, and are a prey to all their surrounding neighbours,\nwho invade their country at pleasure, and carry off the wretched people\ninto slavery. In this portion of Africa, or very near it, the early Arab\nwriters and Portuguese navigators placed a nation of pigmies; and in\nthis it would appear that they were correct. After the junction of the\nOmo, the Gochob pursues its way by Ganana to the sea at Juba, a few\nmiles to the south of the equator. The western bank is inhabited by\nGalla tribes, and the eastern by Somauli. In this part of its course it\nis called Jub by the Arabians, Gowend or Govend by the Somauli, Yumbu by\nthe Souahilis, and Danesa by the Gallas.\n\nThe Gochob below Wolama is joined on the east side by a considerable\nstream called the Una, which rises to the south of Gurague; and in\nKoocha and on the same side by a still larger stream, which comes from\nthe country of the Ara or Ala Galla to the east of Gurague, and near the\nwestern sources of the Wabbe or Webbe. Koocha is thirty days' navigation\nupwards and fifteen downwards from the sea, with which it has a\nconsiderable trade; white or fair people coming up the river to that\nplace; but these are not allowed to proceed further inland. The\ninhabitants of Koocha carry on a great trade by means of the Gochob with\nDauro in slaves, ivory, coffee, &c.; the Galla of Dauro bringing these\ndown the Gochob in rafts with high gunwales, which indicates that the\nGochob is a river of considerable magnitude, and may become of great\nimportance in the future communications with Africa; the soil and\nclimate around it being very fine, particularly in the lower parts near\nthe sea, where the land is level, and the soil a fine deep red mould.\n\nAfter Bruce, Salt had delineated with considerable accuracy the source\nof the Webbe and the countries around it; but, except his map, we had no\nfurther particulars. These are, however, supplied by Major Harris and Mr\nKrapf in the countries south-east of Shoa, about Harrar and its sources;\nand further by accounts collected by D'Abbadie at Berbera from\nintelligent natives, travellers regarding the countries more to the\nsouth, and over the remainder of the north-eastern coast of Africa.\n\nThe principal source of the Webbe is to the east of the Aroosi\nmountains, and in the country of the Ala Galla; whence, running\neastward, it passes Imi and Karanle, (the Karain of Krapf;) it runs\nsouth-east and afterwards south in a winding course towards the Indian\nocean. To the north of six degrees of latitude, it is joined by several\nstreams from the neighbourhood of Harrar and places more to the east;\nand in about six degrees of latitude, by a large stream which rises near\nLake Souaie, and runs through the country of Bergama or Bahr Gama. The\nvarious countries through which the Webbe and his tributaries flow, are\ndistinctly marked on the map. The country around its sources is very\nhilly and cold, the mountains resembling in height and appearance the\nboldest in Abyssinia; and to the eastward of its middle course, the\nmountains in Howea are very high and cold. In these springs the river\nDoaro, which flows into the sea, a considerable river during the rains;\nbut at other times its mouth is nearly blocked up with sand, which is\nthe case with some streams more to the northward.\n\nNorth of Mount Anot the country is fine and well watered, and during the\nrains a very large river, according to Christopher, flows through it,\ndescending from the range to the south-east of Berbera, and entering the\nsea in about eight degrees thirty minutes north latitude. Around Capes\nHalfoon and Guardafui the country is fine and well watered with small\nstreams, and the climate delicious, as is the coast from Cape Guardafui\nwestward to Berbera.\n\nHarrar stands in a beautiful, fertile, and well-watered valley,\nsurrounded with hills, the soil rich, and producing fine coffee\nabundantly. It is strictly Mahommedan, and, comparatively speaking, a\nconsiderable place, though much shorn of its dominion and power from\nthose days when it had become the capital of that portion of eastern\nAfrica ruled by the Mahommedans; and when under Mahommed _Gragne_,\n(left-handed,) it overran and desolated the whole Abyssinian empire,\nthen under that unfortunate sovereign King David. In the county south of\nBerbera there is abundance of fine wells of excellent water. Waggadeyn\nis a very beautiful country, and produces abundance of myrrh and\nfrankincense, as in fact every portion of the eastern horn, from Enarea\ninclusive, also does. It is the great myrrh and frankincense country,\nfrom which Arabia, Egypt, Judea, Syria, and Tyre were supplied in early\ndays of Scripture history. The Webbe is only six fathoms broad and five\nfeet deep in the dry season in Waggadeyn; but in the rainy season the\ndepth is increased to five fathoms. It is navigated by rafts lower down.\nIncense, gum, and coffee, are every where abundant around the Webbe and\nits tributary streams. Harrar contains about 14,000 inhabitants, and\nBerbera 10,000; Sakka about 12,000.\n\nAll the early Arabian writers pointedly state, and so also do the\nPortuguese discoverers, that the Webbe entered the sea _near Mukdishu_\nor Magadoxo. This was no doubt the fact; but from what cause we know\nnot, the river, after approaching within a short distance of Magadoxo to\nthe north, turns south-west, and approaching in several places very near\nthe sea, from which it is only separated by sandhills, it terminates in\na lake about halfway between Brava and the Jub. This is Christopher's\naccount; but my opinion is, that this lake communicates with the sea\nduring the rainy season, and even in a small stream in the dry season\nalso. Christopher pointedly states, that besides filtrating through the\nsandhills, it communicates with the sea in two places, between Merka and\nBrava; and that this is correct, is proved from the fact, that while the\nriver near Merka is 175 feet broad, it is reduced to seventy-five feet\nnear Brava; while the _Geographical Bull._, No. 98, p. 96, states, that\na small river enters the sea to the south of Brava, a branch\nunquestionably from the Webbe.\n\nThe country between Magadoxo and the Jub is called Ber-el-Banader, and\nnorth of Magadoxo, and situated between the Webbe and the Doaro, is the\nconsiderable province called Hamer. Christopher describes the Somauli\ninhabiting the lower Webbe as civil and obliging, the soil fine and\nfruitful, and the climate the most delicious he had ever visited. The\ninhabitants offered to conduct him in safety to Abyssinia, and into very\nremote districts in the interior. The name of England is beginning to be\nwell known, respected, and feared in this fine portion of Africa; and it\nis not a little to be regretted and lamented that this has not been the\ncase at a much earlier period.\n\nThe early Arabian writers, such as Batouta, write Magadoxo, Mukdishu;\nChristopher states that it is now divided into two parts, in a state of\nhostilities with each other, and that the southern part is called\nMukutshu, and the northern Mukkudeesha.\n\nAccording to the _Geographical Bulletin_, No. 98, p. 98, the word\n_ganana_ signifies _queue_, or tail, which explains at once the river\nwhich Christopher makes enter the Webbe near Galwen, coming from the\nnorth-westward, to be in reality a branch flowing off from the Jub at\nthat place. It is a thing unknown to find a river rising in a low\nalluvial country.\n\nTo the east of the Webbe the country is inhabited by Somauli tribes, who\nare Mahommedans and considerable traders. The country seems every where\nto have a considerable population; and instead of being a blank and a\nwaste, as hitherto supposed and represented on maps, it is found to be\none of the finest portions of Africa, or of the world. Grain of every\nkind known in the temperate zones, especially wheat of superior\nqualities, is most abundant, and so cheap that the value of a dollar can\npurchase as much as will maintain a man for a whole year!\n\nThe sources of the Hawash approach within about thirty miles of the\nAbay. The lake Souaie in Gurague is about thirty miles in circumference,\nand contains numerous islands. In these are lodged some ancient and\nvaluable Abyssinian records. It is fed by five small rivers, and empties\nitself into the Hawash, (see _Ludolf_.) Gurague is a Christian state,\nbut reduced to great misery and poverty by the Galla tribes which\nsurround it on every side. The elevation of Ankobar above the sea is\n8200 feet, and of Augollalla about 200 more; so that the climate is very\nmoderate. The country is every where very mountainous; but at the same\ntime is in many places well cultivated. The rivers run in deep valleys\nor dells, and are very rocky and rapid. The present kingdom of Shoa\ncontains about 2,500,000 of inhabitants, chiefly Christians of the\nAlexandrian Church.\n\nIn March 1842, Mr Krapf set out from Ankobar, to proceed to Egypt, by\nway of Gondar and Massuah; but, after traversing the mountainous parts\nof Northern Shoa, and the countries of the Woollo-Galla, and reaching a\nshort distance beyond the Bashilo, (then only five days' journey from\nGondar,) he was compelled, from hostilities prevailing among the chiefs\nin that quarter, to retrace his steps to Gatera. In the journey which he\nhad so far accomplished, Mr Krapf traversed the country near the sources\nof the numerous rivers which flow to form the Jimma and the Bashilo. The\nmountains were high and cold, (especially in the province of Mans,) and\nexceedingly precipitous, ascending and descending 3000 feet in the\ncourse of a few hours. The soil in the valleys was good, and tolerably\nwell cultivated. Sheep, with long black wool, were numerous; the\npopulation in general rude and ignorant. From Gatera he took his course\nto Lake Haik, and from thence, pursuing his route north-eastward, he\ncrossed the numerous streams which rise in the mountainous range to the\nwestward, and pursue their course to the country of Adel, north of\nAussa. Crossing the very elevated range on the western frontier of\nmodern Angot, he pursued his journey to Antalon, leaving at Lat the\nTacazze four days' journey to the west, and crossing in his course the\nnumerous streams, such as the Tarir, the Ghebia, Sumshato, and the\nTyana, (this last a considerable river,) which flow northward from the\nmountains of Angot and Woggerat to form the Areequa, a large tributary\nto the Tacazze. Mr Krapf's route lay a little to the westward of Lake\nAssanghe, and considerably in this portion thereof to the west of the\nroute of Alvaraez, who passed on the south side of Mount Ginnamora, from\nwhence the streams descended to the south-east.\n\nLake Haik is a fine sheet of water about forty-five miles in\ncircumference, with an island near the north-west corner, and an outlet\nin the west, which runs to the Berkona. On the east and the south sides\nit is surrounded with high mountains. Mount Ambassel or Amba Israel, the\ncelebrated mountain in Geshen where the younger branches of the royal\nfamily of Abyssinia were imprisoned in early times, is a little to the\nnorth of Lake Haik, and beyond the Mille. It runs north and south, in\nlength about twelve or thirteen miles, and is exceedingly high and\nsteep, the sides thereof being almost perpendicular. Mr Krapf, amongst\nthe most considerable rivers which he passed in this quarter, mentions\nthe Ala, which he states runs to, and is lost in, the deserts of the\ncountry of Adel. This is important, and this river is no doubt the Wali\nof Bruce, which he mentions (vol. iii. p. 248) as the scene of a\nremarkable engagement between the sovereigns of Abyssinia and Adel in\n1576, during the reign of the Abyssinian king Sertza Denghel. The\nAbyssinian army descended from Angot, and crossing the Wali, a\nconsiderable river, cut off the army of Adel from Aussa, drove a portion\nthereof into the stream, where they were drowned, while the remainder\nflying crossed the stream lower down, and thus effected their escape to\nAussa. This confirms in a remarkable manner the position of this river,\nand would almost go to establish the fact that it cannot unite with Lake\nAussa, the termination of the Hawash.\n\nAt the Ala Mr Krapf states that he was then seven days' journey from\nAussa. Aussa, according to Bruce, or rather the capital of Aussa, was in\nformer times situated on a rock on the bank of the river Hawash. It is\ncalled Aussa Gurel in the old Portuguese maps, and is no doubt the Aussa\nGuraiel of Major Harris, laid down on the Arabic map which he obtained\nfrom a native of that place. When low, the termination of the Hawash may\nbe said to form three lakes; but during the rainy season the land is\nflooded round to a great extent, the circumference of the lake then\nextending to 120 geographical miles. When the waters retire they leave,\nlike the Nile in Egypt, a quantity of fine mud or slime, which,\ncultivated as it immediately is, produces abundant crops, and on this\naccount the valley of Aussa is, and always has been, the granary of\nAdel. From the southern boundary of the lake to the place where the\nHawash finally extricates itself from the mountainous ranges, the\ndistance is about five days' journey, or from sixty to seventy miles.\nThe length of the fine valley of Aussa is about one hundred miles.\n\nFrom the summit of the chain which separates the waters which flow\nsouth-east to Adel, and north-west to the Tacazze, Mr Krapf says, that\nlooking over Lasta to the towering snow-clad peaks of Samen or Simien,\nthe whole country had the appearance of the raging waves of the sea in a\nterrible tempest. The soil around the upper branches of the Tacazze is\nvery good, especially in Wofila, Boora, and Enderta, adjoining the fine\nriver Tyana; but it is only indifferently cultivated, owing to the\nperpetual wars and feuds amongst the chieftains and tribes in these\nparts, and the bad and unsettled governments which now exist in Tigre,\nand, in fact, in all Abyssinia. Travelling in these parts is difficult\nand insecure, owing to the plundering dispositions of the people, and\nthe rapacity of the chiefs, who live beyond the control of any\ncommanding or great sovereign power. At Gatera Mr Krapf was robbed of\nevery thing that he had by the ferocious Woollo-Galla chief, _Adara\nBille_, from whose clutches he escaped with some difficulty.\n\nBut time and space forbids me going more at length into the interesting\njourneys of these late eastern travellers, amongst which those of Major\nHarris is certainly the most important. He has accurately determined,\nand been the first to determine, the longitude and latitude of Tajoura,\nLake Assal or the Salt Lake, and Ankobar, &c., and thus given correct\nstarting points from which to regulate the bearings and distances of the\nother very interesting places in the interior. The bay of Tajoura\naffords good anchorage; but the best point to start for the interior is\nZeila, the route thence to Shoa running along the edges of the watered\nand more cultivated districts.\n\nAmongst the travellers who visited this quarter of Africa lately is Dr\nT. C. Beke. He, however, went over the same ground as the others in his\njourney from Tajoura to Ankobar, (Messrs Krapf and Isenberg had preceded\nhim a considerable time;) therefore his letters and communications, so\nfar as yet known, contain little that is new. The only portion connected\nwith Shoa which the others had not visited, is about thirty-five miles\nof the lower course of the Jimma, near its junction with the Abay, where\nthe latter stream is about 600 feet broad, and from three to five feet\ndeep. His subsequent travels in this part of Africa were confined to\nGojam, Damot, and part of Agow Medre, and to the source of the Nile; but\nexcept being more minute in minor details regarding these provinces and\ntheir numerous small streams and rivers, they add little to the\ninformation given by Bruce. Still his journey, when given to the world,\nmay supply us with some interesting particulars regarding what he\nactually saw.\n\nDr Beke travelled individually for information; but, in aid of his\nlaudable enterprise, received some pecuniary assistance from the African\nCivilization Society and the Royal Geographical Society. Being a member\nof the former society, and while engaged in constructing the maps for\nthe journals of the Church Missionary Society in the summer of last\nyear--not for personal gain, but solely to benefit Africa--the\ncommunications and maps which from time to time came from Dr Beke to\nthat society, were readily put into my hands to use, where they could be\nused, to advance the cause of Africa. Amongst the maps there was one of\nthe countries to the south of the Abay, including Enarea, Kaffa, and\nGingiro, constructed at and sent from Yaush in Gojam, September 6, 1842,\ntogether with some of the authorities on which it had been made. In that\nmap the whole of the rivers, even to the south of Enarea and Kaffa, the\nGojob, (as the Doctor writes it,) the Omo, the Kibbee or Gibe, the\nDedhasa, and Baro, are all made, though rising beyond, that is, to the\nsouth of Gingiro and to the south and south-east of Kaffa and Woreta,\n(Woreta is placed to the south of Kaffa,) to run north-westward into the\nAbay. In fact, the Gojob is represented on that map to be the parent\nstream of the Bahr-el-Azreek or Blue River, and quite a distinct stream\nfrom the Abay, which it is made to join by the Toumat, having from the\nsouth-east received in its middle course the Geba, the Gibe, the\nDedhasa, and the Baro, and from the south-west the Omo or Abo. The whole\ndelineation, a copy of which I preserved, presented a mass so contrary\nto all other authorities, ancient and modern, that to rectify or reduce\nit to order was found impracticable, or where attempted only tended to\nlead into error.\n\nThe error of bringing such an influx of water as the rivers mentioned,\nand so delineated, would bring to the Blue Nile, is evident from the\nfact, that this river at Senaar in the dry season is, according to\nBruce, only about the size of the Thames at Richmond. His words are\nspecific and emphatic, (Vol. vii. App. p. 89)--\"The Nile at Babosch is\nlike, or greater than the Thames at Richmond\"--\"has fine white sand on\nits banks\"--\"the water is clear, and in some places not more than two\nfeet deep.\" Dumbaro (or Tzamburo, as the Doctor calls it in the map\nalluded to) is laid down between eight degrees and nine degrees north\nlatitude, and west of Wallega; Tuftee is placed more to the north on the\nriver designated the Blue River, and Gobo still further north upon it,\nin fact adjoining to its junction with the Abay. Doko is not noticed on\nthe map.\n\nThe intelligent native Abyssinian Gregorius, without referring to\nnumerous other credible, early, and also modern authorities, determines\nthis important point quite differently and accurately; for he assured\nLudolf, (A. D. 1650, see _Ludolf_, p. 38,) that all those rivers that\nare upon the borders of Ethiopia, in the countries of \"Cambat, Gurague,\nEnarea, Zandera, Wed, Waci, Gaci, and some others,\" do not flow into the\nNile or any of his tributaries, but \"enter the sea, every one in his\ndistinct region,\" that is, the Indian ocean.\n\nSince his return to England Dr Beke has, I have reason to believe, found\nout his great error; and will alter the course of all these rivers in\nEnarea and Kaffa, and bend their courses to the south-east and south.{B}\n\nWith these observations I proceed to a more important portion of my\nsubject; namely, the position and capabilities of Africa, as these\nconnect themselves with the present position and prospects of the\nBritish Tropical possessions, and the position and prospects of the\nTropical possessions of other powers.\n\nThe support of the power and the maintenance of the political\npreponderance of Great Britain in the scale of nations, depend upon\ncolonial possessions. To render colonies most efficient, and most\nadvantageous for her general interests, it is indispensably necessary\nthat these should be planted in the Tropical world, the productions of\nwhich ever have been, are, and ever will be, eagerly sought after by the\ncivilized nations of the temperate zones.\n\nOne of the greatest modern French statesmen, Talleyrand, understood and\nrecommended this fact to his master. In his celebrated memorial\naddressed to Bonaparte in 1801, speaking specially of England and her\ncolonies, he says:--\n\n     \"Her navy and her commerce are at present all her trust. France may\n     add Italy and Germany to her dominions with less detriment to Great\n     Britain then will follow the acquisition of a navy and the\n     extension of her trade. Whatever gives colonies to France supplies\n     her with ships, sailors, manufactures, and husbandmen. Victories by\n     land can only give her mutinous subjects, who, instead of\n     augmenting the national force by their riches or numbers,\n     contribute only to disperse and enfeeble that force; but the growth\n     of colonies supplies her with zealous citizens, and the increase of\n     real wealth; and increase of effective numbers is the certain\n     consequence.\"\n\n     \"What could Germany, Italy, Spain, and France, combining their\n     strength, do against England? They might assemble in millions on\n     the shores of the Channel, but THERE would be the limits of their\n     enmity. Without ships to carry them over, and without experienced\n     mariners to navigate these ships, Britain would only deride the\n     pompous preparation. The moment we leave the shore her fleets are\n     ready to pounce upon us, to disperse and to destroy our ineffectual\n     armaments. There lies her security; in her insular situation and\n     her navy consists her impregnable defence. Her navy is in every\n     respect the offspring of her trade. To rob her of that, therefore,\n     is to BEAT DOWN her LAST WALL, AND TO FILL UP HER LAST\n     MOAT. To gain it to ourselves is to enable us to take advantage of\n     her deserted and defenceless borders, and to complete the\n     humiliation of our only remaining competitor.\"\n\nThese are correct opinions, and merit the constant and most serious\nattention of every British statesman. The increased cultivation and\nprosperity of foreign Tropical possessions is become so great, and is\nadvancing so rapidly the power and the resources of other nations, that\nthese are embarrassing this country in all her commercial relations, in\nher pecuniary resources, and in all her political relations and\nnegotiations.\n\nDuring the fearful struggle of a quarter of a century, for her existence\nas a nation, against the power and resources of Europe, directed by the\nmost intelligent but remorseless military ambition against her, the\ncommand of the productions of the torrid zone, and the advantageous\ncommerce which that afforded, gave to Great Britain the power and the\nresources which enabled her to meet, to combat, and to overcome, her\nnumerous and reckless enemies in every battle-field, whether by sea or\nby land, throughout the world. In her the world saw realized the fabled\ngiant of antiquity. With her hundred hands she grasped her foes in every\nregion under heaven, and crushed them with resistless energy.\n\nWho, it may be asked, manned those fleets which bore the flag, and the\nfame, and the power, of England over every sea and into every land--who\nswept fleets from the sea, as at Aboukir, and navies from the ocean, as\nat Trafalgar?\n\nIt may pointedly and safely be stated--the seamen supplied by the\ncolonial trade, and chiefly by the West Indian colonial trade of Great\nBritain. About 2000 seamen, for example, were every year drawn into the\nWest Indian trade of the Clyde from the herring fisheries on the west\ncoast of Scotland, and just as regularly transferred from that colonial\ntrade into British men-of-war, such men being the best seamen that they\nhad, because they were men accustomed to every climate from the arctic\ncircle to the equator.\n\nIn the event of any future war, men of this description will more than\never be wanted; because the torrid regions are become more populous and\nmore powerful, either in themselves or as connected with great nations\nin the temperate zones, and consequently the sphere of European\nconflicts will be more extended in them.\n\nThe world, especially Europe and America, is vastly improved since 1815.\nGreat Britain must look at and attend to this. She must march and act\naccordingly. The world will not wait for her if she chooses to stand\nstill; on the contrary, other nations will \"go ahead,\" and leave her\nbehind to repent of her folly.\n\n\"England,\" said her greatest warrior, \"cannot have a little war;\"\nneither can she exist as a little nation.\n\nThe natives of the torrid zone can only labour in the cultivation of the\nsoil of that zone. In no other zone can the special productions of the\ntorrid zone be produced in perfection.\n\nThere now remains no portion of the tropical world where _labour can be\nhad on the spot_, and whereon Great Britain can so conveniently and\nsafely plant her foot, in order to accomplish the desirable\nobject--extensive Tropical cultivation--but Tropical Africa. Every other\npart is occupied by independent nations, or by people that may and will\nsoon become independent.\n\nBritish capital and knowledge will abundantly furnish the means to\ncultivate her rich fields. This is the only rational and lasting way to\ninstruct and to enlighten her people, and to keep them enlightened,\ncivilized, and industrious. By adopting this course also, that British\ncapital, both commercial and manufacturing, which in one way or other\nfinds its way, and which will continue to find its way, especially while\nmoney is so cheap in this country, into foreign possessions to assist\nthe slave trade and to support slavery--will be turned to support the\ncause of freedom in Africa, and at the same time to increase instead of\ntending to diminish the trade and the power of this country.\n\nThe principle which Great Britain has adopted in her future agricultural\nrelations with the Tropical world is, that colonial produce must be\nproduced, and that it can be produced in that region cheaper by free\nAfrican and East Indian labour than by slave labour. This great\nprinciple she cannot deviate from, nor attempt to revoke.\n\nIf the foreign slave trade be not extinguished, and the cultivation of\nthe Tropical territories of other powers opposed and checked by British\nTropical cultivation, then the interests and the power of such states\nwill rise into a preponderance over those of Great Britain; and the\npower and influence of the latter will cease to be felt, feared, and\nrespected, amongst the civilized and powerful nations of this world.\n\nCivilization and peace can only be brought round in Africa by the\nextension of cultivation, accompanied by the introduction of true\nreligion. Commerce will doubtless prove a powerful auxiliary; but to\nrender it so, and to raise commerce to any permanent or beneficial\nextent, cultivation upon an extensive scale must precede commerce in\nAfrica.\n\nIt is, therefore, _within_ Africa, and by African hands and African\nexertions chiefly, that the slave trade can be destroyed. It is IN\nAfrica, not OUT of Africa, that Africans, generally speaking, can and\nmust be enlightened and civilized. Teach and show her rulers and her\npeople, that they can obtain, and that white men will give them, more\nfor the productions of their soil than for the hands which can produce\nthese--and the work is done. All other steps are futile, can only be\nmischievous and delusive, and terminate in disappointment and defeat. To\neradicate the slave trade will not eradicate the passions which gave it\nbirth.\n\nIn attempting to extinguish the African slave trade and to benefit\nAfrica, Great Britain has, in one shape or other, expended during the\nlast thirty-six years above L20,000,000; yet, instead of that traffic\nbeing destroyed, it has, as regards the possessions of foreign powers,\nbeen trebled, and is now as great as ever, while Africa has received no\nadvantage whatever. Since 1808, about 3,500,000 slaves have been\ntransported from Africa to the Brazils and Cuba. The productions of what\nis technically denominated colonial Tropical produce has, in\nconsequence, been increased from L15,000,000 to L60,000,000 annually,\naugmented in part, it is true, from the natural increase of nearly one\nmillion slaves more in the United States of America.\n\nIn abolishing slavery in the West Indies, Great Britain has besides\nexpended above L20,000,000; still that measure has hitherto been so\nlittle successful, that L100,000,000 of fixed capital additional,\ninvested in these colonies, stand on the brink of destruction; while, in\naddition to the former sums, the people of Great Britain have, from the\nenhanced price of produce, paid during the last six or seven years\nL10,000,00 more, and which has gone chiefly, if not wholly, into the\npockets of the negro labourers in excessive high wages, the giant evil\nwhich afflicts the West Indies.\n\nWhen the emancipation of the slaves in the West Indies was carried\namidst feeling without judgment, the nation was so ready to pay\nL20,000,000, and the West Indians, especially those in England, so\nanxious to receive it, each considering that act all that was requisite\nto be done, that neither party ever thought for a moment of what foreign\nnations had done, were doing, and would do, in consequence. The warnings\nand advice of local knowledge were scouted in England, till these evils,\nwhich prudence might and ought to have prevented, now stare all parties\nin the face with a strength that puzzles the wisest and appals the\nboldest.\n\nInstead of supplying her own wants with Tropical produce, and next\nnearly all Europe, as she formerly did, it is the fact that, in some of\nthe most important articles, she has barely sufficient to supply her own\nwants; while the whole of her colonial possessions, east, west, north,\nand south, are at this moment supplied with--and, as regards the article\nof sugar, are consuming--foreign slave produce, brought direct, or,\nrefined in bond, exported and sold in the colonies at a rate as cheap,\nif not really cheaper, than British muscovado, the produce of these\ncolonies.\n\nSuch a state of things cannot continue, nor ought it any longer to be\npermitted to continue, without adopting an effectual remedy.\n\nThe extent of the power and the interests which are arrayed against each\nother, in this serious conflict, must be minutely considered to be\nproperly understood in a commercial and in a political point of view.\nUnless this is done the magnitude of the danger, and the assistance\nwhich is necessary to be given, and the exertions which are requisite in\norder to bring the contest to a successful issue, cannot be properly\nappreciated or correctly understood.\n\nThe value of what is technically called colonial produce at present\nproduced in the British colonial possessions, the East Indies included,\nis about L10,000,000 yearly, from a capital invested to the extent of\nL150,000,000. The trade thus created employs 800 ships, 300,000 tons,\nand 17,000 seamen yearly. This is the yearly value of the property and\nproduce of the British Tropical agricultural trade, now dependent upon\nfree labour.\n\nAgainst this we have opposed, in the western world alone, nearly\nL60,000,000 of agricultural produce, exportable and exported yearly,\nrequiring a trade in returns equal to L56,000,000, and a proportionate\nnumber of ships' tonnage and seamen. In the trade with Cuba and Port\nRico alone, the United States have 1600 vessels employed yearly,\n(230,000 tons of shipping,) making numerous and speedy voyages, and from\nwhich trade only, these states, in case of emergency, could man and\nmaintain from twenty to thirty sail of the line.\n\nOn the part of foreign nations there has, since 1808, been L800,000,000\nof fixed capital created in slaves, and in cultivation wholly dependent\nupon the labour of slaves. On the other hand, there stands on the part\nof Great Britain, altogether and only, about L130,000,000 (deducting the\nvalue paid for the slaves) vested in Tropical cultivation, and formerly\ndependent upon slave labour, and which has in part been swept away,\nwhile the remainder is in danger of being so.\n\nLet us have recourse to a few returns and figures, in order to show what\nis going on, especially by slave-labour in other countries, as compared\nwith British possessions, in three articles of colonial produce, namely,\nsugar, (reducing the foreign clayed sugar into muscovado to make the\ncomparison just,) coffee, and cotton; and as regards a few foreign\ncountries only, nearly three-fourths of which produce, be it observed,\nhas been created within the last thirty years.\n\n\nSUGAR--1842.\n\n    _British possessions._              _Foreign possessions._\n\n                          cwts.                          cwts.\n  West Indies,          2,508,552     Cuba,            5,800,000\n  East Indies,            940,452     Brazils,         2,400,000\n  Mauritius, (1841,)      544,767     Java,            1,105,757\n                        ---------     Louisiana,       1,400,000\n               Total,   3,993,771                     ----------\n                                             Total,   10,705,757\n\n\nCOFFEE--1842.\n\n                           lbs.                            lbs.\n  West Indies,          9,186,555     Java,           134,842,715\n  East Indies,         18,206,448     Brazils,        135,000,800\n                       ----------     Cuba,            33,589,325\n               Total,  27,393,003     Venezuela,       34,000,000\n                                                      -----------\n                                             Total,   337,432,840\n\n\nCOTTON--1840.\n\n                           lbs.                            lbs.\n  West Indies,            427,529     United States,  790,479,275\n  East Indies,         77,015,917     Java,           165,504,800\n  To China from do.,   60,000,000     Brazils,         25,222,828\n                      -----------                     -----------\n               Total, 137,443,446            Total,   981,206,903\n\nThe above figures require only to be glanced at, to learn the increased\nwealth and productions of foreign nations, in comparison with the\nportion which England has in the trade and value of such articles, now\nbecome absolutely necessary for the manufactures, the luxuries, and the\nnecessaries of life amongst the civilized nations of the world.\n\nIn the enormous property and traffic thus created in foreign\npossessions, by the continuance and extension of the slave trade,\nBritish merchants and manufacturers are interested in the cause of their\nlawful trade to a great extent. The remainder is divided amongst the\ngreat civilized nations of the world, maintaining in each very\nextensive, very wealthy, very powerful, and, as opposed to Great\nBritain, very formidable commercial and political rival interests.\n\nFurther, it is the very extensive and profitable markets which the\nabove-mentioned yearly creation of property gives to the manufacturers\nof foreign countries, that have raised foreign manufactures to their\npresent importance, and which enables these, in numerous instances, to\noppose and to rival our own.\n\nThe odds, therefore, in agricultural and commercial capital and\ninterest, and consequently in political power and influence, arrayed\nagainst the British Tropical possessions are very fearful--SIX TO ONE.\n\nThis is a most serious but correct state of things. Alarming as it is to\ncontemplate, still it must be looked at, and looked at with firmness;\nfor even yet it may be considered without terror or alarm.\n\nThe struggle, both national and colonial, is clearly therefore most\nimportant, and the stake at issue incalculably great.\n\nIt is by the assistance of African free labour, and by the judicious and\njust application thereof, both in Africa and in the West Indian\ncolonies, that the victory of free labour over slave labour, freedom\nover slavery, can be achieved and maintained.\n\nThe abundant population of Africa, properly directed, and a small\nportion gradually taken from judiciously selected districts of that\ncontinent, and under proper regulations, will be found sufficient to\ncultivate, not only her own fertile fields, but also to supply in\nadequate numbers free labourers to maintain the cultivation of the\nBritish West Indian colonies. It must always be borne in mind, that in\nthe maintenance of cultivation, civilization, and industry, in those\npossessions, the cultivation, industry, and civilization of Africa\ndepend. _The cause of both is henceforth the same, and cannot, and ought\nnot, and must not be separated._ Whatever sources the West Indian\ncolonies may and must look to for immediate relief, it is in civilized\nand enlightened Africa that they can only depend for a future and\npermanent support. Abandon this principle and this course, and the error\ncommitted will, at an early day, be fatal and final.\n\nYet if the labour of Africa is continued to be abstracted to any\nconsiderable extent by Europeans, and from any points except from free\nEuropean settlements in Africa, in order to cultivate other quarters of\nthe world, all hope of improving the condition of Africa is at an end;\nbecause the abstraction of such labour can only be obtained by the\ncontinuation of internal slavery and a slave trade within Africa;\nbecause labour, if generally abstracted from Africa as heretofore,\nwhether in freemen or slaves, will tend to enhance the cost of that\nwhich remains to such an extent, as will render it all but impossible\nfor any industrious capitalist, whether European or native, to extend\nand maintain successfully cultivation in Africa.\n\nHad the 9,000,000 of slaves which, from first to last, have been torn\nfrom Africa to cultivate America, been employed in their native land,\nsupported by European (British) capital, and guided by British\nintelligence, how much more beneficial and secure than it is, would\nevery thing have been to Africa, to England, and to the world?\n\nEurope has been acting wrong: let her not continue in error; and, at the\nsame time, let England meet and grapple with the question with enlarged\nand liberal views--views that look to future times and future\ncircumstances--views such as England ought to entertain, and such as\nGreat Britain only can yet see carried into effect.\n\nWe first established cultivation in the West Indies by a population not\nnatives of the soil, but which required to be imported from another and\ndistant quarter of the globe. This, politically and commercially\nspeaking, was a great error; but it has been committed, and it would be\na greater error to leave those people, now free British subjects, and\nthe large British capital there vested, to decay, misery, and general\ndeterioration. They must be supported, and it is fortunate that they can\nbe supported, through their present difficulties, without inflicting a\ngrievous wrong on Africa, by taking her children from her by wholesale\nto cultivate distant and foreign lands.\n\nIf European nations generally adopt the system of transporting labourers\nas freemen from Africa, then Africa would continue to be as much\ndistressed, tortured, and oppressed, as ever she has been; while with\nthe great strength of slave labour which those vast and fertile\ncountries, Brazils, Cuba, &c., possess, they would, by the unlimited\nintroduction of people called free from Africa, but which, once got\ninto their power, they could coerce to labour for stated hire, overwhelm\nby increased production all the British colonies both in the west and in\nthe east.\n\nSuch abstraction of the African population from their country, would\ngive a fearful impulse to an internal slave trade in Africa. The\nunfeeling chiefs on the coast, the most profligate, debased, and\nferocious of mankind, would by fraud, force, or purchase, in the\ncharacter of emigration agents, drag as many to the coast as they\npleased and might be wanted; and while they did not actually sell, nor\nthe European, technically speaking, buy, the people so brought from\ninterior parts, these chiefs, by simply fixing high port charges and\nfiscal regulations for revenue purposes, would obtain from the transfer\nof the people--a transfer which these people could not resist or\noppose--a much higher income than they before received from the _bona\nfide_ sale of slaves; and with which income they could, and they would,\npurchase European articles from European traders, to enable them to\nfurnish additional and future supplies.\n\nIn this way, millions after millions of Africans--for millions after\nmillions would most unquestionably be demanded--would certainly be\ncarried away. The poor creatures, unable to pay their own passage, would\nno more be their own masters from the moment they got on board the\nforeign ship, than if they were really slaves.\n\nSuch a traffic as this on the part of foreign nations, Great Britain\ncould neither denounce nor oppose while she herself resorted to a\nsimilar course. In one way only she could reasonably resist and oppose\nit; namely, by urging that she only took people from her own African\nsettlements, which are free, to her West Indian settlements, which are\nfree also; while foreign nations, such as Brazils, had no possessions of\nany kind on the coast of Africa, and at the same time retained slavery\nin their dominions. Great Britain could only urge this plea in\nopposition to such proceedings on the part of other powers; but would\nsuch reasoning, however proper and just, be admitted or listened to? I\ndo not think that it would. The consequences of the adoption of such a\ncourse by the nation alluded to, or by any other European power which\nhas Tropical colonies, (France, Spain, Denmark, and Holland have,) will\nprove fatal to the best interests of Great Britain.\n\nAlready the people in the Brazils have begun to moot the question--that\nthey ought in sincerity to put an end to the African slave trade, and in\nlieu thereof to bring labourers from Africa as free people. The supply\nof such that will be required, both to maintain the present numbers of\nthe black population and to extend cultivation in that country, will\ncertainly be great and lasting. The disparity of the sexes in Brazils is\nundoubtedly great. In Cuba it is in the proportion of 275,000 males to\n150,000 females, and, amongst the whole, the number of young persons is\nsmall. To keep up the population only in these countries will probably\nrequire 130,000 people from Africa yearly; while interest will lead the\nagricultural capitalist in those countries to bring only effective\nlabourers, and these as a matter of course chiefly males; which will\ntend to perpetuate the evils arising from the inequality of the sexes,\nand thus continue, to a period the most remote, the demand from Africa,\nand consequently a continued expense, equal perhaps to L30 each, for\nevery effective free labourer brought from that continent.\n\nIt is thus obvious that African immigration in any shape, and to any\nnation, is a most serious matter. Unless the subject is considered in\nall its bearings, with reference not only to the present but to future\ntimes, and above all with reference to the steps which France, Portugal,\nor any other European power, may take in Africa, and also with reference\nto the steps which Great Britain may or may not take with regard to that\ngreat continent--most embarrassing results must follow; while, on the\nsteps which may be taken by other nations, the British colonial\ninterests henceforward depend.\n\nThere remains but one certain and efficient way to prevent fatal evils\nand destructive results, and that is the simple, and ready, and rational\ncourse; namely, to oppose free labour _within_ Africa, and the West\nIndies and the East Indies, to African labour, whether free or bond,\nabstracted from her soil and carried by foreign nations to distant parts\nof the globe. In Africa, where the soil, the climate, the productions\nare equal and the same, _one-sixth_ part of the capital in labour would\nobtain labour equally efficient, nay more efficient, because removing\nAfricans from their own country, either as slaves or freemen, even to\nother Tropical climates, must be attended with considerable risk and\nloss.\n\nProduce, supplied cheaper from Africa than it can be obtained from the\nplaces above alluded to, would speedily and completely terminate, not\nonly the foreign African slave trade, but the slave trade and slavery in\nAfrica itself. This is the only safe, secure, and certain way to\naccomplish the great object. It is safe because it is just; it is secure\nbecause it is profitable to all concerned, the giver as well as the\nreceiver of the boon.\n\nIt is neither prudent, patriotic, nor safe, to attempt to confine the\nproductions of colonial commodities to the present British Tropical\npossessions; while the production of these in other countries and places\nwill be increased by the capital and industry of other nations, and even\nby British capital and skill, more especially while capital cannot find\nroom for profitable employment in England. During the war, Great Britain\nexported to the continent of Europe colonial produce to the extent of\nfive millions yearly; and which in every case, but especially in bad\nseasons, when large supplies of continental grain were necessary for the\nfood of her population, always secured a large balance of trade in her\nfavour, and which would again be the case if she adopts the course here\npointed out.\n\nAdopting the course recommended, Great Britain at an early day would be\nable to supply, not only her own extensive markets, both home and\ncolonial, with sugar, coffee, cotton, and dye-stuffs, &c. &c., but, in\nevery other market of the world, she would come in for a large share of\nthe external traffic. Her ships and her seamen would carry, both to her\nown and to foreign markets, the productions raised by British subjects\nand British capital, instead of carrying from foreign port to foreign\nport, as her ships and her seamen do at this moment, the productions\nraised by foreign people, capital, and industry. Great additional wealth\nwould thus be drawn to this country; Tropical produce of every\ndescription would be obtained at a reasonable, yet remunerating rate;\nnow, extensive, and profitable markets would be opened up to our\nmanufactures. They would become and remain prosperous; and all classes\nof the community would be benefited and relieved. Prosperity would\nincrease the power of the people to consume; increased consumption would\nproduce increased revenue; and the government would be relieved from\nunceasing applications for relief, which, under existing circumstances,\nthey have it not in their power to give.\n\nThe point under consideration also, important as it is, becomes still\nmore important when the fact is considered, that if Great Britain does\nnot set about the work to raise that produce in Africa, and command the\ntrade proceeding from it, other nations most assuredly will; when she\nwill lose, not only the advantages which that cultivation and trade\nwould give her, but that trade also which she at present holds with her\nown colonies; for it is plain that the proceedings of foreign countries,\nsuch as have been adverted to, both in Africa, America, and other\nplaces, would cover the British colonies with poverty and ruin.\n\nThe geographical position of Africa is peculiarly favourable for\ncommerce with all other countries, and especially with Great Britain and\nher vast and varied possessions. Africa, or rather Tropical Africa, is\nequally distant from America, and Europe, and the most civilized parts\nof Asia, besides her proximity to Arabia, and, by means of the Red Sea,\nwith Egypt and the Mediterranean. Africa, whether we look to the Cape of\nGood Hope or the Red Sea, is the impregnable halfway house to India--the\nquarter to make good the loss of an Indian empire. She has numerous good\nharbours, many navigable rivers, a most fruitful soil, valuable\nproductions of every kind, known in every other quarter of the Tropical\nworld, besides some peculiarly her own; and a climate and a country,\ntake it all in all, equal, if not superior, to any other Tropical\nquarter of the world in point of salubrity. Her population are indeed\nignorant and debased; but generally speaking, and especially over large\nportions of her surface, they are even more active, and intelligent, and\nindustrious, than the Indians of America, or the people in some parts of\nAsia are, or than the population of Europe was, before the arms of Rome\ncoerced and civilized them. Why, then, is Africa overlooked and\nneglected?\n\nLet us attend to the following facts. They are, both in a political and\ncommercial point of view, of great importance, as showing the progress\nof the opinions and efforts of foreign nations as directed towards\nAfrica.\n\nThe great energies of France are, it is well known, at present strongly\ndirected to the more important points of Tropical Africa, for the\npurpose of extending colonization, cultivation, and commerce therein, in\norder that she may thereby obtain supplies of colonial produce from the\napplication of her own capital, and at the same time, and by this\nmeasure, to raise up a more extensive commercial marine, and\nconsequently a more powerful and commanding navy.\n\nUnder such circumstances, the real question to be solved is--Shall Great\nBritain secure and keep, as she may do, the superiority in Tropical\ncultivation, commerce, and influence? or, Shall foreign countries be\nsuffered to acquire this supremacy, not only as regards themselves\nspecifically, but even to the extent of supplying British markets with\nthe produce of their fields, their labour, and their capital, to the\nabandonment and destruction of her own?\n\nThis is the true state of the case; and the result is a vital question\nas regards the future power and resources of Great Britain.\n\nFrance is already securely placed at the mouth of the Senegal, and at\nGoree, extending her influence eastward and north-eastward from both\nplaces. She has a settlement at Albreda, on the Gambia, a short distance\nabove St Mary's, and which commands that river. She has just formed a\nsettlement close by Cape Palmas, and another at the mouth of the Gaboon,\nand a third by this time near the chief mouth of the Niger, in the Bight\nof Benin. She has fixed herself at Massuah and Buro, on the west shore\nof the Red Sea, commanding the inlets into Abyssinia. She is\nendeavouring to fix her flag at Brava and the mouth of the Jub; and she\nhas just taken permanent possession of the important island of Johanna,\nsituated in the centre of the northern outlet of the Mozambique channel,\nby which she acquires the command of that important channel. Her active\nagents are placed in Southern Abyssinia, and are traversing the borders\nof the Great Bahr-el-Abiad; while the northern shores of Africa will\nspeedily be her own.\n\nSpain has planted herself in the island of Fernando Po, which commands\nall the outlets of the Niger, and the rivers from Cameroons to the\nequator; and from which she can readily obtain at any time any number of\npeople from the adjacent coasts for her West Indian possessions, either\nas slaves or freemen.\n\nAbout six years ago, the government of Portugal appointed a commission\nto enquire into the state and condition of her once fine and still\nimportant colonies in Tropical Africa, and to report upon the best\ncourse to adopt to render them beneficial to the mother country. They\nhave reported and wisely recommended, that Portuguese knowledge and\ncapital should, as far as possible, be again sent to Africa, in order to\ninstruct, enlighten, and cultivate these valuable possessions; and\ninstead of allowing, as heretofore, labour in slaves to be abstracted\nfrom Africa, that native labourers should be retained and employed in\nAfrica itself; and further, that it should to the utmost be aided and\ndirected by European skill, capital, and labour. Thus, fourteen degrees\nof latitude on the east coast, and twenty degrees of latitude on the\nwest coast, will, at an early day, be set free from the slave trade.\nFrom these points the Brazil markets were chiefly supplied with slaves;\nbut Brazils being now separated from Portugal, the latter has and can\nhave no interest in allowing the former to carry on the slave trade from\nher African dominions, but quite the reverse.\n\nThe discovery of the route to India by the Cape of Good Hope changed the\ncourse of eastern commerce. The exertions of Portugal in the manner\nproposed, will now, and most certainly and severely, affect Tropical\nproductions and commerce in every market. In this case, England ought to\nencourage and support Portugal, and, by following her footsteps in other\neligible parts of Africa, share in the advantages which such a state of\nthings, and the cultivation and improvement of Africa, is certain to\nproduce.\n\nThe Iman of Muscat, the sovereign of Zanzibar, has lately put an end to\nthe slave trade in his dominions in Africa, extending northwards from\nthe Portuguese boundary eight degrees of latitude on the eastern coast.\nHis envoy, who was lately in England, was so delighted with the\ntreatment which he received, and with all that he heard and saw here,\nthat he has influenced his master to carry out sincerely the views and\nobjects recommended by England. I have in my possession a most\ninteresting account of the country, extending into the interior of\nAfrica, from the coast opposite Zanzibar all the way to the great lake\nMaravi. The country is intersected with noble rivers, one especially\nwhich issues out of the lake; is generally healthy and well cultivated,\nespecially as the lake is approached. The population are generally of\nArabian descent, industrious, and clothed. A wide field, therefore, for\ncommercial operations is open in this quarter.\n\nThe powerful sovereign of Dahomey has agreed to abolish the slave trade.\nIndependent of his considerable dominions, his fine country was one of\nthe greatest high-roads for the slave caravans from the interior. He has\nreceived, welcomed, and encouraged the Wesleyan missionaries lately sent\nto that quarter. The missionaries from this society, and also one from\nthe Church Missionary Society, have penetrated to Abekuta, a town\ncontaining 40,000 inhabitants, and about 106 miles north-east of Lagos,\nand north of Benin. The country, immediately after quitting the coast,\nbecomes most fertile, pleasant, and healthy, as all that country to the\nnorth of the Formosa is well known to be. The population are eager for\ninstruction; they are comparatively industrious and civilized; they\nmanufacture all their necessary agricultural implements, bits for\nbridles, hoes, &c., from their own iron; they tan their own leather, and\nmanufacture therefrom saddles, bridles, shoes, &c.\n\nThe great sovereign of Ashantee has also received with royal honours,\nand welcomed, the ministers of the gospel, encouraged them, and listened\nto them in the most gratifying manner. The Almamy of Teembo--a state\nwhich commands the fine districts around the Niger in its early course,\nand the roads from populous interior parts on the east to the western\ncoast--has lately evinced the strongest desire to extend cultivation and\ncommerce in lieu of the slave trade, and to have a ready communication\nwith Europeans, and especially with the English. In other portions of\nAfrica important movements are also going on, most gratifying to the\nfriends of humanity and religion.\n\nThe United States of America, as a nation, is about to incorporate with\nher dominions the whole coast of Africa on Cape Palmas to the borders of\nthe Gallinas--a fertile and healthy part of that continent, and wherein\nseveral settlements have of late years been made by the free people of\ncolour from those states. This effected, there will hardly remain a spot\nof any consequence in Tropical Africa worth looking after for Great\nBritain to plant her foot, either for the purpose of obtaining labourers\nfor her West Indian colonies, or to extend agriculture and commerce with\nAfrica. The present British Tropical African possessions have been, and\nare, very badly selected for any one of the purposes alluded to, or for\nextending political power and influence in Africa. Still much more may\nbe made of them than has ever hitherto been done.\n\nBut there is a still higher and more important consideration as regards\nAfrica alone--the eternal salvation of her people. This consideration is\naddressed to the rulers of a Christian nation. The appeal cannot fall on\ndeaf ears. The debt which Great Britain owes to Africa, it is\nundeniable, is incalculably great. The sooner it is put in course of\nliquidation the better. To spread Christianity throughout Africa can\nonly atone for the past. Our duty as Christians, and our interests as\nmen, call on us to undertake the work. It is the cause, the safety, the\nimprovement, and the salvation of a large portion of the human race; it\nis the cause of our country, the cause of our colonies, the cause of\ntruth, the cause of justice, the cause of Christianity, the cause and\nthe pleading of a Christian nation--and a cause like this cannot plead\nin vain.\n\nTo secure these important objects no great or immediate expenditure is\nnecessary; nay, if properly gone about, a saving in the present African\nexpenditure may be effected.\n\n  JAMES MACQUEEN.\n  LONDON, _3d May 1844_.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} This bend is represented in a map constructed in Paris, and said to\nbe from information obtained in a second voyage; but no such bend is\nindicated in the journal of the original voyage by Captain Selim.\n\n{B} Under date Yaush, September 21, 1842, Dr Beke states the curious and\nimportant fact, that the people of Enarea and Kaffa communicate with the\nwest coast of Africa, and that one of the articles of merchandise\nbrought from that coast to these places was salt.\n\n\n\n\nNARRATION OF CERTAIN UNCOMMON THINGS THAT DID FORMERLY HAPPEN TO ME,\nHERBERT WILLIS, B.D.\n\n\nIt had pleased Heaven in the year 1672, when I had finished my studies\nin Magdalen College, Oxford, whereof I was a Demy, and had taken my\ndegree of bachelor of arts in the preceding term, to visit me with so\nsevere an affliction of fever, which many took at first for the\ncommencement of the small-pox, that I was recommended by the physicians,\nwhen the malady had abated, to return to my father's house and recover\nmy strength by diet and exercise. This I was fain to do; and having\nhired a small horse of Master John Nayler in the corn market, to take me\nas far as to the mansion of a gentleman, an ancient friend of my\nfather's, who had a house near unto Reading in Berkshire, and in those\ntroubled times, when no man knew whereunto things might turn from day to\nday, did keep himself much retired. I bade adieu to the university with\na light heart but a weakened habit of body, and turned my horse's head\nto the south. I performed the journey without accident in one day; but\nthe exertion thereof had so exhausted my strength, that Mr Waller,\n(which was the name of my father's friend, and of kin to the famous poet\nEdmund Waller, Esquire, who hath been ever in such favour with our\ngovernors and kings,) perceiving I was nigh discomfited, did press me to\ngo to my chamber without delay. He was otherwise very gracious in his\nreception of me, and professed great amity to me, as being the son of\nhis fast friend and companion; but yet I marked, as it were, a cloud\nthat lay obscure behind his external professions, as if he was uneasy in\nhis mind, and was not altogether pleased with having a stranger within\nhis gates. Howbeit I thanked him very heartily for his hospitality, and\nbetook myself to the chamber that was assigned for my repose. It was a\npretty, small room, whereof I greatly admired the fashion; and the\nfurnishing thereof was extreme gay, for the bed hangings were of bright\ncrimson silk, and on a table was placed a mirror of true Venetian glass.\nAlso, there were chests of mahogany wood, and other luxurious devices,\nwhich my weariness did not hinder me from observing; but finally I was\novercome by my weakness, and I threw myself on the bed without removing\nmy apparel, and sustained as I believe, though I have no certain\nwarranty thereof, an access of deliquium or fainting. When I did recover\nmy senses after this interval of suspended faculty, (whether proceeding\nfrom sleep or the other cause above designated,) I lay for many minutes\nrevolving various circumstances in my mind. I resolved, if by any means\nmy bodily powers were thereunto sufficient, to depart on the morrow, and\nborrow one of Mr Waller's horses to convey me on my way, for I was\nuneasy to be thought an intruder; but when I had settled upon this in my\nmind, a new incident occurred which altered the current of my thoughts,\nfor I perceived a slight noise at the door of my chamber as of one\nstealthily turning the handle, and I lay, without making any motion, to\nwatch whereunto this proceeding would tend. The door was put gently\nopen, and a figure did enter the room, so disguised with fantastical\napparel, that I was much put to it to guess what the issue would be. It\nwas of a woman, tall and majestical, with a red turbaund round her head,\nand over her shoulders a shawl much bedizened with needlework. Her gown\nwas of green cloth, and I was made aware by the sound, as she passed\nalong the floor, that the heels of her shoes were more than commonly\nhigh. With this apparition, of which I took only a very rapid\nobservation through my half-closed eyelids, I was greatly astonished;\nfor she was an exact resemblance to those bold Egyptian queans who were\nat first called Bohemians, but are nothing better than thieves and\nvagabonds, if indeed they be not the chosen people of the prince of\ndarkness himself. She looked carefully all round the room, and after\nopening one of the drawers of mahogany wood, and taking something\ntherefrom which I could not discern, she approached to the side of my\nbed, and looked earnestly upon me as I lay. I could not keep up the\ndelusion any longer, and opened my eyes. She continued gazing\nsteadfastly upon me without alteration of her countenance or uttering\nany word, whether of apology or explanation; and I was so held in by the\nlustre of her large eyes, and the fixed rigidity of her features, that\nfor some time I was unable to give utterance to my thoughts.\n\n\"Woman,\" I said at last, \"what want you with me?\"\n\n\"Your help, if you will be gracious to poor mourners such as we.\"\n\nI interrogated her much and curiously as to what service she required at\nmy hands; for I had a scrupulosity to promise any thing to one whose\nexternal made me think her a disciple of Mahomet, as those gipsies are\nsaid to be. After much hesitating, she could not conceal from me that\nshe was in this disguise for some special and extraordinary purpose;\nnevertheless, she condescended on no particulars of her state or\ncondition; but when I finally promised to satisfy her demand, if it\nmight be done by a Christian gentleman, and a poor candidate for the\nholy ministry, she cautioned me not to be startled by whatever I should\nsee, and beckoned me to follow her--the which I did in no easy frame of\nmind. Opening a little door which I had not seen when I took observation\nof the apartment, she disappeared down two or three steps, where I\npursued the slight sound of her footfall; for there was great darkness,\nso that I could see nothing. We went, as I conjectured, through several\npassages of some length, till finally she paused; and knocked very\ngently three times at a door. The door was speedily opened; and in\nanswer to a question of my guide, whether godly Mr Lees was yet arrived,\na voice answered that he was there, and expecting us with impatience.\nWhen I passed through the door, I found myself in a small chamber, dimly\nlighted by one small lamp, which was placed upon a table by the side of\na bed; and when I looked more fixedly I thought I perceived the figure\nof a person stretched on the bed, but lying so fixed and still, that I\nmarvelled whether it was alive or dead. At the foot of the bed stood a\nvenerable old man, in the dress of a clergyman of our holy church, with\na book open in his hand, and my strange guide led me up to where he was\nstanding, and whispered to him, but so that I could hear her words,\n\"This gentleman hath promised to assist us in this matter.\"\n\nBut hereupon I interposed with a few words to the same revered divine.\n\"Sir,\" I said, \"I would be informed wherefore I am summoned hither, and\nin what my assistance is needful?\"\n\n\"He hath not then been previously informed?\" he said to the Egyptian;\nand receiving some sign of negation from her, he closed the book, and\nleading me apart into a corner of the apartment, discovered the matter\nin a very pious and edifying manner.\n\n\"It is to be godfather in the holy rite of baptism, to one whom it is\nour duty, as Christian men, to rescue from the dangerous condition of\nworse than unregenerate heathenism.\"\n\n\"The child of that Egyptian woman?\" I asked; but he said, \"No. She who\nis now disguised in that attire is no Egyptian, but a true Samaritan,\nwho hath been the means of working much good in the evil times past, and\nis likely to be a useful instrument in the troubled times yet to come.\nIf this dissolute court, and Popish heir-presumptive, do proceed in\ntheir attempts to overthrow our pure Reformed church, depend on it,\nyoung man, that that woman will not be found wanting in the hour of\ntrial. But for the matter in hand, will you be godfather to the person\nnow to be received into the ark?\"\n\nI told him I could not burden my conscience with so great and important\nduties, without some assurance that I should be able to fulfil them.\nWhereto he replied, that such scrupulosities, however praiseworthy in\ncalmer tines, ought now to yield to the paramount consideration of\nsaving a soul alive.\n\nA faint voice, proceeding from the bed, was here heard mournfully asking\nif the ceremony was now to begin, for death was near at hand.\n\nI went up to the bed and saw the face of a pale dying woman, whose\neyes, albeit they encountered mine, had no sense of sight in them, for\nthe shadows of the Great King were already settled upon her countenance.\n\"Begin then,\" I said to the clergyman; and on a motion from him, the\nwoman who had conducted me went out, and shortly returned, leading by\nthe hand a child of two, or haply three years of age, exceeding\nbeautiful to look on, and dressed in the same style of outlandish\napparel as her conductor. I had little time to look attentively at her,\nfor her hand was put into mine, while the other was held by the\nEgyptian, (as I still call her, notwithstanding I knew she was a devout\nwoman,) and another person, whom I guessed to be an attendant on the\nsick lady, stationed herself near; whereupon the clergyman commenced\nfrom our book of common prayer the form of baptism. The lady seemed to\nacquire strength at the sound of his low solemn voice, and half raised\nherself in the bed, and looked anxiously towards where we were; when the\nname was given, which was Lucy Hesseltine, she stretched herself back on\nher pillow with a faint smile. The ceremony was soon over, and the\nEgyptian took the new Christian to the side of the bed, and whispered in\nthe lady's ear, \"Jessica, the child is now one of the Christian flock;\nshe prays your blessing.\" She waited for an answer, during which time\nthe clergyman took me apart, and had again entered into discourse. But\nthe Egyptian came to us. \"Hush!\" she said, \"the ways of God are\ninscrutable; our friend is gone to her account.\" Hereupon she hurried me\nthrough the same passages by which we had come, and bidding me God-speed\nat the hidden door of my chamber, told me to keep what I had seen a\nsecret from all men, yea, if possible, to forget it myself, as there\nmight be danger in having it spread abroad.\n\nTormented with many thoughts, and uneasy at the great risk I ran of\nbringing guilt on my own soul by having made sponsorial promises which I\ncould not execute, I rested but indifferently that night. The next day I\npursued my journey home in the manner I had proposed, and was glad to\navoid the chance of being interrogated by Mr Waller as to what had\noccurred. In a short time my good constitution and home restored me to\nmy former strength, and the memory of that strange incident grew more\nfaint as other things came to pass which made deeper impressions on my\nheart and mind. Among these is not to be forgotten the death of my\nfather, which happened on the 14th of June in the following year,\n_videlicet_ 1673; and the goodness of the lord bishop of Oxford in\ngiving me priests' orders on my college Demyship, whereby I was enabled\nto present myself to this living, and hold it, having at that time\nattained the canonical age. My courtship also and marriage, which befell\nin the year 1674, had great effect in obliterating past transactions. I\nwas married on Thursday, the 24th day of June.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n(Here several pages are omitted as irrelevant, containing family\nincidents for some years.)\n\nHowbeit things did not prosper with us so much as we did expect; for the\npayers of tithes were a stiff-necked generation, as were the Jews of\nold, and withheld their offerings from the priest at the very time when\nProvidence sent a plentiful supply of mouths to which the offerings\nwould have been of use. Charles was our only son, and was now in his\nthird year--the two girls, Henrietta and Sophia, were six and seven--my\neldest girl was nine years past, and I had named her, in commemoration\nof my father's ancient friend, by the prenomen of Waller. It hath been\nremarked by many wise men of old, and also by our present good bishop,\nthat industry and honesty are the two Herculeses that will push the\nheaviest waggon through the mire; and more particularly so, if the\nwaggoner aids also by putting his shoulder to the wheel. And easy was it\nto see, that the wheel of the domestic plaustrum--wherein, after the\nmanner of that ancient Parthians, I included all my family, from the\nfull beauty of my excellent wife to the sun-lighted hair of my prattling\nlittle Charles, (the which reminds me of those beautiful lines which are\ncontained in a translation of the _Iliad_ of Homer by Mr Hobbes,\ndescriptive of the young Astyanax in his mother Andromache's arm--\n\n    \"And like a star upon her bosom lay\n      His beautiful and shining golden head\")--\n\nIt was easy, I say, to see, that with such an additional number of\npassengers, the domestic plaustrum would sink deeper and deeper in the\nmiry ways of the world. And consultations many and long did my excellent\nwife and I hold over the darkening prospect of our future life. At last\nshe bethought her of going to take counsel of her near friend and most\nkind godfather, Mr William Snowton of Wilts, which was a managing man\nfor many of the nobility, and much renowned for probity and skilful\ndiscernment. He was steward on many great estates, and gave plentiful\nsatisfaction to his employers, without neglecting his own interest,\nwhich is a thing that does always go with the other, namely, a care for\nyour master's affairs; for how shall a man pretend to devote his time\nand services to another man's estate, and take no heed for himself? The\nthing is contra the nature of man, and the assertion thereof is fit only\nfor false patriots and other evil men. It was with much weariness of\nheart and anxious tribulation that I parted from that excellent woman,\neven for so short a period of time; but Master George Sprowles of this\nparish having it in mind to travel into the village where the said Mr\nWilliam Snowton kept his abode, I availed myself of his friendly offer\nto conduct my wife thither upon a pillion; and thereupon having sent\nforward her luggage two days before by a heavy waggon which journeyeth\nthrough Sarum, I took leave of the excellent woman, commending her\nheartily unto the care of Providence and Master George, which\n(Providence I mean) will not let a sparrow fall to the ground, much less\nthe mother of a family, which moreover was riding on a strong\nsure-footed horse, which also was bred in our parish, and did sometimes\npasture on the glebe. It was the first time we had been separated since\nour wedding-day. I took little Charles into my room that night, and did\ncarefully survey the other children before I went to rest. They did all\nsleep soundly, and some indeed did wear a smile upon their innocent\nfaces as I looked upon them, and I thought it was, perhaps, the\nreflection of the prayers which their mother, I well knew, was pouring\nout for them at that hour. That was on a Tuesday, and as the distance\nwas nearly sixty miles, I could not hear of her safe arrival till the\nreturn of Master George, which could not be till the following Monday;\nnot being minded, (for he was a devout man, and had imbibed his father's\nlikings in his youth, which was a champion for the late Man,) and would\nrather have done a murder on a Thursday than have travelled on the\nSabbath-day. \"Better break heads,\" he was used to say, \"than break the\nSabbath.\" I did always find him, the father I mean, a sour hand at a\nbargain; and when he was used to drive me hard upon his tithes and\nagistments, I could fancy he took me for one of the Amalekites, or one\nof the Egyptians, whom he thought it a meritorious Christian deed to\nspoil. The Monday came at last, and Master George Sprowles, before he\nrode to his own home, trotted his horse up our church avenue, and\ndelivered into my hands a packet of writing carefully sealed with a\nseal, whereof the device was a true-love knot. Great was my delight and\ngreat my anxiety to read what was written therein, and all that evening\nI pored over the manuscript, on which she had bestowed great pains, and\ncrossed all the t's without missing one. But it is never an easy task to\ndecipher a woman's meaning, particularly when not addicted to\npenmanship; and although my excellent wife had attended a penman's\ninstructions, and had acquired the reputation, in her native place, of\nbeing an accomplished clerk, still, since her marriage, she had applied\nher genius to the making of tarts and other confections, rather than to\nthe parts of scholarship, and it was difficult for me to make out the\nsignificance of her epistle in its whole extent. Howbeit, it was a\nwonderful effort of calligraphy, considering she had only had two days\nwherein to compose and write it, and she had been so little used to this\nmanner of communication, and it consisted of three whole sides of a\nlarge sheet of paper. She said therein that Mr Snowton was a father unto\nher in his affection and urbanity, and that he highly approved the\nmotion for us to make provision of the meat that perishes, seeing it is\nindispensable for young children and also for adults; and that he had\nalready bethought him of a way wherein he might be serviceable to\nus--viz. in procuring for me certain youth of the upper kinds, to be by\nme instructed in the learned tongues, and such other branches as I had\nproficiency in; and, in addition thereto, he said, that peradventure he\nmight obtain a similar charge for my excellent wife in superintending\nthe perfectionment of certain young ladies of his acquaintance in\nsamplers, and millinery, and cookery, and such other of the fine and\nuseful arts as she was known to excel in; and he subjoined thereto, that\nthe charges for each pupil would be so large, being only those of\nconsideration which he recommended unto me, that a few years would be\nsufficient wherein to consolidate portions for all my children. Such,\nwith some misgivings touching my own interpretation, did I make out to\nbe the substance of my excellent wife's letter; and I rejoiced greatly\nthat such an opening was made for me, by the which I might attain to\nsuch eminence of estate that I might place my Charles in the first ranks\nof the law, yea, might live to see him raised to the fulness of temporal\ngrandeur, and sitting, as Lord High Keeper, among the peers and princes\nof the land, with a crown of pure gold upon his head. But there was no\ncrown but a heavenly one, that fadeth not nor groweth dim, that could\nhave added a fresh beauty to the fair head of my Charles. But the\nsweetest part of her missive was contained in the _post scriptum_.\nTherein she said, and in this I could not be wrong, that Mr Snowton had\nundertaken to forward her in his light wheeled cart, by reason of the\nconveniency it would be of to her in the transportation of herself and\nluggage, and also of Miss Alice Snowton, of Mr Snowton's kindred, a\nyoung lady which he had adopted, (being the only child of his only\nbrother, Mr Richard Snowton, deceased,) and advised my wife to accept\nthe care of her as a beginning, and for the charges of the same he would\nbe answerable for fifty golden Caroluses at Ladyday and Michaelmas. A\nhundred Caroluses each year! My heart bounded with joy. Great were my\npreparations for the reception of my new inmate, and busy were we all\nfrom my busy Waller down to Charles. He with much riotousness did\nsuperintend all, and rejoiced greatly at the noise caused by the\nhammering, and taking down and putting up of bed-hangings, and did in no\nslight measure add thereto by strange outbreaks of riotous mirth, such\nas whooping and screaming; causing confusion, at the same time, by\nvarious demonstrations of his enjoyments, such as throwing nails against\nthe windows, beating on the floor with the poker, and occasionally\ninterrupting our operations by tumbling down stairs, and causing us for\na moment to believe him killed outright, or at least maimed for life.\nBut there is a special providence over happy children; and save that he\nfell on one occasion into the bucket of soap and water, wherewith a\ndomestic was scowering the chintz room floor, and suffered some\ninconvenience from the hotness thereof, he escaped in a manner truly\nmiraculous from any accident affecting life or limb. When the time drew\nnear in the which I expected the return of my excellent wife, I took all\nthe children to the upper part of the church field which faces the\nhigh-road, upon which the large stones have recently been laid down, in\nthe manner of a causeway, but which, at that period, was left to the\nnatural hardness, or rather softness, of the soil, and was, in\nconsequence thereof, dangerous to travel on by reason of the ruts and\nhollows; to that portion, I say, of the church field I conveyed all my\nlittle ones, to give the gratulations necessary on such an occasion to\ntheir excellent mother. The spot whereon we were stationed commanded a\nview of the hill which superimpends our village, and we were therefore\ngratified to think that we should have an early view of the expected\ntravellers; and many quarrels and soft reconcilements did take place\nbetween my younger ones, upon the point of who would be the first to\nsee their approach. In the midst of these sweet contentions, whilst I\nwas in the undignified and scarcely clerical act of carrying little\nCharles upon my shoulder, having decorated his head with my\nbroad-brimmed hat, in order to enable him--vain imagination, which\npleased the boy's heart--to see over and beyond the hill, there did\npass, in all her wonted state and dignity, with two outriders in the\nMallerden livery, two palfreniers at her side, and four mounted\nserving-men behind, the ancient Lady Mallerden, which was so famous an\nupholder of our venerated church in the evil days through which it so\nhappily passed; and with no little perturbation of mind, and great\nconfusion of face, did I see the look of astonishment, not to say\ndisdain, with which she regarded my position; more particularly as\nlittle Charles, elevated, as I have said, upon my shoulders, with his\nlegs on each side of my neck, did lift up the professional hat, which\ndid entirely absorb his countenance, with great courtesy, and made a\nmost grave and ceremonious obeisance unto the lofty lady. She pursued\nher path, returning the salutation with a kind of smile, and at the same\neasy ambling pace as was her wont, proceeded up the hill. Just as she\nreached the summit thereof our eyes were gladdened with the sight, so\nlong desired, of the light equipage on two wheels of the kind Mr\nSnowton, containing my excellent wife and her young charge, and also\nvarious boxes of uncommon size, in which were laid great store of bodily\nadornment for both the ladies; as was more fully seen thereafter, on the\nopening of the boxes, by reason of Mr Snowton having privily conveyed\ninto them various changes of apparel for the use of my excellent wife,\nas also for each of the three girls. To Charles he also sent the image\nof an ass, which, by touching a certain string, did open its mouth and\nwave its ears in a manner most curious to behold, wherewith the infant\nwas infinitely delighted, as was I, without enquiring at that time into\nthe exquisite mechanism whereby the extraordinary demonstrations were\nproduced. But in the course of little more than a month he was led, by\nhis enquiring turn of mind, to pry into the mystery; and in the pursuit\nof knowledge--laudable surely in a person of his years, and\ndemonstrative of astonishing sagacity and research--he did take the\nanimal entirely to pieces, and saw the inward parts thereof. The great\nlady, with all the retinue, stopped short as she encountered with my\nexcellent wife at the top of the hill, and did most courteously make\ntender enquiries of her state of health, and also of her plans--whereof\nshe seemed some little instructed--and expressed her satisfaction\ntherein, and did make many sweet speeches to her, and also to the pupil,\nand trusted that she would be good and dutiful, and an earnest and\naffectionate daughter of the Church of England. To all which my\nexcellent wife replied in fitting terms, and Alice Snowton--so was she\nnamed--made promise so to do, God being her helper and I her teacher;\nand thereupon the great lady bended her head with smiles, and rode on.\nWhen they got down to where we stood in the church field, the flush of\nmodesty, and perhaps of pride, at being spoken to in such friendly guise\nby the haughty Lady Mallerden, had not yet left the cheek of my\nexcellent wife, upon which I impressed a kiss of true love, and held up\nlittle Charles as high as I could, to enable him to do likewise, which\nhe did, with a pretty set speech which I had taught him, in gratulation\nof her return. Alice Snowton also did blush, and held out her cheek,\nwhereon I pressed my lip, with fervent prayers for her advance in\nholiness and virtue, and also in useful learning, under my excellent\nwife's instructions. She was a short girl, not much taller than my\nWaller, though she seemed to be three or even four years more advanced\nin age. She was a sweet engaging child of thirteen, and I loved her as\none of my flock from the moment I saw her, as in duty bound. My children\nwere divided between joy at seeing their excellent mother, and wonder at\nthe stranger. But a short period wore off both these sentiments of the\nhuman mind, or rather the outward manifestation of them; and I will\nventure to assert that the quietude of night, and the clearness of the\nstarry heavens, fell on no happier household on that evening than the\nparsonage of Welding. And next day it was the same; and next, and next,\nand a great succession of happy, useful days. Alice was a dear girl, and\nwe loved her as our own; and she loved Charles above all, and was his\nfriend, his nurse, his playfellow. Their gambols were beautiful to\nbehold; and, to complete the good work which was so well begun, good Mr\nSnowton did send to my care, at the same remuneration, two young\ngentlemen of tender years, Master Walter Mannering and Master John\nCarey--the elder of them being eight and the other seven; and, as if\nfortune never tired of raining down on us her golden favours, the great\nLady Mallerden herself did use her interest on my behalf, and obtained\nfor me the charge of a relative of her noble house--the honourable\nMaster Fitzoswald, of illustrious lineage in the north, of the age of\nnine years. But doubtless, as the philosopher has remarked, there is no\nsweet without its bitter, or, as the poet has said, \"no rose without its\nthorn,\" or, better perhaps, as another great poet of antiquity has\nclothed the sentiment--\n\n    ----\"Medio de fonte leporum\n    Surgit amari aliquid;\"\n\nfor it was made an express stipulation of the latter office--namely, the\ncharge of the honourable young gentleman, being the second son of the\nnoble Earl Fitzoswald, in Yorkshire--that the great Lady Mallerden\nshould have joint superintendence of his studies with me, and the\ndirection of his conduct, and also his religious education. And this was\na sore drawback to the pleasure I experienced, for I knew her to be\nproud and haughty beyond most women, or even men; and also that she was\nof so active and inquisitive a turn of mind, that she would endeavour to\nobtain all power and authority unto herself, whereto I determined by no\nmeans to submit. Two hundred golden guineas was the _honorarium_ per\nannum for his education; and my excellent wife, who was addicted, like\nthe most of her sex, to dreams and omens, did very often have a vision\nin the night, of the Right Hon. the Earl Fitzoswald presenting me to a\ngreat office in the church--yea, even a seat among the right reverend\nthe lord bishops of the Upper House of Parliament. Nor were portents and\nauguries wanting, such as this--which made an uncommon impression on my\nexcellent wife's mind--_videlicet_, it chanced that Alice Snowton did\nmake a hat of paper, to be placed on Charles's head when he was more\nthan usually naughty, to be called the fool's-cap out of derision; but\nthis same paper hat, which was of a fantastic shape, being conical and\nhigh, the boy with scissors did dexterously mutilate and nearly destroy,\nand, coming quietly behind me when I was meditating the future with my\nexcellent wife, he placed it on my head; and, to all our eyes, there was\nno mistaking the shape into which, fortuitously, and with no view or\nknowledge of such emblems, he had cut the paper-cap. It was evidently a\nmitre, and nothing else! But this, and various other concurring\nincidents, I pass over, having frequently rebuked my excellent wife for\nthinking more highly of such matters than she ought to think.\n\nThe course pursued in our studies was the following, which I\nparticularly write down, having had great experience in that sort, and\nconsidering it may be useful, if perchance this account should fall into\nthe hands of any who follow the honourable and noble calling of\neducating the rising generation. The _Colloquies_ of Corderius, as also\nthe _Fables_ of AEsopus, with those also of Phaedrus his Roman\ncontinuator....\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n(Many pages are here omitted as irrelevant.)\n\n... And my excellent wife, after much entreaty, consented thereto.\nAccordingly, on the very next Sunday, the great Lady Mallerden attended\nat my house after church, and did closely question, not only the young\ngentlemen on the principles of their faith, but also Alice Snowton, and\ndid, above all, clearly and emphatically point out to them the\niniquities of the great Popish delusion; and exhorted them, whatever\nmight be their future fate or condition, to hold fast by the pure\nReformed church. And so much did my eldest daughter, who was now a great\ntall girl of twelve years of age, win upon the heart of the great lady,\nthat she invited her to come up for several days and reside with her at\nMallerden Court, which was a great honour to my daughter, invitations\nnot being extended to any to enter that noble mansion under the degree\nof nobility. Nor did her beneficence end here; for she did ask Alice\nSnowton, who was now a fine young woman of fifteen or thereby, to be her\nguest at the same time. Alice was not so stout in proportion to her\nyears as my Waller; but there was a certain gracefulness about her when\nshe moved, and a sweet smile when she spoke, which was very gainful on\nthe affections, as Charles could testify; for he loved her, and made no\nsecret thereof, better than any of his sisters, and also, I really and\nunfeignedly believe, better than that excellent woman his mother. And so\ngreat was the impression made on the great lady by my Waller's\ncleverness and excellent manner of conducting herself, that, on her\nreturn at the end of three days, a letter, in the noble lady's own land,\nbore testimony to her satisfaction, and a request, or rather a command,\nwas laid on me, to send her, under charge as she expressed it, of Alice\nSnowton, to the Court for a longer period the following week. And such\nwas the mutual happiness of the noble lady, and of that young girl, (my\nWaller, I mean,) who could now write a beautiful flowing hand, and spell\nwith uncommon accuracy and expedition, that erelong it was an arranged\nthing, that three days in each week were spent by the two children at\nMallerden Court; and a horse at last, on every Wednesday, was in waiting\nto convey them, on a double pillion, to the stately mansion.\n\nI have not alluded to the state of public affairs, of which I was far\nfrom cognizant, saving that the writhings and strugglings which this\ntortured realm did make, shook also the little parsonage of Welding. We\nheard, at remote intervals of time, rumours of dangers and difficulties\nhanging over this church and nation; but were little alarmed thereat,\nputting faith in the bill of exclusion, and the honour of our most\ngracious and religious lord the king. Nor did I anticipate great harm\neven if the Duke of York, in the absence of lawful posterity of his\nbrother, should get upon the throne, trusting in the truth of his royal\nword, and the manifold declarations of favour and amicableness to the\nchurch, which he from time to time put forth. But AEsopus hath it, when\nbulls fight in a marsh the frogs are crushed to death. It was on the\ntenth day of February, in the year of our Lord 1685, I was busy with my\ndear friends, the youths under my charge, in the Campus Martius, (which\nwas a level space of ground in one of the glebe fields by the side of\nthe river, whereon we performed our exercises of running, jumping,\nwrestling, and other athletic exercitations,) when we were startled by\nthe hearing the sound of many horses galloping up the hill above the\nvillage; and looking over the hedge on to the road, we saw a cavalier\ngoing very fast on a fine black horse, which had fire in its eyes and\nnostrils, as the poet says, followed by a goodly train of serving-men,\nall well mounted, and proceeding at the same rate. We went on with our\ngames for an hour or two, when all at once I was peremptorily sent for\nto go to my house without delay; and accordingly I hurried homewards,\nmuch marvelling what the summons could portend. I went into my study,\nand sitting in my arm-chair I saw the great Lady Mallerden; but she was\nso deep in thought, that for some minutes she kept me standing, and\nwaiting her commands. At last she started to herself, and ordered me to\nbe seated, and in her rapid glancing manner began to speak--\n\n\"I have been visited by my son, who rode post haste from London to tell\nme the king was dead. He has been dead four days.\"\n\nI was astonished and much saddened at the news.\n\n\"Sorry--yes--but there is no time for sorrow,\" said the noble lady; \"we\nmust be up and doing. We are betrayed.\"\n\n\"Did your son, the noble Viscount Mallerden, tell you this?\"\n\n\"He is one of the betrayers--know you not what manner of man he\nis?--Then I will tell you.\" And here a strange light flashed from her\neyes, and her lips became compressed till all the colour\ndisappeared--\"He is a viper that stung me once--and would sting me\nagain if I took him to my bosom, and laid it open for his poisonous\ntooth. I tell you the Lord Mallerden is a godless, hopeless, faithless,\nman--bound hand and foot to the footstool of the despotic, cruel\nmonster--the Jesuit who has now his foot upon the English throne. He is\na Papist, fiercer, bitterer, crueller, because he has no belief neither\nin priest nor pope--but he is ambitious, reckless, base, a courtier. He\nprideth himself in his shame, and says he has openly professed. It is to\nplease the hypocritical master he serves. And he boasts that our late\nking--defender of the faith--was shrived on his deathbed by a Popish\nfriar.\"\n\n\"I cannot believe it, my lady.\"\n\n\"You are a good man--a good simple man, Master Willis,\" she said; and\nalthough the words of her designation were above my deserts, seeing that\nsimplicity and goodness are the great ornaments of the Christian\ncharacter, still the tone in which she spoke did not pertake of the\nnature of a compliment, and I bowed, but made no observation in reply.\n\n\"But it needs men of other minds in these awful times which I see\napproaching--men of firmness, men of boldness--yea, who can shed blood\nand shudder not; for great things are at stake.\"\n\n\"I trust not, my lady--albeit the shedding of blood\"----\n\n\"I know, is generally condemned; yet be there texts which make it\nimperative, and I think I foresee that the occasion for giving them\nforth is at hand. All means in their power they will try; yes, though\nJames of York has been but four days a king, he had already made\nperquisition for such as may be useful to him, not in settling the crown\nupon his head, but in carrying off this people and kingdom, a bound\nsacrifice to the blind idol which he worshippeth at Rome. You know not\nthe history of that man; no, nor of my son. Alas! that a mother's lips\nshould utter such words about her own flesh and blood! The one of them I\ntell you is a bigot, a pursuer, a persecutor--the other a sensualist, a\nGallio, a tool. For many years he has never beheld his mother's face; he\nmarried in his youth; he injured, deserted, yea, he killed his wife--not\nwith his own hand or with the dagger, but by the surer weapons of\nhatred, neglect, unkindness. And she died. He has but one child; that\nchild was left in charge of my honoured and loving daughter, the Lady\nPevensey of Notts, and hath been brought up in a Christian manner; but\nnow, he--this man of Belial--wishes to get this infant in his own hands;\nnay, he boldly has made a demand of her custody both on me and Pevensey,\nmy daughter. We will not surrender her; he is now great and powerful.\nThe king will back his efforts with all the weight of the crown; and we\nhave considered, if we could confide the persecuted dove to the hands of\nsome assured friend--some true son of our holy church--some steady,\nfirm-hearted, strong-nerved man, who in such cause would set lord and\nking at defiance\"----\n\nHere she paused, and looked upon me with her eyes dilated, and her\nnostrils panting with some great thought which was within her; and I\navailed myself of the pause to say--\n\n\"Oh, my lady! if you did mean me for such charge, I confess my\ndeficiency for such a lofty office; for I do feel in me no stirrings of\nan ambitious spirit. Sufficient is it for me to take care of the\ninnocent flock committed to my care, in the performance of which charge\nI have the approbation of my own heart, and also, I make bold to hope\nit, of your ladyship, seeing that I have instructed them in the true\nprinciples both of faith and practice; and although there are\nshortcomings in them all, by reason the answers in the Catechism are not\nadapted to the capacities of the younger ones, especially of Charles,\n(who, notwithstanding, has abilities and apprehensions above his years,)\nyet are they all embued with faithful doctrine, from Alice Snowton,\nwhich is the most advanced in stature, to the honourable Master\nFitzoswald, which is somewhat deficient in growth, being only three\ninches taller than my little Charles.\"\n\nThe great lady looked at me while I spoke, and made no answer for long\ntime. At last she said with a sort of smile, which at the same time was\nnot hilarious or jocular in its nature--\n\n\"Perhaps 'tis better as it is. There is a providence in all things, and\nour plans and proposals are all overruled for the best--for which may\nGod be praised! Therefore I will press you no more on the subject of the\nguardianship of my grandchild. But Mallerden will move heaven and earth\nto get her into his power--yes, though he has neglected her so long,\nnever caring to see her since her childhood; yet now, when he sees\n'twill gain him the treasurership of the royal household to sell the\ngreatest heiress and noblest blood in England to the Papists, he will\nmake traffic of his own child, and marry her to some prayer-mumbler to a\nwooden doll. Let us save her, good sir--but I forgot. No--I will save\nher myself. I, that have steered her through so many quicksands, will\nnot let her make shipwreck at last. I will guard her like the apple of\nmy eye, and possess my soul in patience until this tyranny be overpast.\"\nAnd so ended the interview, during which my heart was tossed to and fro\nwith the utmost agitation, and my whole frame so troubled that I various\ntimes lost all mastery of myself, and only saw before me a great black\ngulf of ruin, into which some invisible power was pushing me and all my\nlittle ones. Great, therefore, was my delight, and sweet the relief to\nmy soul, when the great lady left me unconnected with her quarrels. For,\nin the crash of such contending powers, there was no chance of escape\nfor such a weak instrument as I was; and fervent were my hopes, and deep\nmy prayers, that the perils and evils prognosticated by the religious\nfears of my great protectress might be turned aside, and all good\nsubject and sincere churchmen left each under his own vine and his own\nfig-tree, with nobody to make them afraid. But vain are the hopes of\nmen. We read in no long time in all men's looks the fate we were\ncondemned to; for it seemed as if a great cloud, filled with God's\nwrath, was spread out over this realm of England, and the faces of all\nmen grew dark. We heard the name of Jeffreys whispered in corners, and\ntrembled as if it had been a witch's spell to make our blood into water.\nThe great lady kept herself much in solitude in the ancient Court, and\nsaw not even her favourite companion, my daughter Waller, for many\nmonths; but did ever write affectionate letters to her, and sent\npresents of rich fruits, and other delectations in which the young take\npleasure. There was much riding to and fro of couriers, but whither, or\nwhence, she did never tell, and it was not my province to enquire; but\nat last an order came for me to send up my Waller and her friend to the\nmansion. And at evening they were conveyed on horseback as before; but\non this occasion their escort was not Master Wilkinson the under butler,\nbut no less a person than my lady's kinsman, the senior brother of my\nhonourable pupil, the honourable Master Fitzoswald of Yorkshire, a\nstately young cavalier as could be seen, strong and tall, and his style\nand title was the Lord Viscount Lessingholm--being the eldest son and\nheir to that ancient earldom. He was an amiable and pleasant gentleman,\nfull of courtesies and kindness, and particularly pleased with the\nnewfangled fashion of a handsome cap which formed the headpiece of my\nexcellent wife. He said also many handsome things about the brightness\nof my Waller's eyes, and assured my excellent wife that he saw so\npromising an outsprout of talent in my Charles, that he doubted not to\nsee him one of the judges of the realm, if so be he applied his\nintellectuals to the bar. He was also extreme civil to Alice Snowton,\nwhich answered his civilities in like manner; and seldom in so short a\nspace as half an hour has any person made so favourable an impression as\nhe did, particularly on his brother, by reason of his bestowing on him a\nlarge Spanish doubloon, and promising him a delicate coloured maneged\nhorse immediately on his return to Yorkshire. It is a pleasant sight to\nsee (and reflected some credit on my ministration of the moralities in\nthis particular instance) the disinterested love of brethren, one\ntowards another, and I failed not to ascertain that the Lord Lessingholm\nhad been boarded in the house of an exemplary divine, to wit, Mr Savage\nof Corpus Christi College, Oxford--a fact which I think it proper to\nmention to the honour of that eloquent member of our church--inasmuch\nas any man might be proud of having had the training up in the way he\nshould go, of so excellent and praiseworthy a youth.\n\nIt was many days before my young ones came back, (I would be understood\nto include in this Alice Snowton, whom I looked upon with the tenderness\nof a father and the pride of a teacher all in one;) and when they\nreturned to me, I thought I perceived that they were both more sorrowful\nthan of wont. Alice (and my Waller also) looked oppressed with some\nsecret that weight upon their hearts, and I was fearful the great lady\nhad made them partakers of her cares in the matter of her son and her\ngrandchild. Yet did I not think such a thing possible as that either of\nthem should have been taken into her confidence on so high and momentous\na concernment, by reason of my Waller being so young, though thoughtful\nand considerate, and also fuller grown than persons much more advanced\nin life; and Alice Snowton was of so playful and gentle a disposition,\nthat she seemed unfitted for the depository of any secret, unless those\nmore strictly appertaining to her youth and sex, and moreover was a\nstranger to this part of the country, being of a respectable family, as\nI have observed, in Wilts--namely, a brother of Mr Snowton, my kind\npatron and friend. I called them into my study, after my labours were\nover with the other pupils, and I said to them--\n\n\"Dear children, ill would it become me to pry into the secrets of my\nhonoured lady, the Lady Mallerden; yet may there arise occasions wherein\nit is needful for one in my situation, (parent to the one of you, and\n_in loco parentis_ to the other,) to make perquisition into matters of\nweight and importance to your well-being, even at the risk of appearing\ninquisitive into other peoples' affairs. Answer me, therefore, Alice, my\ndear child, has the Lady Mallerden instructed you in any portion of her\nfamily story?\"\n\n\"She has in some degree, Sir,\" said Alice Snowton, \"but not deeply.\"\n\n\"You know of her disagreement on certain weighty points with her son,\nthe Lord Viscount, and how that he is a wicked man, seeking to break\ninto the pasture of the Lord, and tear down the hedges and destroy the\nboundaries thereof; and that in this view he is minded to get his\ndaughter into his power, to use her as an instrument towards his\ntemporal elevation?\"\n\n\"Something of all this we have heard, but not much,\" said Alice Snowton.\n\n\"And furthermore, I must tell you that overtures were made to me to aid\nand assist in the resistance to be offered to this man of sin, and I\ndid, for deep and wholesome reasons, refuse my assent thereto, and in\nthis refusal I meant you, my children, to be included; therefore,\nwhatever propositions may be made to you, to hear, or know, or receive,\nor in any manner aid, in the concealment of the Lord Viscount's\ndaughter--which is at present in charge of an honourable lady in the\nnorth--I charge you, refuse them; they may bring ruin on an unambitious\nand humble household, and in no case can do good. We must fear God ever,\nand honour the king while he is entrusted with the sword of power; and\nfamily arrangements we must leave to the strong hands and able head of\nthe great Lady Mallerden herself. In this caution I know I fulfil the\nintentions of my honoured friend, your esteemed uncle, Mr William\nSnowton, which is concerned with too many noble families to desire to\nget into enmity with any--and therefore be grateful for all the kindness\nyou experience from my honoured lady; but if perchance she brings her\ngrandchild to the Court, and wishes to make you of her intimates, inform\nme thereof; and greatly as it would be to be regretted, I would break\noff the custom of your visits to the noble house, for even that honour\nmay be too dearly purchased by the enmity of powerful and unscrupulous\nmen--if with sceptres in their hands, so much the more to be held in\nawe.\" And I ended with AEsopus his fable of the frogs and bulls. This\ndiscourse (whereof I had prepared the heads in the course of the\nmorning) I delivered with the full force of my elocution, and afterwards\nI dismissed them, leaving to my excellent wife the duty of enlarging on\nthe same topic, and also of giving such advice to Alice, which was now\na full grown young woman, and very fair to look on, in respect of the\nyoung cavaliers she might see at the great house, particularly the noble\nlord, the Lord Lessingholm. Such advice I considered useless in regard\nto my Waller, she being only about fourteen years of age, but in other\nrespects a fair and womanly creature to see; for her waist was nearly\ntwice as large as Alice Snowton's, and her shoulders also, and in weight\nshe would have been greatly an overmatch; and certes, putting aside all\nparental fondness, which we know to be such a beautifier of one's own\nkindred as to make the crow a more lovely animal than the dove, (in the\neyes of the parent crow,) I will confess that in my estimation, and also\nin that of my excellent wife, there was no comparison between the two\nfair maidens, either in respect of fulness of growth or redness of\ncomplexion, the advantage being, in both these respects, on the side of\nthe junior. Some sentiment of this sort I saw at the time must have\npossessed the honourable breast of the Viscount Lessingholm; for\nalthough he made much profession of visiting at the parsonage for the\nsake of seeing his juvenile brother, still there were certain looks and\ntokens whereby I was clearly persuaded that the magnet was of a\ndifferent kind; and whereas it would have been vain and ambitious in me\nto lift my eyes so high, in view of matrimonial proposals, as to nearly\nthe topmost branch in the peerage of England, (the Earls Fitzoswald\nbeing known to have been barons of renown at the period of the Norman\nConquest;) still it would ill have become me to prevent my daughter from\ngathering golden apples if they fell at her feet, because they had grown\non such a lofty bough of the tree; and I will therefore confess, that it\nwas with no little gratification I saw the unfoldings of a pure and\nvirtuous disposition in the honourable young nobleman. And I will\nfurther state, that it seemed as if his presence when he came, (and that\nwas often, nay, sometimes twice in one day,) did make holiday in the\nwhole house; and Charles was by no means backward in his\nfriendship--receiving the fishing-rods presented unto him by the right\nhonourable with so winning an eagerness, and pressing Alice (his\nconstant friend) to go with him and the noble donor with so much zeal to\nthe brook, therein to try the virtues of the gift, that I found it\nimpossible to refuse permission; and therefore did those three often\nconsume valuable hours, (yet also I hope not altogether\nwasted)--_videlicet_, Alice and Charles, and the honourable Viscount--in\nendeavouring to catch the finny tribe, yet seldom with much success. But\nwhatever was the result of their industry--yea, though it was but a\nminnow--it was brought and presented to my Waller by the honourable\nhands of the young man, with so loving an air, that it was easy to\nbehold how gladly he would have consented, if she had been the companion\nof their sports, if by any means Charles could have been persuaded to\nhave exchanged Alice Snowton for her. But the very mention of such an\nidea did throw the child into such wrathful indignation, that the right\nhonourable was fain to bestow on him whole handfuls of sugar-plums, and\npromise that Alice should not be left behind. So fared the time away;\nand at last I began to hope that the fears of the great lady were\nunfounded, and that nothing would occur to trouble her repose. The\nmanner of living had been resumed again, with the difference that, on\nthe days the young maidens did not visit the noble mansion, the\nhonourable viscount was, as it were, domiciled in the parsonage; and I\nperceived that, by this arrangement, the great lady was highly pleased;\nperhaps because the presence of a kinsman, a courageous gentleman, gave\nher some security against the rudenesses she seemed to be afraid of on\nthe part of her own son--a grievous state of human affairs when the\nfifth commandment is not held in honour, and reducing us below the level\nof puppy-dogs and kittens, to whom that commandment, along with the rest\nof the decalogue, is totally unknown. Sundry times I did observe\nsymptoms of alarm; and care did write a sad story of mental suffering on\nthe brow of the great lady, which was a person of the magnanimity of an\nancient matron, and bore up in a manner surprising to behold in one who\nstood, as it were, with one hand upon her coffin, while her other\nstretched backward through the shadow of fourscore years to touch her\ncradle. And ever, from time to time, couriers came to the noble mansion,\nwhile others flew in various directions on swift horses at utmost speed;\nand looking up into that lofty atmosphere, we saw clouds and ominous\nsigns of coming storms, before we could hear the voice of the thunder.\nAnd once a royal messenger (called a pursuivant-at-arms) came down in\nperson, and carried the great lady to London, and there she stayed many\ndays, and was threatened with many things and great punishments, yea,\neven to be tried by the Lord Jeffreys for high treason, in resisting the\nking's order to deliver up her grandchild to its natural guardian--which\nwas its father, the Viscount Mallerden, now created by royal favour\nMarquis of Danfield. But even this last danger she scorned; and after\nmonths of confinement near the royal court, her enemies gave up\npersecuting her for that season, and at last she came back to Mallerden\nCourt. In the meanwhile, we went on in a quiet and comfortable manner in\nthe parsonage--the Viscount Lessingholm frequently with us, (almost as\nif he were a pupil of the house;) and on one or two occasions we had a\nvisit for an evening from my honoured friend, Mr William Snowton of\nWilts. He was pleased to use great commendations, both of my excellent\nwife and me, for the mode in which we attended to the mind and manners\nof his niece, the culinary and other accomplishments, and the rational\neducation wherein he saw her advanced. He never stayed later than\nday-dawn on the following morning, and kept himself reserved, as one\nused to the intimacy of the great, and not liking to make his news\npatent to humble people such as we; and he would on no account open his\nmouth on the quarrels of our great lady and her son, the new Marquis of\nDanfield, but kept the conversation in equable channels of everyday\nmatters, and expounded how my glebe lands might be made to yield a\ngreater store of provision by newer modes of cultivation--the which I\nconsidered, however, a tampering with Providence, which gives to every\nfield its increase, and no more. But by this time my glebe was not the\nonly land on which I could plant my foot and say, Lo, thou art mine! for\nI had so prospered in the five years during which I had held a ladder\nfor my pupils to the tree of knowledge, that much golden fruit had\nfallen to my share, (being kicked down, as it were, by their climbing\namong the branches;) so that I had purchased the fee simple of the\nestate of my friend, Master George Sprowles, who had taken some alarm at\nthe state of public affairs, and gone away over the seas to the\nplantation called, I think, Massachusets, in the great American\ncontinent.\n\nIt was in the beginning of October 1688, that another call was made on\nthe great lady to make her appearance within a month from that time in\nthe city of London, to give a final answer for her contumacy in refusing\nobedience to the King and the lord high Treasurer. I felt in hopes the\nobject of their search (namely, the young maiden his daughter, for it\nwas bruited they rummaged to find her out in all directions) was safe\nwith some foreign friends which the great lady possessed in the republic\nof Holland, where the Prince of Orange was then the chief magistrate;\nbut of this I had no certain assurance. For some days no preparations\nwere made at the noble mansion for so momentous a journey; but at length\nthere were great signs of something being in prospect. First of all, the\nViscount Lessingholm rode up from Yorkshire, whither he had been gone\nthree weeks, attended by near a score of fine dressed serving-men, and\ntook up his abode at Mallerden Court; then came sundry others of the\ngreat lady's kinsfolk, attended also by their servants in stately\nliveries; and we did expect that the proud imperial-minded lady was to\ngo up with such great escort as should impress the king with a just\nestimate of her power and dignity. With this expectation we kept to\nourselves ready to see the noble procession when it should start on its\nway; but far other things were in store for me, and an instrument called\na pea-spitter, wherewith Charles had provided himself for the purpose\nof saluting various of the serving-men as they passed, was rendered\nuseless. It was on the first day of November that the Lord Viscount\nLessingholm, (who had conveyed the young maidens, _videlicet_ Alice\nSnowton and my Waller, to the Court on the previous day,) did ride post\nhaste up to my door, making his large grey horse jump over the gate at\nthe end of the walk, as if he had been Perseus flying on his winged\nsteed to the rescue of Andromede, (as the same is so elegantly described\nin the ancient poet,) and did summon me to go that moment to the noble\nmansion on matter of the highest import. Much marvelling, and greatly\nout of breath, I followed the noble gentleman's motions as rapidly as\nwas beseeming one of my responsible situation, in regard to the\nspiritual ministrations in the parish, while in sight of any of my\nflock; for nothing detracts more from the dignity of the apostolical\ncharacter than rapid motions--such as running, or jumping, or an\nunordered style of apparel, without hatband or cassock. When out of the\nvillage street, I put (as the vulgar phrase expresses it) my best foot\nforemost, and enacted the part of a running serving-man in the track of\nmy noble conductor; and finally I arrived, in such state as may be\nconceived, at the entrance-hall of the noble mansion. In the court-yard\nwere numerous serving-men mounted in silent gravity, and ranged around\nthe wall. Each man was wrapped up in a dark-coloured cloak; and\nunderneath it I saw, depending from each, the clear polished extremity\nof a steel sword-sheath. They did bear their reins tightened, and their\nheels ornamented with spurs, as if ready to spring forth at a word, and\ngreat tribulation came over my soul. Howbeit I mounted the grand\nstaircase, and, following the western corridor, I opened the door of the\ngreen-damask withdrawing-room, and found myself in the middle of a large\nand silent company. There were, perhaps, a dozen persons there\nassembled--motionless in their chairs; and at the further end of the\napartment sat the great lady in whispered conversation with a tall dark\ngentleman of mature years, say fifty or thereabouts, and with a wave of\nher hand, having instructed me to be seated, she pursued her colloquies\nin the same under tones as before. When I had placed myself in a chair,\nand was in somewhat recovering my breath, which much hurrying and the\nsurprising scene I saw had greatly impaired, a hand was laid upon my\nshoulder, and I turned round, and, sitting in the next chair to me, I\nbeheld my honoured friend Mr William Snowton of Wilts.\n\n\"Good Master Willis,\" he said, \"you little expected to see me here, I do\nwell believe; but it was but lately I was summoned.\"\n\n\"And know you wherefore we are here assembled?\" I enquired.\n\n\"Somewhat I know, but not all. The persons here be men of great power,\nsome of them being those by whom I am employed in managing their worldly\naffairs, and shortly we shall hear what is determined on.\"\n\n\"On what subject do they mean to consult us? I shall be ready,\" said I,\n\"to give what advice may be needed, if peradventure it suits with my\nsacred calling.\"\n\n\"I fear they will hardly consult a person of your holy profession,\" said\nMr Snowton with a sober kind of smile. \"It is of life or death we are\nnow to take our choice.\"\n\nA great fear fell upon me, as a great shadow falls upon the earth before\na thunder storm. \"What mean ye?\" I whispered. \"There is no shedding of\nblood.\"\n\n\"There will be _much_ shedding of blood, good Master Willis; yea, the\nrivers in England will run red with the same, unless some higher power\ninterferes to deliver us.\"\n\n\"And wherefore am I summoned to such fearful conference? I am no man of\nblood. I meddle not with lofty matters. I\"----\n\nBut here I was interrupted by Mr Snowton in a low grave tone. \"Then you\nhave not heard that the wicked man of sin, the false Papist, the Marquis\nof Danfield, hath discovered his child?\"\n\n\"No, I have not been informed thereof. And hath he gained possession of\nher?\"\n\n\"No, nor shall not!\" and hereupon he frowned a great frown, and let his\nsword-sheath strike heavily upon the floor. All the company looked\nsharply round; but seeing it was by hazard, they took no notice of what\noccurred.\n\n\"And where, then, is the maiden bestowed?\" I demanded.\n\n\"In this house; you shall see her soon.\"\n\n\"And what have I to do with these matters? They are above my\nconcernment!\" I exclaimed, in great anguish of mind.\n\n\"You have to unite her in the holy bands of wedlock.\"\n\n\"Nay, that is clearly impossible! Where, I pray thee, is the license?\"\n\n\"All that has been cared for by means of a true bishop of our church.\nThere can be no scruple on canonical grounds; and if there be hesitation\nin obeying the Lady Mallerden's orders, (provided she finally takes up\nher mind to deliver the same,) I would not answer for the recusant's\nlife, no, not for an hour.\"\n\n\"But wherefore in such secrecy, with such haste?\" I said, in dreadful\nsort.\n\n\"Because we know that the father slept at Oxford last night with store\nof troops, and that he will be here this night with a royal warrant to\nenforce his right to the bestowal of his child; and he hath already\npromised her to the leader of the malignant Papists.\"\n\n\"And are we here to resist the king's soldiers and the mandate of the\nking?\"\n\n\"Yea, to the death!\" he said, and sank into gloomy thoughts and said no\nmore.\n\nI looked around among the assembly, and recognized no other faces that I\nknew, and in a short space the great lady, having finished her colloquy\nwith her next neighbour, rose up and said--\"My lords, I believe ye be\nall of kin to this house, and the other gentlemen be its friends--a\nfalling house, as represented by a feeble woman of fourscore years and\nfive. Yet in the greatness of the cause, may we securely expect a gift\nof strength even to so frail an instrument as I am. I have consulted\nwith you all, and finally have taken counsel with my kind cousin and\nsweet friend, the Earl of Fitzoswald, now at my side, and he hath agreed\nto what I have proposed. It now, then, but remains to carry our project\ninto effect; and for that purpose I have summoned hither a good man and\nexcellent divine, Master Willis of this neighbourhood, to be efficacious\nin that behalf.\"\n\nI started up, and said in great agitation--\"Oh, my lady!\"--but had not\nproceeded further when I was broken in upon by a voice of thunder--\n\n\"Silence, I say! What, is it for the frailness of a reed like you that\nsuch noble enterprise must perish? Make no remonstrance, sir, but do\nwhat is needed, or\"----\n\nAlthough the great lady did not finish her words, I felt an assurance\nsteal like ice over my soul that my hours were numbered if I hesitated,\nand I bowed low, while Mr William Snowton did privily pull me down into\nmy seat by the hinder parts of my cassock.\n\n\"You--you, Master Willis, of all men, should least oppose this godly\nstep. For the noise thereof will sound unto the ends of the earth, and\nmake the old Antichrist on his seven hills quake and tremble, and shake\nthe pitiful spirit of the apostate of Whitehall. Say I not well, my\nlords?\"\n\n\"You say well,\" ran round the room in a murmur of consent.\n\n\"And you--you, Master Willis,\" she went on, \"least of all, should object\nto keep a lamb within the true fold--yea, a lamb which you did see with\nyour own eyes introduced into the same. Remember you nought of godly\nMaster Waller's in Berkshire, or of the scene you saw in a certain\nchamber, where the baptismal waters were poured forth, and murmured like\na pleasant fountain in the dying ears of a devout Christian woman?\"\n\nI was so held back with awe that I said not a word, and she went on--\n\n\"Oh, if good Master Lees had yet been spared, we should not have asked\nfor the ministry of trembling and unwilling hands like yours! And now,\nmy lords--and you, kind gentlemen, my plan as arranged with good Lord\nFitzoswald is this:--I give my grandchild's hand where her heart has\nlong been bestowed; I then go with her through lanes and byways; under\ngood escort, to the city of Exeter, where erelong we shall cast in our\nlot with certain friends. The bridegroom shall see nought of his bride\ntill happier days arrive, except at this altar; and you shall go\ndirectly to your respective stations, and be ready at the first blowing\nof the horns before which the walls of this Jericho are to fall. In the\nnext chamber I have made preparation for the ceremony, and in a few\nminutes, when I have arranged me for the journey, I will summon you.\"\n\nSomething of this I heard--the sense namely forced its way into my\nbrain; but I was confused and panic-stricken. The whole sad scene\nenacted so many years before, at the house of good Master Waller, on my\nway home from Oxford, came back upon my heart, and I marvelled at the\nmethod whereby the great lady had acquired a knowledge of the secret. I\nwas deep sunk in these cogitations when the door of the inner library\nwas at last thrown open, and such light flashed upon us from the\nmultitude of candles, which were illuminated in all parts of the\nchamber, that my eyes were for some time dazzled. When I came to myself\nI looked, and at a table under the eastern window, on which was spread\nout a golden-clasped prayer-book, opened at the form of solemnization of\nmatrimony, I saw, along with two young men of about his own age, (all\ngirt with swords, and booted and spurred,) the right honourable the\nViscount Lessingholm, which I at once concluded was acting as\nbridegroom's man to one of the other youths. The company, which had been\nassembled in the withdrawing-room, placed themselves gravely, as if some\nsolemn matter was in hand, at the side of the table; and I took my place\nby a motion from the Earl Fitzoswald, and laid my hand upon the\nprayer-book, as ready to begin. The door at the other end of the room,\nwhich leadeth to the outer staircase, was opened, and there came\nnoiselessly in a tall woman, dressed in the same fantastical apparel,\nlike the apparel of the Bohemians or gipsies, which I remembered so well\non the fatal night of the christening; and, when she cast her eyes on\nme, I could not have thought an hour had passed since that time, and I\nrecognised in her, with awe and wonderment, the features of the great\nlady, the Lady Mallerden herself. In each hand she led a young person,\nin her left my daughter Waller, and I will not deny that at the sight my\nheart leapt up with strange but not unpleasing emotion, as, remembering\nthe habitudes of the noble Viscount Lessingholm, I thought there was a\npossibility of a double wedding; and in her other hand, dressed as for a\njourney, with close fitting riding-coat, and a round hat with sable\nfeathers upon her head, she conducted Alice Snowton, the which looked\nuncommon lovely, though by no means so healthy or stout-looking as her\nother companion--_videlicet_, my Waller. They walked up to the place\nwhereat we stood, and the Lord Viscount springing forward, did give his\nhand to Alice Snowton, and did not let it go for some time; but looked\nupon her with such soft endearing looks that she held down her head, and\na red blush appeared upon her cheek, as if thereupon there had been\nreflected the shadow of a rose. For it was not of the deep tinge which\nformed the ornament of the complexion of my Waller.\n\n\"This is no time for useless dalliance,\" said the great lady; \"let us to\nwork. By no other means can we root out for ever the hopes of our\nenemies.\"\n\n\"Where then, madam,\" I said, \"is the bride?--and who, I pray you, is the\nbridegroom?\"\n\n\"The bridegroom is the Viscount Lessingholm. This maiden is the bride.\"\n\n\"But Alice Snowton, my lady. I did think it was your honourable\ngrandchild who was to be united to this noble gentleman.\"\n\n\"And so it is--and so it is! She is Alice Snowton no longer. Our good\nfriend, Master Snowton, the steward on my daughter Pevensey's Wiltshire\nmanor, was good enough to adopt her as his niece; and for her better\nconcealment we placed her in the charge of a person whose character for\nmeekness and simplicity was too notorious to raise suspicion of his\nbeing concerned in such a plot. Even to herself, till lately, her\nparentage was unknown, as Master Snowton kept well the secret.\"\n\n\"And one other question,\" I said; \"the child to whom I became bound as\ngodfather?\"\n\n\"'Tis the same. This is the poor Lucy Hesseltine, whose orphanship you\nwitnessed in that lone and yet comfortable death.\"\n\nThe lady Lucy Hesseltine, or rather Alice Snowton, for by that name I\nloved her best, did throw her arms about my neck, and kissed my cheek,\nand said I had been a kind godfather to her, yea, had been a father to\nher, and my excellent wife a mother. At this my heart was much moved,\nand I saw tears come to the eyes of several of the bystanders, but no\ntear came to the eyes of the great lady herself.\n\n\"Let this be enough,\" she said. \"Let us finish what we have yet to do.\"\n\nAnd thereupon, all being ready and in their due places, I began; but\nwhen I came to the question--\"Lucy Hesseltine, wilt thou have this man\nto be thy lawful husband?\"--a sudden noise in the court-yard under the\nwindow made me pause; but the great lady commanded me with a frown to go\non, and I concluded the question, and received in reply a sweet but\naudible \"yes.\" But the noise was again repeated, and the assistants\nsprang to their feet, for it was the sound of the sharp shooting off of\npistols.\n\n\"Stir not for your lives till the ceremony is over!\" cried the great\nlady; and I hurried with trembling lips over the remainder of the\nservice. A loud voice in the yard was heard amid the trampling of much\nhorse. \"In the king's name, surrender!\" the voice said. \"We have a\nwarrant here, and soldiers!\"\n\n\"For as much as Frederick and Lucy Hesseltine,\" (I said as calmly as I\ncould, though with my heart quaking within me) \"have consented together\nin holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this\ncompany, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other,\nand have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by\njoining of hands--I pronounce that they be man and wife together!\"\n\n\"Now then, my lords and gentlemen,\" cried the great lady, springing to\nher feet, \"to the defence! We are witnesses of this marriage, and\nclashing swords must play the wedding peel. If need be, fear not in such\nquarrel to do your best; yea, to the shedding of blood! Though the blood\nwere my son's, it were well shed in such a holy cause. Now then, Lucy,\ncome! Guard the front entrance but an hour, and we shall be beyond\npursuit.\"\n\nAnd so saying she glided rapidly, with the nearly fainting bride,\ntowards the hidden stairs, while Viscount Lessingholm rushed rapidly\nwith drawn sword down the grand flight, and sprang on his grey horse. In\nthe confusion my Waller had disappeared, and in great agonies of fear I\nslipped into the court-yard. Oh, what a sight met my eyes! There were\nseveral men lying dead, which had been shot or otherwise killed, and\ntheir horses were galloping hither and thither with loose reins and\nstirrups flapping; other men were groaning, and writhing in great pains,\ntearing the ground with bleeding hands, and dragging themselves, if such\nwere possible, away from the _melee_. Meanwhile, horsemen drawn up on\neither side were doing battle with sword and pistol; and the trampling\nand noise of the shouting, the groans and deep execrations, all\nresounding at once in that atmosphere of smoke and approaching night,\nwere fearful to listen to, and I bethought me of some way of escape. I\nslipped within the piazza of the servants' court, and made my way\ntowards the gate; but here the battle raged the fiercest, the noble\nViscount Lessingholm being determined to keep it closed, and the furious\nMarquis resolute to force it open, whereby an accession of men might\ncome to him which were shut out on the other side--the warder of the\ndoor having only admitted the marquis himself, and about fifty of the\nking's dragoons. The retainers which I had seen on my entrance amounted\nto seventy or more; and seeing they had most of them been soldiers, yea,\nsome which had grizzled locks, having been among the shouters at Dunbar,\nand on many fields besides, under the cruel eye of the ferocious Oliver\nhimself, they did cry \"Ha, ha! at the spear of the rider, and smelt the\nbattle afar off.\" The Marquis of Danfield did spur his black war-horse,\nwith his sword poised high in air towards the noble Viscount of\nLessingholm, and with fierce cries the noble viscount raised also his\nsword, and was in act to strike the undefended head of his assailant.\n\"Stop, Frederick!\" cried a voice, which proceeded from the Earl\nFitzoswald; \"it is Danfield himself!\" whereupon the young gentleman did\nward off the blow aimed at him by the marquis, and passed on. All this I\nsaw ere I gave up hopes of getting out by the gate; but seeing this was\nhopeless, I pursued my way back again, with intent to get out by one of\nthe postern windows, and hurry homeward across the fields; and having\nopened a window near unto the buttery, I hung by my hands, and then\nshutting my eyes and commending my soul to Heaven, I let go, and dropt\nsafely down upon the greensward. But ere I could recover myself\nsufficiently, I was set upon as if I had been an armed enemy, by a large\nnumber of mounted men, which were of the company of the marquis, whereby\nI saw that the house was surrounded, and feared the great lady and Alice\n(I would say the Viscountess Lessingholm) were intercepted in their\nretreat. Howbeit, I gave myself up prisoner, by reason of various blows\nwith the flats of sabres, and sundry monitions to surrender or die. I\nwas led in great fear to the front of the court, and brought before a\nproud, fierce-browed commander, which interrogated me \"of all that was\ngoing on, and whether the Lady Lucy Mallerden was in the Court?\" Whereto\nI answered, that I was so overcome with terror that I knew little of\nwhat I had seen, and, with regard to the noble lady, I was persuaded she\nwas not within the walls. \"If you answer me,\" he said, \"truly, and tell\nme what road she has taken, I will send you away in safety, and secure\nyou his majesty's pardon for any thing you may have done against his\ncrown and dignity; but if you refuse, I will assuredly hang you on the\ncourt-yard gate the moment we gain possession thereof. Now, say which\nway went they?\" I was sore put to it, for it was like betraying innocent\nblood to tell these savage men the course my godchild pursued in her\nescape; and yet to tell an untruth was repugnant to my nature, and I\nsaid to the captain, \"It is a hard matter for me to point out where my\nfriends are fleeing unto.\"\n\n\"Then you'll be hung as high as Haman at daybreak; so you can take your\nchoice,\" said he.\n\n\"If I direct you unto the place whereunto she is gone,\" I said, \"it will\nbe a hard matter to find her.\"\n\n\"That's our business, not yours. Tell us where it is.\"\n\n\"For, suppose she were in hiding in a city, a large busy place like\nBristol, and waited for a conveyance to a foreign land\"----\n\n\"In Bristol! Oho, say no more! Ensign Morley, take ten of the best\nmounted of the troop and scour the northern roads towards Bristol. You\nwill overtake them ere they are far advanced.\"\n\n\"I pray you, captain,\" I said, \"to observe--I have not told you she is\ngone towards Bristol.\"\n\n\"I know you haven't,\" he said smiling, \"I will bear witness you have\nkept her secret well; but here we are about to enter the Court, for the\nfiring is finished. The rebels will be on gibbets within twenty-four\nhours, every one.\"\n\nBut there was no sign of the gate being opened. Contrariwise there did\nappear, in the dimness of the evening-sky, certain dark caps above the\noutside wall, which I did recognize as being worn by the serving-men of\nthe great lady's friends; and while we were yet talking a flight of\nbullets passed close over our heads, and three or four of the troopers\nfell off dead men, leaving their saddles empty and their horses\nmasterless.\n\n\"Draw close my men,\" cried the captain, \"right wheel;\" and setting his\nmen an example, he did gallop with what speed he might from the\npropinquity of the wall. As for myself, I was in some sort relieved by\nthe knowledge that the noble mansion still continued in possession of\nthe Viscount Lessingholm; and comforting myself with the assurance that\nno evil could befall my daughter Waller while under his protection, I\ndid contrive to seize by the bridle one of the dragoons' horses, (a\nstout black horse, which, being never claimed, did do my farming work\nfor fifteen years,) and, climbing up into the saddle, betook me home to\ninform my excellent wife of all these dreadful events. All next day, and\nall the next--yea, for three whole days--I stayed in my quiet home,\nreceiving information quietly by means of a note brought to me by my\nservants, that the mansion still held out, that Waller was quite safe,\nand that, provided no artillery was brought to bear against them, that\nthey could hold out _till the time came_. What was the meaning of the\nlatter phraseology, I did not know; but considering it desirable at that\nperiod to cut down certain trees on my recently purchased estate, I\nproceeded with Thomas Hodge the carpenter, and various other artificers\nof my parishioners, (all being friends and dependents of the great\nlady,) and with saws and other instruments did level the whole row of\nvery large oaks and elm trees which bordered the only high-road from\nOxford; and, by some strange accident, all the trees did fall exactly\nacross the same, and made it utterly impossible to move thereupon with\ncart or waggon; so that it was much to be suspected that the guns, which\nwe heard were ordered to come up from Wallingford, could by no means get\nover the obstruction. It is also to be observed that Master George\nRailsworth, the mason, who had contracted to repair the strong bridge\nover our stream, did take this opportunity of taking down two of the\narches of the same, and could find no sufficient assistance to enable\nhim to restore them, which made the road impassable for horse or man. On\nthe following day, namely, the fifth day of November, we heard that all\nthe king's soldiers were suddenly ordered from all parts up to London,\nand that the Marquis of Danfield had been left to his imprisonment in\nMallerden Court. Whereupon I bethought me it would be safe to venture up\nonce more, and bring my daughter Waller to the securer custody of my\nexcellent wife. Next morning, at early dawn, I accordingly did go up,\nand was admitted, after a short parley, by the gate-keeper, which had a\nhelmet on his head and a sword in his hand. Speedily I was in the arms\nof my daughter Waller, who looked as happy as if none of these scenes\nhad been transacted before her eyes; and moreover did refuse, in very\npositive terms, to leave the Court till her dear friend Alice--I would\nsay the Lady Lucy--returned. I reasoned with her, and reprimanded her,\nand showed her in what a fearful state of danger we all were, by reason\nof the rebellion we had been guilty of against his majesty the king.\nWhereupon the child did only laugh, and told me, \"Here she would abide\nuntil the time came.\" And with this enigmatical expression I was fain to\nbe content; for she would vouchsafe me no other. And, corroborative of\nall which, she said, she relied on the assurances made unto her to that\neffect by Sir Walter Ouseley, one of the young gentlemen which had acted\nas bridegroom's man to the noble Viscount Lessingholm, and was now in\nthe Court as his lieutenant in the defence of the same. A goodly young\ngentleman he was, and fair to look upon, and extraordinary kind to me,\nsoothing my fears, and encouraging me to hope for better things than\nthose my terrors made me anticipate. I enquired of the behavings of the\nMarquis of Danfield, and learned to my surprise that it was expected\nthat before this day was over, if he did receive a courier, as was\nthought, from the Lord Churchill, one of the king's favourite officers,\nhe would withdraw all his objections to the marriage, and rather be an\nencourager and advocate of the same. In these discourses the time passed\naway, and about three of the clock, after we had dined in the great\nhall, we were looking out from the battlements and saw a dust on the\nwestern road.\n\n\"It is Churchill's letter,\" said the noble Viscount Lessingholm, \"and he\nhas kept his promise for once.\"\n\n\"There is too much dust for only one courier's heels--there be twenty in\ncompany at least,\" replied Sir Walter Ouseley, which had the arm of my\nWaller closely locked in his.\n\n\"There may be a surprise intended,\" cried the noble viscount. \"Hoist the\nflag, man the walls, treble the watchers, and sound for the men into the\nyard.\"\n\nWe of the peaceful professions--_videlicet_, my daughter Waller and\nI--did descend from the bartizan, and betook ourselves to the great\nwithdrawing room, to wait for the result of the approach. We had not\nwaited long when the door opened, and no other than the great lady\nherself, and my loved and lovely godchild, the Viscountess Lessingholm,\ncame into the apartment. The great lady was now appareled as became her\nrank, having discarded those Bohemian habiliments which were her\ndisguise in times of danger. Oh! it was a great sight to behold, the\nmeeting between the Lady Lucy and my daughter Waller; but when hurried\nsteps sounded on the stairs, and the door opened, and the noble viscount\nrushed into her arms, it was impossible to keep from tears. My feeble\npen can venture on no such lofty flights of description, and therefore I\nwill not attempt it. Meanwhile, in the outer court, great shouting was\nheard. Sir Walter Ouseley came up to us, and announced that the Marquis\nof Danfield \"presented his respects to his noble mother, and\ncongratulated her on the glorious news.\"\n\n\"I knew how it would be,\" she said, \"with base natures such as his and\nChurchill's. We accept their assistance, but despise the instrument. He\nwill now be fierce against his benefactor, (who, though a bad king, was\ntender to his friends,) and bitterer against his faith than if he had\nnever been either a courtier or a bigot. I receive his congratulations,\nSir Walter Ouseley, but I decline an interview for some time to come.\"\n\n\"He desired me also, my lady,\" said Sir Walter, \"to convey his blessing\nto the bride, and his tender love to his new son, the Viscount\nLessingholm.\"\n\n\"Well, let them not reject it. The blessing even of such a father has\nits value. But we must now make preparation, for the celebration of the\nhappy nuptials, in a style fitting the rank of the parties. The prince\nis pleased with what we have done\"----\n\nThe young man, Sir Walter Ouseley, who had been whispering in my ear,\nhere broke in on the great lady's speech.\n\n\"If it would please you, madam, at the same time, to permit two others\nto be happy, I have obtained Master Willis's consent thereto, and also\nthe consent of this fair maiden.\"\n\nThe viscountess took Waller in her arms, and kissed her cheek, and the\ngreat lady smiled.\n\n\"I knew not, Sir Walter Ouseley, that you were so perfect a soldier as\nto sustain an attack and lay siege at the same time; but since in both\nyou have been successful, I give you my hearty good wishes. And so, dear\nfriends and true supporters, let us be thankful for the great\ndeliverance wrought for this land and nation, as well as for ourselves.\nOur defender, the noble William, landed three days ago at Torbay, and is\nnow in Hampton Court. The king has taken flight, never to be restored.\nTherefore, God save the Prince of Orange and the Lady Mary, the props\nand ornaments of a true Protestant throne!\"\n\n\n\n\nBEAU BRUMMELL.{A}\n\n\nAll things change; ours is the age of masses and classes, the last was\nthe age of individuals. Half a dozen remarkable men then represented the\nLondon world, in politics, poetry, bon-mots, dining out, and gaming.\nPitt and Fox, the Dukes of Queensberry and Norfolk, Sheridan and General\nScott, were the substitutes for mankind in the great metropolis. George\nBrummell was the last of the beaus. The flame of beauism was expiring;\nbut it flamed in its socket brighter than ever, and Beau Brummell made a\nmore conspicuous figure in the supreme _bon-ton_ of elegant absurdity,\nthan any or all his predecessors. The only permanent beau on earth is\nthe American savage. The Indians, who have been lately exhibiting their\nback-wood deformities in our island at shilling a-head, were prodigious\ndressers; Greek taste might probably have dissented from their\nprinciples of costume, but there could be no doubt of the study of their\ndecoration. Their _coiffeur_ might not altogether supersede either the\nTitus or the Brutus in the eye of a Parisian, but it had evidently been\ntwisted on system; and if their drapery in general might startle Baron\nStulz, it evidently cost as dexterous cutting out, and as ambitious\ntailoring, as the most _recherche_ suit that ever turned a \"middling\nman\" into a figure for Bond Street.\n\nBut the charm which is the very soul of European fashion, is scorned by\nthe Indian. Change--the \"Cynthia of the minute,\" the morning thought and\nmidnight dream of the dilettanti in human drapery--has no captivation\nfor the red man. He may like variety in his scalps or his squaws; but\nnot a feather, not a stripe of yellow on one cheek, or of green on\nanother, exhibits a sign of the common mutabilities of man. He struts in\nthe plumes which his fathers wore, is attired in the same nether\ngarments, exhibits the same head-gear, and decorates his physiognomy\nwith the sane proportion of white-wash, red-lead, bear's-grease, and\nPrussian blue.\n\nBeauism, in England, scarcely goes farther back than the days of Charles\nII. It may be said that Elizabeth had her beaux; but the true beau being\nan existence of which no man living can discover the use, and which is,\nin fact, wholly useless except to his tailor and the caricaturists, the\nchevaliers of the time of Queen Bess are not entitled to the honour of\nthe name. Raleigh, no doubt, was a good dresser; but then he could write\nand fight, and was good for something. Leicester is recorded as a superb\ndresser; but then he dabbled in statesmanship, war, and love-making, and\nof course had not much time on his hands. The Sedleys, Rochesters, and\ntheir compeers, had too much actual occupation, good and bad, to be\nfairly ranked among those gossamery ornaments of mankind; they were idle\nenough in their hearts for the purpose, but their lives were _not_\nshadows, their sole object was _not_ self. They were more nice about\nswords than snuff-boxes and, if they were spendthrifts, their profusion\nwas not limited to a diamond ring or a Perigord pie. They loved, hated,\nread, wrote, frolicked and fought; they could frown as well as smile,\nand see the eccentricity of their own follies as well as enjoy them. But\nthe true beau is a _beau-ideal_, an abstraction substantialized only by\nthe scissors, a concentrated essence of frivolity, infinitely sensitive\nto his own indulgence, chill as the poles to the indulgence of all\nothers; prodigal to his own appetites, never suffering a shilling to\nescape for the behoof of others; magnanimously mean, ridiculously wise,\nand contemptibly clever; selfishness is the secret, the spring, and the\nprinciple of, _par excellence_, the beau.\n\nIn the brief introduction prefixed to the \"Life,\" some of those\nindividuals who approached closest to perfection of old times are\nmentioned. One of those was Sir George Hewitt, on whom Etheridge, the\ncomic writer, sketched his Sir Fopling Flutter. This beau found a place\nin poetry as well as in prose,\n\n    \"Had it not better been than thus to roam,\n    To stay, and tie the cravat-string at home?\n    To strut, look big, strike pantaloon, and swear\n    With Hewitt--D----me, There's no action here?\"\n\nWilson followed. He was a personage who first established the fashion of\nliving by one's wits. Returning from the army in Flanders with forty\nshillings in his pocket, he suddenly started into high life in the most\ndashing style, eclipsed every body by his equipage, stud, table, and\ndress. As he was not known at the gaming-table, conjecture was busy on\nthe subject of his finances; and he was charitably supposed to have\ncommenced his career by robbing a Dutch mail of a package of diamonds.\nStill he glittered, until involved in a duel with Mississippi Law; the\nlatter financier, probably jealous of so eminent a rival, ran a rapier\nthrough his body.\n\nThe next on the list is Beau Fielding. He was intended for the bar, but\nintending himself for nothing, his pursuit was fashion. He set up a\nshowy equipage, went to court, and led the life of \"a man about town.\"\nHe was remarkably handsome, attracted the notice of Charles II., and\nreigned as the monarch of beauism. He was rapidly ruined, but repaired\nhis fortune by marrying an heiress. She died; and the beau was duped by\nan Englishwoman, whom he married under the idea that she was a Madame\nDelaune, a widow of great wealth. Finding out the deception, he cast her\noff, and married the Duchess of Cleveland, though in her sixty-first\nyear. For this marriage he was prosecuted, and found guilty of bigamy.\nHe then became reconciled to his former wife, and died, in 1712, at the\nage of sixty-one. He was the Orlando of the _Tatler_.\n\nBeau Edgeworth lives only in the record of Steele, in the 246th number\nof the _Tatler_, as a \"very handsome youth who frequented the\ncoffeehouses about Charing-Cross, and wore a very pretty ribbon with a\ncross of jewels on his breast.\" Beau Nash completes the list of the\nancient heroes, dying in 1761, at the age of eighty-eight--a man of\nsingular success in his frivolous style; made for a master of the\nceremonies, the model of all sovereigns of water-drinking places; absurd\nand ingenious, silly and shrewd, avaricious and extravagant. He\n_created_ Bath; he taught decency to \"bucks,\" civility to card-players,\ncare to prodigals, and caution to Irishmen! Bath has never seen his like\nagain. In English high life, birth is every thing or nothing. Men of the\nlowest extraction generally start up, and range the streets arm-in-arm\nwith the highest. Middle life alone is prohibited to make its approach;\nthe line of demarcation there is like the gulf of Curtius, not to be\nfilled up, and is growing wider and wider every day. The line of George\nBrummell is like that of the Gothic kings--without a pedigree; like that\nof the Indian rajahs--is lost in the clouds of antiquity; and like that\nof Romulus--puzzles the sagacious with rumours of original irregularity\nof descent. But the most probable existing conjecture is, that his\ngrandfather was a confectioner in Bury Street, St James's. We care not a\nstraw about the matter, though the biographer is evidently uneasy on the\nsubject, doubts the trade, and seems to think that he has thrown a shade\nof suspicion, a sort of exculpatory veil over this fatal rumour, by\nproving that this grandfather and his wife were both buried, as is shown\nby a stone, still to be seen by the curious, in St James's church-yard.\nWe were not before aware that Christian burial was forbidden to\nconfectioners. The biographer further adds the convincing evidence of\ngentility, that this grandfather was buried within a few feet of the\nwell-known ribald, Tom Durfey. Scepticism must now hang down its head,\nand fly the field.\n\nWe come to a less misty and remote period. In the house of this\nancestor, who (_proh dedecus!_) let lodgings, lived Charles Jenkinson,\nthen holding some nondescript office under government. We still want a\nhistory of that singularly dexterous, shy, silent, and successful man;\nwho, like Jupiter in Homer, did more by a nod than others by a\nharangue--made more as a scene-shifter than any actor on the stage of\nWestminster--continually crept on, while whole generations of highfliers\ndropped and died; and at length, like a worm at the bottom of a pool,\nstarted up to the surface, put on wings, and fluttered in the sunshine,\nEarl of Liverpool! The loss of such a biography is a positive injury to\nall students of the art of rising. Jenkinson was struck by the neatness\nof the autograph in which \"Apartments to be Let\" was displayed on the\ndoor; and probably, conscious that the \"art of letting\" was the true\ntest of talents, made the young writer his amanuensis, and finally\nobtained for him a clerkship in the treasury. He was next in connexion\nwith Lord North for the twelve years of that witty and blundering\nnobleman's unhappy administration, and enjoyed no less than _three\noffices_, by which he netted L.2500 a-year. He was abused a good deal by\nthe party-ink of his time; but the salary enabled him to bear spattering\nto any amount, and probably only increased Lord North's sympathy for his\nfellow-sufferer, until that noble lord was suffocated in the public\nmire.\n\nBut after the crush of the minister, the man felt that his day was done;\nand he retired to \"domestic virtue\" as it is termed, took a good house\nin the country, enjoyed himself, and in 1794 died, leaving two sons and\na daughter, and L.65,000 among them.\n\nGeorge Bryan Brummell, the second son, was born in June 1778. The\nbiographer observes characteristically, that the beau avoided the topic\nof his genealogical tree with a sacred mystery. It appears that he\navoided with equal caution all mention of the startling fact, that one\nof his Christian names was _Bryan_. It never escaped his lips; it never\nslipped into his signature; it was never suffered to \"come between the\nwind and his nobility.\" If it had by any unhappy chance transpired, he\nmust have fainted on the spot, have fled from society, and hid his\ndiscomfiture in\n\n    \"Deserts where no men abide.\"\n\nBrummell was a dandy by instinct, a good dresser by the force of\noriginal genius; a first-rate tyer of cravats on the _in_voluntary\nprinciple. When a boy at Eton, in 1790, he acquired his first\ndistinction not by \"longs and shorts,\" but by the singular nicety of his\nstock with a gold buckle, the smart cut of his coat, and his finished\nstudy of manners. Others might see glory only through hexameters and\npentameters; renown might await others only through boating or cricket;\nwith him the colour of his coat and the cut of his waistcoat were the\nmaterials of fame. Fellows and provosts of Eton might seem to others the\n\"magnificoes\" of mankind--the colossal figures which overtopped the age\nby their elevation, or eclipsed it by their splendour--the \"dii majorum\ngentium,\" who sat on the pinnacle of the modern Olympus; but Brummell\nsaw nothing great but his tailor--nothing worthy of respect among the\nhuman arts but the art of cutting out a coat--and nothing fit to ensure\nhuman fame with posterity but the power to create and to bequeath a new\nfashion.\n\nBut the name of dandy was of later date; the age had not attained\nsufficient elegance for so polished a title; it was still buck or\nmacaroni; the latter having been the legacy of the semi-barbarian age\nwhich preceded the eighteenth century. Brummell was called Buck Brummell\nwhen an urchin at Eton--a preliminary evidence of the honours which\nawaited him in a generation fitter to reward his skill and acknowledge\nhis superiority. Dandy was a thing yet to come, but which, in his\ninstance, was sure to come.\n\n    \"The force of title could no further go--\n    The 'dandy was the heirloom of the beau.'\"\n\nYet even in boyhood the sly and subtle style, the Brummellism of his\nafter years, began to exhibit itself. A party of the boys having\nquarreled with the boatmen of the Thames, had fallen on one who had\nrendered himself obnoxious, and were about to throw him into the river.\nBrummell, who never took part in those affrays, but happened to pass by\nat the time, said, \"My good fellows, don't throw him into the river;\nfor, as the man is in a high state of perspiration, it amounts to a\ncertainty that he will catch cold.\" The boys burst into laughter, and\nlet their enemy run for his life.\n\nAt Eton, however, he was a general favourite for his pleasantry, the\ngentleness of his manner, and the smartness of his repartee. He had\nattained tolerable scholarship, was in the fifth form in 1793, the year\nin which he left Eton, and wrote good Latin verses, an accomplishment\nwhich he partially retained to his last days. From Eton he went to\nOriel, and there commenced that cutting system of which he so soon\nbecame the acknowledged master. He cut an old Eton acquaintance simply\nbecause he had entered at an inferior college, and discontinued visiting\nanother because he had invited him to meet two students of a hall which\nhe was pleased to consider obnoxious. In his studies he affected to\ndespise college distinctions, but yet wrote for the Newdigate prize, and\nproduced the second best poem. But his violation of college rules was\nsystematic and contemptuous. He always ordered his horse at hall time,\nwas the author of half the squibs, turned a tame jack-daw with a band on\ninto the quadrangle to burlesque the master, and treated all proctors'\nand other penalties with contempt. Such, at least, is the character\ngiven him by Mr Lister in Granby.\n\nBut he was now to commence a new career. In 1794 he was gazetted to a\ncornetcy in the Tenth Hussars, the gift of its colonel the Prince of\nWales. Brummell's own account of this origin of his court connexions is,\nthat when a boy at Eton he had been presented to the Prince, and that\nhis subsequent intimacy grew out of the Prince's notice on that\noccasion. But a friend of his told the biographer that the Prince,\nhearing of the young Etonian as a second Selwyn, had asked him to his\ntable, and given him the commission to attach him to his service. This\nwas a remarkable distinction, and in any other hands would have been a\ncard of fortune. He was then but sixteen; he was introduced at once into\nthe highest society of fashion; and he was the favourite companion of a\nprince who required to be amused, delighted in originality, and was fond\nof having the handsomest and pleasantest men of the age in his regiment.\n\nBrummell, though an elegant appendage to the corps, was too much about\nthe person of the Prince to be a diligent officer. The result was, that\nhe was often late on parade, and did not always know his own troop.\nHowever, he evaded the latter difficulty in general, by a contrivance\npeculiarly his own. One of his men had a large blue-tinged nose.\nWhenever Brummell arrived late, he galloped between the squadrons till\nhe saw the blue nose. There he reined up, and felt secure. Once,\nhowever, it happened unfortunately that during his absence there was\nsome change made in the squadrons, and the place of the blue nose was\nshifted. Brummel, on coming up late as usual, galloped in search of his\nbeacon, and having found his old friend he reined up. \"Mr Brummell,\"\ncried the colonel, \"you are with the wrong troop.\" \"No, no,\" said\nBrummell, confirming himself by the sight of the blue nose, and adding\nin a lower tone--\"I know better than that; a pretty thing, indeed, if I\ndid not know my own troop!\"\n\nHis promotion was rapid; for he obtained a troop within three years,\nbeing captain in 1796. Yet within two years he threw up his commission.\nThe ground of this singular absurdity is scarcely worth enquiring into.\nHe was evidently too idle for any thing which required any degree of\nregularity. The command of a troop requires some degree of attention\nfrom the idlest. He had the prospect of competence from his father's\nwealth; and his absolute abhorrence of all exertion was probably his\nchief prompter in throwing away the remarkable advantages of his\nposition--a position from which the exertion of a moderate degree of\nintellectual vigour, or even of physical activity, might have raised him\nto high rank in either the state or the army.\n\nOf course, various readings of his resignation have been given; some\nreferred it to his being obliged to wear hair-powder, which was then\nceasing to be fashionable; others, more probably, to an original love\nfor doing nothing. The reason which he himself assigned, was comic and\ncharacteristic. It was his disgust at the idea of being quartered, for\nhowever short a time, in a manufacturing town. An order arrived one\nevening for the hussars to move to Manchester. Next morning early he\nwaited on the Prince, who, expressing surprise at a visit at such an\nhour from him, was answered--\"The fact is, your royal highness, I have\nheard that we are ordered to Manchester. Now, you must be aware how\ndisagreeable this would be to _me_; I really could not go. _Think!\nManchester!_ Besides, you would not be there. I have therefore, with\nyour permission, determined to sell out.\"--\"Oh, by all means, Brummell!\"\nsaid the Prince; \"do as you please.\" And thus he stripped himself of the\nhighest opportunity in the most showy of all professions before he was\ntwenty-one.\n\nHe now commenced what is called the bachelor life of England; he took a\nhouse in Chesterfield Street, May Fair; gave small but exquisite\ndinners; invited men of rank, and even the Prince, to his table; and\navoiding extravagance--for he seldom played, and kept only a pair of\nhorses--established himself as a refined voluptuary.\n\nYet for this condition his means, though considerable, if aided by a\nprofession, were obviously inadequate. His fortune amounted only to\nL.30,000, though to this something must be added for the sale of his\ntroop. His only resources thenceforth must be play, or an opulent\nmarriage.\n\nNature and art had been favourable to him; his exterior, though not\ndistinguished, was graceful, and his countenance, though not handsome,\nwas intelligent. He possessed in a certain degree the general\naccomplishments, and exactly in the degree, which produce a flattering\nreception in society. He was a tolerable musician, he used his pencil\nwith tolerable skill, and he wrote tolerable verses; more would have\nbeen worse than useless. He dressed admirably, and, as his _cheval de\nbattaile_, he talked with a keenness of observation and a dexterity of\nlanguage, scarcely less rare than wit, and still more exciting among the\nexhausted minds, and in the vapid phraseology, of fashion.\n\nHis person was well formed, and his dress was a matter of extreme study.\nBut it is rather libellous on the memory of this man of taste to\nsuppose, that he at all resembled in this important matter the strutting\ndisplay which we have seen in later times, and which irresistibly\nstrikes the beholder with surprise, that any man capable of seeing\nhimself in the glass could exhibit so strong a temptation to laughter;\nwhile to the more knowing in the affairs of costume, it betrays\ninstantly the secret that the exhibitor is simply a walking placard for\na tailor struggling for employment, and supplying the performer on the\noccasion with a wardrobe for the purpose. Brummell's dress was finished\nwith perfect skill, but without the slightest attempt at exaggeration.\nPlain Hessian boots and pantaloons, or top boots and buckskins, which\nwere then more the fashion than they are now; a blue coat, and a buff\ncoloured waistcoat--for he somewhat leaned to Foxite politics for\nform's-sake, however he despised all politics as unworthy of a man born\nto give the tone to fashion--was his morning dress. In the evening, he\nappeared in a blue coat and white waistcoat, black pantaloons closely\nfitting, and buttoning tight to the ankle, striped silk stockings, and\nopera hat. We may thus observe how much Brummell went _before_ his age;\nfor while he thus originated a dress which no modern refinement has yet\nexceeded, and which contained all that is _de bon ton_ in modern\nequipment, he was living in the midst of a generation almost studiously\nbarbarian--the Foxite imitators of the French republicans--where every\nman's principle was measured by the closeness of his approach to\nsavagery; and nothing but the War interposed to prevent the\n_sans-culottism_ alike of the body and the mind.\n\nBrummell, though not possessing the patronage of a secretary of state,\nhad the power of making men's fortunes. His principal tailors were\nSchweitzer and Davidson of Cork street, Weston, and Meyer of Conduit\nstreet. Those names have since disappeared, but their memory is dear to\ndandyism; and many a superannuated man of elegance will give \"the\npassing tribute of a sigh\" to the incomparable neatness of their \"fit,\"\nand the unrivaled taste of their scissors. Schweitzer and Meyer worked\nfor the Prince, and the latter was in some degree a royal favourite, and\none of the household. He was a man of genius at his needle; an inventor,\nwho even occasionally disputed the palm of originality with Brummell\nhimself. The point is not yet settled to whom was due the happy\nconception of the trouser opening at the ankle and closed by buttons.\nBrummell laid his claim openly, at least to its improvement; while\nMeyer, admitting the elegance given to it by the tact of Brummell,\npersisted in asserting his right to the invention. Yet if, as was said\nof gunpowder and printing, the true inventor is the man who first brings\nthe discovery into renown, the honour is here Brummell's, for he was the\nfirst who _established_ the trouser in the Bond street world.\n\nThe Prince, at this period, cultivated dress with an ardour which\nthreatened to dethrone Brummell himself, and his wardrobe was calculated\nto have cost L.100,000. But his royal highness had one obstacle to\nencounter which ultimately drove him from the field, and restricted all\nhis future chances of distinction to wigs; he began to grow corpulent. A\nscarcely less formidable evil arose in his quarreling with Brummell. In\nthe course of hostilities, the Prince pronounced the beau a tailor's\nblock, fit for nothing but to hang clothes on; while the retaliation\ncame in the shape of a caricature, in which a pair of leather breeches\nis exhibited lashed up between the bed-posts, and an enormously fat man,\nlifted up to them, is making a desperate struggle to get his limbs\nproperly seated in their capacity: another operation of a still more\ndifficult nature, the making the waistband meet, still threatening to\ndefy all exertion.\n\nBrummell's style was in fact simplicity, but simplicity of the most\nstudied kind. Lord Byron defined it, \"a certain exquisite propriety of\ndress.\" \"_No_ perfumes,\" the Beau used to say, \"but fine linen, plenty\nof it, and _country_ washing.\" His opinion on this subject, however,\nchanged considerably in after time; for he used perfumes, and attributed\na characteristic importance to their use. Meeting a gentleman at a ball\nwith whom he conversed for a while, some of the party enquired the\nstranger's name. \"Can't possibly tell,\" was the Beau's answer. \"But he\nis evidently a gentleman--his perfumes are good.\" He objected to country\ngentlemen being introduced into Watier's, on the ground \"that their\nboots always smelt of horse-dung and bad blacking.\"\n\nHis taste in matters of _virtu_ was one of the sources of his profusion;\nbut it always had a reference to himself. He evidently preferred a\nsnuff-box which he could display in his hand, to a Raphael which he\ncould exhibit only on his wall. His snuff-boxes were numerous and\ncostly. But even in taking snuff he had his style: he always opened the\nbox with _one_ hand, the left. The Prince imitated him in this _tour de\ngrace_.\n\nA fashion always becomes more fashionable as it becomes more ridiculous.\nPeople cling to it as they pet a monkey, for its deformity. The high\nhead-dresses of France, which must have been a burden, made the tour of\nEurope, and endured through a century. The high heels, which almost\nwholly precluded safe walking, lasted their century. The use of powder\nwas universal until it was driven out of France by republicanism, and\nout of England by famine. The flour used by the British army alone for\nwhitening their heads was calculated to amount to the annual provision\nfor 50,000 people. Snuff had been universally in use from the middle of\nthe seventeenth century; and the sums spent on this filthy and foolish\nindulgence, the time wasted on it, and the injury done to health, if\nthey could all have been thrown into the common form of money, would\nhave paid the national debt of England. The common people have their\nfull share in this general absurdity. The gin drunk in England and Wales\nannually amounts to nearly twenty millions of pounds sterling; a sum\nwhich would pay all the poor rates three times over, and, turned to any\npublic purpose, might cover the land with great institutions--the\nprincipal result of this enormous expenditure now being to fill the\npopulation with vice, misery, and madness.\n\nIn the matter of coats Brummell had but one rival, the Prince, whose\nrank of course gave him a general advantage, yet whose taste was clearly\nheld as inferior by the royal _artistes_ themselves. A baronet, who went\nto Schweitzer's to get himself equipped in the first style, asked him\nwhat cloth he recommended. \"Why, sir,\" was the answer, \"the Prince wears\nsuperfine, and Mr Brummell the Bath coating. Suppose, sir, we say Bath\ncoating; I think Mr Brummell has a trifle the preference.\" Brummell's\nconnexion with the Prince, his former rank in the hussars, and his own\nagreeable manners, introduced him to the intercourse of the principal\nnobility. In the intervals of his visits to the Prince at Brighton, he\nvisited Belvoir, Chatsworth, Woburn, &c. But he was absolutely _once_ in\ntown in the month of November, as is proved by the following note from\nWoburn:--\n\n     MY DEAR BRUMMELL,--By some accident, which I am unable to account\n     for, your letter of Wednesday did not reach me till Wednesday. I\n     make it a rule never to lend my box; but you have the _entree\n     libre_ whenever you wish to go there, as I informed the boxkeeper\n     last year. I hope Beauvais and you will do great execution at\n     Up-Park. I shall probably be there shortly after you.--Ever yours\n     sincerely,\n\n       \"BEDFORD.\"\n\nAt Belvoir he was _l'ami de la famille_, and at Cheveley, another seat\nof the Duke of Rutland's, his rooms were as sacred as the Duke of\nYork's, who was a frequent visitor there. On the Duke of Rutland's\ncoming of age, in 1799, great rejoicings took place at Belvoir, and\nBrummell was one of the distinguished party there, among whom were the\nPrince of Wales, the late Duke of Argyll, the Marquis of Lorn, and the\nother chief fashionable people of the day. This _fete_ was memorable,\nfor it was said to have cost L.60,000. Brummell was not altogether\neffeminate; he could both shoot and ride, but he liked neither: he was\nnever a Melton man. He said that he could not bear to have his tops and\nleathers splashed by the greasy galloping farmers. The Duke of Rutland\nraised a corps of volunteers on the renewal of the war in 1803; and as\nBrummell had been a soldier the duke gave him a majority. In the course\nof the general inspections of the volunteer corps, an officer was sent\nfrom the Horse Guards to review the duke's regiment, the major being in\ncommand. On the day of the inspection every one was on parade except the\nmajor-commandant. Where is Major Brummell, was the indignant enquiry? He\nwas not to be found. The inspection went on. When it was near its close,\nBrummell was soon coming full gallop across the country in the uniform\nof the Belvoir Hunt, terribly splashed. He apologized for himself by\nsaying, that having left Belvoir quite early, he had expected to be on\nthe parade in time, the meet being close at hand. However, his favourite\nhunter had landed him in a ditch, where, having been dreadfully shaken\nby the fall, he had been lying for an hour. But the general was\ninexorable, and Brummell used to give the worthy officer's speech in the\nfollowing style--\"Sir, this conduct is wholly inexcusable. If I remember\nright, sir, you once had the honour of holding a captain's commission\nunder his royal highness the Prince of Wales, the heir-apparent himself,\nsir! Now, sir, I tell you; I tell you sir, that I should be wanting in a\nproper zeal for the honour of the service; I should be wanting, sir, if\nI did not this very evening report this disgraceful neglect of orders to\nthe commander-in-chief, as well as the state in which you present\nyourself in front of your regiment; and this shall be done, sir. You may\nretire, sir.\"\n\nAll this was very solemn and astounding; but Brummell's presence of mind\nwas not often astounded. He had scarcely walked his horse a few paces\nfrom the spot, when he returned, and said in a subdued tone--\"Excuse me,\ngeneral; but, in my anxiety to explain this most unfortunate business, I\nforgot to deliver a message from the Duke of Rutland. It was to request\nthe honour of your company at dinner.\" The culprit and the\ndisciplinarian grinned together; the general coughed, and cleared his\nthroat sufficiently to express his thanks in these words--\"Ah! why,\nreally I feel and am very much obliged to his grace. Pray, Major\nBrummell, tell the duke I shall be most happy;\" and melodiously raising\nhis voice, (for the Beau had turned his horse once more towards\nBelvoir,) \"Major Brummell, as to this little affair, I am sure no man\ncan regret it more than you do. Assure his grace that I shall have great\npleasure in accepting his very kind invitation;\" and they parted amid a\nshower of smiles. But Brummell had yet but half completed his\nperformance; for the invitation was extempore, and he must gallop to\nBelvoir to acquaint the duke of the guest he was to receive on that day.\n\nBrummell always appeared at the cover side, admirably dressed in a white\ncravat and white tops, which latter either he, or Robinson his valet,\nintroduced, and which eventually superseded the brown ones. The subtlety\nof Brummell's sneers, which made him so highly amusing to the first rank\nof society, made him an object of alarm if not of respect to others. \"Do\nyou see that gentleman near the door?\" said a woman of rank to her\ndaughter, who had been brought for the first time to Almack's. \"Yes! Who\nis he?\" replied the young lady. \"A person, my dear, who will probably\ncome and speak to us; and if he enters into conversation, be careful to\ngive him a favourable impression of you, for he is the celebrated Mr\nBrummell.\" The _debutante_ was the daughter of a duke. It has been said\nthat Madame de Stael considered herself as having failed to attract his\napproval, and that she spoke of it as the greatest _malheur_ which had\noccurred to her during her stay in London, the next in point of calamity\nbeing that the Prince had not called on her in person. The Beau\nperfectly knew his own value. In reply to a nobleman who charged him\nwith involving his son in a gaming transaction, he said--\"Really I did\nmy best for the young man; I gave him my arm all the way from White's to\nWatier's.\" However, there can be no doubt that he was very often\nintolerably impudent; and, as impudence is always vulgar, he was guilty\nof vulgarity. Dining at a gentleman's house in Hampshire, where the\nchampagne did not happen to suit his taste, he refused his glass when\nthe servant came to help him a second time, with--\"No, thank you, I\ndon't drink cider!\" The following anecdote is rather better known.\n\"Where were you yesterday, Brummell?\" said one of his club friends. \"I\nthink,\" said he, \"I dined in the city.\" \"What! you dined in the city?\"\nsaid his friend. \"Yes, the man wished me to bring him into notice, and I\ndesired him to give a dinner, to which I invited Alvanley, Mills,\nPierrepoint, and some others.\" \"All went off well, of course?\" said the\nfriend. \"Oh yes! perfectly, except one _mal-a-apropos_: the fellow who\ngave the dinner had actually the assurance to seat himself at the\ntable.\"\n\nDining at a large party at the house of an opulent but young member of\nLondon society, he asked the loan of his carriage to take him to Lady\nJersey's that evening. \"I am going there,\" said his entertainer, \"and\nwill be happy to take you.\" \"Still, there is a difficulty,\" said\nBrummell in his most delicate tone. \"You do not mean to get up behind,\nthat would not be quite right in your own carriage; and yet, how would\nit do for me to be seen in the same carriage with you?\" Brummell's\nmanner probably laughed off impertinences of this order; for, given\nwithout their colouring from nature, they would have justified an angry\nreply. But he seems never to have involved himself in personal quarrel.\nHe was intact and intangible. Yet he, too, had his mortifications. One\nnight, in going to Lady Dungannon's, he was actually obliged to make use\nof a hackney coach. He got out of it at an unobserved distance from the\ndoor, and made his way up her ladyship's crowded staircase, conceiving\nthat he had escaped all evidence of his humiliation; however, this was\nnot to be. As he was entering the drawing-room a servant touched his\narm, and to his amazement and horror whispered--\"Beg pardon, sir,\nperhaps you are not aware of it, that there is a straw sticking to your\nshoe.\" His style found imitations in the public prints, and one\nsufficiently characteristic thus set forth the merits of a new patent\ncarriage step:--\"There is an art in every thing; and whatever is worthy\nof being learned, cannot be unworthy of a teacher.\" Such was the logical\nargument of the professor of the art of stepping in and out of a\ncarriage, who represented himself as much patronised by the sublime\nBeau Brummell, whose deprecation of those horrid coach steps he would\nrepeat with great delight:--\n\n     \"Mr Brummell,\" he used to say, \"considered the sedan was the only\n     vehicle for a gentleman, it having no steps; and he invariably had\n     his own chair, which was lined with white satin quilted, had down\n     squabs, and a white sheepskin rug at the bottom, brought to the\n     door of his dressing-room, on that account always on the\n     ground-floor, from whence it was transferred with its owner to the\n     foot of the staircase of the house that he condescended to visit.\n     Mr Brummell has told me,\" continued the professor, \"that to enter a\n     coach was torture to him. 'Conceive,' said he, 'the horror of\n     sitting in a carriage with an iron apparatus, afflicted with the\n     dreadful thought, the cruel apprehension, of having one's leg\n     crushed by the machinery. Why are not the steps made to fold\n     _outside_? The only detraction from the luxury of a _vis a vis_, is\n     the double distress! for _both_ legs--excruciating idea!'\"\n\nBrummell's first reform was the neckcloth. Even his reform has passed\naway; such is the transitory nature of all human achievements. But the\nart of neckcloths was once more than a dubious title to renown in the\nworld of Bond Street. The politics of the time were disorderly; and the\ndress of politicians had become as disorderly as their principles. The\nfortunes of Whiggism, too, had run low; and the velvet coat and\nembroidered waistcoat, the costly buckles and gold buttons of better\ndays, were heavier drains on the decreasing revenues of the party than\ncould be long sustained with impunity. Fox had already assumed the\nsloven--the whole faction followed; and the ghosts of the old\noppositionists, in their tie wigs and silver-laced coats, would have\nbeen horrified by the sight of the shock-headed, leather-breeched, and\nbooted generation who howled and harangued on the left side of the\nSpeaker's chair from 1789 to 1806. All was _canaille_. Fox could\nscarcely have been more shabby, had he been the representative of a\npopulation of bankrupts. The remainder of the party might have been\nsupposed, without any remarkable stretch of imagination, to have emerged\nfrom the workhouse. All was sincere squalidness, patriotic\npauperism--the _un_washing principle. One of the cleverest caricatures\nof that cleverest of caricaturists, the Scotchman Gilray, was his sketch\nof the Whigs preparing for their first levee after the Foxite accession\non the death of Pitt. The title was, \"_Making decent!_\" The whole of the\nnew ministry were exhibited in all the confusion of throwing off their\nrags, and putting on their new clothing. There stood Sheridan,\nhalf-smothered in the novel attempt to put on a clean shirt. In another\ncorner Fox, Grey, and Lord Moira, straining to peep into the same\nshaving-glass, were all three making awkward efforts to use the\nlong-forgotten razor. Others were gazing at themselves in a sort of\nsavage wonder at the strangeness of new washed faces. Some _sans\nculottes_ were struggling to get into breeches; and others, whose feet\nwere accustomed to the ventilation of shoes which let their toes\nthrough, were pondering over the embarrassment of shoes impervious to\nthe air. The minor apparatus of court costume scattered round on the\nchairs, the bags and swords, the buckles and gloves, were stared at by\nthe groups with the wonder and perplexity of an American Indian.\n\nInto this irregular state of things Brummell made his first stride in\nthe spirit of a renovator. The prevailing cravat of the time was\ncertainly deplorable. Let us give it in the words of history:--\"It was\nwithout stiffening of any kind, and bagged out in front, _rucking_ up to\nthe front in a roll.\" (We do not precisely comprehend this expression,\nwhose _precision_, however, we by no means venture to doubt.) Brummell\nboldly met this calamity, by slightly starching the too flexible\nmaterial--a change in which, as his biographer with due seriousness and\ntruth observes--\"a reasoning mind must acknowledge there is not much\nobjectionable.\"\n\nImitators, of course, always exceed their model, and the cravat adopted\nby the dandies soon became _excessively_ starched; the test being that\nof raising three parts of their length by one corner without bending.\nYet Brummell, though he adhered to the happy medium, and was moderate in\nhis starch, was rigorous in his tie. If his cravat did not correspond to\nhis wishes in its first arrangement, it was instantly cast aside. His\nvalet was seen one morning leaving his chamber with an armful of tumbled\ncravats, and on being asked the cause, solemnly replied, \"These are our\n_failures_.\"\n\nPerfection is slow in all instances; but talent and diligence are sure\nto advance. Brummell's \"tie\" became speedily the admiration of the _beau\nmonde_. The manner in which this dexterous operation was accomplished\nwas perfectly his own, and deserves to be recorded for the benefit of\nposterity.\n\nThe collar, which was always fixed to his shirt, was so large, that,\nbefore being folded down, it completely hid his head and face, and the\nneckcloth was at least a foot in height. The first _coup d'archet_ was\nmade with the shirt-collar, which he folded down to its proper size; but\nthe delicate part of the performance was still to come. Brummell\n\"standing before the glass, with his chin raised towards the ceiling,\nnow, by the gentle and gradual declension of his lower jaw, creased the\ncravat to reasonable dimensions; the form of each succeeding crease\nbeing perfected with the shirt which he had just discarded.\" We were not\naware of the nicety which was demanded to complete the folds of this\nsuperior swathing; but, after this development, who shall pronounce a\ndandy idle?\n\nBrummell was as critical on the dress of others as he was _recherche_ in\nhis own, and this care he extended to all ranks. He was once walking up\nSt James's Street, arm-in-arm with a young nobleman whom he condescended\nto patronize. The Beau suddenly asked him, \"what he called _those\nthings_ on his feet.\"--\"Why, shoes.\"--\"Shoes are they?\" said Brummell\ndoubtfully, and stooping to look at them; \"I thought they were\nslippers?\"\n\nThe late Duke of Bedford asked him his opinion of a new coat. \"Turn\nround,\" said Mr Beau. When the examination was concluded in front and\nrear, the Beau, feeling the lapel delicately with his finger and thumb,\nasked in a most pathetic manner, \"Bedford, do you call this _thing_ a\ncoat?\"\n\nSomebody told him, among a knot of loungers at White's, \"Brummell, your\nbrother William is in town. Is he not coming here?\"--\"Yes,\" was the\nreply, \"in a day or two; but I have recommended him to walk the _back\nstreets_ till his new clothes come home.\"\n\nPractical jokes are essentially vulgar, and apt to be hazardous besides;\ntwo reasons which should have prevented their performance by an\nindividual whose object was to be the standard of elegance, and whose\nobject at no time was to expose himself to the rougher remonstrances of\nmankind; but the following piece of sportiveness was at least amusing.\n\nMeeting an old _emigre_ marquis at the seat of some noble friend, and\nprobably finding the Frenchman a bore, he revenged himself by mixing\nsome finely powdered sugar in his hair-powder. On the old Frenchman's\ncoming into the breakfast-room next morning, highly powdered as usual,\nthe flies, attracted by the scent of the sugar, instantly gathered round\nhim. He had scarcely begun his breakfast, when every fly in the room was\nbusy on his head. The unfortunate marquis was forced to lay down his\nknife and fork, and take out his pocket-handkerchief to repel these\ntroublesome assailants, but they came thicker and thicker. The victim\nnow rose from his seat and changed his position; but all was in\nvain--the flies followed in fresh clusters. In despair he hurried to the\nwindow; but every fly lingering there was instantly buzzing and\ntickling. The marquis, feverish with vexation and surprise, threw up the\nwindow. This unlucky measure produced only a general invasion by all the\nhost of flies sunning themselves on the lawn. The astonishment and\namusement of the guests were excessive. Brummell alone never smiled. At\nlast M. le Marquis gave way in agony, and, clapping his hands on his\nhead, and followed by a cloud of flies, rushed out of the room. The\nsecret was then divulged, and all was laughter.\n\n\"Poodle B--g,\" so well known in the world of fashion, owed his\n_soubriquet_ to Brummell. B--g was fond of letting his hair, which was\nlight-coloured, curl round his forehead. He was one day driving in his\ncurricle, with a poodle by his side. The Beau hailed him with--\"Ah,\nB--g, how do you do?--A _family_ vehicle, I see.\"\n\nSome of those oddities of expression are almost too well known now for\neffect; but they must have sparkled prodigiously among the exhausted\ncircles of his West-end day.\n\n\"You seem to have caught cold, Brummell,\" said a lounging visitor on\nhearing him cough. \"Yes--I got out of my carriage yesterday, coming from\nthe Pavilion, and the wretch of an innkeeper put me into the coffee-room\nwith a damp stranger.\"\n\nIn a stormy August--\"Brummell, did any one ever see such a summer\nday?\"--\"Yes, _I_ did, last winter.\"\n\nOn returning from a country mansion, of which he happened to disapprove,\nhe defined it \"An exceedingly good house for stopping a _single_ night\nin.\"\n\nOn the whole, the biographer has given a tolerable selection of\nBrummell's _hits_, some of which, however, were so intolerably\nimpertinent, that he must have either thoroughly \"known his man,\" or he\nmust have smoothed down their severity by some remarkable tone of voice\nor pleasantry of visage. Without those palliations, it is not easy to\ncomprehend his occasional rudeness even to friends. One day, standing\nand speaking at the carriage-door of a lady, she expressed her surprise\nat his throwing away his time on so quiet and unfashionable a\nperson.--\"My dear friend, don't mention it: there is _no one to see\nus_.\"\n\nBut his admiration for the sex must have often brought him close on the\nedge of serious inconvenience. Once, at the house of a nobleman, he\nrequested a moment's interview in the library, and then and there\ncommunicated the formidable intelligence, \"that he must immediately\nleave the house--on that day.\"\n\n\"Why, you intended to stay a month,\" said his hospitable entertainer.\n\n\"True--but I must be gone--I feel I am in love with your countess.\"\n\n\"Well, my dear sir, I can't help that. I was in love with her myself\ntwenty years ago,\" said the good-humoured husband. \"But is she in love\nwith you?\"\n\nThe Beau cast down his eyes, and, in all the modesty of impudence, said\nfaintly, \"I believe she is.\"\n\n\"Oh! that alters the case. I shall send for your post-horses. Good\nmorning.\"\n\nHis life was flirtation, a matter which could not be indulged in\nmatrimony, and he therefore never married. Yet once he went so far as to\nelope with a young person of rank from a ball: the pair were, however,\nimmediately overtaken. The affair was, of course, the talk of the clubs.\nBut Brummell had his own way of wearing the willow. \"On the whole,\" said\nhe, \"I consider I have reason to congratulate myself. I lately heard\nfrom her favourite maid that her ladyship had been seen--_to drink\nbeer_!\"\n\nSome of the Beau's letters at this period are given; but they are not\nfortunate specimens of his taste: even in writing to women they are\nquaint, affected, and approaching to that unpardonable crime, dulness.\nHis letters written in his wane of life, and under the realities of\nsuffering, are much more striking, contain some pathetic and even some\npowerful language, and show that fashion and his own follies had\nobscured a mind of natural talent, if not of original tenderness.\n\nThe following letter we look upon as quite sufficient to have excluded\nhim from the recollections of any Lady Jane on earth, if she happened to\nknow the difference between coxcombry and common feeling:--\n\n     \"MY DEAR LADY JANE,--With the miniature, it seems, I am not to be\n     trusted even for two _pitiful_ hours. My own memory must be then my\n     only _disconsolate_ expedient to obtain a resemblance.\n\n     \"As I am unwilling to merit the imputation of committing myself by\n     too flagrant a liberty in retaining your glove, which you\n     charitably sent at my head yesterday, as you would have extended an\n     _eleemosynary sixpence_ to the _supplicating hat_ of a mendicant, I\n     restore it to you. And, allow me to assure you, that I have too\n     much regard and respect for you, and too little practical vanity\n     myself, (whatever appearances may be against me,) to have\n     entertained, for one _treacherous_ instant, the impertinent\n     intention to defraud you of it. You are angry, perhaps irreparably\n     incensed against me for this _petty larceny_. I have no defence to\n     offer in mitigation but that of _frenzy_. But you know that you are\n     an _angel_ visiting these sublunary spheres, and therefore your\n     first quality should be that of mercy. Yet you are sometimes\n     wayward and volatile in your _seraphic_ disposition. Though you\n     have no wings yet you have weapons, and those are resentment and\n     estrangement from me.--With sentiments of the deepest\n     _compunction_, I am always your _miserable slave_,\n\n       \"GEORGE BRUMMELL.\"\n\nWe have not a doubt that he perused this toilsome performance a dozen\ntimes before he folded it up, advanced to his mirror to see how so\nbrilliant a correspondent must look after so astonishing a production,\nmoved round the room in a minuet step; and, when he sent it away at\nlast, followed it with a sigh at the burial of so much renown in a\nwoman's escritoire, and a regret that it could not be stereotyped to\nmake its progress round the world. And yet, as it appeared that the lady\nhad thrown the glove at him, and even lent him her miniature, it would\nbe difficult to discover any ground for her wrath or his compunction.\nBoth were evidently equally imaginary.\n\nThe Beau always regarded the city as a _terra incognita_. A merchant\nonce asked him to dine there. Brummell gave him a look of intense\nenquiry. The merchant pressed him. \"Well,\" said the Beau, (who probably\nhad excellent reasons for non-resistance to the man of money;) \"well, if\nit _must_ be--but you must first promise faithfully _never_ to say a\nword on the subject.\"\n\nA visitor, full of the importance of a tour in the north of England,\nasked him which of the lakes he preferred. \"I can't possibly remember,\"\nwas the reply; \"they are a great way from St James's Street, and I don't\nthink they are spoken of in the clubs.\" The visitor urged the question.\n\"Robinson,\" said the Beau, turning in obvious distress to his valet,\n\"Robinson, pray tell this gentleman which of the lakes I\npreferred.\"--\"Windermere, sir, I think it was,\" said the valet. \"Well,\"\nadded Brummell, \"probably you are in the right, Robinson. It may have\nbeen. Pray, sir, will Windermere do?\"\n\n\"I wonder, Brummell, you take the trouble of driving to the barracks of\nthe 10th with four horses. It certainly looks rather superb,\" said one\nof the officers. \"Why, I dare say it does; but that is not _the_ point.\nWhat could I do, when my French valet, the best dresser of hair in the\nuniverse, gave me warning that he must leave me to myself, unless I gave\nup the vulgarity of posting with _two_?\"\n\nWe come, in the course of this goodly history, to the second great event\nof the Beau's life--the first being his introduction to Carlton House.\nThe second was his being turned out of it. Brummell always denied, and\nwith some indignation, the story of \"Wales, ring the bell!\"--a version\nwhich he justly declared to be \"positively vulgar,\" and therefore, with\ndue respect for his own sense of elegance, absolutely impossible for\n_him_. He gave the more rational explanation, that he had taken the part\nof lady who was presumed to be the rival of Mrs Fitzherbert, and had\nbeen rash enough even to make some remarks on Mrs Fitzherbert's _en bon\npoint_, a matter of course never to be forgiven by a belle. This\nextended to a \"declining love\" between him and the Prince, whose foible\nwas a horror of growing corpulent, and whom Brummell therefore\ndenominated \"Big Ben,\" the nickname of a gigantic porter at Carlton\nHouse; adding the sting of calling Mrs Fitzherbert Benina. Moore, in one\nof his satires on the Prince's letter of February the 13th, 1812, to the\nDuke of York, in which he _cut_ the Whigs, thus parodies that celebrated\n\"sentence of banishment:\"--\n\n    \"Neither have I resentments, nor wish there should come ill\n    To mortal, except, now I think on't, Beau Brummell,\n    Who threaten'd, last year, in a super-fine passion,\n    To cut _me_, and bring the old king into fashion.\"\n\nBrummell now, since the sword was drawn, resolved to throw away the\nsheath, and his hits were keen and \"damaging,\" as those things are now\ntermed. In this style he said to little Colonel M'Mahon, the Prince's\nsecretary--\"I made him, and I shall unmake him.\"\n\nThe \"fat friend\" hit was more pungent in reality than in its usual form.\nThe Prince, walking down St James's Street with Lord Moira, and seeing\nBrummell approaching arm-in-arm with a man of rank, determined to show\nthe openness of the quarrel, stopped and spoke to the noble lord with an\napparent unconsciousness of ever having seen the Beau before. The\nmoment he was turning away, Brummell asked, in his most distinct voice,\n\"Pray, _who_ is your _fat_ friend?\" Nothing could be more dexterously\nimpudent; for it repaid the Prince's pretended want of recognition\nprecisely in his own coin, and besides stung him in the very spot where\nhe was known to be most thin-skinned.\n\nIt is sufficiently remarkable, that the alienation of the Prince from\nBrummell scarcely affected his popularity with the patrician world, or\nhis reception by the Duke and Duchess of York. He was a frequent guest\nat Oatlands, and seems to have amused the duke by his pleasantry, and\ncultivated the taste of the duchess by writing her epigrams, and making\nher presents of little dogs. The Duke of York, though not much gifted\nwith the faculty of making jests, greatly enjoyed them in others. He was\na good-humoured, easy-mannered man, wholly without affectation of any\nkind; well-intentioned, with some sagacity--mingled, however, with a\ngood deal of that abruptness which belonged to all the Brunswicks; and\nthough unfortunate in his domestic conduct, a matter on which it would\ndo no service to the reader to enlarge, yet a brave soldier, and a\nzealous and most useful commander-in-chief at the Horse Guards. He, too,\ncould say good things now and then. One day at Oatlands, as he was\nmounting his horse to ride to town, seeing a poor woman driven from the\ndoor, he asked the servant what she was. \"A beggar, your royal highness:\nnothing but a soldier's wife.\"--\"Nothing but a soldier's wife! And pray,\nsir, what is your mistress?\" Of course, the poor woman was called back\nand relieved.\n\nStill Brummell continued in high life, and was one of the four who gave\nthe memorable _fete_ at the Argyll Rooms in July 1813, in consequence of\nhaving won a considerable sum at hazard. The other three were, Sir Henry\nMildmay, Pierrepoint, and Lord Alvanley. The difficulty was, whether or\nnot to invite the Prince, who had quarrelled with Mildmay as well as\nwith Brummell. In this solemn affair Pierrepoint sounded the Prince, and\nascertained that he would accept the invitation if it were proposed to\nhim. When the Prince arrived, and was of course received by the four\ngivers of the _fete_, he shook hands with Alvanley and Pierrepoint, but\ntook no notice whatever of the others. Brummell was indignant, and, at\nthe close of the night, would not attend the Prince to his carriage.\nThis was observed, and the Prince's remark on it next day was--\"Had\nBrummell taken the cut I gave him last night good-humouredly, I should\nhave renewed my intimacy with him.\" How that was to be done, however,\nwithout lying down to be kicked, it would be difficult to discover.\nBrummell however, on this occasion, was undoubtedly as much in the right\nas the Prince was in the wrong.\n\nBrummell, in conformity to the habits of the time, and the proprieties\nof his caste, was of course a gambler, and of course was rapidly ruined;\nbut we have no knowledge that he went through the whole career, and\nturned swindler. One night he was playing with Combe, who united the\nthree characters of a lover of play, a brewer, and an alderman. It was\nat Brookes's, and in the year of his mayoralty. \"Come, Mash Tub, what do\nyou set?\" said the Beau. \"Twenty-five guineas,\" was the answer. The Beau\nwon, and won the same sum twelve times running. Then, putting the cash\nin his pocket, said with a low bow, \"Thank you, alderman; for this, I'll\nalways patronize your porter.\"--\"Very well, sir,\" said Combe dryly, \"I\nonly wish every other blackguard in London would do the same.\"\n\nAt this time play ran high at the clubs. A baronet now living was said\nto have lost at Watier's L.10,000 at one sitting, at _ecarte_. In 1814,\nBrummell lost not only all his winnings, but \"an unfortunate L.10,000,\"\nas he expressed it, the last that he had at his bankers. Brummell was\nnow ruined; and, to prevent the possibility of his recovery at any\nfuture period, he raised money at ruinous interest, and finally made his\nescape to Calais. Still, when every thing else forsook him, his odd way\nof telling his own story remained. \"He said,\" observed one of his\nfriends at Caen, when talking about his altered circumstances, \"that, up\nto a particular period of his life, every thing prospered with him, and\nthat he attributed this good luck to the possession of a silver sixpence\nwith a hole in it, which somebody had given him some years before, with\nan injunction to take good care of it, as every thing would go well with\nhim so long as he kept it, and everything the contrary if he happened to\nlose it.\" And so it turned out; for having at length, in an evil hour,\ngiven it by mistake to a hackney coachman, a complete reverse of his\naffairs took place, and one misfortune followed another until he was\nobliged to fly. On his being asked why he did not advertise a reward for\nit, he answered--\"I did; and twenty people came with sixpences with\nholes in them for the reward, but not _my_ sixpence.\" \"And you never\nheard any more of it?\" \"No,\" he replied; \"no doubt that rascal\nRothschild, or some of that set, have got hold of it.\" But the Beau's\nretreat from London was still to be characteristic. As it had become\nexpedient that he must make his escape without _eclat_, on the day of\nhis intended retreat he dined coolly at his club, and finished his\nLondon performances by sending from the table a note to his friend\nScrope Davies, couched in the following prompt and expressive form:--\n\n     \"MY DEAR SCROPE,--Lend me two hundred pounds: the banks are shut,\n     and all my money is in the 3 per cents. It shall be repaid\n     to-morrow morning.--Yours, GEORGE BRUMMELL.\"\n\nThe answer was equally prompt and expressive--\n\n     \"MY DEAR GEORGE,--It is very unfortunate, but all _my_ money is in\n     the 3 per cents.--Yours, S. DAVIES.\"\n\nSuch is the story;\n\n    \"I cannot tell how the truth may be,\n    I tell the tale as 'twas told to me.\"\n\nNothing daunted, the Beau went to the opera, allowed himself to be seen\nabout the house, then quickly retiring, stepped into a friend's chaise\nand met his own carriage, which waited for him a short distance from\ntown. Travelling all night with four horses, he reached Dover by\nmorning, hired a vessel to carry him over, and soon left England and his\ncreditors behind. He was instantly pursued; but the chase stopped on\nreaching the sea. Debtors could not then be followed to France, and\nBrummell was secure.\n\nThe little, rude, and thoroughly comfortless town of Calais was now to\nbe the place of residence, for nearly the rest of his life, to a man\naccustomed to the highest luxuries of London life, trained to the\nkeenest sensibility of London enjoyment, and utterly absorbed in London\nobjects of every kind. Ovid's banishment among the Thracians could\nscarcely be a more formidable change of position. Yet Brummell's\npleasantry did not desert him even in Calais. On some passing friend's\nremark on the annoyance of living in such a place--\"Pray,\" said the\nBeau, \"is it not a general opinion that a gentleman might manage to\nspend his time pleasantly enough _between_ London and Paris?\"\n\nAt Calais he took apartments at the house of one Leleux, an old\nbookseller, which he fitted up to his own taste; and on which, as if\nadversity had no power to teach him common prudence, he expended the\ngreater part of the 25,000 francs which, by some still problematical\nmeans, he had contrived to carry away with him. This was little short of\nmadness; but it was a madness which he had been practising for the last\ndozen years, and habit had now rendered ruin familiar to him. At length\na little gleam of hope shone across his fortunes. George IV. arrived at\nCalais on his way to Hanover. The Duke d'Angouleme came from Paris to\nreceive his Majesty, and Calais was all in a tumult of loyalty. The\nreports of Brummell's conduct on this important arrival, of the King's\nnotice of him, and of the royal liberality in consequence, were of every\nshape and shade of invention. But all of them, except the mere\ncircumstance of the King's pronouncing his name, seem to have been\nutterly false. Brummell, mingling in the crowd which cheered his Majesty\nin his progress, was observed by the King, who audibly said, \"Good\nheavens, Brummell!\" But the recognition proceeded no further. The Beau\nsent his valet, who was a renowned maker of punch, to exhibit his talent\nin that art at the royal entertainment, and also sent a present of some\nexcellent maraschino. But no result followed. The King was said to have\ntransmitted to him a hundred pound note; but even this is unluckily\napocryphal. Leleux, his landlord, thus gives the version. The English\nconsul at Calais came to Mr Brummell late one evening, and intimated\nthat the King was out of snuff, saying, as he took up one of the boxes\nlying on his table, \"Give me one of yours.\"--\"With all my heart,\" was\nthe reply; \"but not that box, for if the King saw it I should never have\nit again\"--implying that there was some story attached to it. On\nreaching the theatre the consul presented the snuff, and the King\nturning, said, \"Why, sir, where did you get your snuff? There is only\none person that I know that can mix snuff in this way!\"--\"It is some of\nMr Brummell's, your Majesty,\" replied the consul. The next day the King\nleft Calais; and, as he seated himself in the carriage, he said to Sir\nArthur Paget, who commanded the yacht that brought him over, \"I leave\nCalais, and have not seen Brummell.\" From this his biographer infers\nthat he had received neither money nor message, and his landlord is of\nthe same opinion. But slight as those circumstances are, it seems\nobvious that George IV. had a forgiving heart towards the Beau\nnotwithstanding all his impertinences, that he would have been glad to\nforgive him, and that he would, in all probability, have made some\nprovision for his old favourite if Brummell had exhibited any signs of\nrepentance. On the other hand, Brummell was a man of spirit, and no man\nought to put himself in the way of being treated contemptuously even by\nroyalty; but it seems strange that, with all his adroitness, he should\nnot have hit upon a middle way. There could have been no great\ndifficulty in ascertaining whether the King would receive him, in\nsending a respectful message, in offering his loyal congratulations on\nthe King's arrival, or even in expressing his regret at his long\nalienation from a Prince to whom he had been once indebted for so many\nfavours, and who certainly never harboured resentment against man.\nBrummell evidently repented his tardiness on this occasion; for he made\nup his mind to make a more direct experiment when the King should visit\nthe town-hall on his return. But opportunities once thrown away are\nseldom regained. The king on his return did not visit the town-hall, but\nhurried on board, and the last chance of reconciliation was gone.\n\nYet during his long residence in Calais, the liberality of his own\nconnexions in England enabled him to show a good face to poverty. He\npaid his bills punctually whenever the remittance came, and was\ncharitable to the mendicants who, probably for the last thousand years,\nhave made Calais their headquarters. The general name for him was the\n_Roi de Calais_. An anecdote of his pleasantry in almsgiving reached the\npublic ear. A French beggar asked him for a two-sous piece. \"I don't\nknow the coin,\" said Brummell, \"never having had one; but I suppose you\nmean a franc. There, take it.\" His former celebrity had also spread far\nand wide among the population. A couple of English workmen in one of the\nfactories of the town, one day followed a gentleman who had a\nconsiderable resemblance to Brummell. He heard one of them say to the\nother, \"Now, I'll bet you a pot that's him.\" Shortly after, one of them\nstrolled up to him, with, \"Beg pardon, sir--hope no offence, but we two\nhave got a bet--now, a'n't you George Ring the Bell?\" Brummell's habits\nof flirtation did not desert him in France; and in one instance he paid\nsuch marked attention to a young English lady, that a friend was deputed\nto enquire his purposes. Here Brummell's knowledge of every body did him\ngood service. The deputy on this occasion having once figured as the\nhead of a veterinary hospital, or some such thing, but being then in the\ncommissariat,--\"Why, Vulcan!\" exclaimed Brummell, \"what a humbug you\nmust be to come and lecture me on such a subject! You, who were for two\nyears at hide-and-seek to save yourself from being shot by Sir T. S. for\nrunning off with one of his daughters.\" \"Dear me,\" said the astonished\nfriend, \"you have touched a painful chord; I will have no more to do\nwith this business.\" The business died a natural death.\n\nHis dressing-table was _recherche_. Its _batterie de toilette_ was\ncurious, complete, and of silver; one part of it being a spitting-dish,\nhe always declaring that \"it was impossible to _spit in clay_.\" His\n\"making up\" every morning occupied two hours. When he first arrived in\nCaen he carried a cane, but often exchanged it for a brown silk\numbrella, which was always protected by a silk case of remarkable\naccuracy of fit--the handle surmounted by an ivory head of George the\nFourth, in well-curled wig and gracious smile. In the street he _never_\ntook off his hat to any one, not even to a lady; for it would have been\ndifficult to replace it in the same position, it having been put on with\npeculiar care. We finish by stating, that he always had the _soles_ of\nhis boots blackened as well as the upper leathers; his reason for this\nbeing, that, in the usual negligence of human nature, he never could be\nsure that the polish on the _edge_ of the sole would be accurately\nproduced, unless the whole underwent the operation. He occasionally\npolished a single boot himself, to show how perfection on this point was\nto be obtained. Clogs, so indispensable in the dirt of an unpaved French\nstreet, he always abhorred; yet, under cover of night, he _could_, now\nand then, condescend to wear them. \"Theft,\" as the biographer observes,\n\"in Sparta was a crime--but only when it was _discovered_.\"\n\nBut after this life of fantasy and frivolity, on which so much\ncleverness was thrown away, the unfortunate Beau finished his career\nmiserably. On his application to the Foreign Office, representing his\nwish to be removed to any other consulate where he might serve more\neffectually, and of course with a better income; the former part of his\nletter was made the ground of abolishing the consulate, while the latter\nreceived no answer. We say nothing of this measure, any further than\nthat it had the effect of utter ruin on poor Brummell. The total loss of\nhis intellect followed; he was reduced to absolute beggary, and finally\nspent his last miserable hours in an hospital for lunatic mendicants.\nSurely it could not have been difficult, in the enormous patronage of\noffice, to have found some relief for the necessities of a man whose\nofficial character was unimpeached; who had been expressly put into\ngovernment employ by ministers for the sake of preserving him from\npenury; who had been the companion, the _friend_ of princes and nobles;\nand whose faults were not an atom more flagrant than those of every man\nof fashion in his time. But he was now utterly ruined and wretched. Some\nstrong applications were made to his former friends by a Mr Armstrong, a\nmerchant of Caen, who seems to have constantly acted a most humane part\nto him, and occasional donations were sent. A couple of hundred pounds\nwere even remitted from the Foreign Office; and, by the exertions of\nLord Alvanley and the present Duke of Beaufort, who never deserted him,\nand this is much to the honour of both, a kind of small annuity was paid\nto him. But he was already overwhelmed with debt, for his income from\nthe consulate netted him but L.80 a-year, the other L.320 being in the\nhands of the banker, his creditor; and it seems probable that his\ndestitution deprived him of his senses after a period of wretchedness\nand even of rags. Broken-hearted and in despair, concluding with\nhopeless imbecility, this man of taste and talent, for he possessed both\nin no common degree, was left to die in the hands of strangers--no\nslight reproach to the cruel insensibility of those who, wallowing in\nwealth, and fluttering from year to year through the round of fashion,\nsuffered their former associate, nay their envied example, to perish in\nhis living charnel. He was buried in the Protestant cemetery of Caen,\nunder a stone with this inscription:--\n\n            In\n        Memory of\n    GEORGE BRUMMELL, ESQ.,\n   who departed this life\n  On the 29th of March 1840.\n      Aged 62 years.\n\nMr Jesse deserves credit for his two volumes. There is a good deal in\nthem which has no direct reference to Brummell; but he has collected\nprobably all that could be known. The books are _very_ readable, the\nanecdotes pleasantly told, the style is lively, and frequently shows\nthat the biographer could adopt the thought as well as the language of\nhis hero. At all events he has given us the detail of a character of\nwhom every body had heard something, and every body wished to hear more.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} _The Life of George Brummell, Esq._ By Captain Jesse. 2 volumes.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ACTUAL CONDITION OF THE GREEK STATE.\n\n                                     \"Say why\n    That ancient story of Prometheus chain'd?\n    The vulture--the inexhaustible repast\n    Drawn from his vitals? Say what meant the woes\n    By Tantalus entail'd upon his race,\n    And the dark sorrows of the line of Thebes?\n    Fictions in form, but in their substance truths--\n    Tremendous truths!--familiar to the men\n    Of long past times; nor obsolete in ours.\"--_Excursion._\n\n\nIn an article on the bankruptcy of the Greek kingdom, (No. CCCXXXV.,\nSeptember 1843,) we gave an account of the financial condition of the\nnew state; and we ventured to suggest that a revolution was unavoidable.\nThat revolution occurred even sooner than we expected; for our number\nhad hardly reached Athens ere King Otho was compelled to summon a\nnational assembly to aid him in framing the long promised constitution.\n\nAs our former number explained the immediate causes of the discontent in\nGreece, we shall now furnish our readers with a description of the\nrevolution, of its results, and of the great difficulties which still\noppose serious barriers to the formation of an independent _kingdom_ in\nGreece. The late revolution was distinguished by an open rebellion of\nthe army; and as a rebellion, in which the troops have been covered with\ndecorations, and have received a gratification of some months' pay, is\nnot the era from which we should wish to date the civil liberty and\nnational prosperity of a monarchy founded by Great Britain, France, and\nRussia, we shall use great delicacy in describing the movement, and\nrecord no fact which we cannot substantiate by legal or documentary\nevidence.\n\nIt is not to be supposed when we in Edinburgh were informed of the\napproaching storm in Greece, that the people of the country were without\nanxiety. The _Morning Post_, (23d September 1843,) which has generally\ncontained very accurate information from Athens, published a letter\nwritten from that city on the 5th September. This Athenian correspondent\ndeclared \"that the Greeks have so fully made up their minds to put an\nend to the Bavarian dynasty, as to be resolved not even to accept a\nconstitution at the hands of the king. They declare that they will\nabstain from all outrage and personal violence; and that they only\ndesire the embarkation of King Otho and his German followers, who shall\nbe free to leave the country without the slightest injury.\"\n\nWe solicit the attention of her majesty's ministers to these memorable\nwords, written before the revolution.\n\nThe danger, in short, was visible to every body but King Otho, his\nGerman camarilla, and his renegade Greek ministers. At this time Kalergy\nwas inspector of the cavalry. He had always expressed his\ndissatisfaction with the system of Bavarian favouritism in the army; and\nhis gallant and disinterested conduct during the war against the Turks,\nrendered him universally popular. Infinitely more of a gentleman and a\nman of the world than any of the court faction, it is said that he was\nviewed with feelings of personal as well as political aversion. It\nhappened that, about a week before the revolution, the king reviewed the\ngarrison of Athens, and in the order of the day which followed this\nreview, General Kalergy was noticed in such a way that he felt himself\ndeeply insulted. A Bavarian, Captain Hess, then marshal of the palace,\nwas supposed to be the author of this document. As the attack on Kalergy\nwas evidently caused by his political conduct, the whole Greek army took\nhis part, and the cry was raised that the Bavarians must be driven out\nof Greece.\n\nThe prominent part which General Kalergy has taken in the late\nrevolution, and the romantic incidents of his life, induce us to offer\nour readers a short sketch of his earlier career. We have known him in\ncircumstances when intercourse ensures intimacy; for we have sat\ntogether round the same watch-fires, on the mountains of Argolis and\nAttica. To parody the words of Anastasius, we saw him achieve his first\ndeed of prowess, and we were present when he heard his first praises.\nHastings's lips have long been silenced by death, but the music of his\napplause still rings in our ears.\n\nDemetrius Kalergy is descended from a Cretan family, whose name is\nfamous in the annals of Candia. He was born in Russia, and was studying\nin Germany when the Greeks took up arms against the Turks. His elder\nbrothers, Nicolas and Manolis, having resolved to join the cause of\ntheir countrymen, repaired to Marseilles, where, with the assistance of\ntheir uncle, a man of great wealth in Russia, they freighted a vessel,\nand purchased a small train of artillery, consisting of sixteen guns,\nand a considerable supply of muskets and ammunition. Demetrius, though\nthen only fifteen years of age, could not be restrained from joining\nthem, and the three brothers arrived in Greece together. The young\nKalergy soon gave proofs of courage and military talents. His second\nbrother, Manolis, was killed during the siege of Athens; but the eldest,\nNicolas, a man who unites the accomplishments of a court to the\nsincerest feelings of patriotism, still resides in Greece, universally\nrespected. During the Bavarian sway he took no part in political\naffairs; but he was elected a member of the national assembly, which has\njust terminated its labours in preparing the constitution.\n\nDemetrius Kalergy was first entrusted with an independent command in\n1824, when the Peloponnesian chiefs and primates, Kolokotroni, Londos,\nNotaras, Deliyani, Zaimi, and Sessini, endeavoured to divide the Morea\ninto a number of small principalities, of which they expected to secure\nthe revenues for themselves. In spite of Kalergy's youth, he was ordered\nto take the field against the first corps of the rebels that had acted\nin open hostility to the existing government. With his usual promptitude\nand decision, he attacked Panos Kolokotroni, the son of the old Klepht,\nand Staikos, a Moreote captain of some reputation, in the plain of\nTripolitza, where they were posted for the despicable purpose of\nintercepting the trains of mules laden with merchandise for the supply\nof the shops of Tripolitza, then the great market of all the central\nparts of the Morea.\n\nThe affair was really brilliant. The rebels were encamped on a low hill,\nand, not expecting that Kalergy would depart from the usual practice of\ncarrying on a long series of skirmishes, they had paid no attention to\ntheir position. The attack opened in the usual way by a fierce fire at a\nvery long distance; but Kalergy, on perceiving the careless arrangements\nof his enemy, soon induced his troops to creep up pretty close to the\nMoreotes, when he suddenly jumped up, and shouted to his followers, \"The\nshortest way is the best. Follow me!\" and rushed forward. His whole band\nwas within the hostile lines in an instant. The manoeuvre was so\nunexpected, that few of the rebels fired; many were loading their\nmuskets, and none had time to draw their swords or yatagans. About 170\nwere slain, and, if report may be trusted, one of the rebel chiefs was\nstruck down by Kalergy, and the other taken prisoner after receiving a\nwound in personal combat with the young hero. The faction of the Moreote\nbarons, as these greedy plunderers of the Greek shopkeepers would fain\nhave been called, was dissolved by this unexpected victory. Many laid\ndown their arms, and made peace with the government.\n\nGeneral Kalergy was afterwards present in the town of Navarin when it\nwas besieged by Ibrahim Pasha, and marched out with his band when the\nplace capitulated. This defeat, though he had only held a subordinate\ncommand, afflicted him greatly, and he looked round for some means of\navenging his country's loss on the Turks. He resolved at last to\nendeavour to make a diversion by recommencing the war in Crete; but\nwithout a strong fortress to secure the ammunition and supplies\nnecessary for prosecuting a series of irregular attacks, it was evident\nthat nothing important could be effected. In this difficulty, Kalergy\ndetermined to attack the impregnable island-fortress of Grabusa, as it\nwas known that the strength of the place had induced the Turks to leave\nit with a very small garrison. Kalergy having learned that the greater\npart of this garrison was absent during the day, disguised a few of his\nmen in Turkish dresses, and appeared on the beach at the point from\nwhich the soldiers of the garrison crossed to this island Gibraltar. The\ncommander of Grabusa ordered the boat to transport them over as usual,\nand the Greeks entered the fort before the mistake was discovered. The\nplace was in vain attacked by all the forces of Mohammed Ali; the Greeks\nkept possession of it to the end of the war. The sagacity and courage\ndisplayed by Kalergy in this affair placed him in the rank of the ablest\nof the Greek chiefs.\n\nWhen General Gordon (whose excellent history of the Greek revolution we\nrecommend to our readers{A}) attempted to relieve Athens, then besieged\nby Kutayhi, (Reschid Pasha,) Kalergy and Makriyani commanded divisions\nof the troops which occupied the Piraeus. Subsequently, when Lord\nCochrane and General Church endeavoured to force the Turkish lines,\nKalergy was one of the officers who commanded the advanced division. In\nthe engagement which ensued, his adventures afford an illustration of\nthe singular vicissitudes of Eastern warfare. The Greek troops landed at\nCape Kolias during the night, and pushed forward to within a mile and a\nhalf of the Turkish lines, where they formed a slight intrenchment on\nsome undulating hills. They threw up some ill-constructed tambouria, (as\nthe redoubts used in Turkish warfare are termed,) and of these some\nremains are still visible. A ravine descending from the lower slopes of\nHymettus ran in front of this position, deep enough to shelter the\nTurkish cavalry, and enable them to approach without exposing themselves\nto the Greek artillery. This movement of the Turks was distinctly seen\nfrom the Greek camp at the Piraeus, and the approaching attack on the\nadvanced posts of the army was waited for in breathless anxiety. The map\nof the plain of Athens is sufficiently familiar to most of our readers\nto enable then to picture to themselves the scene which ensued with\nperfect accuracy.\n\nThe Greek troops destined for the relief of Athens amounted to about\n3000 men, and of these about 600 were posted far in advance of their\ncompanions, in three small redoubts. The main body drawn up in a long\nline remained inactive with the artillery, and a smaller corps as a\nrear-guard seemed destined to communicate with the fleet of Lord\nCochrane at Cape Kolias. At the Piraeus, about 700 men were scattered\nabout in all the disorder of an Eastern encampment, without making the\nslightest attempt to distract the attention of the Turkish troops. The\nFrench General Gueheneuc and the Bavarian General Heideck, both\nwitnessed the battle.\n\nThe Turkish cavalry, to the number of about 700, having formed in the\nravine, rode slowly up towards the brow of the hill on which the\ntambouria of the Cretans, the Suliots, and the regular regiment were\nplaced. As soon as their appearance on the crest of the ridge exposed\nthem to the fire of the Greeks, they galloped forward. The fire of the\nGreeks, however, seemed almost without effect, yet the Turks turned and\ngalloped down the hill into the shelter of the ravine. In a short time\nthey repeated their attack with a determination, which showed that the\npreceding attempt had been only a feint to enable them to examine the\nground. As they approached this time very near the intrenchments, the\nfire of the Greeks proved more effectual than on the former occasion,\nand several of the Delhis, horse and man, rolled on the ground. Again\nthe Turks fled to conceal themselves in the ravine, and prepared for\nanother attack by dividing their force into three divisions, one of\nwhich ascended and another descended the ravine, while the third\nprepared to renew the assault in the old direction. The vizier Kutayhi\nhimself moved forward to encourage his troops, and it became evident\nthat a desperate struggle would now be made to carry the Greek\nposition, where the few troops who held it were left unsupported.\n\nThe Turkish cavalry soon rushed on the Greeks, assailing their position\nin front and flanks; and, in spite of their fire, forced the horses over\nthe low intrenchments into the midst of the enemy.{B} For the space of\nhardly three minutes pistol shots and sabre cuts fell so thick, that\nfriends and foes were in equal danger. Of the Greeks engaged not one had\nturned to flee, and but few were taken alive. The loss of the Turks was,\nhowever, but trifling--about a dozen men and from fifteen to twenty\nhorses.\n\nThe centre of the Greek army, on beholding the destruction of the\nadvanced guard, showed little determination; it wavered for a minute,\nand then turned and fled towards the shore in utter confusion,\nabandoning all its artillery to the Turks. The Delhis soon overtook\ntheir flying enemies, and riding amongst them, coolly shot down and\nsabred those whose splendid arms and dresses excited their cupidity. The\nartillery itself was turned on the fugitives, who had left the\nammunition undestroyed as well as the guns unspiked. But our concern\nwith the battle of the 6th May 1827, is at present confined to following\nthe fortunes of Kalergy. He was one of the prisoners. His leg had been\nbroken by a rifle-ball as the Turks entered the tambouri of the Cretans,\nand as he received an additional sabre cut on the arm, he lay helpless\non the ground, where his youthful appearance and splendid arms caught\nthe eye of an Albanian bey, who ordered him to be secured and taken care\nof as his own prisoner.\n\nOn the morning after the battle, the prisoners were all brought out\nbefore the tent of Kutayhi, who was encamped at Patissia, very near the\nsite of the house subsequently built by Sir Pulteney Malcolm. George\nDrakos, a Suliot chief, had killed himself during the night; and the\nPasha, in consequence, ordered all the survivors to be beheaded,\nwishing, probably, to afford Europe a specimen of Ottoman economy and\nhumanity, by thus saving the lives of these Greeks from themselves. Two\nhundred and fifty were executed, when Kalergy, unable to walk, was\ncarried into the circle of Turkish officers witnessing the execution, on\nthe back of a sturdy Albanian baker. Kutayhi calmly ordered his instant\nexecution; but the prisoner having informed his captor that he would pay\n100,000 piastres for his ransom; the Albanian bey stepped forward and\nmaintained his right to his prisoner so stoutly, that the Pasha, whose\narmy was in arrears, and whose military chest was empty, found himself\ncompelled to yield. As a memento of their meeting, however, he ordered\none of Kalergy's ears to be cut off. The ransom was quickly paid, and\nKalergy returned to Poros, where it was some time before he recovered\nfrom his wounds.\n\nCapodistrias on his arrival in Greece named Kalergy his aide-de-camp,\nand as he was much attached to the president, he was entrusted with the\ncommand of the cavalry sent against Poros and Nisi, when those places\ntook up arms against the arbitrary and tyrannical conduct of\nCapodistrias. We are not inclined to apologize for the disorders which\nthe Greek cavalry then committed; they were unpardonable even during the\nexcitement of a civil war.\n\nThe marriage of Kalergy was as romantic as the rest of his career. Two\nchiefs, both of the family of Notaras, (one of the few Greek families\nwhich can boast of territorial influence dating from the times of the\nByzantine empire,) had involved the province of Corinth in civil war, in\norder to secure the hand of a young heiress. The lady, however, having\nescaped from the scene of action, conferred her hand on Kalergy, whose\nfame as a soldier far eclipsed that of the two rivals.\n\nAs soon as the Bavarians arrived in Greece, they commenced persecuting\nKalergy. An unfounded charge of treason was brought against him; but he\nwas honourably acquitted by a court-martial, of which our country-man,\nGeneral Gordon of Cairness, was the president; and from that period\ndown to the publication of the order of the day, last September, he has\nbeen constantly an object of Bavarian hatred.\n\nAbout twenty-four hours before the revolution of the 15th of September\nbroke out, the court of Greece received some information concerning the\nextent and nature of the plot, and orders were given by King Otho to\nhold a council of his trusted advisers. The Bavarians Hess and Graff,\nand the Greeks Rizos, Privilegios, Dzinos, and John the son of Philip,\n(for one of the courtly councillors of the house of Wittelspach rejoices\nin this primitive cognomen,) met, and decided on the establishment of a\ncourt-martial to try and shoot every man taken in arms. Orders were\nimmediately prepared for the arrest of upwards of forty persons.\n\nA good deal has been said about the revolution as having been a mere\nmilitary movement. This, however, is not a correct view of the matter,\neither with reference to the state of parties, or to the intensity of\nthe national feeling at the time. Sir Robert Inglis most justly observed\nin Parliament--\"That revolution in Greece had been prepared during years\nof intolerable despotism, and the soldiery merely shared in, and did not\nby any means lead, the proceedings of the great body of the nation.\" The\nfact is, that a plot for seizing the king and sending him to Trieste,\nhad been formed by the Philorthodox or Russian party, in the early part\nof 1843; but the party, from some distrust of its own strength, and from\nthe increasing unpopularity of King Otho, was induced to admit a few of\nthe most determined of the constitutionalists into the plot, without\nintending to entrust them with the whole of the plan. The rising was at\nlast fixed for the month of September. This occurred in consequence of\nthe universal outcry raised by the Greeks, on finding that the\nrepresentations of Great Britain in favour of the long-promised\nconstitution, and the warnings which Sir Robert Peel threw out on the\ndiscussion of Greek affairs on Mr Cochrane's motion, were utterly\nneglected by King Otho. This indignation was reduced to despair when it\nwas known that Mr Tricoupis, on his recall from London, had assured the\nking that the English cabinet was so determined to maintain the _statu\nquo_, that the constitutional party would meet with no countenance from\nEngland. Every party in Greece then prepared for action, and entered\ninto negotiations, in which the opinions of the constitutionalists\nprevailed, because they were actively supported by the great body of the\npeople.\n\nIn order to prevent the country from becoming a scene of anarchy, in\ncase a civil war proved unavoidable, it was necessary to employ all the\nregular authorities who could be induced to join the national cause, in\ntheir actual functions, without any reference to party feelings. This\nwas done; and the fact that it was so, proves the intenseness of the\npublic feeling. The constitutional party decided that the recognition of\nGreece as a constitutional state, and the immediate convocation of a\nnational assembly, were to be the demands made on King Otho. The Russian\nparty allowed these two questions to be first mooted in the firm\npersuasion that the king would be induced by his own pride, his despotic\nprinciples, and the mistaken views of several of the foreign ministers\nat Athens, to refuse these demands; and, in that case, the throne would\ninfallibly have been declared vacant.\n\nAbout midnight, on the 14th of September, the _gendarmes_ were ordered\nto surround the house of General Makriyani, an officer of irregulars on\nhalf-pay, and to arrest him on a charge of treason. On approaching the\nhouse they were warned off; but pressing forward they were fired on, and\none _gendarme_ was killed and one or two wounded. In consequence of the\nalarm given by the minister of war, for the purpose of supporting the\narrests to be made, the garrison was all in readiness. In the mean time\nthe greater part of the officers had been admitted into the secret, that\na general movement of all Greece was to be made that night, and that\ntheir duty would be to maintain the strictest order and enforce the\nseverest discipline.\n\nKalergy, therefore, as soon as he was informed that the movement had\nbeen made to arrest Makriyani, assembled all the officers, and, in a few\nwords, declared to them that the moment for saving their country from\nthe Bavarian yoke had arrived; and that they must now, if they wished to\nbe free, call on the king to adopt a constitutional system of\ngovernment. The importance of this step, which Kalergy adopted with his\nusual decision, can only be understood when it is recollected, that\nthere existed a strong party determined to avail itself of every\nopportunity of driving King Otho from the throne. Had Kalergy,\ntherefore, delayed pledging the officers and the army to the\nconstitution, or allowed them to march out of their barracks before\nmaking the constitution the rallying word of the revolution, there can\nbe no doubt that the agents of the Russian and Philorthodox parties\nwould have raised the cry of \"Death to the Bavarians! down with the\ntyrant!\" Kalergy, however, put the garrison in motion amidst shouts of\n_Long live the constitution_; and as the cavalry moved from their\nbarracks, these shouts were echoed enthusiastically by the citizens who\nwere waiting anxiously without.\n\nAs soon as Kalergy had taken the command he marched all the troops to\nthe square before the palace. Two squadrons of cavalry, two battalions\nof infantry, a company of Greek irregulars, and a number of half-pay\nofficers and pensioners, were soon drawn up under King Otho's windows.\nHis monstrous palace had begun to produce its effects. Strong patrols\nwere detached to preserve order in the town, and to compel the\n_gendarmes_ to retire to their quarters. Makriyani, on being relieved\nfrom his blockade, repaired to the square, collecting on the way as\nlarge a body of armed citizens as he was able.\n\nThe king had been waiting at one of the windows of the palace in great\nanxiety to witness the arrest of Makriyani; and on seeing the shots\nfired from the house, and the suspension of the attack by the\n_gendarmes_, he had dispatched a Bavarian aide-de-camp, named\nSteinsdorff, to order the artillery to the palace. The young and\ninexperienced Bavarian returned without the guns; but assured his\nMajesty that they would soon arrive. In the mean time, the whole\ngarrison appeared in the square, and was ranged opposite the palace: the\nking, however, expected that the arrival of the artillery would change\ntheir disposition. In a short time, the guns came galloping up; but to\nthe utter dismay of King Otho, they were ranged in battery against the\npalace, while the artillerymen, as soon as the manoeuvre was executed,\ngave a loud shout of \"long live the constitution.\"\n\nHis Majesty, after a long period of profound silence, appeared at a\nwindow of the lower story of the palace, attended by the Bavarian\ncaptain, Hess--the most unpopular man in Greece, unless Dzinos, the\nagent in the celebrated cases of judicial torture, could dispute with\nhim that \"bad eminence.\" One of the servants of the court called for\nGeneral Kalergy in a loud voice; and when he approached the window the\nking asked--\"What is the meaning of this disturbance? What am I to\nunderstand by this parade of the garrison?\" To this Kalergy replied, in\na loud and clear voice, \"The people of Greece and the army desire that\nyour Majesty will redeem the promise that the country should be governed\nconstitutionally.\" King Otho then said, \"Retire to your quarters; I\nshall consult with my ministers, with the council of state, and the\nambassadors of the three protecting powers, and inform you of my\ndetermination.\" This appeared to the audience to be acting the absolute\nsovereign rather too strongly under the circumstances, and a slight\nmovement of the officers, who overheard the king's words, was conveyed\nlike lightning to the troops, so that the king received a distinct reply\nfrom the whole army in a sudden clang of sabres and noise of arms.\nKalergy, however, immediately replied in the same distinct tone in which\nhe had before spoken--\"Sire, neither the garrison of Athens, nor the\npeople will quit this spot, until your Majesty's decisions on the\nproposals of the council of state, which will be immediately laid before\nyou, is known.\" At this moment Captain Hess put himself forward beside\nthe king, and said--\"Colonel Kalergy; that is not the way in which it\nbecomes you to speak to his Majesty.\" But to this ill-timed lesson in\npoliteness Kalergy replied sharply--\"Draw your head back, sir: you and\nsuch as you have brought the king and the country into their present\nunfortunate circumstances. You ought to be ashamed of your conduct.\" The\nBavarian hero at these words disappeared; and this was the last occasion\nin which this champion of Bavarianism appeared in a public character.\n\nAt this time, Count Metaxas, Lieutenant-General Sir Richard Church, and\nMajor-General Londos, members of the council of state, who had been in\nthe square with the troops, were engaged preparing the council for its\nshare in the revolution. At the meeting which took place, Spiro Milios,\nthe commandant of the military school, and an active member of the\nRussian party, was present as a representative of the army. It was\nevident that the council of state comprised three parties. One was\nwilling to support King Otho and the actual system. This party included\nKondouriotis, the president; Tricoupis, the late minister in London; and\na German Greek named Theocharis. Another party was eager to drive King\nOtho from the throne, in order to proceed to the nomination of a regency\npreparatory to the choice of an orthodox prince. We are not sure that\nany individual is now anxious to identify his name with this party. The\nthird party made the demand for a constitution their primary object; and\nas this party was led by Metaxas, Londos, Church, Palamidhis, and\nMansolas, it was soon joined by the majority.\n\nThe meeting was long, and it is said that the conduct of the members was\nmuch more disorderly than that of the people and the troops in the\nsquare; but at last, a proclamation and an oath were drawn up, by which\nthe council of state, the army, and the people, all pledged themselves\nto support the constitution. A committee consisting of Metaxas, Londos,\nand Palamidhis, was also charged to prepare an address to the king,\nrecommending his majesty to convoke a national assembly, in order to\nprepare a constitution for the state; at the same time they invited his\nmajesty to appoint new ministers, and in the list presented they of\ncourse took care to insert their own names. As soon as this business was\nterminated, the council dispatched a deputation to wait on his majesty,\nconsisting of the president and five members, who were to obtain the\nking's consent.\n\nThe conduct of King Otho on receiving this deputation was neither wise\nnor firm. He delayed returning any answer for two hours, and attempted\nto open a negotiation with the council of state, by means of one of the\nmembers of the camarilla. The delay excited some distrust even among the\nbest disposed in the square, and the report was spread that the king was\nendeavouring to communicate with the _corps diplomatique_, in order to\ncreate a diversion. At this very time a train of carriages suddenly\nappeared at the gates of the palace, and the ministers of the three\nprotecting powers--Sir Edmund Lyons, Mr Katakazy, and Mr Piscatory,\naccompanied by General Prokesch d'Osten, and Mr Brassier de St Simon,\nthe representatives of Austria and Prussia--requested to be admitted to\nsee the king. General Kalergy, however, declared that he had orders to\nrefuse all entry to the palace, until his majesty had terminated his\nconference with the deputation of the council of state; and repeated, in\nthe presence of the ministers of Austria and Prussia, the assurance he\nhad given at an early hour of the morning to Sir Edmund Lyons, Mr\nKatakazy, and Mr Piscatory, that the greatest respect would be shown to\nthe person of his majesty. Mr Katakazy, the _doyen_ of the _corps\ndiplomatique_, satisfied that any parade of foreign interference could\nonly increase the difficulties of the king's position, accepted the\nanswer of Kalergy and began to withdraw. The representatives of the\npowers which had never protected Greece, deemed the moment favourable\nfor a display of a little independent diplomacy, and accordingly the\nPrussian minister asked Kalergy in a tone, neither mild nor low, if he\ndurst refuse to admit him to see his majesty. To this Kalergy, who was\nextremely anxious to avoid any dispute with the foreign ministers at\nsuch a moment, politely replied that he was compelled to refuse even\nthe minister of Prussia. Mr Brassier, however, returned to the charge\naided by his Austrian colleague; but as the Greeks place all Germans in\nthe category of Bavarians, they gave some manifestations of their\ndislike to any German interference, which could not be otherwise than\ndispleasing to the Prussian, who addressed Kalergy in a very rough tone.\nHis words were lost to the spectators, but they were supported by\nGeneral Prokesch d'Osten with a good deal of gesticulation. The patience\nof Kalergy gave way under these repeated attacks, and he turned to Mr\nBrassier, saying--\"Monsieur le ministre, you are generally unlucky in\nyour advice, and I am afraid his majesty has heard too much of it\nlately.\"\n\nThe thrust was a home one, and the Prussian minister, rather\ndiscomposed, addressed himself to Sir Edmund Lyons, who, while waiting\ntill his carriage drew up, had been quietly contemplating the scene, and\nsaid--\"Colonel Kalergy is insolent; but he only repeats what he has\nheard in the drawing-rooms of Athens.\" Sir Edmund Lyons replied--\"I do\nnot see, Mr Brassier, how that makes your case better,\" and withdrew to\nhis carriage, leaving Austria and Prussia to battle out their dispute\nwith Greece in the presence of the mob. The spectators considered the\nscene a very amusing one, for they laughed heartily as the _corps\ndiplomatique_ retired; but, if all the reports current in diplomatic\ncircles be true, Mr Katakazy, the _doyen_ of the Athenian diplomatists,\nwas made to suffer severely for his prudent conduct; for it is said that\nhis recall took place because he did not support with energy the foolish\nattempt of his enterprising colleagues. It is certain that any very\nviolent support given to any feeling, in direct hostility to the\nnational cause at the time, could hardly have failed to vacate the\nthrone, or at least to push the people on to commit some disorders, of\nwhich the Russian court, and the friends of despotism at Vienna and\nBerlin, might have taken advantage.\n\nThe king, finding at last that there was no hope of his deriving any\nassistance from without, signed the ordinances appointing a new\nministery, and convoking a national assembly. The troops, after having\nremained more than thirteen hours under arms, were marched back to their\nbarracks, as if from a review; and every thing at Athens followed its\nusual course. Thus was a revolution effected in the form of government\nin Greece without any interruption in the civil government--without the\ntribunals' ceasing to administer justice for a single day--without the\nshops' remaining closed beyond the usual hours, or the mercantile\naffairs of the country undergoing the slightest suspension. Such a\npeople must surely be fit for a constitution.\n\nThe national assembly has now met, and terminated its labours; and\nGreece is in possession of a constitution made by Greeks. In three\nmonths the first representative chamber will meet. It will consist of\nabout 120 members. The senate, which is to consist of members named by\nthe king for life, cannot exceed one-half the number of the\nrepresentatives elected by the people. Faults may be found with some of\nthe details of the constitution; but, on the whole, it must be regarded\nas a very favourable specimen of the political knowledge of the Greeks;\nand the manner in which the different articles were discussed, and the\ncare with which every proposal and amendment were examined, gave all\nthose who witnessed the debates a very high opinion of the legislative\ncapacity of the people.\n\nThe form of the Greek government, as a constitutional monarchy, may now\nbe considered as settled. We shall therefore proceed to examine the\ndifficulties, of a social and political nature, which still obstruct the\nadvancement of the nation, and render its prosperity problematical. Some\nof our statements may appear almost paradoxical to travellers, whose\nhasty glance at distant countries enables them to come to rather more\npositive conclusions than those who devote years to study the same\nsubject. We shall, however, strive to expose our facts in such a way as\nto show that we state the plain truth, nothing but the truth, and, as\nfar as our subject carries us, the whole truth.\n\nThat Greece has not hitherto improved, either in her wealth, population,\nor civilization, as fast as the energy of her people led her friends to\nexpect would be the case after she was freed from the Turks, is\nuniversally admitted. The great bar to improvement exists in an evil\nrooted in the present frame of social life, but fortunately one which\ngood and just government would gradually remove. In Greece there is no\nclear and definite idea of the sacred right of property in land. The god\nTerminus is held in no respect. No Greek, from the highest to the\nlowest, understands the meaning of that absolute right of property\n\"which,\" as Blackstone says, \"consists in the free use, enjoyment, and\ndisposal by every Englishman of all his acquisitions, without control or\ndiminution, save only by the laws of the land.\"\n\nThe appropriation of Mr Finlay's land by King Otho, without measurement,\nvaluation, or payment, to make a garden for his palace--the formation of\na great road leading to the French minister's house, by the municipality\nof Athens, without indemnifying the owners of the land, though a road\nsufficiently good already existed--and the confiscation of half the\nestates purchased by foreigners from the Turks by Maurocordatos, when\nMinister of Finance under the Bavarian Regency, in a ministerial\ncircular deciding on rights of property, are mere trifling examples of\nthe universal spirit. When Maurocordatos wrote his memorable\ndeclaration, \"that every spot where wild herbs, fit for the pasturage of\ncattle, grow, is national property, and that the Greek government\nrecognises no individual property in the soil except the exclusive right\nof cultivation,\" he only, in deference to the Bavarian policy of the\ntime, which wished to copy Mohammed Ali's administration in Egypt,\ncaricatured a misconception of the right of property equally strong in\nevery Greek, whether he be the oppressor or the oppressed. Even the late\nNational Assembly has not thought it necessary to correct any of the\ninvasions of private property by the preceding despotism. Individuals,\nalmost ruined by the plunder of their land, have not even received the\noffer of an indemnity, though the justice of their claims is not\ndenied.{C}\n\nThe origin of this national obtuseness of mind on a question of\ninterest, is to be found in the system of taxing the land. A Greek\nreally views land somewhat as English labourers view game. The owner of\nthe soil is absolute proprietor only during those months in which he is\nengaged in the labours of preparing the land and sowing the seed. As\nsoon as the harvest time arrives, he ceases to be master of his estate,\nand sinks into the condition of a serf of the revenue officer, or of the\nfarmer of the land revenue. It is true, that the government tax only\namounts to a tenth of the gross produce of the soil; but, in virtue of\nthis right to a tenth, government assumes the entire direction of all\nthe agricultural operations relating to the crops, and the cultivator's\nnine-tenths (for it is really a misnomer to call him proprietor) become\na mere adjunct of the government tenth.\n\nMany of our readers, who are unacquainted with Eastern life, may suppose\nthat we colour our picture too strongly. In order, therefore, to divest\nour statement of all ornament, we shall describe the whole of the events\nof an agricultural year. Our classic readers will then comprehend\npractically how the vulture could feast on the perpetually growing heart\nof Prometheus--why Tantalus tempted the gods by murdering Pelops--and\nthey will see that the calamities of the Theban race are an allegorical\nrepresentation of the inevitable fate which awaits a people groaning\nunder the system of taxation now in force in Greece.\n\nThe tenths in Greece are usually farmed to speculators, and, as the\ncollection is a matter of difficulty, extraordinary powers are conferred\non the farmers; hence it happens, that the social position of the\ncultivators and the farmers is one of constant hostility. If the\ncultivator has it in his power, he cheats the farmer of the revenue,\nand if the farmer is able to do so he cheats the cultivator. The result\nis, that probably not one individual in the Greek kingdom really pays\nthe exact tenth of the produce of his land. A few of the most active\nrogues contrive to cheat the farmers of the revenue; but these\ngentlemen, in virtue of the great powers with which the law invests\nthem, contrive to cheat the greater part of the proprietors. As soon as\nthe grain is ripe, the cultivator is compelled to address himself to the\ntax-farmer for permission to cut his crop; but as the farmer must keep a\nvery sharp look-out after his interest, he only grants such permissions\nas accord with the arrangements he may have established for watching the\ncultivators at the smallest possible expense to himself, making the\nover-ripeness of the crop of the majority a very secondary\nconsideration. It happens, consequently, that in Greece two-thirds of\nthe grain are not gathered until it is over-ripe, and the loss is\nconsequently very great.\n\nWhen the grain is cut, it must be carried to a certain number of\nauthorized threshing-floors collected together, in order that the tax\nfarmer may take every possible care to secure his tenth. To these\nthreshing-floors the whole grain of a district must be transported from\nthe fields in the straw, though the straw may be wanted as fodder for\ncattle at the very spot from which it is taken, and will require to be\ncarried back a very great distance. An immense loss of grain and labour\nis sustained by this regulation; but it is a glorious season for the\ndonkeys;--long trains of these animals, lively under their heavy loads\nof sheaves, may be seen galloping one after the other, each endeavouring\nto seize a mouthful from his neighbour. The roads are strewed with grain\nand the broken-hearted cultivators follow, cursing man and beast.\n\nThe grain is at last collected in immense stacks round the\nthreshing-floors--a cultivator perched on the top of each stack,\ndefending it from the attacks of man and beast; and a tax-gatherer,\nseated with his pipe cross-legged in the middle of the circle, is\nwatching the manoeuvres of the cultivators. No person who has not\nexamined the subject with attention can imagine the scenes of fraud and\nviolence which a Greek harvest produces. The grain is usually kept piled\nround the threshing-floors under various pretexts, for at least two\nmonths, unless the cultivator pay the farmer an additional sum, to\nfacilitate the housing of his crops. Even in the vicinity of Athens, the\noperations of the wheat and barley harvest generally occupy the\nexclusive attention of the agricultural population for three months. The\ngrain is trodden out by cattle; and a Greek who bought a winnowing\nmachine at Athens, was not allowed to make use of it, as the farmers of\nthe revenue contended that the introduction of such instruments would\nfacilitate frauds.\n\nThe farmers of the tenths likewise increase the evils of this ruinous\nsystem, by throwing every difficulty in the way of the cultivators, in\norder to compel them to consent to pay for each facility they may\nrequire. We have known regular contracts entered into with the\npeasantry, by which they agreed to pay from 3 to 5 per cent more than\nthe legal tenth. We believe no honest man ever paid less than from 12 to\n13 per cent on his crop, even in the neighbourhood of the capital. It\nmay be supposed that some redress can be obtained, in cases of gross\noppression, by applying to the courts of law; but this is not the case.\nA special tribunal, consisting of administrative officers of the Crown,\nand municipal authorities, and from which lawyers have been always\ncarefully excluded, is appointed to judge summarily all cases relating\nto the tenths. The infamous conduct of these administrative tribunals\nexcited general discontent, and an article has been inserted in the\nconstitution abolishing them, and sending all the pending cases to the\nordinary courts of law. Government, however, defended them to the last,\nand even pressed for decisions down to the very hour in which King Otho\ntook his oath to the constitution. There is here, however, some ground\nfor consolation; for it is clear that the Greek ministers fear the\nordinary administration of justice as being above their control.\n\nIt is needless to say, that under such laws the improvement of\nagriculture in Greece is impossible. No green crops can be grown with\nprofit at any distance from a large town. The tenth of garden produce\nand green crops being generally valued and paid for in money, the\ndisputes concerning the valuation, and the impossibility of obtaining\nany redress, in case of injustice, have induced the cultivators to give\nup such cultivation. We have known proprietors pay half the value of a\ncrop of potatoes as the value of the tenth; and in one case, on our\nasking the farmer of the tenths, who after all was not a bad fellow at\nheart, though he wished to make his farming of the revenues turn out a\ngood speculation in his hands, what he would recommend a proprietor to\ndo in order not to lose money by cultivating potatoes; he looked grave,\nand after a few moments' thought, candidly replied--\"Never to plant them\nas long as the present law remains in force!\" Vineyards which have been\nplanted with care, and cultivated for eight years, have been lately\nabandoned, as the high valuation of their produce renders them\nunprofitable. The only agriculture which can be pursued in Greece\nwithout loss, is that in which only the simplest and rudest methods of\ncultivation are followed. The land only yields a rent when it is in the\nimmediate vicinity of a large market, or when it is of the richest\nquality; the employment of capital in improvements only opens new\nchannels for the extortions of the farmers of the revenue. No money can\nbe safely invested on mortgage in such a country, and no loans by the\nThree Allied powers to the Government, no national bank, no manufactory\nof beet-root sugar, no model farms, and no schools of agriculture can\nintroduce prosperity into a country taxed in such a manner.\n\nWe do not intend to discuss any plan for ameliorating the condition of\nthe Greeks; but we can easily point out what it is necessary for them to\ndo before they can, by any possibility, better their condition. The\nsystem of selling the tenths must be abolished; for a government so\ninefficient as to be unable to collect them by its own officers, is\nincompetent to perform the functions for which it was created, and ought\nto be destroyed. The owners of the land must be rendered the real\nmasters of their property. They must be allowed to reap their crops when\nthey are ripe, and to thresh their grain when and where they please.\nUntil this is the case, we can assure the Three Protecting Powers, they\ncount without the people if they suppose that they have established a\npermanent monarchy in Greece. We do not hesitate to say that the royal\ndignity, even with the support of England and France, is not worth ten\nyears' purchase until this is accomplished.\n\nEvery traveller who visits Greece declaims against the number of\ncoffee-houses throughout the country, and the hosts of idle people with\nwhich they are filled. But nothing else can be expected in a country\nwhere the system of agriculture keeps the cultivators idle for three\nmonths annually, and deprives the proprietor of all profit from his\nland. Under such circumstances the demand for labour becomes extremely\nirregular. Many of the lower classes turn brigands and plunder their\nneighbours; the educated and higher classes turn government _employes_\nand plunder the country. This evil has arrived at an alarming pitch; the\nGreek army contains almost as many officers as privates; the navy has\nofficers enough to man a fleet twice as large as that which Greece\npossesses, for she has three admirals, a hundred and fifty captains, and\ntwo hundred and seventy commanders. It has been in vain pressed on every\nsuccessive administration, that a list of the army, navy, and civil\n_employes_ ought to be published, in order to put an end to the shameful\nsystem of jobbing which has always existed. No minister would, however,\nadopt a principle which would so effectually have put an end to his own\narbitrary power of quartering his friends and relations on the public.\nThe loans of the three powers might be doubled to-morrow, and it is\nevident that, unless all the population of Greece were made pensioners,\nno surplus would be found to employ for any public improvement.\n\nIndeed the national revenues of the Greek kingdom, as of old those of\nAthens and Rome, seem to be considered the property of that body of\ncitizens who pursue no useful occupation, and possess no taxable\nproperty; while the unlucky proprietors are viewed as a species of\nserfs, existing to supply a revenue to the state. This political\nprinciple has been exemplified in a decree of the late national\nassembly, excluding every Greek or foreigner from public employment who\nhappens not to be a born subject of the new kingdom, or who did not take\npart in the war against the Turks before the end of 1827, and perhaps\neven more strongly in a very unconstitutional private vote of a\ncommittee of the whole house, giving 800 drachmas to each member--this\nvote being in direct violation of one of the articles of the\nconstitution, which requires that all grants of money should originate\nfrom the crown. We do not deny the necessity of allowing the deputies\nthis small grant; many of them were poor, and their conduct had been\ndisinterested; but we are bound to complain of the slightest infraction\nof constitutional principles by those who frame a constitution.\n\nThe length of this article compels us to leave a few observations we\ndesire to make on the municipal government of the Greeks, and on the\nstate of education, and of their judicial and ecclesiastical affairs, to\nanother opportunity. The late debates in the House of Commons, and the\nable statement which Sir Robert Peel gave of the principles of our\npolicy with regard to Greece, render it unnecessary for us to say one\nword on that subject. We can assure our readers that the policy of our\npresent ministers has been applauded by every party in Greece, except\nthe Philorthodox; and they, as they could find no fault, remained\nsilent. We believe that no two governments ever acted more\ndisinterestedly to a third than Great Britain end France have lately\ndone to Greece, and that no ministers ever acted more fairly, in any\ninternational question, than Lord Aberdeen and M. Guizot have done on\nthe subject of the Greek revolution; but for this very reason we feel\ninclined to warn our countrymen against the leaven of old principles,\nwhich still exists in the palace at Athens. Let us judge of the new\ngovernment of Greece by its acts, and let Great Britain and France\nremember that they are not looked on without some suspicion.\n\n    +Enesti gar pos touto te tyrannidi\n    Nosema, tois philoisi me pepoithenai+.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n{A} 2 vols. 8vo. Edinburgh, 1832.\n\n{B} The tambouria are always constructed with the ditch in the inside,\nin order that they may afford a better cover from artillery.\n\n{C} One English sufferer has for several years vainly attacked the king\nfor justice, even with the assistance of the English Minister in Greece\nand the Foreign Office at home.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX TO VOL. LV.\n\n\nAborigines of New Holland, the, 193.\n\nAchilles Tatius, account of his romance of Clitophon and Leucippe, 33.\n\nActual condition of the Greek state, the, 785.\n\nAden, the British position of, 272.\n\nAdventures in Texas.--No. III. the Struggle, 18.\n\nAdventures of Clitophon and Leucippe, the, 33.\n\nAfrica, ignorance of the interior of, 269.\n\nAfrica--the Slave Trade--and Tropical Colonies, 730\n  various expeditions to explore, 731\n  its principal rivers, and countries watered by them, 734.\n\nAgriculture, causes of the decline of, in the Roman empire, 391.\n\nAmeer Ali, a Thug, account of, 326.\n\nAmeers of Scinde, case of the, 580.\n\nAnti-corn-law League, measures of the, 121.\n\nAncient Greek romances--Clitophon and Leucippe, 33.\n\nArabs of Cordova, sketch of the history of the, 431.\n\nAustralia, statistics of the various colonies of, 184.\n\n\nBanking in Australia, on, 186.\n\nBanking-House, the, a history in three part. Part III. Chap. I., Symptoms\n    of rottenness, 50\n  Chap. II., A meeting, 56\n  Chap. III., A chapter of loans, 61\n  Chap. IV., A dissolution of partnership, 65\n  Chap. V., The crisis, 69\n  Chap. VI., The crash, 75\n  Chap. VII., The vicarage, 79.\n\nBeau Brummell, Jesse's memoirs of, reviewed, 769.\n\nBeauclerk, Topham, 182.\n\nBeke, Dr. T. C., his travels in Africa, 740.\n\nBelfront castle, a retrospective review, 334.\n\nBenton, Mr, on the treaty of Washington, 112.\n\nBewailment from Bath, a, or Poor Old Maids, 199.\n\nBristol, the Earl of, 180.\n\nBritish fleet, the, 462.\n\nBrummell, Jesse's memoirs of, reviewed, 769.\n\nBumbo Khan, sketch of, 223.\n\nBundelcund, Colonel Davidson's travels in, 325.\n\n\nCanadian insurgents, trials of the, 3.\n\nCatholicism, effects of in Ireland, 520.\n\nChartists, state trials of the, in 1842, 5.\n\nCheap labour and cheap bread, connection of, 125.\n\nChudleigh, Miss, career of, 180.\n\nChurch of Scotland, the secession from the, 221.\n\nChurkaree, town of, 327.\n\nCirculating libraries, on, 556.\n\nCirculating medium of Great Britain, amount of the, 388.\n\nClitophon and Leucippe, account of the romance of, 33.\n\nCobden, Mr, on the effects of corn-law repeal, 125.\n\nColonies, importance of, to England, 740.\n\nColumbus, a poem, by B. Simmons, 687.\n\nConservatism, advance of, since the passing of the reform bill, 103\n  as exhibited by the general elections, 104.\n\nCordova, history of the Moorish kingdom of, 431.\n\nCorn-law, the new, and its effects, 116.\n\nCorn-laws, on the, 385\n  viewed in connexion with the manufacturing distress, 105\n  effects of their repeal on wages, &c., 125.\n\nCorn question, letter from Lemuel Gulliver on the, 98\n  Sir Robert Peel on the, 106.\n\nCrime, the increase of, 533\n  table of it since 1805, 534\n  not attributable to its surer detection by a more efficient police, 535\n  nor to defects in the law, 540\n  nor to deficiency in education, 541\n  its diminution in India and France, 538.\n\nCry from Ireland, review of the, 638.\n\nCustoms revenue, improvement of the, since the new tariff, 114.\n\n\nDavidson's travels in India, review of, 321.\n\nDelta, lines by, on the snow, 617.\n\nDhacca, account of the city of, 331.\n\nDifficulties of the present government on its accession, the, 108.\n\nDiligence, the, a leaf on a journal, 692.\n\nDisruption of the Scottish church, the, 221.\n\nDublin state trials, the, 1.\n\nDuelling in Germany, 555.\n\nDumas, Alexander; thrush-hunting, a tale by, 150\n  extracts from his work on Italy, 347\n  and from his Rhine and Rhinelanders, 546.\n\n\nEducation, statistics of, with reference to crime, 541.\n\nElections, results of the, since 1832, 104.\n\nEllenborough, Lord, his Indian policy, 113.\n\nEmigration to Australia, letter on, 184\n  from Africa, on, 745.\n\nEngland, efforts made by, in favour of free trade, 261.\n\nEthiopia, Harris's Highlands of, reviewed, 269.\n\nEurope, diminution of, British exports to, 263.\n\nEusebius, letter to, on sitting for a portrait, 243.\n\nExports, diminution of, to Europe, 263.\n\n\nFairies' Sabbath, the, a tradition of Upper Lusatia, 665.\n\nFireman's Song, the, 101.\n\nForeign policy of the government, the, 111.\n\nFrance, increased commercial restrictions of, 261\n  statistics of crime in, 538.\n\nFreethinker, the, a tale, 593.\n\nFree trade and protection, on, 259\n  efforts made by England to introduce free trade, 261\n  protective system pursued by France, Germany, &c., _ib._\n  true principles of, 268. No. II.\n  The corn-laws, 385\n  failure of the reciprocity system, _ib._\n  comparison of a young and old state as to manufacturing and agricultural\n    productiveness, 386\n  effects of free trade on the Roman empire, 391\n  impracticability of that system, 396\n  and its inexpediency, 397.\n\nFrost and others, the trials of, 4.\n\n\nGama, circumnavigation of Africa, by, 271.\n\nGeneral elections, results of the, since 1832, 104.\n\nGermany Customs League, the, 262.\n\nGermany, Dumas in, 546.\n\nGil Blas, on the authorship of, 698.\n\nGlum, Tabitha, letter from, 199.\n\nGoethe, lines to, 380.\n\nGopal, a Hindu robber, account of, 326.\n\nGovernment, position and prospects of the, 103.\n\nGreece, the actual condition of, 785.\n\nGreek romances, the ancient: Clitophon and Leucippe, 33.\n\nGulliver, letter from, on the corn question, 98.\n\nGunnings, career of the, 176.\n\nGwalior, history and present state of, 579.\n\n\nHackman, murder of Miss Ray, by, 178.\n\nHarris's Highlands of Ethiopia, review of, 269\n  notices of it, 730.\n\nHawash river, the, 277.\n\nHenley, orator, notices of, 171.\n\nHeretic, the, a novel translated from the Russian of Lajetchnikoff, review\n    of, 133.\n\nHervey, Captain, 180.\n\nHigh life in the last century, 164.\n\nHill's Fifty days on board a Slave vessel, review of, 425.\n\nHome policy of the government, the, 110.\n\nHurdwar, account of the fair of, 324.\n\nHuskisson, Mr, first attempts to introduce the free trade system, 262.\n\nHydrabad, battle at, 580.\n\nHymn of a hermit, the, 382.\n\n\nImprisonment and transportation--No. I.; the increase of crime, 533.\n\nIncrease of crime, the, since 1808, 534\n  not attributable to greater number of detections, 535\n  nor to defect in the law, 540\n  nor to deficiency of education, 541.\n\nIndia, Colonel Davidson's travels in, review of, 321\n  diminution of crime in, 538.\n\nIndian affairs, Gwalior, 579.\n\nIreland, its present position, and effects of the government measures\n    on, 127\n  its present state, and policy of ministers, 518\n  objections brought against the ministerial measures, 519\n  defence of them, 524\n  the landlord and tenant question, 638.\n\nIrish state trials, the, 1.\n\n\nJ. S., poems by; the Olympic Jupiter, 378\n  a Roman idyl, 379\n  Goethe, 380\n  hymn of a hermit, 382\n  the luckless lover, 383.\n\nJervis, Sir John, career of, 465.\n\nJesse's Memoirs and Correspondence of George Selwyn, review of, 164\n  of George Brummell, 769.\n\n\nKalergy, General, sketch of the life of, 785.\n\nKieff, a poem, translated from the Russian of Ivan Kozloff, by T. B.\n    Shaw, 80.\n\nKingston, the Duchess of, 180.\n\nKrapf, Mr, notices of his mission to Africa, 730.\n\n\nLabour, gradual reduction in the cost of, in Great Britain, 125.\n\nLahore, revolution at, 581.\n\nLajetchnikoff, the Heretic by, reviewed, 133.\n\nLanarkshire, statistics of crime in, and its police, 537, 539.\n\nLand of slaves, the, a poem, 257.\n\nLandlord and tenant question in Ireland, the, 638.\n\nLarresse on Portrait Painting, extracts from, 246.\n\nLaw, administration of the, in India, 333.\n\nLazzaroni of Naples, anecdotes of the, 354.\n\nLeague, measures of the, 121.\n\nLemuel Gulliver, letter from, to the editor, 98.\n\nLe Sage not the author of Gil Blas, 698.\n\nLetter from an exiled contributor, 184.\n\nLiterature, the monster misery of, 556.\n\nLlorente, M. on the authorship of Gil Blas, 698.\n\nLorgnon; a word or two of the opera-tive classes by, 292.\n\nLove in the wilderness. Chap. I., 621\n  Chap. II., 624\n  Chap. III., 627\n  Chap. IV., 631\n  Chap. V., 635.\n\nLuckless lover, the, a poem, 383.\n\nLusatia, traditions and tales of; No. I., the Fairies' Sabbath, 665.\n\n\nMahratta war, origin, &c., of the, 584.\n\nManufacturing distress, Sir Robert Peel on the causes of the, 105.\n\nMarston, or, Memoirs of a Statesman. Part VII., 81\n  Part VIII., 202\n  Part IX., 362\n  Part X., 483\n  Part XI., 561.\n\nMeeanee, battle of, 580.\n\nMelbourne in Australia, letter from, with account of the colony, &c., 184.\n\nMemoirs of a Statesman--_see_ Marston.\n\nMemoirs of Earl St Vincent, review of, 462.\n\nMexico, two nights in, 449.\n\nMichael Kalliphournas, a tale, 725.\n\nMonster misery of literature, the, 556.\n\nMonmouthshire rioters, trial of the, 4.\n\nMoslem histories of Spain; the Arabs of Cordova, 431.\n\nMy friend; a poem, 256.\n\n\nNaples, account of, by Dumas, 347.\n\nNarration of certain uncommon things that did formerly happen to me,\n    Herbert Willis, B. D., 749.\n\nNelson, notices of the early services of, 477.\n\nNew art of printing, by a designing devil, 45.\n\nNews from an exiled contributor, a letter from New Holland, 184.\n\nNon-intrusionists, secession of the, from church of Scotland, 221.\n\n\nO'Connell and others, trial of, 1\n  his trial in 1831, 3\n  his present trial and demeanour during it, 7\n  his probable policy in agitating for Repeal, 128.\n\nO'Connor, Fergus, state prosecutions of, 6.\n\nOlympic Jupiter, the, a poem, 378.\n\nOpera-tive classes, a word or two of the, 292.\n\nOude, a sporting excursion to, 329.\n\nOxford, trial of, 5.\n\n\nPeel, Sir Robert, on the progress of Conservatism, 103, 104\n  on the causes of the manufacturing distress, 105\n  defence of his conduct on the corn-law question, 107.\n\nPhenicians, circumnavigation of Africa by the, 271.\n\nPirates of Segna, the, a tale of Venice and the Adriatic. Part I. Chap. I.,\n    The Studio, 299\n  Chap. II., The Cavern, 303\n  Chap. III., The Jewels, 310\n  Chap. IV., The Ball, 316.\n  Part II. Chap. I., The Battle of the Bridge, 401\n  Chap. II., The Picture, 409\n  Chap. III., The Pirates, 415\n  Chap. IV., The Recognition, 421.\n\nPoetry:--Kieff, from the Russian of Kozloff, 80\n  The Proclamation, 100\n  the Fireman's Song, 101\n  The Prophecy of the Twelve Tribes, 196\n  My Friend, 256\n  The Land of Slaves, 257\n  the Priest's Burial, _ib._\n  Prudence, 258\n  The Olympic Jupiter, 378\n  A Roman Idyl, 379\n  Goethe, 380\n  Hymn of a Hermit, 382\n  The Luckless Lover, 383\n  The Snow, by Delta, 617\n  Columbus, by B. Simmons, 687\n  To Swallows on the eve of departure, by the same, 690.\n\nPolice, repugnance to assessment for, 536.\n\nPoor old maids, a bewailment from Bath, 199.\n\nPorter, Mr, on the decrease of our European exports, 263.\n\nPortrait painting, in a letter to Eusebius, 213.\n\nPortugal, restrictive commercial system adopted by, 262.\n\nPortuguese, circumnavigation of Africa by the, 271.\n\nPosition and Prospects of the government, on the: its position on the\n    secession of the Whigs, 103\n  advance of Conservatism since the passing of the Reform Bill, _ib._\n  the manufacturing distress, 105\n  the sugar and corn question, 106\n  difficulties with which it had to contend, 108\n  its home policy, and what it has done, 110\n  its foreign policy, 111\n  the new tariff and corn-law, 113\n  results of its measures in the revival of trade, tranquillity, &c., 120\n  its measures with reference to Ireland, 127.\n\nPriest's burial, the, a poem, 257.\n\nPrinting, the new art of, by a designing devil, 45.\n\nProclamation, the, 100.\n\nProphecy of the twelve tribes, the, poem, 196.\n\nProsecution, the State, 1.\n\nPrudence, a poem, 258.\n\n\nRampore, city of, 322.\n\nRay, Miss, murder of, by Hackman, 178,\n\nRebeccaites, trials of the, 6.\n\nReciprocity system, effect of, in diminishing the exports to Europe, 263\n  failure of the, 385.\n\nRepeal agitation, the, 128.\n\nRevenue, improvement of the, 114.\n\nReviews: the Heretic, 133\n  George Selwyn and his contemporaries, 164\n  Harris's Highlands of Ethiopia, 269\n  Davidson's Travels in India, 321\n  Hill's Fifty days on board a Slave Ship, 425\n  Tucker's Memoirs of Earl St Vincent, 462\n  Cry from Ireland, 638\n  Jesse's memoirs of Beau Brummell, 769.\n\nRhine, the, and Rhinelanders, 546.\n\nRigby, Richard, notices of, 172.\n\nRoman empire, effects of free trade on the, 391.\n\nRoman Idyl, a, 379.\n\n\nSahela Selassee, King of Abyssinia, British mission to, 282.\n\nSt Vincent, Earl, Tucker's Memoirs of, reviewed, 462.\n\nSandwich, Lord, notices of, 177.\n\nScinde, subjugation of, by the British, 580.\n\nSegna, Pirates of--_see_ Pirates.\n\nSelim, Captain, expedition under, to explore Central Africa, 731.\n\nSelwyn and his contemporaries, review of, 164.\n\nShaw, T. B., translation of Kieff, a poem, from the Russian by, 80\n  review of his translation of the Heretic, 133.\n\nShoa, mission to the kingdom of, 275.\n\nSimmons, B., poems by:--Columbus, 687\n  To swallows on the eve of departure, 690.\n\nSindiah, history of the house of, 582.\n\nSitting for a portrait, on, in a letter to Eusebius, 243.\n\nSlave trade, the, 425, 730, 741.\n\nSliding scale, effects of the, 119.\n\nSnow, the, a poem by Delta, 617.\n\nSong of the Fireman, the, 101.\n\nSouthern Mexico, two nights in, 449.\n\nSpain, condition of, under the Arabs of Cordova, 431.\n\nSpeculation in grain, diminution of, under the new corn law, 118.\n\nState prosecutions, comparison of, in ancient and modern times, 1\n  that of O'Connell in 1831, 3\n  those of the Canadian insurgents, _ib._\n  of the Monmouthshire rioters, 4\n  of Oxford, 5\n  of the Chartists in 1842, _ib._\n  of the Welsh rioters, 6\n  the present, of O'Connell and others, for conspiracy, 7.\n\nStatesman, memoirs of a--_see_ Marston.\n\nStruggle in Texas, the, 18.\n\nSugar question, Sir Robert Peel on the, 106.\n\nSwallows on the eve of departure, address to, by B. Simmons, 690.\n\n\nTariff, the new, and its results, 113.\n\nTatius, Achilles, account of his romance, Clitophon and Leucippe, 33.\n\nTexas, adventures in. No. III.; the struggle, 18.\n\nThrush-hunting, a tale; by Alexander Dumas, 150.\n\nTraditions and tales of Upper Lusatia. No. I., The Fairies' Sabbath, 665.\n\nTropical colonies, on, 730, 741.\n\nTucker's Memoirs of Earl St Vincent, review of, 462.\n\nTwelve tribes, prophecy of the, a poem, 196.\n\nTwo nights in Southern Mexico, a fragment from the journal of an American\n    traveller, 449.\n\nTwo patrons, the, a tale. Chapter I., 500\n  Chap. II., 503\n  Chap. III., 505\n  Chap. IV., 509\n  Chap. V., 511\n  Chap. VI., 514\n  Chap. VII., 515.\n\n\nVardarelli, account of the, 358.\n\n\nWages, gradual reduction of, in Great Britain, 125.\n\nWashington, the treaty of, 112.\n\nWelsh rioters, trial of the, 6.\n\nWho wrote Gil Blas? 698.\n\nWiggins' Cry from Ireland, review of, 638\n\nWilliam, John, letter from, to the editor, 184.\n\nWilliams, Sir Charles Hanbury, 174\n  Gilly, 175.\n\nWillis, Herbert, B. D., narration of, 749.\n\nWord or two of the opera-tive classes, a, 292.\n\n\nEND OF VOL. LV.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n_Edinburgh: Printed by Ballantyne and Hughes, Paul's Work._","title":"Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine - Volume 55, No. 344, June, 1844","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":94409}