HE-S1ftR;^-C!E-0Ut\- UVSS-p^K'Y^B^JD^Ji:

COJ>lDUCTED-BY'

VKITR WHICH IS IflCOl^QI^TED "^ 3lQlfS£H0LD'V0iy)S " SATURDAY, OCTOBER 13, -ill r beginning, or the real novel readers wiU IS HE POPEWOY? not like it. The plan of jumping at once BY ANTHONT TROLLOPE. into the middle has been often tried, and sometimes seductively enough for a chapter or two; but the writer still has to hark CHAPIEE I. INTEODUCTOBT—^mJMBEE ONE. back, and to begin again from the begin­ I WOULD that it were possible so to tell ning—not always very comfortably after a story, that a reader should beforehand the abnormal brightness of his few opening know every detail of it up to a certain pages; and the reader, who is then in­ point, or be so circumstanced that he volved in some ancient family history, or might be auppoaed to know. In telling long local explanation, feels himself to the little novelettes of our life, we com­ have been defrauded. It is aa though ona mence our narrationa with the presumption were aaked to eat boiled mutton after that these details are borne in mind, and woodcocks, caviare, or macaroni cheese. though they be all forgotten, the storiea I hold that it is better to have the come out intelligible at last. "Ton re­ boiled mutton firat, if boiled mutton there member Mary Walker. Oh yea, you do; must be. —that pretty girl, but such a queer The atory which I have to tell ia aome­ temper! And how she was engaged to thing in ite nature akin to that of poor marry Harry Jones, and said she wouldn't Mra. Jones, who was happy enough down at the church-door, till her father threat­ in Devonahire till that wicked Lieutenant ened her with bread and water ; and how Smith came and persecuted her; not quite they have been living ever aince aa happy so tragic, perhaps, as it is stained neither as two turtle-doves down in Devonshire, by murder nor madness. But before I tUl that scoundrel. Lieutenant Smith, can hope to interest readers in the per­ went to Bideford ! Smith has been found plexed details of the life of a not unworthy dead at the bottom of a saw-pit. Nobody's lady, I mnst do more than remind them sorry for him. She's in a madhouse at that they do know, or might have known, Exeter; and Jones has disappeared, and or should have known, the antecedents of couldn't have had more than thirty my personages. I mnst let them under­ shillings in his pocket." This ia quite as stand how it came to pass that so pretty, much aa anybody ought to want to know, so pert, so gay, so good a girl as Mary previoua to the unraveUing of the tragedy Lovelace, without any great fault on her of the Joneses. But such stories as those part, married a man so grim, so gaunt, so I have to tell cannot be written after that somljre, and so old as Lord George Ger­ fashion. We novelists are constantly main. It wUl not suffice to say that she twitted with being long ; and to the gen­ had done so. A hundred and twenty little tlemen who condescend to review us, and incidents must be dribbled into the reader's who take up our volumes with a view to intelligence, many of them,* let me hope, in business rather than pleasure, we must be such manner that he shall himself be in­ infinite in length and tedium. But the sensible to the process. But unless I make story must be made inteUigible from the each one of them understood and appre-

— •« ijj •,•* J • 463 y^ st=- c<= 218 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Condaotedby

oiated by my ingenious, open-hearted, at Manor Crosa, abont nine miles from rapid reader—by my reader who wiU the city. The wealth of the family of the always have his fingers impatiently ready Germaina was not equal to their rank, and to turn the page—he will, I know, begin the circumatances of the family were not made more comfortable by the peculiarities to masticate the real kernel of mystery of the present marquis. He was an idle, with infinite prejudices against Mary Love­ self-indulgent, ill-conditioned man, ivho lace. found that it suited hia taatea better to Mary Lovelace was bom in

Manor Cross, and became not only osten­ one doubted her dash, her wit, her grace, sibly but in very truth the managing head or her toilet. Some also gave her credit of the family. for beauty; but there were those who said He was a man whom no one could that, though she would behave herself despise, and in whom few could find much decently at Manor Cross and houses of to blame. In the first place he looked his that class, she could be loud elsewhere. poverty in the face, and told himself that Such was the lady whom Lord George he was a very poor man. His bread he loved, and it may be conceived that this might earn by looking after his mother paasion was distressing to the ladies of and sisters, and he knew no other way in Manor Cross. In the first place, Misa De which he could do so. He was a just Baron's fortune waa doubtful, and could steward, spending nothing to gratify hia not be large; and then—she certainly was own whims, acknowledging on all sides not auch a wife aa Lady Brotherton and that he had nothing of his own, till aome her daughtera desired for the one male began to think that he waa almost proud hope of the family. of his poverty. Among the ladies ot the But Lord George was very resolute, famUy, his mother and sisters, it was ot and for a time it seemed to them aU that course said that George must marry Miss De Baron—ot whom the reader wUl money. In such a position there is see much if he go through with our story nothing else that the younger son of a —was not unwilling to share the poverty marquis can do. But Lord George was a of her noble lover. Of Lord George per­ person somewhat difficult of instruction sonally aomething muat be aaid. He waa in such a matter. His mother waa greatly a taU, handsome, dark-browed man, silent afraid of him. Among hia aiatera Lady generally, and almoat gloomy, looking, aa Sarah alone dared to aay much to him; such men do, as though he were always and even to her teaching on the subject revolving deep things in his mind, but he turned a very deaf ear. " Quite so, revolving in truth things not very deep— George," she said; "quite so. No man how far the money would go, and whether with a spark of spirit would marry a it would be possible to get a new pair of woman for her money "—and she laid a carriage-horses for his mother. Birth and stress on the word "for"—"bnt I do not culture had given to him a look of intellect see why a lady who has money should be greater than he possessed; but I would less fit to be loved than one who has none. not have it thought that he traded on this, Miss Barm is a most charming young or endeavoured to seem other than he woman, of excellent manners, admirably was. He was simple, conscientious, abso­ educated, if not absolutely handsome, lutely truthful, full of prejudices, and quite of distinguished appearance, and weak-minded. Early in life he had been she has forty tliousand pounds. We all taught to entertain certain ideas as to liked her when she was here." But there religion by those with whom he had lived came a very black frown upon Lord at college, and had therefore refused to become a clergyman. The bishop of the George's brow, and then even Lady Sarah diocese had attacked him; bnt though did not dare to speak again in favour of weak, he was obstinate. The dean and he Miss Barm. had become friends, and so he had learned Then there came a terrible blow. Lord to think himself in advance of the world. George Germain was in love with his But yet he knew himself to be a backward, cousin, Mias De Baron ! It would be long slo w, u nappreciative man. He was one who to tell, and perhaps unnecessary, how that could bear reproach from no one else, but young lady had made herself feared by who never praised himself even to himself. the ladies of Manor Cross. Her father, a man ot birth and fortune, but not, perhaps, But we must return to his love, which with the best reputation in the world, had is that which now concerns us. His mother married a Germain of the last generation, and sistera altogether failed to persuade and lived, when in the country, abont him. Week after week he went over to twenty miles from Brotherton. He was a Baronscourt, and at last threw himself at good deal on the turf, spent much of his Adelaide's feet. This was five yeara after time at card-playing clubs, and was gene­ hia father's death, when he waa already rally known as a fast man. But he paid thirty years old. Miss De Baron, though his way, had never put himself beyond never a favourite at Manor Croas, knew the pale of society, and was, of course, a intimately the history of the family. The gentleman. Aa to Adelaide De Baron, no present marquis was over forty, and as yet

y^ cJi 220 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

unmarried; but then Lord George waa disappointment as this causes enduring abaolntely a pauper. In that way she physical pain—as though they had become might probably become a marchioness; bnt suddenly affected with some acute and yet then of what use would life be to her, lasting disease. And there are men, too should she be doomed for the next twenty who suffer the more because they cannot years to live aimply as one of the ladies of conceal the pain. Such a man was Lord Manor Cross ? She consulted her father, George. He shut himself up for months but he seemed to be quite indifferent, at Manor Cross, and would see no one. merely reminding her that, though he At first it was his intention to try again, would be ready to do everything hand­ but very shortly after the letter to himself somely for her wedding, she would have came one from Miss De Baron to Lady no fortune tUl after his death. She con­ Alice, declaring that she was abont to be sulted her glass, and told herself that, married immediately to one Mr. Houghton • without self-praise, she mnst regard herself and that closed the matter. Mr. Houghton's as the moat beautiful woman of her own history was well known to the Manor acquaintance. She consulted her heart, Cross family. He was a friend of Mr. De and found that in that direction she need Baron, very rich, almost old enough to be not trouble herself. It would be very nice the girl's father, and a great gambler. to be a marchioness, but she certainly was But he had a house in Berkeley-square, not in love with Lord George. He was kept a stud of horses in Northampton­ handsome, no donbt—very handsome—bnt shire, and was much thonght of at New­ she was not sure that she cared much for market. Adelaide De Baron explained to men being handsome. She liked men that Lady Alice that the marriage had heen " had some go in them," who were perhaps made up by her father, whose advice she a little fast, and who sympathised with her had thought it her duty to take. The own desire for amusement. She conld news was told to Lord George, and then it not bring heraelf to faU in love with Lord was found expedient never to mention George. But then, the rank of a marquia further the name of Mias De Baron within ia very high! She told Lord George that the walls of Manor Crosa. she must take time to consider. But the death of Mr. Tallowax was When a young lady takes time to con­ also very important. Of late the Dean of sider she has, as a rule, given way ; Lord Brotherton had become very intimate at George felt it to be so, and was trium­ Manor Cross. For some years the ladies phant. The ladiea at Manor Cross thonght had been a little afraid of him, as they were they saw what was coming, and were by no means given to free opinions. Bat despondent. The whole country declared he made his way. They were decidedly that Lord George was abont to marry high; the bishop was notoriously low; Miss Da Baron. The country feared that and thus, in a mild manner, withont they would be very poor; bnt the re­ malignity on either side. Manor Cross and compense would come at last, and the the Palace fell out. Their own excellent present marquis was known not to be a young clergyman was snubbed in reference marrying man. Lady Sarah was mute to his church postures, and Lady Sarah with despair. Lady Alice had declared was offended. But the dean's manners that there was nothing for them bnt to were perfect. He never trod on anyone's make the best of it. Lady Susanna, who toes. He was rich, and, as far as birth had high ideas of aristocratic duty, thought went, nobody—bnt he knew how mnch that George was forgettmg himself. Lady was due to the rank of the Germains. In Amelia, who had been snubbed by Miss De Baron, shut herself up and wept. The all matters he obliged them, and had marchioness took to her bed. Then lately made the Deanery very pleasant to exactly at the same time, two things Lady Alice—to whom a widowed canon at happened, both of which were felt to be of Brotherton was supposed to be partial. vital importance at Manor Cross. Miss The interest between the Deanery and De Baron wrote a most determined refusal Manor Cross was quite close; and now to her lover, and old Mr. Tallowax died. Mr. Tallowax had died, leaving the greater Now old Mr. Tallowax had been DeanLove- part of his money to the dean's daughter. lace's father-in-law, and never had a child When a man suffers from disappointed bnt she who had been the dean's wife. love he requires consolation. Lady Sarah boldly declared her opinion—in female Lord George did in truth suffer dread­ conclave of course—that one pretty girl is fully. There are men to whom such a as good to a man as another, and might

^\, =^ Oharles Diokens.] A PATCHWORK PEOPLE. [October 13,1877.] 221 be a great deal better, if she were at the hundred and forty-five square miles. Now­ same time better mannered and better adays the one province of Brandenburg, dowered than the other. Mary Lovelace, covering seven hundred and thirty-four when her grandfather died, was only seven­ square miles, contains nearly three million teen. Lord George was at that time over inhabitants. This unparalleled increase thirty. But a man of thirty is still "a is owing to the beginnings made by Fre­ young man, and a girl of seventeen may derick the Great. He gave the population be a yonng woman. If the man be not a start, introducing into Brandenburg at more than fifteen years older than the least one hundred thousand immigrants, woman the difference of age can hardly besides fully aa many more into the rest be regarded as an obstacle. And then of the kingdom. Hence it follows that Mary was much loved at Manor Cross. the Prnasians are not pure Germans. She had been a most engaging chUd, was Even in Brandenburg, the kernel of the clever, well-educated, very pretty, with a monarchy, there is a large mixture of nice sparkling way, fond of pleasure, no foreign blood. Thia may account for doubt, but not as yet instructed to be fast. that peculiar " cockiness," which moat tra­ And now she would have at once thirty vellers abroad have felt and resented, and thousand ponnds, and in course of time which is so different from the suavity of would be her father's heiress. the Austrian, the straightforward gentle- manUnesa of the Hanoverian, and the heavy All the ladies at Manor Cross put their good-nature of the Bavarian. The Prussians heads together—aa did alao Mr. Canon are the Tankees of the Old World, made up Holdenough, who, while these thinga had of half-a-dozen breeds, as the Tankee is been going on, had been accepted by Lady made up of English, Irish, German, with Alice. They fooled Lord George to thei a dash of Dutch and French. And just top of his bent, smoothing him down softly as the Tankees " whip creation," the Prus- amidst the pangs of his love, not suggest­ sia^is are not satisfied without " whipping " ing Mary Lovelace at first, but stUl in all the rest of Europe. things acting in that direction. And they so far succeeded that within twelve months The French are very fond of insisting of the marriage of Adelaide De Baron to on this mixture of races, forgetting that Mr. Houghton, when Mary Lovelace was they too are a composite people. It seems not yet nineteen and Lord George was to console them under defeat to reflect that thirty-three, with some few gray hairs on they were not beaten by a single nation, his handsome head. Lord George did go but by half-a-dozen nations rolled into over to the Deanery and offer himself as a one. M. de Quatrefages, the naturalist, husband to Mary Lovelace. indignant that the G«rman shells did so much harm to his pet Jardin des Plantes, wrote a book on La Race Prussienne, in A PATCHWORK PEOPLE. which he brought forcibly out the influence of the vast French Huguenot immigration, FEEDEEICK THE GEEAT was as fond of when Louis the Fourteenth was mad enough catching colonists as his father was* of to revoke the edict of Nantea. There entrapping tall grenadiers. The difference are whole villages near Berlin, he says, waa that the former didn't in the least care where the type of face is French, and not what country they came from, while the German. M. Lavisse, in an intereating ac­ count of " the coloniaing kings of Prussia," latter preferred that they ahould be Ger- aaya the aame thing, remarking that the mana, or at leaat ahould know German people with French names and French enough to underatand what their officera features are the most pronounced in their said. A whole villageful might speak Germanism. One Berlin professor in 1870 Bohemian, Polish, Greek, it mattered not went so far as to publicly ask forgiveness what, provided they seemed likely to in­ from God and man for the sin of bearing a crease and multiply, and fill up the gaps French name. There is indeed something which the Thirty Tears' War and other in the petty cantankerousness of an ill- troubles had left in his Prussian Majesty'a hnmouredPrussianofficial like the worrying dominions. of a waspish Frenchman—for Frenchmen How well those gaps have been filled up can be waspish. But whether the French may be inferred from thia one fact—Frede­ element counts for much or little, the rick, on coming to the throne, found himaelf foreign element in Prussia is undoubtedly lord of leaa than two miUiona and a half strong. M. Lavisse takes a pleasure in of people, scattered over two thousand one

y J V. c^ 222 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Oondneted by

proving it from Prussian authorities, no­ out the privileges which he awards to his tably from the " HohenzoUernsche Coloni- colonists. There was always something sationen," lately published by Dr. Max somewhere to make people restless—an­ Beheim-Schwarzbach. archy in Poland; chronic misgovemment It is amusing to see how eager Frederick in little states like Mecklenburg, whose was to get colonists, and how cynicaUy budgetless potentates ruined themselves nnsorupulons in getting them. He had two and their dominions by imitating Louis special agencies, one atFrankfort, for South the Fourteenth, and keeping up a minia­ Germany, the other at Hamburg, for the ture Versailles—something of which Fre­ North. The duty of the latter was to stop derick and his crimps were not slow to all emigrants to America, and point out to take advantage. Often the various sove­ them that his Prussian majesty's dominions reigns laid complaints. "Tour way ot were the real land of promise. Besides acting," wrote the Elector of Saxony, "is these there were secret agents in all the dead againat all the rules of good neigh- countries where Frederick's advertisements bourahip. I hope the thing will be entirely were not allowed to circulate. These men put a stop to." He hoped in vain; for got a bonus on every colonist—three doUars Frederick aimply told hia agents to go for an unmarried workman, five for a man on jnst the same, but to be very carefnl and his wife. Every advantage waa taken how they compromised themselves or him, of the tronblea of the timea. No-sooner " Circulate the handbills. Above all, look did newa come of any religious persecu­ out for well-to-do famiUea, but don't seem tion, than the agents flew to the place too eager; let them think it'a nothing to where it raged, representing that Prussia you, and never do or say anything that was a very paradise of civil and religious their Governments can take hold of." liberty. Thus, in 1712, unhappy Poland So the Elector had to content himself —ahe waa unhappy even then—had added with publishing furious edicte, threatening active intolerance to her chronic anarchy. " grievous punishment, even death in some The noblea had all been trained by the cases," against the agents. " On the least Jeauita, and persecution and imprisonment suspicion let them be taken by the neck." became the order of the day. "Now'a None -were ever taken, and the flitting the time," wrote the agent at Glogau, " for across the ^border went on as merrily as your Majesty to make Silesia profit by ever. these troubles. If you will only set up With Poland, Frederick did not even take in a vUlage on the Polish frontier a Pro­ the pains to be civil. There his agents testant church, where there shall be serrice had neither shame nor concealment. " The in Polish, you'll draw the people across recruiting goea on apace," wrote one of by hundreds. It wouldn't cost much—it them. And when some of the Polish may be as plain as a bam; there need not lords tried to stop with the strong hand even be doors to it. The thing is to have the departure of their most valuable serfs, a church. And even if a good many do Frederick sent three regiments across the finally remain in Poland, they will have frontier, and thus, advancing as far as enriched your Majesty by spending a good Posen, swept up the runaways, and beat round sum every Sunday on beer and off vrith loss a handful ot Poles who brandy." In 1747 there was a terrible tried to hinder them. This was in 1769, famine in Bohemia. Frederick, as soon as when Prussia was at peace with Poland; he hears of it, writes to say how much he but the excuse was that the regiments pities the poor hungry people, obliged to were escorting a large purchase of cavalry eat bread that is mostly sawdust, and how horses; and any azcuse was good enough he hopes his subjects along the frontier for the Poles. wiU profit by the disaster to draw some of the sufferers over to his dominiona. That was the way in which Frederick the So, when Lissa ia bnmt down for the Second carried out hia maxim, that " the third time within a century, " Can't we peasant ia the nursing-father of society. do something there ? " writea Frederick ; All his aim was to get the largest number and forthwith he pnbliahes in Polish and of profitable colonists at the least cost. German a proclamation, which, beginning Very often the zeal of his agents wanted with a few words of condolence, goes on stirring up. Then the authorities of the to say: "We have heard that some of favoured districts were not always pleased those thus rendered houseless are de­ to receive " new blood," for which they sirous of emigrating to SUesia," and points were expected to pay. " No use looking to me for expenses," writes the king, "I'w ^= ==r Odarles Dickens.] A PATCHWORK PEOPLE. [October 13,1877.] 223

as poor as Job;" or else he says, " I've got fifty people." Frederick, in the ten years the eaiache to-day, and can't hear what after 1740, found room by draining marshes, you say. Tou must find the money." embanking rivers, &c. for fifty thousand, Frederick was not the man to be disobeyed; and, as we saw, by the end of his reign, he and when he wrote accusing village big­ could boast of baring introduced at least wigs ot having "joined in a hellish plot one hundred thousand colonista into the to ill-treat the colonists, whom I, in my old patrimony of hia house. Silesia, ban­ fatherly solicitude, am placing among yon," died abont in the Middle Ages between the we may imagine there was a rivalry as to different Slavonic kingdoms, came under who should put most sugar on the immi­ the power of Austria in 1526, when the grants' bread and butter. The immigrante Hapsburgs got the crown of Bohemia. As did not always repay the pains spent on M. Lavisse observes, what a different his­ them. A good many got their travelling tory Europe would have had, if Austria, expenses twice over; some even managed to instead of weakening herself hopelessly by run away and re-enlist several times, getting stretching out after her Spanish, Italian, each time their bounty-money over again. and Flemish possessions, had concentrated Others thonght that they had done enough her strength on Bohemia and Silesia. Then in coming, and had no idea of working for she, instead of Prussia, might have Ger­ a livelihood. They gave themselves the manised Silesia to her own profit, aye, and airs of people of consequence, and we may Bohemia too, for we must remember that, imagine the puzzle-headed condition to tUl the House of Brandenburg took them which the Rath or Ober-rath of a SUesian in hand, even the lower valleys 6i the Elbe and Oder were almoat aa Slavonic as township was reduced, between Frederick the upper. With a strong German power urgent on the one hand, and the colonists in the south-east, Austria might have idle, drunken, and impudent, on the other. pushed westward, quietly annexing Ba­ One day, a specially-favoured colonist told varia, which the Prnsaiana would not let the king to his face, that he was going to her annex in 1779 ; while Sileaia, stretch­ pack, and take his family somewhere where ing northward between Berlin and Posen, he had better prospects. " Tou're quite in would have effectually hindered Prussian the right of it, my good fellow," replied advance to the eastward. But it was not to Frederick; " I'd go too if I knew of any be; the Hapsburgs neglected SUesia in a place whore I should have a better chance most shameful way ; so that, when Charles than here." Nevertheless, desertions made the Sixth died, and Frederick, leaping from him very angry. " How shall we stop his sick-bed, left his ministers to concoct a them ? " asked the unhappy functionaries ; few diplomatic lies, and swooped down on " shall we make them take an oath to the prorince, he was able not only to stay?" "What's the use of that?" he conquer it in a month, but to get hold of replied, "there are oaths enough broken, it once and for ever. Everything was without breaking more. Hold a review of changed ; instead of two thousand Ul-dia- them twice a week ; and, I'll tell you what, ciplined, ill-conditioned, brigandish troops, whenever a man deserts, the local magis­ Frederick at once fixed the permanent army trates shall pay what it cost me to get him of Silesia at forty thousand, as highly dis­ into the country." He was not very par­ ciplined as if they were on the eve of a ticular about the character of his immi­ battle. The fortresses were all tumbling grants. "I can't expect the first genera­ to pieces; they were at once put in a state tion," aaid he, "to be any great things; of defence. Books had been almost un­ but I'm working for posterity, and our known before, the censorship at Vienna discipline will make good, useful Prussians was worse than the Papal Index; Frederick of their children." He was right. Silesia, at once poured in bale upon bale of litera­ for instance, into which he enticed more ture, and the Silesians could scarcely be­ than sixty thousand colonists, has become lieve their eyes when they read, in some pretty completely Germanised, having been, of the books thus suddenly provided for before Frederick seized it, a despised Sla> them, jokes upon and sharp critiques about vonic province of Austria. Even in Bran­ their new lord and master. Of course, denburg, he found gaps to be filled np. the taxes rose a little ; but then they were " How are you off for room ? " he wrote; more equally divided. Above aU, they "are the ruins of the Thirty Tears' War were in the main spent in the country, in­ all repaired?" "Tes," was the reply, stead of being carried off bodily to Vienna ; " but we might take say one hundred and out of three and a quarter millions of eleven families, about five hundred and

%= y^ N\ /

224 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

thalers, the king only took away seventeen court and win a higher title, _ or who, thousand. Silesia had been a stronghold having got into trouble, was anxious to be of religious dissensions. Under Austria, restored to favour. " What a lot of fine the Romanists, of course, had had the villages you might have if you'd cut down upper hand; when the Prussians came in, some of your huge forests, count," said the Protestants hoped that the day of ven­ Frederick to Count Posadowski, and then geance had dawned. The day after the he went on detaUing all his own colonising battle of Landshut, two thousand peasants plans, saying that he would get settlers if came and " begged to be allowed the small the count would give them room. Posa­ favour of putting to death all the Papists dowski, who wanted nothing less than in the neighbourhood." Frederick, for once the destruction of his timber, said nothing, in his life, quoted Scripture : " Love your just throwing in a " yes" now and then enemies," cried he, " bless them that curse when politeness seemed to exact it. It you, and pray for them that despitefuUy was enough for the king that he did not use yon, and persecute you." The peasants say "no." Frederick at once went off to went off considerably quieted, we may another SUesian nobleman, and finding hope not unedified. " Liberty of con­ him not at once impressed with the science to all alike," was his rule. AU he beauties and desirableness of turning his did was to cut down the holydays and woods into viUages, "Why," said he, shorten the pilgrimages. He even left " Posadowaki's going to do it. He saw the prince-bishop of Breslan the right of the thing at once." And Posadowski had coining money. to do it. Very soon an official letter came inriting him to " send in a report on As for colonisation, there was ample hia projecta of colonisation." If a noble­ space for it in the farms, estates, whole man reaUy had not money, it was lent to villages, deserted since the Thirty Tears' him; bnt villages the king would have— War, in the towns vrith one or more " well built, with a good houae set apart quarters faUen into ruin. The immigra­ for the schoolmaster." tion agenta worked well; and, before the Seven Teara' War began, SUesia had re­ West Prussia, too—Frederick's share in ceived a very large number of linen-weavers the first partition of Poland, " My little and others, who soon rebuilt the ruined bit of anarchy," as he cynically called it- villages. Silesia suffered much in the needed a great deal to bring it up to the Seven Tears' War; hence Frederick was HobenzoUem standard. When Frederick doubly anxious to start there aU kinds took the country it certainly had not mnch of improvements. Hia correspondence culture, whether Teutonic or Slavonian. with the governor of SUesia is that The official report on the Netze district of a great landowner with his steward. speaks of degenerate breeds of cattle, "Look," says he, "if there is not a good worn-out fields covered with stones and deal of paying work to be done in the way weeds, woods gone to ruin through waste­ of marsh-draining or something of that ful cutting, meadows turned into swamp. sort. I'm pretty nearly sure that round " The cottages are miserable huta of mod Oppeln, for instance, you might find plenty and straw; most of the towns are in of what I mean." " No," was the official ruins; the use of an iron ploughshare i8 ™PV> "your Majesty is misinformed. unknown. Tet there are burial-gronnds, Round Oppeln is nothing but a peat-bog; which show that in the days of the Teu­ you could not feed a man off six acres of tonic knights there was a large thriving it." "Give it a little more thought," population." Frederick at once bnilt answered the king, "and keep in hand schools, abolished serfdom, made all equal money enough, in case you find something before the law, gave large grants to the can be^ done." Next year the king was at towns, lent freely to the noblea, dis­ it again. "How can you reply so per- tributed seed-corn, and brought in a breed functorUy ? Get the district surveyed by of horses from Dessau, and one ot goats people who understand something of. from Spain. Within a year the king conld farming." Frederick was right, as usual, tell Voltaire that his " morsel of anarchy" as anyone may see who looks at the present was as well governed as the rest of the state of the once peat-bog round Oppeln. kingdom; that twenty square miles of But if the functionaries were kept up to marsh had been well drained; that there the mark, so were the nobles. " Make a was a canal bringing the Vistula and Netje village," was the king's advice to any­ into communication with the Oder and one who wished either to stand well at Elbe; above all, that police had been •ir % Oharles Diokens.] A PATCHWORK PEOPLE. [October 18,1877.] 225

brought in where even the name had been of their prince-bishop, still keep in part of heretofore unknown. The canal cost seven East Prussia their dialect and their old hundred and forty thousand thalers, and was popular songs. The Wurtemburgers, completed in sixteen months, six thousand settled in West Prussia, are distinguish­ men working at it night and day. In the able at a glance from the bigger, stouter, summer of 1773 Frederick, to his great joy, lighter-haired "natives." Tley, too, keep saw vessels that had been loaded on the their old dialect, in spite of the school­ Oder sail down the Vistula. On one town. master. Close to Berlin, in the little town of Culm, which was in a most deplorable Rixdorf, there is a colony of old Hussites state, he spent money by handsful—more —" Bohemian brethren " they style them­ than seventy-three thousand thalers for a selves—who, persecuted everywhere, at last complete set of shoemakers, tailors, masons, found liberty of conscience at Branden­ &c. &o., the pick of a whole year's crop burg. They still talk Bohemian among of colonists. The total sum spent on the themselves, sing Czech hymns, and read place exceeded a quarter of a mUlion the old Hussite Bible. They and their thalers—a good sum, when we think of Calrinist and Lutheran fellow-townsmen the value of money more than a century quarrelled at first a great deal, amusing ago in Germany; but it was well spent, themselves by comparing one another to for Culm became a flourishing town. the beast and hia frienda in Revelation. Bromberg, in like manner, which Frederick They have now calmed down; but Rixdorf found with only eight hundred people, ia still two towns. In one street, as yon was so effectually set going that it now walk along at night, you are greeted with numbers thirty thousand. " gute Nacht," in the next with the Bohe­ When we reflect on the vast immigra­ mian " dobre noo," tion of Huguenots and others under Of the French Huguenot colonies there Frederick's predecessors, and remember, are stUl many traces. TUl 1819 there were too, that in hia reign of forty-six yeara seven churches in Berlin where the service Frederick the Second brought in at least was wholly in French. Thenceforward, three hundred thousand coloniste, we till 1830, the two languages were used feel that Prussia deserves to be called a alternately. Even now they atill preach patchwork kingdom. They calculate that in French once or twice a year. At Ziethen in 178G at least a third of the total popu­ there ia quite a French colony, which, far lation were colonists or their children. away from big towna, haa kept ite dis­ There is no parallel to this in modern tinctiveness. "Father" thereis "pir;" history. " mother," " mir; " " bed," " kuteche," &c. Naturally aU were fish who came to The proper names are Germanised French : such a wholesale fisherman's net. Of Dippo (Dupont) ; Villing (VUain) ; Irr- French, unlike his predecessors, he got benk (Urbain), &c. only a few; of Italians many, who Rnppin, in the very heart of Branden­ set up as pastrycooks and haberdashers. burg, only a few leagues from Berlin, Greeks he was very anxious to bring is another French colony; though there in, believing, like Mr. Gladstone, in the and elsewhere names like Lacroix, San- excellence of the '' Hellenic race." He vage, &c., have been generally translated. had a curious correspondence with a Greek M. de Quatrefages reckons up a list of bishop on the subject, and sent several Prussian notables, who, like our Fon- agents to Venice; but the Greeks were blanques, RomiUys, &c., were "Edict of shy of coming ao far north, so he tried Nantes men." The Humboldte, he says, the gipsies, whom he had at first per­ were French on the mother's side; and secuted, stringing them np to the gallows, even the Emperor of Germany has Hugue­ both men and women, whenever they were not blood in his veins, for Frederick William caught on Prussian soil. Ho found them married the grand-daughter of Coligny. useful as spies; used them, too, to gather M. Beheim-Schwarzbach says: "Ton can rags for his paper-mills, and settled them tell the descendants of a Huguenot almost in colonies, where their deacendanta still to a dead certainty. They generally have retain the gipsy type and gipsy tricks. chestnut hair, sharp dark eyes, long taper Other stUl earlier settlers are even now fingers, quite unlike the coarse fat fingers of the Germans. Tet they are not French­ recognisable here and there. The Salz- men ; there ia a calm, sometimea a caat of burgers, who before Frederick the Second's sadness, over the face, which is wholly time had come en masse, fleeing in the German." M. de Quatrefages can catch, depth of winter from the mad intolerance

M= :«3 ^ 226 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Condaotod by

amid the " precious balms " with which together. The progress has been steady, Emperor William was fond of " breaking for each successive prince has pulled with the heads " of his conquered foes, what he a will in the same direction. In this way calls " the distant echo of our old religious Berlin, which in the great Elector's day wars, with their undying legacy of hatred." had six thousand people, had risen to sixty- He says, too, that the children of the nine thousand at the time of Frederick the Huguenots, speaking French like French­ Second's accession. Fifteen years later it men, were infinitely useful dnringthe war; numbered nearly one hundred and ten " They passed for Frenchmen, went every. thousand, and we know what its popula­ where, heard everything, preached insub­ tion is now. Towna do grow more quickly ordination, and worked out the Nemesis in America, but Prnssia is in Europe; and of Louis the Fourteenth's cruel folly." besides, the progress has been steady, and M. Lavisse simply remarks that the only bids fair to be continuous. " German " with whom he had an angry word during a recent tour in Prussia was one of these " Berlin-Frenchmen." BETWEEN THE LINES. SiNO the song of the singer, merrily ring the rhymes, The Prussians, therefore, are a patch­ Light is the lay they tell us, light as its echoed work people. In the Middle Ages, monks, chimes; merchants, runaway serfs in search of Sing^ the song of the singer, mocking at donbt and fear, freeholds, knights anxious to carve out fiefs Catch the joy of its melody, let its daring beanty in heathendom, all did aomething towarda cheer; Germanising what is now called Prussia. WeU that the mdlow music may bear no hidden signs Brandenburg got to have a dialect of Of the broken heart of the poet, written between the its own, the Mark or Border-speech, of lines. the capabilities of which Luther boasts in Watch tho part of the player, bravely and deftly his Table-talk. The Thirty Tears' War done. stopped this progress for a time, bnt it Sea the difficult height attained, the loud applanses won; went onagain under Frederick the Second's Weep with his passionate sorrow, thrill to his pas­ immediate predecessors, and he himself sionate bliss, gave, as we have seen, the finishing touch Blending your joyous laughter with that happy langh of his; to it; and now the compact way in which Well that his marrellons acting, dazzles, vdm, the Pmsaian patchwork holds together refines must be a marvel to thoae who compare Who thinks of the desperate effort, written between it vrith Austria, for instance. Surely the the lines ? Hohenzollerns, who brought colonists and See the work of the painter, in colouring rare and took so much pains in acclimatising rich, Give it its well-won homage, dtoose it the choicest them, deserved to succeed better than niche; selfish ruffians like the princes of Hesse, Hang it where it may render, as an artist's best who, with Frederick's example before them, can do, could find nothing better to do with their Companionship in its beanty, delicate, pure, and subjects than to sell them to George the true! Well that its silent loveliness, softness and thought Third, to be food for powder in America. combines ; "Prassia," says M. B.-Schwarzbach, "is None read tho bitter baffling strife, written between a living organism. Guided by the need of the lines. keeping itself alive, it drew in and assimi­ Watch the path of the prosperous, sunny, and smooth, lated everything that came near it, re­ and bright, Health and wealth to give it its full of sweetness pairing ite losses as the maimed zoophyte and of light; puts out a new arm; and at last surprising See how the easy future is planned for tho careless the worid by the strength which it had feet, w"n" t*"'^ slight" desire, flattered each vague conceit. been quietly gathering." Well that the outward surface, gladness and peace Some physiologists declaim against'mixed enshrines; races. " They always have bad teeth," aays Who knows the tale of the skeleton, written between the lines ? an Anglo-Irish friend, explaining in that If the singer dies iu solitude, his songs sigh on as way an hereditary defect. But, teeth or no sweetly; teeth, mixture seems to have answered well If the statesman has a hearth disgjaoed, does he faee the world less metely ? m Prussia. Prussia had, what some mixed So the artist's touch is fine and sure, who heeds the populations have lacked, a good "paternal hand that guides it ? ayatem," under which the cruditiea of the Doeathe player feel a fading life? his miming, mask- ^tchwork apeedily disappeared. As M. de mg, hide it. Cypress, and rose, and laurel, Fate's reckless hand Quatrefagea aays, they were all Prnasians i entwines; Life reads the printed story—Death writes between the lines. f =5= Oharles tKckens.] DOUBLEDAT'S CHILDREN. [October 13, 677.] 227 DOUBLEDAY'S CHILDREN. "A large family for an old bachelor," BT DUTTON OOOK, said the friend to whom he spoke. AUTHOR 0» " YOUNO MB. NIOHTINOALB," " HOBSON'S " Well, yes," Mr. Leveridge added, vrith OHOici," &0. Ice, a sigh, " an old bachelor, as you say. Heaven has so willed it, and I may not BOOK V. THE FUETHEB NAEEATIVE OF BASIL repine. I leave no children of flesh and DOUBLEDAT. blood; I must be content with these of CHAPTEB XI. A DEMONSTEATION. paint and canvas." IN a large gallery in the Adelphi, Mr. " I count this exhibition a greattrinmph," Leveridge'a pictures have been assembled he said upon another occasion; " it seta for exhibition, that his name may be the me right with the public. They'll know me more regarded among men, and his repu­ better than they did. My reputation seems tation descend to future generations. The more aecnrely eatabliahed. In tmth these worka, lent by varioua proprietors, amply pictures are the title-deeds of my fame." demonstrate the painter's great indnatry, "Written on a good many skins," ob­ his technical excellence, hia fine sense of aerved a byatander. colour; there is proof, too, of his poetic The painter seemed broken in health taste and invention. The collection com­ aomewhat, but he risited hia exhibition prises numeroua Eves and Vennses, Psyches daily, bestowing fond glances upon his and Galateas, Nymphs and Sirens. During earlier performances, counting the land­ his long career as a painter he had assi­ marks of hia career, pointing out the Venus duously studied both sacred and profane that first brought him into notice, the Juno history in search of subjects. that won him entrance to the Academy, " It's a fine show altogether,'' says the and so on. " I think even poor Deborah painter, simply, " and it does me credit, would have taken pride in the exhibition," though I aay ao that perhaps should not he aaid. "It might have ahocked her a say so. Here are my best pictures, or little—the poor thing, to do her juatice, nearly so, for some are absent—my Hero waa easily shocked—but it would have on Leander's body for instance, I could pleased her, too; at any rate she wonld wish that were here, and my Aurora; the have liked to read about it and all the kind owner refused to lend it because the room thinga said of me in the newspapers." isn't fireproof. The world will aee that at It was a proof of growing infirmity, that any rate I haven't been idle, and I think hia delight in the collection soon yielded they'll add that I know something about to anxiety for its dispersion. He became my art. My career's pretty well over; eager that the pictures should be restored my hand grows infirm. I shan't be able to their owners. A aense of responsibility to do much more. This exhibition is like weighed hearily upon him; he became the feu-de-joie that ends the fireworks. I alarmed for the safety of his works. What shall only trifle and twaddle in the future. if flames were to break out, and destroy in I can accomplish no more great works. five minutes the labour of aome fifty yeara ? Well, well, perhapa I've done enough. What if thieves were to break- in, and They look well, don't they? and they've pilfer the choicer treasures of the gallery ? worn well. Tou see they are all honestly It waa dreadful to think of. And he com­ and simply painted. I have never tried plained that he could not sleep at night for thinking of such catastrophes, that they after new vehicles or fantastic experiments. haunted his dreams and distressed him Cold-drawn linseed oil, with a little spirits exceedingly. of turpentine, that's what I've nsed chiefly and found answer very well. It keeps the "I shall be glad when it's over, Basil," flesh tints very pure, aa you aee." he said to me. " Indeed it seems to me He received the hearty congratulations of that my life might well close now, while his friends and brother-artists. people are speaking and writing kindly of "It's like an instalment of posthumous me, while my fame ia freah, and the world's fame, paid on account," he said pleasantly. applause is ringing in my ears. I've been " I am able to grasp the collected result of thinking so these many days past, until I my life's laboura. I was nervous yesterday; have almost persuaded myaelf that my final the anxiety and fatigue of completing the hour drawa near. In truth I'm like an exhibition told upon me a good deal. I old soldier, with my knapsack packed, and am at peace to-day ; I'm entirely satisfied. my arms and accoutrements all neat and I sit here very happy, surrounded by my trim, simply waiting for my orders to march. Let this be a secret between us. children."

^ /^ cS: [Oondncted by 228 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. was brought back to the lodgings in the I've made my will, BaaU. I'm a childleaa old man. I leave no kinsfolk behind me, New-road. .:, . so I've made you my heir, Basil, that is, " Our home was here," she said with nominally, you underatand. There'a not plaintive simplicity. 80 much money aa people fancy—in these She waa told that Mr. Leveridge greatly cases there never ia quite so much money wiahed to aee her. as people fancy—yet there's a tidy aum all "Let him come," ahe said; "he shall the same. I want to help you, Basil, and be welcome. He ia a very old friend. I in a degree I ahould like to help Nick; can remember him so long back, ever but only in a degree, for Nick has alwaya aince I waa the tiniest child, and I find seemed to me a young man very well able myself clinging to the paat; the pre­ to take care of himaelf. He'll puah on, sent ia so sad, and the future ia such a without heeding those he pushes againat, blank." or pushes down and passes over. Bnt She was much agitated, however, and mainly I want to help Doris." her face waa dreadfully pale when I The tears came into hia eyea as he men­ brought him to her. She rose, in her tioned her name. black dreas, and advanced to meet him. " I don't think ahe haa ever known how " My child, my child! " he cried. The fondly I loved her.. Well, well, I won]t aight of her auiferinga, of her widow's apeak of that. I'll only aay that she la dress, of the lines of care traced upon her dear to me atill, very dear. Bnt things face, seemed to wound him cruelly. happened adversely, and I forgot every­ "Mr. Leveridge," she said, with the thing but my love and acted selfiahly and air of one nerving herself to make a con­ very, very foolishly. I can't—ahe would not fession she had long looked forward to let me—help her aa I ahould like to help making, " I did you grave injustice in the her. Poor Doria is proud. She thinks past—I acted towards yon with a wicked ahe haa wronged me, and it would pain thoughtlesaneaa—no one knowa that better her, it would be humiliation to her, there­ than I do now; no one conld be more fore, to accept aid from me. She could anxiona to make confession of it. Alas! not bear it, I know. Well, yon muat atand I can make you no amends. But what is in my place, Basil. It's my trustee I wish past ia past. Bnt if ever you wished that yon to be rather than my heir. She'll let I should be puniahed for my ains against you help her, though ahe won't let me. you, your wiah has been sorely gratified. And—help her in spite of herself, there'a Look at me 1 Have I not been punished a dear boy. She need never know it'a enough ? My heart ia broken ! " with my money you're helping her. For " My child, my child, I never wished it." I don't mean you to wait until I'm dead "No, no ; you did not—^you could not!" and gone. The poor thing needa help And overcome with her tears she fell forthwith. Only tell me what to do for fainting towards him. He caught her in Doria and count it done, BasU. Tou under­ hia arms. _ . ^^ atand me ? " " My Doris, my poor, poor child Doris!' Doria waa again in England. Her he said again and again. Presently he sufferings had been very great, but ahe whispered to me: " Tour mother looked bore the journey well. juat like thia, bnt a little while before The remaina of Paul, aa one of the she died." rictima of the days of February, had been interred in the vaults beneath the Column If the people had risen. But they did of July. The Republic had decreed not rise. Their disaffection had been ex­ funeral honoura to the slain. The ritea aggerated, or their faith in The Charter were solemnised in the church of the was far from complete. The 10th ot Madeleine. A grand procession marched April came and went, yet the British aolemnly from the H6tel de Ville to the Constitution remained unchanged. Place de la BaatiUe, while the troops pre­ London began forthwith to laugh at its sented arms, the crowds in the streets fright. It went behind the ghost, as it bared their heads, the songs of the Revolu­ were, and perceived that it had been terri­ tion were chanted on all sides, the muffled fied by such simple meana as a white drums rolled ceaselessly, and the banda of sheet, a broomstick, a acooped-out tnrmp the National Gnarda and the regimenta of with a lighted candle stuck in it. There the line played mournful music. had been nothing really more alarming. It waa at her own request that Doris In tmth the failure was moat absolute.

=1^ OharlGB'Dickens,] DOUBLEDAT'S CHILDREN. [October 13,1877,] 229

The cause of the People'a Charter periahed and thoae who had feared the most laughed pitiably, ignominioualy, ludicrously. the loudest. There waa a grand procession of leaders, The matter may be now judged from a orators, and delegates ; of bands, and vans, distance and dispaaaionately. To my and banners ; of column after column of thinking the people had legitimate reason men of the artisan claaa, marching ahoulder for complaint—endured mnch injustice, to ahoulder, brave of bearing and defiant suffered many hardships, which Parlia­ of look. And with theae came in their ment was then too inert and opinionated, thousands the worthless and miachievona, ignorant and selfish, to remedy. The and predatory hordes of London—the appeal to physical force failed, however, aa scum and refuse of a great city, intent on it deserved to fail. And Chartism, con­ their own infamous and savage ends. It sidered aa a panacea, waa found to be of was thus rather a mob than an army that no more worth than many other political advanced through the streets, crossed the quack medicinea. bridges, and paaaing out of Middleaex into Chartism perished—^bnt not before, as I Surrey, proceeded to Kennington-common, hold, it had wrought genuine good, and had the appointed scene of demonatration. But reaUy served ita turn. I lay no atreas then a mob, rather than an army, had upon the fact, that certain of ita aix points accomplished the French Revolution ! were afterwards calmly enough conceded There were occasional cheers from idlers by the Legislature, and were found by and lookera-on, with some langhter and general agreement to improve the mechan­ ridicule; bnt there was little real aym­ ism of the constitution. But as a proteat pathy. Even the most lenient of our it succeeded. It drew attention to the judges held that we were endangering the needa and vrishes of large clasaea long public peace, without sufficient excuse. overlooked by our lawgivera. Indirectly Our appeal to phyaical force had not only it brought about greater aympathy between alienated many of our political friends, but all aections of our aociety. It helped to had arrayed againat ua the energy and bridge the gulf diriding the rich from the military atrength of the Government. We poor, the idle from the industrious; it encountered no oppoaition, however; not a diffused knowledge; it roused interest; it soldier, nor a policeman, waa to be aeen. helped on the general progress of the There was something ominous about the English people. That is my view of the absence of all interference. Were we to matter. be led into an ambuscade ? Muat we pre­ pare for a sudden onslaught of the soldiery ? It was a sunny evening in spring; Were we to be the victims of another with transparent rain clouds veiling the Peterloo ? horizon, with outbreaka of pale golden Soon information spread that artillery, light, and curious patches of purple shadow cavalry, and infantry, in overwhelming chequering the landscape. force and ready for immediate action, were I encountered Mr. Griadale upon Hamp- aasembled in the neighbourhood. The atead-heath. - He looked aad and care­ demonstration waa thus aubjected to a very worn, but he was perfectly calm. depressing influence. " I am np here for fresh air and a little The meeting was duly held, however. peace and rest, and for time to think. I The vans were ranged together to form a am going on to The Spaniards for a cup platform for the oratora and their friends ; of tea and a watercress. The fact ia, my and harangues more or leas violent in dear boy, I dare not go home. I am quality were successively delivered. But charged with sedition. A warrant has the crowd listened with preoccupied been issued for my apprehension. Cuffey thoughts and averted gaze; they were for and Jones, Pussel and Looney, are already ever looking over their shoulders in expec­ in custody. If I venture back to Somers- tation of the arrival of cavalry upon the town I am certain to be arrested." ' i scene. A sense of failure waa present " Where ia Catalina ? " I demanded. generally; all felt baffled and discomfited. " Poor child, ahe'a safe enough. She's Many turned their steps homeward; the with Uncle Junius. They can't do any­ mass melted, the mob dispersed. thing to him, you know. It's quite true Then the rain fell hearily—as though that he played the French horn in one of the occasion needed further damping! the bands on Kennington-common; but Chartism waa fairly washed away—for ever. that ian't a criminal offence—as yet. Now Great laughter ensued, aa I have said: if any good purpoae could be served by

/ \ X3 [Conducted by 230 [October IS, 1S77.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND.

my arrest, I would cbeerfnlly submit to podes, and that thinga here are apt to the action of the authoritiea. Bat to ini- wear rather a topay-turvy appearance. It'a prison me will benefit no one, and will Chriatmas time, yet the weather a so hot injure me considerably. I intend therefore, that a steaming plum-pudding ia almost a in point of fact, to keep out of the way.' personal offence to me. Similariy I am "And Catalina? " I repeated. the editor of what's called a Oonaervative "My dear boy, you forget they can paper, the while I'm in oppoaition to the bring no possible charge againat her. It s Government and aupporting the interest tme she's helped me with my newspaper; of the original settlers upon the soil. I bnt they don't know that. Catalina's safe should call myself a Radical if I wasn't in enough. There's Junius to look after her, Auatralia; and though I am practically a and, of course, you'd lend a helping hand free-trader, I am steadily and boneatly re­ if need arose." commending a mild course of protection as " Of course," I said earnestly. very necessary for a young colony, which A policeman passed us. "Perhapa it muat leam to walk before it can leam would be a few pounda in that poor to mn, and while it's learning to walk fellow's pocket if he knew me to be Gria­ needs must have kindly hands stretched dale the Chartiat 1 " oat to it to prevent its tumbling down altogether." CHAPTEB XII. POSTSCEIPTUM. The Sentmel is no time-serring journal, IT ia very hot; and Mr. Griadale, at­ however. It speaks vrith most fault­ tired in a auit of white duck, ia glad to finding candour of His Excellency; it move his rocking-chair well beneath the deals in slashing leaders and pointed para­ shadow of his verandah. There ia a cup graphs upon a variety of topica. In truth of tea cloae beside him, and he holds in his it is very much one of Mr. Grisdale's old hand a copy of The Australasian Sentinel, Somers-town organs attired in colonial of which oi^an he ia the editor and sole raiment. Even certain of the old Utopias proprietor. Melbonme is within an easy find " ventilation " in the columns of The ride or drive of his villa. Sentinel. Here is a familiar panegyric Some years have passed. But his age, concerning the suffrage and the elective like old Adam's, is "aa a lusty winter, principle, with a rather wild proposition frosty but kindly." Time haa aomewhat that the constablea of the colony, having, thinned his rampant locks, dimming their after a faahion, to rule over men, shall be ardour of hue; it is as though the flames appointed to office by the vote of their had burnt out, and left but gray ashes. fellow-citizens, the ineritable ballot-box Otherwise he looks hearty and healthy; being, of courae, forthcoming on the occa­ altogether in excellent preservation. sion. And here is a suggestion for the foundation of a universal bank, the " AuatraUa has been the making of me," capital to be supplied by philanthropists, he is wont frankly to own; and he adds which shall lend money free of interest ambitiously: "I should like to be the and so somehow indirectly abolish taxes, making of Auatralia. But we shall do and in time pay off the national debt. Bat very well. We need have no fear. Aus­ these eccentricities notwithstanding, The tralia advances 1 Melbourne grows to be Sentinel ia a sensible and business-like a great city. To be sure, the buildings paper, enjoying a large circulation, and are a little mixed; but they'll shake into very weU supported by advertisera. And their plaoes, both shanty and palace, in a apparently Mr. Grisdale has made his very little while. Ah! Basil, if your peace with the pillars of the Church. poor father were but alive, and with ns There, at any rate, is an article very com­ atill! He'd find rare scope for his genius plimentary to the Bishop of Melbourne, aa an architect here. There'a room enough with whom, indeed, Mr. Grisdale had the and to apare in these parts for any number pleasure of dining only last week. More­ of glorious edifices. Melbonme'a chief over,! there are eridences of regard for want is an architect." certain political institutions of ancient The Australasian Sentinel was an ener­ date, snch as the Somers-town publications getic journal, warmly advocating the in­ viewed rather intolerantly. Looking at it terest of the squatters—what was known now from a long distance, Mr. Grisdale indeed throughout the colony as the Con­ finds something to admire even in tho servative cause. British Constitution, and is capable at "We must always remember," observes intervals of civil mention of the Crown. Mr. Griadale, "that we are at the anti­

C8: Oharles Dickens.] DOUBLEDAT'S CHILDRBN, [October 13,1877.] 231

To be sure " the mother country" ia in England. We'll welcome him. We'll sometimes rather derisively spoken of; even take tickets for his benefit, and " but there is love in the laughter; a " And not go to it," saya a thrilling prankish boy might in the aame way jeat musical voice. at the old lady hia mother, her foibles and Doris is the speaker. She is very beau­ eccentricitiea, the while his heart really tiful atill, and a calm amile graces her feela very tenderly towarda her. lipa, and there ia a sort of tender flush of " When we were championing the colour upon her cheeka. She looka as one People'a Charter with ita six points, we who haa gone throngh sore tribulation, to might have added a seventh—the most find peace, at last. The ordeal has been importnnt of all—emigration ! What a undergone, but it ia not forgotten—the good thing it would be if we could memory of it, indeed, cannot paas away— transplant " its impreaaion ia indelible. A curioua air " Transport ? " of thonghtfnlneaa now aeems to possess " I said ' transplant,' sir—certain of our her face, her manner is marked by a sort old friends. They'd flourish in thia fine of musing repose; her eyes one might generous aoil,wherea8athome—inBngland fancy are oftentimes fixed upon the past, and occupied with visions not manifest I should say, I count thia my home now— to others. And yet she seema able now they are overcrowded, they are perishing and then to put her tronblea far from her; for lack of fresh free air and room to bnt that ia chiefly when she looka at little move. Emigration's the thing. The Paulbeaide her, and busies herself in tend­ English population will thrive the better ing him, in finding new pleasures for him, for being thinned; the more that come in sharing his childish pursuits and paa- here the better it will be for all." timea. " Especially for The Australasian Sen­ tinel." Mr. Griadale riaea from hia chair, and " A most admirable advertising medium. would yield it to Doria. But little Paul But depend upon it, I am right. Sow will have her come with him beneath the Englishmen in various parts of the globe, shelter of the umbrella, to gather certain and reap grand colonial possessions; in favourite EngHsh flowers, with which the time new empires come into existence, and garden ia ablaze. the world acquires a richer history, a " How like the child growa to hia grander interest." father! " notes Mr. Griadale. " The same Uncle Junius approaches. He calls him­ fine caat of features, the same grave, gray self Professor of Music now. A large door- eyes, with the same crisp cap of curls— plate in Melbourne's chief street informs but they boast the ruddy gold gleam of the world of the fact. He looks old, and hia mother'a locka. If our friend Leve­ is a good deal bent, but he haa prospered ridge were atill alive and with ua, what altogether. studies he might make of Cupid, of the " The mail's in," he aSys. Infant Bacchus, of Ganymede, and the rest of them. How the poetry of the old " What's the news ? " paganism haa kept it alive I la not that "Well, there'a nothing much that I call a pretty picture now ? " newa. Do yon remember a man named Hooton, Lucius ? " It waa a very pretty picture. Doris and "Hooton? Toomer Hooton ? Tobeaure her boy nestling under the umbrella, and I do. I met him"—he waa going to say "in gaining increase of shadow from a wide- The Bench," he substituted " years ago." spreading canopy of foliage, seated upon " I thought I knew the name," saya the slope of the award, toying vrith the Junius, hazily. " He calls himself an emi­ flowers they had gathered, and inter­ changing the pretty prattle, the aweet nent tragedian—he's arrived with a com­ smiles, the tender glances, and fond pany of actors. He intends to give a caresses, that have constituted, since the series of Shakespearian performances time of the first-bom, the unvarying con­ throughout the colony." verse of mother and child—exquisitely de­ "What crimes are committed in the lightful to both. name of Shakespeare ! " exclaima Mr. Gria­ dale. " But I suppose thia Hooton must Presently arrivea a letter from Nick. be supported. He must be getting on— We had heard from him only inter­ in years. Tt would be hard his coming all mittently. Letter-writing waa distasteful thia way to be hissed, because I don't doubt to him; he had been ill-pleased at our departure from England; and had ex- he often got hissed, and yery well hissed, 232 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

pressed himself very contemptuously in Emmy's share in the estate of her late regard to the colonies. He waa apt to father haa been securely aettled upon her­ confuse the emigrant vrith the convict, and self. But they promise to be a very happy entertained a vague notion that Botany and united couple. Bay waa the proper title of the whole con­ tinent of New South Wales. Tet another figure joins the group in the He was a married man at last I Emmy garden of Mr. Grisdale's Australian villa. Baker had become hia wife. My Catalina brings her grandfather yet We learnt the newa with aome aurprise. another cup of tea. I say " my Catalina," We had auppoaed him pledged, to Eliza with intention, of set purpose, and with Baker. truth. For she is indeed mine. It appeared that certain hitches had I may not tell fnlly how it aU came interrupted the progreaa of his wooing. about. I feel that already I am verily After hia uaual manner, he had conceived guilty, in that I have trespassed so much that hia wiahea were to be wholly unop- upon the reader's attention. But—I loved poaed, and that what he had planned to Catalina. The fact haa been aet forth, I take place would assuredly occur. He think, more than once in theae recorda. had thua announced to us hia intention to The emigrant ship was off BlackwaU. marry Eliza Baker, before he had taken Catalina atood beaide Uncle Jnniua upon mnch counael with the young lady upon the deck; all thought of proaecuting the aubject, or been at any trouble to Mr. Griadale had been abandoned. He secure her consent. To his great amaze­ had gone on to Melbourne to eatablish a ment ahe had refused him, when at last he home there for hia brother, and for his made' his formal offer. She had informed darling Catalina. him, however, that, unwilling herself to " It is very hard to say good-bye." become his vrife, ahe nevertheleaa thought My heart was so full, I conld only ven­ it very possible that her elder aiater Alice ture upon commonplaces. might like the aituation. To Alice, there­ " Is parting such sweet sorrow, as the fore, after a certain pause, to compoae hia poet says ? I think, in truth, it's very nerves and regain his breath, Nick accord­ bitter sorrow." ingly applied himself. But Alice in her " And we part for so long a time, for turn rejected his suit. StiU she went on ever it may be." to »say, by way, perhaps, of breaking his "No—not for ever. Don't say that— fall, that she rather fancied her sister don't even think that. We ahall meet Emmy, after formal application, might again—wid soon. I feel certain that we consent to become his wife. shaU." What Nick thought of this, cannot be " Catalina," I said wildly, " I love yon fnlly stated. However, he addressed him­ so ! If yon bid me come to you, however self to Emmy; and, in due course, he far away you may be, I ahall aurely be obtained from her a favourable response. beside you, at your feet—very, very Emmy was the eldest of the three sisters, speedily." and it had been arranged beforehand, " I will say it now. * Come to me,' or perhaps, that she should be the first to be ' come with us,' " ahe said laughingly, but married. Or it may be, that she thonght with tears in her eyes, and a throb in her it well that Nick should not go altogether voice. out of the family; and therefore, upon her "But—have you thought? Do you sister's rejection of him, she accepted him. know what that aignifiea ? It means that Old Baker died, and the existence of his you love me, that you are mine, always bank was seriously menaced by the ap­ mine—my wife." pearance at the East-end of London of "I love you ! Do yon want it said so various branches of the Joint Stock Bank­ plainly, in so many words ? " ahe hid her ing Companies. In time it became neces­ blushing face. sary to amalgamate the old institution " How was I to know it, if you would with the new. Nick appeared subsequently not say it plainly in so many words ? " as the head-cashier of the eastern branch " How was I to say it, sir, if you would of the Cosmopolitan Banking and Uni­ not ask me to say it ? Is a girl to be like versal Discount Company (Limited). It a ripe plum, and to drop into your mouth does not aeem likely that he will ever riae of her own accord or in apite of herself, if much above that poaition; bnt it is one you but stand long enough below mutfl of comfort and considerable emolument. and agape ? But, in truth, I don't think I

,cr= ^ ^J. Ohsirles Dickons.] CLIPPED RUPEES. [October 13,1877.] 233

knew myself how much I loved you, Basil, reporters were in waiting to take them until this hour of our parting came, and down, and they give them a rhetorical then It's hard to read one's own heart, twist, as if making a "gallery stroke." or to know what's written there; and Mr. Tattenham says their neatly-worded sometimea, you see, one doesn't want to sentences are "long-winded," and con­ know, one hurries past the page, though signs them to Tophet for a " prosy lot, who the inscription on it may be in very large round off their speeches as if they were and plain lettera. But the time for read­ writing an official report." Aa for me, I ing it surely comes. In truth, the writing like the old gentlemen passing well, and is forced upon one's attention at last, it infinitely prefer them to the young Indians, thrilla throngh one, and seta one's cheeks who have grievances. The old ones have burning, as mine are now, and then others grievances too, but they, if lengthy in can read it beaide one oneself. Ton for narrating them, do not repeat themselves, instance." as the younger men do. In one respect— " Love is so blind I " although there ia no compariaon they would " Lovers are so stupid ! " more energetically repudiate — the latter resemble the Chartists of a bygone gene­ ration. Frost and Feargus O'Connor and CLIPPED RUPEES. their followers had a happy knack of saring the costa, chargea, and expenses of THE only club in London not now de­ a room or hall for their meetings. Funds void of tenants ia the Cardamom—a club were scarce, for one thing, and their mode famous for its curriea and pillaua, ita of procedure had an additional attraction mangoea and chutney. Thither go many in its free and buccaneering character. It " old Indiana," not of the conventional was known as the "cuckoo dodge," and "nabob" type, but wholeaome-looking was played in this way. No sooner did gentlemen, plump if not roay, perhaps a the Anti-Corn Law agitators, or any other little over-dignified and ceremonious—the body of persons, organise a meeting, than invariable fault of people who have lived the Chartists mustered in force, and taking anywhere aa a caste—but good fellows in riolent possession of the platform then the main; far better read than London and there, converted the Anti-Something- people who, if, aa the alang phrase goes, or-other meeting into a Chartist demon­ really " in it," know everything about poli­ stration. This is precisely what the young tics and aociety at firat hand, and pro­ malcontents do at the Cardamom Club. fessing to care for nothing else, read They put an end to rational talk. Only nothing bnt the newspapers and per­ the other day I waa discussing with Sir haps a magazine or two. They profess— Hercules Brinjal the merita of Madame these people who are "in it"—to admire, Grand, afterwarda Madame Talleyrand, if they have heard of him, Charles Lamb's when Sir Hercules unluckily inaisted on friend who left off reading " to the great telling hia favourite anecdote abont" sicca " ' increase of hia originality," and Vanbrugh's rupees—the good ancient rnpee which Lord Foppington, from whom Lamb took preceded the present debased currency. his idea; and they have all heard of Sarah At some length the worthy man descanted Jennings and her books, " men and cards," on the difference between a "sicca" and for waa not she the ancestreaa of the noble an ordinary rnpee in the time of Sir Philip houaea of Spencer and Spencer-Churchill, Francia, and on the debate between the not to kno w all about whom wonld be to judgea in the divorce caae of Grand against confess ignorance of Burke and all his Francia aa to the amount of damages to works ? But the " Indiana " read steadily, be awarded. Judge Hyde deaired to fix while in India ; recollect what they read ; the damagea at a lakh of rnpeea, whUe and actually embellish their talk with Judge Chambera thought no damages anecdotes and references to peraons dead should be given at all; but finding himself and gone a quarter of a century ago. I alone againat Impey and Hyde, named aometimea believe, as I sit in the smoking- thirty-three thouaand rnpeea. The presi­ room of the Cardamom, that these ex­ dent—Impey—cut the knot very easily, cellent people believe in the survival of and gave judgment for fifty thouaand conversation—an art, that their frienda at rupees. Hereat Judge Hyde sprang up in home gave np in the dark agea before Ap- his seat and cried out, " Siccas, brother polinaris water waa invented. They finish Impey, siccaa! " and the court gave judg­ their sentences, too, these grandees, aa if ment accordingly.

J^ cs 234 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

Hardly are the words out of Sir "Well then. Passing over the broad Hercules Brinjal'a mouth than there ia a absurdity of papng English officers serving bubble of talk about rnpeea, aiccas and the Queen in her Indian army in rupees— othera; and auch talk of exchangea that less exchange when home on furlough—I one would imagine himself in Cornhill. vriU point out the peculiar hardship for "I tell you," says Captain Kedgeree, a which we have to thank that meddling smart, soldierly man of aome eight-and- genius the Duke of Argyll, and propose a thirty aummers, " that it ia not the sum in motto for him, 'NihU tetigit, quod non queation, but the gross injustice of the damnarit.'" thing, that raises one's bUe. To me it "Let McCallnm More alone," cut in makes a difference of forty pounds a year McSpeldring; " the father-in-law of a —gloves and cheroots to some of you princess of the royal blood wants no aingle fellows, but an important item to a mottoes of yonr making." married man. The entire principle ia "Don't interrupt, old 'Nemo me im- falae. We are Engliahmen, and engaged pune,'

/T^ ^

Oharles Diokens.] CLIPPED RUPEES. [October 13,1877.] 236 forgets the claims of country in those of " I don't quite follow you. The thing kin, and reads, in a voice like the creaking is getting mixed between the 1868 rulea of cart-wheels, the following: and the doctrine of election, and the 1871 something. Give me a cheroot, for reaaon " DESPATCH. rocks upon its throne." " India Offioe, London. April 27, 1871. " I have remarked," throws in Sir " Par. 6.—In the General Order issued Hercules, " that although EngUsh people by the Government of India, number one come forward handsomely with aubacrip- thousand and sixty-four, dated November tiona for the Indian famine, they will 10, 1868, it waa ateted that furlough pay never take the paina to understand any in all future orders and referencea would Indian queation. An Indian debate clears be understood aa the half Indian aalary the Houae at once. When a quarter of a within the prescribed limita, converted at million of people were overwhelmed by a the exchange of two shUlings for the rnpee. tidal wave in Bengal, there was leaa notice taken of it in England, than there would " Par. 6.—On a careful consideration of have been of the loaa of a ship vrith fifty the matter, it appears to me that there is paasengers off the Lizard." no reason why the pay of officera in the I submit that the death of remote country should be issued at a different rate persons affects me ao little, that the old from that at which those in India are murder test about alaying a mandarin in allowed to remit a portion of their aalary China by an act of volition in England, to England. aeems to me weak and unfair—not to say " Par. 7.—^I have accordingly to requeat aUly. that your lordship will at once issue an "Well," continues the chief orator, order cancelling ao much of that of No­ " the position ia this, that officera who vember 10, 1868, number one thousand required furlough between 1868 and 1871, and sixty-four, as fixed the uniform rate of and ' elected' the new rulea, enjoy special two shillings, and announcing that aU pay­ advantages over those who took no leave ments of furlough pay will be made at the at that period. There has been a five current rate of exchange fixed for the years' fight over the question, and the official year." decision leaves everything more chaotic "Very ingenious, indeed," insinuates than ever. An attempt was made to Sir Hercules, with secret delight at the extend the 1871 order to officers who had blunder of a Radical; " because they lost ' elected,' but this was fought by Colonel money in remitting home, they muat loae Boisragon, who pleaded his contract, assert­ money when they come home. Excellently ing that as he waa irrevocably bound reasoned. Quite worthy of the little by the conditions under which he had schoolmaster with a theological bee in elected the Furlough Regulations of 1868, his bonnet." ao waa the Government as the other party " Let me go on. This was not all. Pre- to the contract, and that it was not com­ rious to the issue of the order of 1871, petent to the Government to evade the made by the direction of the Duke of performance of a specific contract. The Argyll, there was a period of uncertainty, Marquia of SaUabury admitted the justice during which officers were allowed to of the plea. Colonel Boisragon won his ' elect' between the old and new rules— case, and, aa the matter stands, officers who the English rate, or fifty per cent, of Indian went home under the 1868 regulations, pay and allowances at two shiUinga per before July, 1871, are to be paid at the rnpee. It is important to recollect that rate of two shillings the rupee, while thoae only thoae officers who took furlough who took furlough under the same rules, between 1868 and 1871 had a chance of but after that date, are to be paid at the this ' election.' Every officer who availed current rate of exchange fixed by the himself of it ia absolutely bound by his Secretary of State. Thua only thoae contract while in the serrice. Its chief officera who were fortunate enough to be condition was, that he should be paid, in able to take furlough between July, 1868, the words of the fourth paragraph of the and July, 1871, reap the advantage of this rules, 'the half Indian salary within the deeiaion. How unfairly thia decision prescribed limits, converted at the ex­ operates may be ahown by one or two change of two shiUinga for the rupee.' instances. Captain Jones is a man of These were called the 1868 Rules." _ weak constitution, and unable to stand Here I cannot help breaking in with: the climate for long together. He has. 236 [October 18,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

therefore, been frequently obliged to go to pleasure, till it was Deepweald, and not England to recruit his health, and being Lindenheim, that became the dream. fairly well off, and having something It never struck her aa atrange that her besides his pay to live upon, he has been father never sent for her to see him. His able to afford thus frequent trips; out of ways had always been so different from fifteen or sixteen years' service, quite half what she now learned were the ways of has been spent on furlough. In 1870, he other men, that it wonld have struck her went home under the New Code, drawing as very atrange indeed, if he had done in his pay at par. In 1877, he again goes anything what any other man would have home, and, thanks to Colonel Boisragon, done. She drew no comparisons ; and, as again gets his pay at par. Captain Smith, almost everyone of her fellow-students on the other hand, is a strong, healthy stood upon aome abnormal relation to his man, able to stand the climate, and to do or her own family, domeatic eccentricities his dnty. This, and the misfortune of were the order of the day. want of means, have combined to keep He had written to her now and again, him in India. He has not been able to though without any regularity ; but, after take furlough, nor has hia health neoea- her firat vain and barren attempt to write aitated hia being sent home on sick fur­ to him, he exacted from her the most lough. Bnt in 1877, after some seventeen minute weekly record of how she employed years' continuous serrice, he finds himself every moment of her time, and not only of at last able to afford a trip to England, and her atndiea. She had begun faithfidly. arranges to go with Jones. But poor But presently — and withont the least Smith, although, in India, equal to Jones intention or thought of suppression— in point of pay, in England finds himself certain little incidents began to drop out worse off than his comrade, to the extent of her diary. There had always been a of some forty ponnds a year. Surely an secret undertone of sympathy between this unfair position for the man who has done iU-matched father and daughter, bnt never the work." confidence ; and confidence doea not spring "It is hardly fair to throw the blame of up aa quickly, or even as surely, as one of what appears to be a half-measure on Lord Lord Quorne's cucumbers—or certain other Salisbury," sums up Sir Hercules Brinjal. gourds. He had taught her to be shy, " He did what was asked of him by Colonel and set up a barrier of reticence between Boisragon, in whoae case law and justice even her own right and left hands. How were clear enough. Colonel Boisragon could she possibly write to John March very properly confined himself to hia own catalogues of the land-parties to Waaren contract, and gained hia cauae. Juatice and elsewhere, of the chatter of a parcel to the officers who were not fortunate of boys and girla, of the thousand and one enough to have the opportunity of elec­ little interests into which she fell, but that tion, can only be done by rescinding the would want a far more practised and more Duke of ArgyU's troublesome order alto­ fluent pen than hers to make even intelli­ gether." gible ? It wonld be like offering a handful And the prayer of the Cardamom Club of daisies to a lion—or a bear. And so it is not " God bless the Duke of Argyll." came to pass, that the name of Walter Gordon was among the triflea that dropped out of her diary. And the chatter of her STRAIfGE WATERS. friend Lotte waa another—and, in short., everything that makes np life, to which BT R. B. FRANCILIJON, work hardly ever belongs. Let the hardest AUTHOB OF "OLYHPIA," "PIAEL AM) DIEBALD," 4o. 4o. atudent think, and—unleas he be another John March—realise how little time and BOOK II. thonght hia work takes up, compared with CHAPTEE I. GOING HOME. the merest everyday trifles. IT had been with a not altogether Ught So Celia had duly chronicled her sing­ heart that, when the time came, Celia had ing of Infelice at a atndenta' concert, only to leave Lindenheim. She had been there omitting, out of shyness, the praise and three whole yeara, and had never ao much the envy that it gained her; but she had aa dreamed of going home. From year'a never mentioned the receipt of a bunch of end to year'a end she had lived at the riolets, though it had interested her ten apothecary's at the sign of The Golden thousand times more. Nor—for how on Lion, in a round of hard work and quiet earth could she explain what she did not Charles Dickens.] STRANGE WATERS. [October 13,1877.] 237

understand ?—her plighted friendship with sadly, after placing her hand over the Walter Gordon. It seemed so natural, and muscle where poets have chosen to locate yet so strange ; so easy, and yet so unac­ the passions. " No; it is absolutely calm. countable. I'm disappointed in you, CeUa. I thought It was at least two months after hor it would be so nice to have a rival I liked, troth-plight to an eternal flirtation, after instead of that odious lima. It would the sense, or nonsense, of Lindenheim, that have been so delightful for us to be jealous Lotte said to her in her little room at The of one another together, and agree upon Golden Lion: what we were to feel. Do tell me what " It is time you should tell me something you think of Herr Walter, Celia." about your emotions, Celia." " I Uke him very much indeed. He is Celia understood German very fairly by very kind to me, and I am very grateful. this time, but the question puzzled her a Tou and he are my two friends." Httle. " Celia, you are a downright goose out " My emotions ? " of heaven. It's your feathers that Dame " Of course. I want to compare them HoUe shakes down at Christmas. It's my with mine. Do you know, Celia, I'm not belief that you're a great deal fonder of altogether satisfied with my own. If I Herr Walter than I am—there ! I know like yours better, we'll change emotions what's English for kindness and gratitude. for a little while." It is 'loaf,' my dear child." "By all means," said Celia. "I should She sighed sentimentally, and then like some emotions very much indeed. laughed, like a wise woman of the world— Are they really so pleasant ? " of Lindenheim—at nineteen. "Now, that ia Herr Walter all over! Nevertheless, Herr Walter was very As if you didn't know very well. Really, kind, and Celia waa very grateful. He my dear child, there is something very had opened the windows of her life, and extraordinary about you. Tou have been let in the sun ; how much they needed months at Lindenheim, and you have not opening he might guess, bnt conld not only been constant yourself, bnt the cause know. He gave aomething more than of constancy in—Herr Walter. Do you mere hnman interest to her days, and kept know what I should say if we weren't in hia word in the matter of conatancy. And Lindenheim ? " the leaat tonch of aympathetic human "What?" intereat waa a revelation to a girl, who had " Why, that Herr Walter is downright been taught to look upon the whole round in love with yon—over head and ears—the world aa bnt a pendant to a church organ, real thing. Only, of course, that's im­ and aa a dead body to be inspired by an aa possible." yet unwritten score for voices and full Celia flushed rose-pink, as girls do who orchestra. have heard of Love but never seen him. He gave her a great deal to wonder at " There !" cried Lotte, clapping her and to remember, besides that talk on the hands together. " If that isn't jnst way to Waaren and that other talk on her charming! Oh, if I conld only have an way from her firat lesson. Very few days emotion again that would come like that, paased withont his bringing life into her it would save me in rouge for ever so round, and so putting heart into her work long. But, you see, I've had so many. and her waking. He cultivated an ac­ Do, please, tell me how you feel." quaintance with the apothecary's family " Very well, thank you," said Celia. at The Golden Lion, and very often spent " Oh, you English! Tou haven't got an hour or so there before joining the an impulse in you—not a sentiment even. good company that met later on at The I used to love, oh, passionately, when I Stadt Dresden. He broke up the Quakers'- first came to Lindenheim. I never could meeting character of the school concerts, hear the name of Walter without turning by sitting by Celia and her chaperon. He as red as a boiled lobster and feeUng my gave her flowers and chocolate. It was heart beat till I was afraid for my stays. aU according to the strict code of Linden­ Of course I'm desperately in love with heim etiquette, save in the matter of con­ him stUl, only it's more aentimental; but atancy ; and there was nothing about it all it does enrage me to see anybody elae that would be called lover-like anywhere. taking first love as quietly as one's first No donbt Herr Walter liked the rela­ music lesson. But it can't be—isn't your tion, or it may be assumed that it wonld heart beating—wildly? No," she said not have continued. She conld feel and 238 [October 13,1877.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Conducted by understand the kindneaa of heart that firat matter likely to trouble a man who never drew the leader of Lindenheim society to had more than one paramount idea, and throw the shelter of his friendship over to whom detaUs—save in his score—were the shy and friendleas new girl. It was nothing and nowhere. But the sudden not hia fault that the first rose of May in aummona told her that it waa not an easy her heart should be made to bud under his thing to leave Lindenheim, even to go sunshine. However little the snn may home. think of the rose, the rose must needa think a great deal of the sun. That in­ What a strange experience ia always finitely delicate thing vrithont a name, that same " going home! " that is in no aense love but might be love, After even a short absence, when many that feela itself without thinking, that things have happened, it ia a mixture of enjoys itself without knowing—that per­ deaires and preaentiments not always of fume without blossom, music without the most comfortable kind. When we are notes, that is nowhere possible, save in fairly away from it, home ia just as mere some days of spring and some hearts of a shadow as atrange countries are when girla—had already come to her; and how we are at home. For three whole yenrs, waa he to know ? And yet he muat have from girlhood to weU-nigh womanhood, felt the fragrance of it a little, or he would Lindenheim had been home to Celia. It never have become so intimate with the contained all her real interests, however apothecary at The Golden Lion. guilty she might feel in owning such a But he had left Lindenheim vrith a thing. She had not seen her father. She promise to write, and had kept his promise could picture him well enough, at will, to the extent of two long and three abort drawing thunder from the organ or toiling lettera. That waa a great deal for a man at that never-ending score; but he had who had left Lindenheim for Rome. The become almost like a dream of childhood, " Good-bye " was perfectly simple—it was and not of a kind that people like to only tacitly underatood that their atudent- dream over again. The grim, grotesque friendship waa to last for ever. The incarnation of gnome-like labour, liring matter-of-faet Celia believed it; ahe wonld apart from hia kind in the gloom of a honse have believed it no more fully had the that must surely be haunted and saturated understanding been sworn to. She had with ghosts of half-born harmonies, fell no theories about friendship, and assumed like frqat over the Saxon Arcadia, with that "once" in all cases meana once ita free, frank life, ita youth, ita hopes, for all. ita aympathiea, and ita sunshine. She Of courae ahe miased Herr Walter. could have remained there contentedly, Nay, ahe waa so eccentric, for a Linden­ she thought, all her life long; going heim student, aa to remember him. But home was like leaving home. And then it waa not as we misa what we loae. He there were more things to leave behind in had left her a legacy. And thia was an Lindenheim than were actually there. infinite faith iu the annahine. Her heart That lilac-dream waa bound up with crept a little back into itaelf, in ita mouse­ Lindenheim; it aeemed to refuse trans­ like way, but she had her work left, and plantation to Deepweald. Going home an assurance that there was sUent sym­ waa like going back to childhood—and pathy with her somewhere in the world. slavery. And then Lotte left Lindenheim. And Bnt, after she once found herself in the then, at last, it drew near to her own Engliah railway train, came the desires time for leaving. She had written to her and the preaentimenta in force; Linden­ father to tell him of the approaching end heim waa falling back for awbUe into of her course and asking what she was to dreamland. What change would she find ? do. For all answer she had received these She was not the same Celia. She found few lines: heraelf contemplating her old aelf as from " Dear CeUa. Don't wait. Don't take an outer point of view; and, if she even your diploma. Tou must not be labeUed. to heraelf had changed ao much, what Arrange to return instantly. I shaU would remain unchanged? Could her expect you daily. J. M." three years of tranaformation have passed No eccentricity from home surprised over her father vrithont a aign ? She had her, even though in the present instance the illuaion of Lindenheim on her that she it obUged her to travel alone from Linden­ had grown old there; ao what muat her heim to Deepweald. That was not a father be P The old names and associa-

P Oharles Dickena.] STRANGE WATERS. [October 13,1877.] 239

tions grew up before her oddly. While room had changed aa little aa the cathedral, she had been turning into a woman, as except that the old litter had grojyn into she thought, waa Mr. Gaveston still read­ tenfold confusion, and that its stale cloudi­ ing the same poems, to the same fifteen ness aeemed to apeak of the pipe and the representatives of St. Dorcas? was Mr. score, not indulged in at odd moments bnt Swann still cracking the same jokes ? waa at least four-and-twenty hours a day, or Mrs. Swann still snoring the self-same more if they could anywise be squeezed in. snore ? It waa hardly poasible; even And what did the girl mean by saying, Deepweald muat surely have been spin­ "He don't go to church now?" Even ning round in some way all thia while. aa Celia entered she heard the chanting And, if not, she would be coming home of afternoon service through the closed among them all as a atranger, bringing windows. with her unknown experiences, no more in­ There he still sat at his battered escri­ telligible at Deepweald than the Lanreate'a toire, the dwarfish, broad-shouldered figure poetry had been three yeara ago. After of the organist, aa if he had never atirred all, it would be less strange to meet Herr from it for three yeara. He muat have Walter in the flesh in front of the Shire been absorbed in his score indeed, for HaU, than to see the cathedral tower where neither her knock, nor the crunching of it had alwaya been. the fiy-wheela on the rough gravel, nor her And yet, there it did stand. She had entrance into the room diatnrbed him. In never thought of noticing it before; but the far old timea she would not have dared now the sight of it made her nerves breathe diaturbance when he waa so deeply thrill and her heart beat, as it had not occupied. The force of revived habit beaten under Fraulein Lotto's experiment. came upon her, and she stood waiting— She came back one autumn afternoon. hardly knowing whether she yearned to Nobody had met her—no doubt her father throw her arms round him, or whether to was adding a semiquaver to his score. It creep quietly upstairs and cry. looked very gray, a little grayer and older The scratching of the pen atill continued. it seemed to her, againat the pale blue of She conld bear it no longer, and at last, the sky. The elma were turning brown, without moring towards him, said, in and there waa the quiet keennesa in the air, acarcely above a whiaper: that comea before the leavea fall. The " I am come home." rooks were coming home early. How She had learned to write the word unspeakably, strangely familiar it all was, " father," but she could not speak it for and at the same time how unspeakably the first time. atrange! The very gravel of The Close "I am come home," she aaid a little looked oddly; and there waa her houae of more boldly. Bnt the scratching still went bondage on. Flutteringly, almoat timidly, she got out Presently it stopped. "I am come of her fiy and knocked at the door. Not home," she aaid a third time, ao that he so timid had ahe felt at her own father's must hear. Bat he did not turn round. threshold when ahe had disobeyed him for An awe feU upon her. She had been the first time by hearing MademoiaeUe away ao long, and there waa a weird feel­ Clari sing. She felt terribly alone, and ing about the dim room, and the silent, missed Herr Walter here, where he could motionless figure, and for an audible back­ not be, even more than at Lindenheim. ground, the dull chant outside. The door was opened by a slovenly girl, " Father! " she cried out for the first who stared at her and her luggage. time since she was bom. But she could " Where ia my father ? " not have moved a step towards him for the " Eh, ma'am ? " world. " I am Miss March," Celia had to The pen went on again. Another chord explain. " Where is my father ? Is he was added to the acore. at the cathedral ? " Something terrible was growing out of " No, ma'am—misa. He'fl be in the this petrifaction of time. Had he really study. He don't go to church now." sat there so long as to have become bnt an " Is he well ? " incarnate score ? She knew not after how " He's much like as mostly. Ton'll find long, but at last he rose and turned round. him in there." " Celia I " She left her luggage to take care of Her own name in that voice like a deep itself, and opened the study door. The organ stop opened all the gates of the old cx= =^ [October 13,1877.] 240 ALL THE TEAR ROUND. life, and woke up the room. As little as grotesqnenesa by a power that forbade she cqpld have moved towards him before, any man ever to smile at him, forcing an could she keep herself now from flying to unwiUing voice from the girl before him. him—for the first time. But he held out He did not release her till she had gone both his hands. throngh the whole scena from beginning " Wait—are yon in time ? Don't speak. to end. " I see yon sing well," he said abruptly. Sing." ... , " I think—I think I could have heard you Celia was nsed to eccentricities too seven days ago. WeU, I waited too long." well, and had grown to gather too much systematic meaning in them, to imagine "Good Heaven, father, what do yon that during her absence her father's brain mean?" had been affected by soUtude and the " The score is nearly finished. It won't score. She could well enough com­ take more than a few years more, now. prehend, knowing him, his anxiety as to By that time you will be in your prime." the result of Lindenheim, and his im­ He was speaking very calmly, in his deep patience to be satisfied. She looked for voice; but there was a harsh tone in it, no aigna of affection. Bnt this welcome new to her, as if the organ stops were home was a Uttle too cruel. She had growing out-worn—a sort of dull despair found at least one thing in Lindenheim— in it, far more moving than any outburst a hnman aonl; and it waa too yonng and of passion wonld have been. There was unfledged to be caUona to wounding. affectation of stoicism even, harder to bear " Sing, Celia," he said again. than the agonised tone in which, three Her arrival home in the autumn after­ years ago, he had made a long-forgotten noon, her firat sight of the gray tower prediction of the doom that was upon him; after three years, her faUing back into for ahe remembered that now, and under­ the old air, the Ulac buds she had brought stood all. with her from Lindenheim, had already He had been giring np life, and aU that filled her heart to overflovring. It seemed —as she had come to know—life means, sweUing and choking her. Instinctively for the achievement of a perfect work and she thought of Walter, who now seemed a perfect voice, that he who made them to personify aU sympathy. Sing! She would never hear. A dumb orator, a conld not speak even. She could not even blind painter, a deaf musician—which is cry till she could escape into solitude. the more terrible doom ? " Ton are not singing," said her father. Celia conld only cry out, and, at last, What was she to do ? Obedience was with a full heart, fall upon his neck—his the first law of her nature. It came on real child at laat come home. Lindenheim her vrith double force because of her free­ faded into mist, and waa forgotten; here dom. She conld not sing; but she made alone waa reality. She broke into a shower a painful effort, and managed to sob out of love and pity over the strong man who the firat few notes of Infelice. It waa the had done hia best to crush her own life aa firat muaic that came to her. well as hia own, under the altar of art that He kept hia eyes fixed on her. Did he had tried to raiae. they give her atrength, or did they only He muat have had a heart somewhere, compel her weakness to seem like strength, and not merely a acore. Aa ahe fell on against her wiU ? There waa no absurdity her kneea before him with her arms still in the situation to him or to her. Mechani- round him and her tears falling, she felt caUy she drew her breath harder to keep one warm tear fall on her face, and not down the choking sobs, and the ball rising her own. in her throat, and forced herself to bring out the bare notea with the more power Now ready, price Bs. 6d., bound is. green cloth, for the effort that it cost her. He atiU watched her lipa, her throat, her eyea. THE EIGHTEENTH VOLUME Anyone auddenly entering, wonld have OF THE NBW SBEIES OF thought it a piece of mesmerism or wizard- ALL THE YEAR ROUND. craft, to see the organist, redeemed from To be had of all Booksellers.

Tkt Bight of Tramslating Artideafrom ALL TH« TBAB Bouim it reserved by the Authors.

Published at the Office, S6, Wellington Street, Strand. Printed by CUAKIIS DICKINS & EVASS, Crystal Pahce Frcss.