UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. M KT OK succession 5.8.43.' Class -^ REALMAH. REALMAH. BY THE AUTHOR OF "FRIENDS IN COUNCIL." NEW EDITION. v\ OF THE UNIVERSITY MACMILLAN AND CO. 1885- LONDON : RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, BREAD STREET HILL, B.C. r H I TO JOHN ROBINSON M'CLEAN, ESQ., PAST PRESIDENT OF THE INSTITUTION OF CIVIL ENGINEERS, F.G.S., F.S.S., F.A.S. THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED, WITH THE GREATEST AFFECTION AND ESTEEM, BY HIS SINCERE FRIEND, THE AUTHOR. NOVEMBER, 1868. " No, Master Scholasticus, I am not one of those academick eremites -who think ifutt they can apprehend great matters, by taking refuge in their book-rooms, and perpending their own thoughts only. But I do mightily affect and desiderate tJu son-verse of learned and worthy persons who -will obtest against my chaunting foolish litanies before the idols of my own conceit, who will chastise the fondness of my imaginations, and chase away the bewildering humours and fancies which beset me when I hearken only to my poor and most unworthy self. For who, indeed, at one trait, and from his own small treasury of observance, shall -veritably depict even the loveliness of these dumb and thoughtless glades, basques, and rivulets which surround us ? This man seeth tJtetn when Phoebus is smiling, and that man, when the God of day is obnubilated not to speak of the various moods of men, which moods, whether they are gladsome or melancholy, fanciful or dull, do enchant or disenchant, for the men themselves, the outward forms and shows of nature. Therefore, always am I desireful to hear what my friends will say upon any matter that doth admit high and various disfou^se. And though the cautelous tregetour, or, as the men of France do call him, tJte jongleur, doth make a very pretty play with two or three balls which seem to live in the air, and which do not depart from him, yet I would rather, after our old English fashion, have the ItU tossed from hand to hand, or that one should propulse the ball against tJu little guichet, while another should repel it with the batting-staff. This I hold io be the fuller exercise and the more pleasant pastime" An unpublished fragment from the MS. of "ANE AuNdENTE CLKRKF." CONTENTS. PAG a CHAPTER I c , ..."... I CHAPTER II. 8 CHAPTER III 27 THE STORY OF REALMAH : CHAP. I. The Lake City 28 CHAP. II. The Religion and Government of the Sheviri . 31 CHAPTER IV 46 THE STORY OF REALMAH : CHAP. III. The Two Wives 52 CHAP. IV. The Council 57 CHAPTER V 62 THE STORY OF REALMAH : CHAP. V. Realmah visits Talora 71 CHAP. VI. The Treachery of the Phelatahs ... 77 PAGE CHAPTER VI 89 THE STORY OF REALMAH : CHAP. VII. The Festival 98 CHAP. VIII. Realmah's Courtship 101 CHAP. IX. Reaiman is accused of Impiety .... 108 CHAP. X. Realmah's Appearance before the Four Hundred 112 CHAPTER VII 131 THE STORY OF REALMAH :- CHAP. XL The Sheviri take the Field against the Phelatahs Realmah is made Prisoner . . . 142 CHAP. XIL The Perils of a Spy 145 CHAP. XIII. The Escape from Prison ..... 151 CHAP. XIV. The Flight 156 CHAP. XV. The Final Danger 163 CHAPTER VIII 175 THE STORY OF REALMAH : CHAP. XVI. Realmah's Failure 197 CHAP. XVII. Realmah's Depression 209 CHAP. XVIII. The Loves of Realmah and the Ainah 213 CHAP. XIX. Realmah's Success 222 CHAP. XX. Realmah's Grief. The use made of Iron in Abibah 235 TAGS CHAPTER IX 241 CHAPTER X. 267 THE STORY OF REALMAH : CHAP. XXI. The Revolution 270 CHAP. XXII. Realmah becomes King 277 CHAP. XXIII. The King provides against Famine His Councillors 281 CHAPTER XI 292 CHAPTER XII 307 THE STORY OF REALM AK : CHAP. XXIV. Realmah's Danger from Conspiracies . 319 CHAP. XXV. Realmah's great Enemy, Brishee- Brashee-Vah 32^ CHAP. XXVI. The Invasion 329 CHAP. XXVII. Realmah's Preparations for the Siege His Plan of the Campaign 335 CHAP. XXVIII. Account of the Campaign The In- terview between Realmah and Athlah The Battle of the Plain 338 CHAP. XXIX. The Commencement of the Siege . . 343 x PACK CHAP. XXX. The Conduct of the Varnah during the Siege 347 CHAP. XXXI. The Last Days of the Siege . . . . 350 CHAPTER XIII 362 CHAPTER XIV 370 CHAPTER XV 389 THE STORY OF REALMAH: CHAP. XXXII. The Sham Fi^ht 394 CHAP. XXXIII. Realmah's great Project .... 398 CHAPTER XVI 424 THE STORY OF REALMAH : CHAP. XXXIV. The King's Birthday . ... 425 CHAP. XXXV. The Festival of the Foundation of Abibah 429 CHAP. XXXVI. The King's Speech 432 CHAP. XXXVn. The Death of the King .... 442 CHAPTER XVII ... 454 REALMAH. REALMAH. ** CHAPTER I. " DON'T read any more of that newspaper to me. I will not listen to any more of it. What a world it is I what an ill-conditioned planet ! As if there was not enough to do to extract a living from this difficult earth, as if there was not enough to do to manage our private affairs, sufficiently confused by every kind of folly, but we must rush into wars ; l and, for the sake of dynastic ambitions, sacrifice the lives of tens of thousands of our fellow-creatures ! " What quarrelsome wretches we are ! I do believe that if the arrangements of the world were such that we were placed upon separate pillars each of us being a Simeon Stylites we should contrive to do each other a great deal of mischief. Our food might be brought to us by benevolent birds. We should save it up in order to make a hard substance of it to hurl at the heads of our neighbours, whom we should hate with a truly neighbourly hatred ; or we should make such hideous grimaces at one another, that the weaker brethren would drop from their pillars for fear of the hatred of the stronger ; and then the stronger would clap their hands and laugh. " Here is a middle-aged man toiling away, not grudgingly, for a large family. His life is not too 1 This work was commenced, as the reader will perceive, some time ago. B BLealmak [CHAP happy in itself, but he is tolerably contented with it, having merged all his own desires and hopes in the happiness of those dear to him. He little thinks, poor man, that the wild fanaticism of some statesman, upon whose mind he cannot hope to have the faintest influence, will be the means of removing him from the face of the earth, leaving his family to the mercy of a world not too tender-hearted to the friendless and the poor. The result is, that such a man is pro- foundly interested in the ill-doings of all the ill- doers who inhabit not only the regions nearest to him, but those who inhabit what to him are the ends of the earth. " Then look at government : what a thing it is, even in the best-governed communities ! True it is, there are a few nations who enjoy something like constitu- tional government; but what a wilderness of empty talk goes on amongst them, and how little comes from it ! " There was a poet who compared man to a heavily- laden ass, driven by a brutal owner; and the pocr ass learnt the right road only by heavy blows being administered to it whenever it diverged to the right or the left of the road marked out for it by its cruel master. "Then there is the vanity of man that unap- peasable, inexhaustible vanity, always longing to be first. Nobody seems to see the beauty of being second or third. As Carlyle says, ' We are like snakes in a bottle, all wriggling about and endeavour- ing to get uppermost, biting and hissing at one another.' " Then look at the progress of Christianity. Even the most astute theologian has not been able, in his bewildering tomes, utterly to obscure the innate beauty of that grand religion. It has now been more than eighteen centuries before the world ; and when a i.] gfeateia; 3 great opportunity comes for manifesting what it has done, we hear only of ' My rights,' ' My honour,' * My glory/ ' My just demands,' and every fanatical folly that dynastic ambition can produce. " The truth is, man is not great enough for the place he holds in creation. If Darwin's theory is right, there, is much of the ape nature still left in us, and we are still as mischievous as monkeys. " Yet I suppose it is all right somehow, and that my thoughts are mere chimeras ; but how are we to get over the sufferings imposed upon the brute creation ? " I believe I should not care about war so much, if it were not for the poor horses. If this war goes on, there will be at least a quarter of a million of these poor creatures sacrificed to it, with every variety of suffering. I begin to wish we had never subdued them. " Well, sir, and what do you say to all this ? What answer do you give to all my doubts and difficulties ? There is wisdom in the mouths of babes and sucklings. What says my young metaphysician, and most judi- cious private secretary ? " " Well, sir, I say ditto to Mr. Burke." " Ah ! I wish you would not say ' ditto,' but provide me with some answer to all my ugly questions." It was the foregoing outbreak on the part of my master that first made me think of writing this story, and therefore I put it at the beginning. And now I shall commence to tell who I am, and whom I serve. My name is Alexander Johnson. I was born of poor parents. Indeed, my father was the village blacksmith as good a man as ever made a horse- shoe, and I was the clever boy of the village, the first monitor at the National schools, who was always shown as a native prodigy to admiring visitors. Kind B 2 4 esmaf. [CHAP. friends determined that I should have a better education than most boys of my class ; and they got me placed in the map-drawing department of a neighbouring town, where in the evening I learnt some Latin. To tell the truth, I did not think a little of myself. The neighbouring Squire, proud of the clever boy whose cleverness had been developed in his village, chose me as tutor to his sons and daughter. The result so common in such cases happened to me. The sons were stupid, but the daughter made marvellous progress; and I, though her tutor, was to some extent her pupil ; for, with feminine tact, she taught me the rules of behaviour, and by her shrewd and subtle questions in our studies often taxed my ingenuity to answer. Need I say that we loved one another, or at least that I loved her passionately, and that she had some regard who knows how much ? for me ; but it was arranged that she should marry the neighbouring Lord's younger son.; who, however, had the merit, not always belonging to younger sons, of having a very sickly elder brother. The man was stupid and heavy : at any rate, he seemed so to me. His talk was of horses, and dogs, and guns. Why should I make an ordinary story long ? Whatever he was, he succeeded in gaining the consent of her parents ; and my Annie to whom, as an honourable man, I never breathed a word to show what my feelings were towards her agreed, after displaying the greatest reluctance, to marry this ordinary man. I could no longer bear to be near her, and went up to London to try my fortune there. I put an advertise- ment in The Times, setting forth as best I could my poor acquirements and abilities ; and, strange to say, my advertisement was answered by a request to call on him, made by a well-known political perse n Mr. Milverton. i.] He told me that the simplicity and directness of my advertisement had caught his attention, and that if I were anything like what I represented myself to be, I should suit him very well. It was agreed that I should go and stay with hin: at his country house, to which he was then going for the vacation. The way in which I entered my new situation was one that caused me some terror. It was arranged that I was to meet Mr. Milverton, at a town seven miles distant from his residence. It was evening when I reached this town, and we immediately set off for his residence in a post-chaise. Our horses went very slowly, and when we came to a hill, Mr. Milverton proposed that we should get out and walk. He began talking to the post-boy about the appearance of his horses, which seemed dreadfully jaded ; he soon extracted from him the fact that these poor animals had previously gone a journey of thirty miles. Upon this, Mr. Milverton became furious. I never saw a person in so grotesque a passion. He explained to the wretched post-boy (by the way, an elderly man) the Pythagorean system, and declared to him that he himself might be a post-horse in another life. And he told the post-boy all this with expressions of the strongest nature. The poor man seemed too dazed to make any other than the most incoherent replies. When we got into the carriage again, we were silent for a few minutes, till Mr. Milverton turned to me and said : " You are frightened, are you not ? You think you have come to live with a tiger ; but the truth is, nothing infuriates me like cruelty to animals. Poor creatures, they can't speak up for themselves, and if there were not some one to speak up for them even to get into a fury about their treatment it would go worse with them even than ii does now." CHAP. We had another walk up another hill : Mr. Milver- ton kept aloof from us this time, and the post-boy communicated to me his grievances. " We should not have done it to please any one but the Squire ; but we were afraid of offending him. I am sure I would rather have thunder and lightning than be talked to by him. He is an awful man, the Squire : he is." When the journey was finished, I expected that the post-boy would be dismissed ignominiously ; but, on the contrary, Mr. Milverton, after insisting that the horses should remain at his place during the night, addressed the post-boy, very gravely and seriously, and gave him the accustomed fee, on making him promise (repeating the words after him), " That never again, not for anybody, not for the Queen herself, should he consent to start his horses upon a journey, after they had performed such a day's work as these poor animals had done." I must confess I was a little frightened at perceiving the possible violence of the man with whom I had come to live in such a dependent position ; but I have now lived with him some years, and he has never said an unkind word to me ; and the terms upon which we are, may be well shown by the way in which he half-laughingly appealed to me after he had uttered the foregoing soliloquy. I imagine in the course of this story which I firmly, believe will be a very interesting one, that I shall appear, though my name is Johnson, Y.O be a sort of Boswell. I do not care. How can a man do greater service at least, such a man as I am, who have not much originality than in preserving for the world the sayings of cleverer men than himself under whom he has served ? How large a part of all that wisdom has been lost to mankind for want of Boswells ! who, perhaps, are rarer characters than Dr. Johnsons. They i.] say that no man is a hero to his valet ; to which, it has been well replied, that that is not because the hero is not a hero, but because the valet is nothing more than a valet. I have said that I am not a man of much originality, but I think I have one quality in great excess which happens to be very useful now. I confess to being intensely curious about character, and the manifesta- tions of character. My master often jokes me about this, and says, " Now, my boy, you are looking into me, and endeavouring to find out what I think, and what I feel : and you may find it out, for all I care." I think I have sufficiently introduced myself to the reader, and may now bring- my principal personages on the scene. |lcalmafr. [CHAP CHAPTER II. WE often, especially from a Saturday to a Tuesday have visits here from well-known people ; authors poets, sculptors, dramatists, and the writers of leading articles. I think I have detected something in my master which is very characteristic of him. He loves people who have done something : he often quotes a saying of the First Napoleon : "What has he done ?" and I think he has a dislike, which is almost morbid, to mere criticism. He will allow that the critics have their place in the world, but he puts it as secondary, with an immense interval between them and those persons who have done the work which the others merely criticise. He was lately delighted with a paragraph in " Ecce Homo," in which the author pointed out how our Saviour encouraged what was positive in Christian action, taking as an illustration of the contrary the safe man who wrapped up his talent in a napkin. Mr. Milverton was always very hard upon these kind of persons, " safe statesmen," " safe bishops," " safe authors," who never say or do anything but what is sure to meet with general ac- ceptation. He used to quote that saying of Benjamin Constant's about some " safe " person : " II vient toujours au secours du plus fort." But all this is interruption, and mere comment on my part upon what I ought to describe. We had met in a summer-house at the corner of the grounds at Worth-Ashton, which commands an extensive view over the neighbouring downs. There were present Mr. Milverton, Sir John Ellesmere, and i great politician, to whom I shall give the name of Sir Arthur Godolphin, a Mr. Mauleverer, and Mr. Cranmer. The conversation turned upon sleep. Of course, the saying of Sancho Panza was quoted : " Blessed is the man who invented sleep ; it wraps one round like a blanket." Sir Arthur then took up the conversation, and related to us the following adventure : " You all know how fond I am of yachting : I do not know that in itself it is so very delightful, but one's yacht is the only place in the world in which one is perfectly secure from letters and telegrams." Ellesmere. The abomination of desolation of the present time ; I can only say I wish that we were back in the olden times, that Milverton was a piratical baron (as I know he would be), devastating all these peaceful valleys, and levy- ing black-mail upon all travellers that passed, so that we were not plagued with these modern inventions. Now you all praise Rowland Hill, Wheatstone, Stephenson, Watt, and all those people who have made communication more rapid. I say, that they have been unbounded nuisances to the world. As to the man who invented the penny post, he ought to be put to a disgraceful death. By the way, I quite agree with that man of business who declared that he would only meet the great evil once a day. All his letters were collected for him during the day, and at ten o'clock the next morning he would face them ; but as to anything that came in the meantime he entirely declined to look at it, whether it were marked "Immediate," "Urgent," "Press- ing," or " Most important." When I was Attorney-General I used to hate the " Urgent," " Pressing," " Very pressing " letters that came from public offices. In general, they merely communicated some calamity which no human being could do anything to avoid or lessen. Milverton. I once knew a telegram do some good. Ellesmere. Once! and how many times has it done evil? Cranmer. If you are serious, Sir John, your words strike a blow at all modern civilization. ro jlcalmufr. [CHAP. Ellesmere. Well, if they do, I don't care. Modern civilization is no particular friend of mine. Milverton. We have sadly interrupted Sir Arthur; and am sure he was going to tell us something which would be very interesting. Sir Arthur. We think we know the whole of the in- habited globe, but we are greatly mistaken. First, however, I must talk to you about yachting. I began in a very small way. I used to have a yacht which was manned by myself and one old man, and our great excursions were chiefly from Southampton to the Isle of Wight. But how delight- ful they were! You can hardly imagine the pleasure of sail- ing along on a moonlight night, the most common-place objects being suffused with beauty. All that Lord Byron has said about the Coliseum, as seen by moonlight, applies to the commonest and most ill-formed buildings on the Southampton waters ; and then the talk of my old sailor used to amuse me so much. He, like many of us, had gone through a rough and severe life. He had lost children. He had lost a scolding wife, who, with all her faults, he used to look up to and reverence as a superior being. " My Betsy," he would say, " knew a mort more than I do. Ah ! you should have heard her talk; I wish she were here now." I cannot say I entirely shared that wish, being contented with the views of life which my old friend could give me in his pleasant simple way. Well, the great Godolphin case which you have all heard of was settled, and I became rich. Of course, on this change of fortune, my old man and I were not con- tented with our little yacht not that I ever had such pleasures as in that little yacht and we bought one which, as he used to say, "was equal to Portsmouth biscuit;" a yacht that did not fear the Bay of Biscay. After a hard parliamentary session, Spraggs (that was the name of my old man) and I undertook an adventurous cruise. We had always a curiosity to see those islands that had been formed out of coral, and we lost our way amongst them, and came one day upon an island which I believe has been seen by no other civilized men. Menantra is its name. The natives rushed down to see us, and welcomed us with the utmost cordiality. They spoke a language which was a little like Basque, and as I had mastered that lan- guage, I was tolerably able to understand them, and to make myself understood. One young man especially at- tached himself to me. His name was Connarra. One evening I was talking about the chief town of the island with my friend Connarra, when he said to me, " Great stranger, it is nothing for you to see new towns and new people, but for me, ever since I have known you, my life has been a state of wild excitement. Although I am not very rich, I must go to the sleep-shop and spend my money in sleep. By the way, it is strange that you and your men never go to the sleep-shop." In my travels I have found that it is never desirable to ask for explanations about anything which you can see for yourself; so, though I had not the remotest idea of what he meant by a sleep-shop, I accompanied him to the shop in question as if it were a familiar thing to me. Cranmer. There was a town, I suppose, of some mag- nitude ? Ellesmere. Pray give us some of those circumstances, Sir Arthur, which we know always attend a truthful narra- tive like yours. Sir Arthur. The town was in the form of a cross. The constellation of the Southern Cross seems to have made the deepest impression on the minds of those who dwell under it. The town chiefly consisted of well-built huts or wigwams ; but there are some buildings made of bricks dried in the sun. The town was always enlarged symmetri- cally. At the point where the two lines met which formed the cross, there was a square. This also was enlarged by pulling down buildings when the two lines that formed the cross were lengthened. I will not trouble you with a description of the religion of these islanders and of their form of government, except just to mention that they were governed by a chief, who ruled eight years, having a council to assist him. The only curious thing about the council was, that the united ages of the councillors (there were ten) were always to equal if possible 530. Directly they exceeded this number by ten 12 ^caimag. [CHAP. a. councillor went out of office, and a man was chosen to fill his place whose age should make the sacred number 530 right. It was not always the oldest councillor who retired. To return to the sleep-shop. It corresponded to our chemists' shops. You know what intelligent men our chemists often are ; well, in Menantra these sleep-shops were kept by men of much ability, who depended upon the Government, and took certain oaths to administer sleep righteously. The sleep-shop to which my friend Connarra took me was the large one in the great square ; in fact, the shop which had the chief's custom. After that evening I never passed a day without visiting this shop, and also a very low one of the same kind at the extreme end of the long line of the cross a shop which was much frequented by the lowest classes. You may imagine what a mine of investigation was opened to me. Cranmer. What was the sleep-medicine like ? I mean, what did it look like? Sir Arthur. I object entirely to the word " medicine.'' It was not an opiate ; it was concentrated sleep. Well, what it looked like, or rather, what it was, was a soft, semi-elastic, pulpy substance, of the most beautiful blue colour; and the value and intensity of it was exactly measured by the intensity of the blueness. To the touch it was more like a sea-anemone than any other thing or creature I ever touched. There were various kinds of this sleep substance. The lowest could only produce a troubled, dreamful sleep ; and, from this degree, it went up to that choice cerulean blue which produced the most profound and absolute repose. Cranmer. Did you bring any of it away ? Ettesmerc (aside). What a literal fellow ! just like a Secretary of the Treasury. I do think the man wants to put a tax upon it. Sir Arthur. It melted away if kept long ; lost its colour and its power, and became a white, gelatinous, unpleasant- looking substance. In that state, too, it was originally found |lealmalr. 1 3 in the centre of pieces of stone they called pompar. It turned blue on exposure to the air. There were mines of pompar worked by the Government, which possessed the monopoly. But you all want to hear what I discovered from my long talks with these chemists. I will tell you, point by point ; and you may depend upon it, each fact I have to tell you is to be explained by some corresponding fact of importance in human nature. First, I very soon learnt that women bought much cheaper kinds of this sleep, and less even of those kinds, than men. How do you explain that ? Ellesmere. The explaration is as simple as possible. They want all their money for dress. By the way, have they money in your charming island ? Sir Arthur. Yes, called Saka, a transparently yellow shell. Milverton. No ; the reason is far deeper than that. A much larger part of the anxiety, vexation, and remorse of the world is felt by men than by women ; and therefore the men want more sleep, and of the best quality. Sir Arthur. That is how I read it. Johnson (timidly). But love ! Do not women suffer as much from disappointed love as men do, or even more ? Milverton. Perhaps so, my boy ; but, when you come to our time of life, you will find that there are a great many worse things than disappointed love, requiring much heavier doses of high-priced sleep, shame, poverty, impending bankruptcy, and remorse. The middle-aged man, gradually going down in the world with lots of people depending upon him who has undertaken some unfortunate enter- prise, which, poor fellow, he meant to turn out so well, is a more pitiable object than the desponding or rejected lover. About this love there is always a sustaining power of romance. Elhsmere. Amelia marries Jones. What consoles poor Smith, thinking over it at night? He says to himself, at first with some bitterness, " Ah, she will soon find out the difference," and in a tenderer frame of thought he exclaims, " Poor thing ! how happy she would have been with me ; how happy I with her, if it had not been for that confounded 14 eamaj. [CHAP. fellow's property in houses at Mile End. D Mile End ! " And Smith goes to sleep, not so very miserable. His last thought is, " I should have been a better match, after all, than Jones." Compare this romantic sorrow with that of Robinson, who dreads rent and taxes, who humbles himself before the butcher, who fears to tell his anxious wife of this loss, and that bad debt ; and has to smile and smile, and be a pauper perhaps with a brougham, which he is afraid to put down. Cranmer. In what latitude and longitude is this island ? Sir Arthur. I will consult my master of the yacht, and let you know some day, Mr. Cranmer. Ellesmere (aside, contemptuously). Some day ! some day ! Sir Arthur. Oh, she was such a yacht, the Esmeralda ! She would almost talk to you ! Ellesmere. But sleep, sleep, sleep ! Go on, there's a good fellow, with the pith of your story. I feel inclined to use naughty words, such as Smith used to Mile End, in respect to those indispensable but tiresome creatures, lati- tude and longitude, if they are to interrupt us. Milverton. Ellesmere, who is the greatest of interrupters, is the most intolerant of any interruption but his own. Ellesmere. Don't get in a rage, Milve r fon. We shall have to buy the bluest of blue sleep-stutf for you, I see. Milverton. I must give another explanation of the fact that Sir Arthur has told us. Women enjoy the present so much more than men do, that they are not fond of having it cut short, even by supreme sleep. Sir Arthur. Now the next fact I arrived at was this, and it appears to me a remarkable one, viz. that the highest- priced sleep was not bought up so much as you would suppose. It was the fashion, however, to buy it ; to use one of the slang words of our day, it was the " swell " thing to buy nothing but the choicest sleep ; though, in reality, pretty nearly all the young girls, a great many of the young men, most of the widows, and the well-to-do people, generally consumed, on the sly, the lower-priced sleeps. On the contrary, young children almost always wished for an expensive sleep, Now, how do you account for that ? Milverton. Obviously ! the young men and the young women, the widows, and well-to-do people, liked to have their dreams. Dreams are frequently a choice part of their "lives ; whereas children, on the other hand, are often terrified by dreams. Perhaps it is that children have left the land of shadows later than we have ; and so they fear the dark, the unknown, the invisible, more than we do. In fact, these terrors by night are some of the greatest sufferings of child- hood, and we ought to be very tender to children about their fears, which often seem very unreasonable to us. Sir Arthur. Good ! I say good, because your theory agrees with mine. Now, I will tell you another extraordinary thing. The doctors did not always use the highest-priced sleeps in their compounds. Milverton. I don't understand that. Ellesmere. I do. Milverton. I know what you mean, Ellesmere. You cannot help having your sneer ; but you know as well as I do that doctors are about the best men we have in the world ; and that they delight in healing, and not in protracting illness. Ellesmere. H'm. Sir Arthur. The explanation is clear, at least to my mind. But in order to work it out, I must talk a little about myself. I once had a brain-fever, brought on by insane application to work. By the way, was it Baxter or Bunyan, or some other considerable theologian, who spoke of .** the lust of finishing?" It is a very just phrase; one has sometimes a mad desire to finish what one has once begun. Well, the doctors told me to be quiet, and especially to avoid all thinking. To give impossible prescriptions is the foible of doctors. I tried not to think ; but, after a thoughtless day, my unwholesomely active mind would not be quiet. It even revived all sorts of mathematical work done at Cambridge, which I had long forgotten. I had not the least idea that I possessed, down in the depths of my mind, such vivid reminiscences of mathematical lectures. After an ill-spent night of this kind, I came to the conclusion that some new course must be adopted. The doctors had |lcalma|r. [CHAP. ordered me to travel, and a dear friend, who is one of our best linguists, had agreed to travel with me. I said to him, "Let us learn a new language," and he readily assented. We will call him Bopp, because he often reminded me of that great grammarian. We set out on our travels, and this new language occupied a good deal of our spare thought without exciting us. Bopp, perhaps to look after me, generally slept in the next room. I would call out to him, in the middle of the night, " Are you asleep ? " " No," he would reply. "Well, after all, don't you think there is something in this language like the Greek aorist ? " Bopp would say, " Not at all," and give reasons for it ; and then he would turn upon me and say, " I should like to hear you go through that irregular verb which we learnt to-day, and which I maintain is not irregular at all, but the real old form of the conjugation." Then I had to go through, as best I could, the irregular verb ; and it is astonishing how soon it led to a comfortable sleep. So I think the medicine men in Menantra knew that they must give nature some play in the way of mental excitement, and therefore did not always administer to the sick the soundest sleep except upon urgent occasions. Ellesmere. I declare that is a very sensible view, and I begin to believe that there is such an island, which we will call Arthuria Godolphinia, and that it lies in latitude 397, longitude 486. The minutes and seconds, which I forget, will be sent to Mr. Cranmer, at the Treasury in Downing Street, when the master of the Esmeralda consults his log- book. Oh, Lady Ellesmere ! Lady Ellesmere ! (Lady Elles- mere was seen coming down the gravel-walk towards the summer-house.) You have lost such a treat (as women say, when one has missed, by pure accident, hearing thcii favourite preacher's last hour-and-a-half sermon). Oh, such beautiful things said about women by me, and contra- dicted by Mr. Cranmer : how they want no sleep because they have no remorse, no shame, no vexation, for, as Milverton and Mr. Cranmer both maintain, they have no consciences. (How I have been fighting your battles, my dear Mildred !) And I say they have consciences, because it] the existence of the negative proves the existence of the positive, and if they had no consciences how could they be so unconscionable in the article of dress? Here is this young woman coming to take the whole of the summer- house from us, with those atrocious skirts of hers. (Lady Ellesmere sat down by her husband, pulled his ear, took his hand in hers, and whispered some- thing to him.) Ellesmere. Speak out, my dear, say your say to this choice company. This young lady has the graciousness and the modesty to observe, that there is only one woman in the world who would ever have believed anything that Sir John Ellesmere addressed to her, and that she is that unfortunate young person. (Here I must remark that it is impossible not to love this man, Sir John Ellesmere. I always feel I do not do him justice. His sayings seem so hard, some- times so satirical, so perverse ; but the manner of saying them disarms all offence. He has a look of kindness and affection, when he is teasing Milverton, that wins my heart. And that wife of his is so fond of him : it almost makes one cross to see it.) EHesmere. But, my dear Sir Arthur, more about sleep. Attend, Mildred ! Sir Arthur is telling us about an island at which he arrived in a yacht, that almost spoke to him, where they sold sleep, a clammy blue stuff, like a sea- anemone (lat. 470, long. 590, minutes and seconds omitted, to the great regret of Mr. Cranmer), and where women spend all their money in dress, and therefore cannot afford to buy good sleep. Doctors the rascals prescribe second- rate sleep : young men, widowers, and widows (young widows, Lady Ellesmere) will insist upon dreaming, and therefore buy low-priced sleeps. Heavy fathers of families buy the real stuff to console themselves against the evils which attend married life. I am sure I want some. Nothing but the best sleep for me, as long as I am plagued as much as I am. Bills again : a cheque wanted ! Lady Ellesmere C [CHAP. is so loving and affectionate on such occasions ; and when she says, " My dearest love, I want to bother you about a little matter of business," I know it means a cheque of three figures at least. Oh ! I have forgotten ; in this happy island children prefer high-priced sleep, because, as Milverton says, they come more recently from the land of shadows. I call that now a clear and sensible explanation, not at all built. upon hypothesis. And now, my dear, I have told you all about it, which these people have taken an hour and three-quarters to elaborate Milverton perpetually interrupting, after his tire- some fashion. Now drive on, Sir Arthur; never mind their interruptions. I will back you up with judicious silence. Milverton. This Ishmaelite ; his tongue, if not his hand, is against everybody. Sir Arthur. I come to the saddest part of my story. As I told you, I spent a great deal of my time at the sleep- shop in the grand square. After the sun went down, and the Southern Cross was wont to shine out in all its ineffable beauty (I don't know how my crew felt, but that constellation exercised a kind of awful mysterious influence over me : I was never tired of gazing up at it), there used to come to the shop, in a stealthy manner, a wretched-looking man. His clothes (their clothes are chiefly made of the red and green mithral a kind of rush) showed what we call genteel poverty, but he always bought a small quantity of the highest-priced sleep the bluest of the blue. I talked to Alcathra, my chemist friend, about this poor man. " Ah," he said, "a man of his means cannot afford to buy such sleep. There is crime, or there is horrible disaster there. I do the best I can for him to cheapen it, and I lose by every sale I make to him." (What good people there really are everywhere !) " I know the day will arrive when that man will come no more, and I shall hear that the officers of justice have my poor customer in their clutches. But let us give the poor wretch what easement we can. You know we are sworn to secrecy, we sellers of sleep, and so I am happy to say I am not bound to denounce him. To you, as a stranger, I may speak openly." 1 was quite sure that Alcathra was right, from two ii. 1 amar, 19 circumstances which I observed myself. This poor man always walked down the middle of the street, so as to be sure he was not followed by anybody; and just before he entered the shop I have observed him clear up his coun- tenance, and try to look lively ; fearing, no doubt, lest his habitual dejection should betray him. Our surmises proved to be well founded. Two days before I left the port, this poor wretch was arrested on a charge of murder. It was not so very wicked a crime after all. He was a harsh, hard man, the criminal ; but, in his rough way, he adored his wife. The wife was false, and he had slain her lover, committing the deed very artfully. It was done at the sleep-mines, where the murderer was a superintendent of considerable authority. And now I hope you will not blame me when I tell you I saved this poor man from execution. We broke open the prison at night, an easy, task to do, as the prison was a wooden building, and I carried him off in the yacht. He died, though, a broken-hearted man, before we advanced far on our voyage homeward, for he believed, whether rightly or wrongly, that his wife had secretly denounced him to the Council, and this thought was his death-stroke. His last look upwards was at the Southern Cross, which they regard with fervent religious worship. I had become attached to the poor man : and he was, in his way, a great thinker. Strange to say, all the most difficult questions of fate, free- will, and predestination those questions which will torment even the most civilized people to the latest generation were present in the bewildered mind of that semi-savage. I don't know that it would have been possible for me to have kept the poor man alive, for the sleep-stuff I had brought with me was beginning to fade in colour ; and I remember his mentioning to me during his later days, that his dreams were horrible. I have not told you of some compound sleep-stuff which was also used in the island. I say compound, because I am sure it was mixed with some drug, though my chemist friend would never acknowledge that. It was, however, of a pink colour, and was used by those persons who had to attend public meetings, even by some of those who formed C 2 20 |UaImaJj, [CHAP. the great Council of Ten. Its effect was this : it put a man into a pleasing kind of stupor, in which state he did not care much how time passed, or what was said to him, and he could be in this state without betraying himself, for he could hear all that was said, and look sufficiently intelligent, and at the same time enjoy a semi-comatose condition, which made the length of speech a matter of indifference to him. There were rumours that the great chief himself was somewhat addicted to pink sleep, but, if so, he must have been very prudent in the use of it, for he always seemed to give an intelligent attention when listening at the great council, or receiving any of his subjects. Ellesmere. I never have liked yachting. It is true you get rid of letters and telegrams, but then you are shut up with a few people, and what becomes of you if you quarrel with them ? Besides, there is a want of space in all ships, even of the largest size, which does not suit me. I would, however, endure a long cruise in any yacht that would bring me to an island where I could buy pink sleep. You know, when I was Attorney-General, I was offered the ap- pointment of judge, but I dreaded so much having to go through the necessary amount of listening that I refused it. Listening patiently is certainly not my forte. Sir Arthur. I should not have liked to have stayed any longer in the island, though it was a most instructive place ; but I knew that, whenever I should see a poor man buying continually high-priced sleep, I should be sure to suspect him of some deadly crime. Indeed, I had already begun to suspect several individuals who frequented the upper and the lower shops, and who always went beyond their apparent means in buying high-priced sleep. And now, lady and gentlemen, my tale is told. I am afraid it is rather a sad one. There was a silence for some time. Even Ellesmere seemed subdued ; and over his mobile countenance there passed a cloud of thought, which was full of pity, but he was the first to break the silence. Ellesmere. How true are Goethe's words, that a man cannot jump away from his own shadow ! Sir Arthur in- IT.] amaf . 2 1 troduces us to this strange, sleep-buying people. There his imagination ends. He makes them have just the same motives as people in our lands, who, unhappily, cannot buy sleep, be they ever so rich in Consols. For instance, the poor wretch whom Sir Arthur carried away did but partake the fate of men in well-known climes, and the source of his misfortunes was that which, for the most part, is the source of ours. I, too, feel the impulse of genius upon me, and must tell my little story ; but it will be one that you will all easily recognise. Who is she ? " Thus spoke the Caliph, supremely wise in the knowledge of men and women. " Who is she ? I say." And the affrighted lords said, " Light cf the World, Consoler of the Faithful, Gem of Gems, Centre of the flowing Universe, there is no * she,' but the poor man, who was working at one of the loftiest windows of your palace, fell down into the marble Court of Leopards, and is dead." "Who is she?" said the Caliph, wrathfully; "let me know her name/' And the lords went out from the presence of the Caliph, feeling their heads loose upon their shoulders. And there was dread silence in the divan, while the Caliph played with the jewelled hilt of his scimitar. And one little child, the son of Zobeide, dared to take off the slipper of the Caliph, and run away with it to the further end of the divan. Had it not been the son of Zobeide, the bastinado would have been liberally applied. The lords returned, and the vizier said, " Efflux of Joy, Wisest of the Wise, Incomparable Master of the greatest of sciences, the human heart ; she is Almeida, the Princess Zobeide's favourite tire-woman, and the man said words to her, and she listened and yet would not listen ; and he missed his footing, as most men do who dote upon a woman, and he is dead." And the Caliph smiled a grim smile. He rose, and the lords, who felt their necks strengthened, fell on their faces before him ; and the Caliph went to his harem to tell his wives how wise he was, and that nobody could deceive him. 22 |lcalmalj. [CHAP. For even a caliph likes to be thought wise by his women ; whom he finds not so easy to rule, though he is Commander of the Faithful. And the lustrous Zobeide shivered and trembled while the Caliph told her of his all-pervading wisdom, for she knew that the Christian slave, Azor (who had fallen into the marble Court of Leopards), adored her, and not Almeida ; and that he had died for the love of her bright eyes. But she did not fail to extol the wisdom of the Caliph ; and the Caliph was convinced that he was the wisest of men, and that the praises of his lords were not flattery such as had been addressed, to his great disgust, to the late caliph, his father, but that they were the words of wisdom and sobriety, and were as true as the cries of the water-carriers when they cry, "Water, water, from the Fountain of Desire, in front of the palace;" for, indeed, it was water that they had to sell. And Zobeide mourned for the graceful Azor many days : and when, by night, she stood on his tomb, she said, " My heart is with thee for ever, O rny beloved ! " And Zobeide's son did not fear to run away with the slippers of the great Caliph Light of the World, Consoler of the Faithful, Gem of Gems, Centre of the flowing Uni- verse, Discoverer of thoughts, and Azure Sea of Wisdom. Milverton. Now has not Ellesmere contrived to darken that story by sarcasm ? He told it very well up to a certain point, I must admit. My dear Lady Ellesmere, do correct that husband of yours, for to the rest of us he is incorrigible. Lady Ellesmere. My dear Mr. Milverton, I took him only upon your recommendation, as you well know, and not from any merit of his own. Is there not something I often hear you gentlemen talk of applied to horses, the word warranty or warrantry ? You know I have something of the kind from you : it is your business to make him behave properly. This is an animal I should have had nothing to do with [here she pulled his ear] if you had not declared that he was safe and good. Sir Arthur.: In double harness? Did Mr. Milverton 's 23 warranty extend to that ? If it did, he was a very rash man. (Hereupon Sir Arthur walked away in his lounging manner towards the house.) Ellesmere. Now, Milverton, I have a very serious word to say to you. As to being beaten by this fellow's invention, it must riot be. You are the greatest - amongst us : or to speak euphemistically, you have the most vigorous ima- gination. If you cannot tell a story which will beat his that will require a pull at a more lengthened arc (I flatter myself that is a good expression) I shall despise you for ever. Recollect the fellow is a Tory. He will go back to his party and laugh at our beards if we cannot beat him in invention. I cannot do it myself. I read a novel ; I come to the end of the first volume. For the life of me I cannot see how Edwin is ever to marry Angelina. The difficulties are so tremendous. Edwin is already married : Angelina is about to marry the wrong man : the fathers have quarrelled. Edwin is a pauper, and is suspected of two murders. Angelina has sworn never to speak to or even look at Edwin; and really, without joking, I cannot imagine how Edwin and Angelina are to be happy at the end of the third volume. But to fellows like you, who are born story-tellers otherwise, highly imaginative men it is all as easy as possible. It goes, as the Americans say, " slick off." Edwin's wife, a poor creature (I am glad to get rid of her), dies. Edwin has only committed one murder a very innocent one, quite consistent with propriety while Ange- lina's intended has committed the other, a foul crime. Angelina's papa finds that Edwin's papa was the man who, when he (Angelina's papa) was going to London to seek his fortune, advanced him 2/. 12^. 6d. upon no other security but his saying, " Oh heavens ! my generous benefactor. How shall I ever repay you ? " Angelina's intended (a nasty man, that) is the individual who has kept Edwin, by a forged will, out of the posses- sion of Lorimer Court, an old house, with 7,ooo/. a year in land attached to it no mortgages, no annuities for younger children which, on discovery of the fraud, comes at once to Edwin without any trouble. At least 24 eamj. [CHAP. there is no trouble to speak of. An old woman is to die, the old woman revealing everything that requires to be revealed at the most opportune moment Angelina " clasps " (is not that the proper word ?) Edwin to her bosom, saying, however, that 7,ooo/. a year is a very dif- ferent thing from yoo/. Ditto, says father; and all goes on as right as a trivet but what a trivet is, I should be puzzled to say. Milverton. And this is the man who says he is not imaginative ! Ellesmere. Ah, but you do not know what an effort this was on my part, and how exhausted I feel after it. In all earnestness, and speaking seriously, if you believe I ever do speak seriously, I am quite bewildered in endeavouring to see my way through the difficulties that accumulate in the first and second volumes of a novel. I look upon you imaginative fellows with a kind of awe. I cannot think how you invent the things you do invent. I regard you with the same kind of dread that our friend Kingsley says savage men feel for savage women a dread, by the way, I must own I largely feel for civilized women if, indeed, there is such an entity as a civilized woman ; and I am lost in astonishment in observing how to you people fiction is, for all practical purposes, the same thing as reality. I must have my brief to go upon. Now if I had not had the main outlines of my caliph story, I could not have made anything of it. You don't want any outlines. You invent from the beginning. I admire you fellows ; entertaining at the same time a kind of disrespect and distrust for you. Milverton. Complete admiration is not at all in your way, my dear Ellesmere. If I were to find you indulging in it, I should be sure that a serious illness was coming upon you. But, to revert to our main point.: I will have a story ready by the next time we meet that is, if Alick here will help me ; one that I have thought over for years : a true one : at least one which I know has happened in the world's history. But, if I agree to narrate such a story, will you promise not to interrupt ? Such interruptions as you make are, no doubt, very droll ; but, I assure you, they do em- barrass a narrator. Sir Arthur bore your interruptions nobly. You know he is accustomed to be listened to with reverence. Great authors are not the mere temporary rubbish that eminent lawyers are, and must be treated dif- ferently. Ellesmere. Well, I have heard insulting things in the course of my life, but never anything to equal your last remark. Milverton (who could hardly refrain from laughing). You see, my dear Ellesmere, one must make you know your place, while Sir Arthur is here. Ellesmere. And there is my wife following him up and down the lawn, like an obedient poodle-dog, listening, no doubt, to his sentimental nonsense, as if it were heaven- descended wisdom, thinking all the time what a rough pippin her Sir John is. If I once get away from here, no more of the society of authors for me, nothing but that of Masters in Chancery, solid merchants, and Under-Secre- taries of State. Sir, I abjure all vagabonds. But, Milverton, do pound Sir Arthur with a grand story, so full of daring fiction, that his inventions, in comparison with yours, shall seem to be crystal truths. The honour of our side of the House is at stake. Take Sandy [Sir John Ellesmere would always call me Sandy] into your confidence. As half a Scotchman, he has second-sight at his command. Good-bye : I am going to fish. Now do look at that deluded person, Lady Elles- mere ! You see, from that respectful stooping of the shoulders, though they have their backs turned to us, how she is drinking in discourse about the "true" and the " beautiful," and the " absolute," and the " uncouth," with a big U, which means her respected husband. I'll pitch into that fellow after dinner. [Exit Sir J. Ellesmere. Milverton. Come to my study, Alick ; we will see if we cannot tell them something which will be new to them, and astonish their weak minds. I have always been very suspicious about this 26 (tuaunajr. [CHAP fishing of Sir John Ellesmere's. I am sure he is up to some mischief or other. 1 1 I have since found out all about Sir John Ellesmere's fishing, by consulting my little friend, Jemmy Veck, who haunts the river that Sir John pretends to fish. " Well, Jemmy," I said, "and so a great London gentleman comes here and catches a good many fish ; more than you can catch." Jemmy grinned, and said : "A' never caught a fish as I seed ; a' gets his line fuzzed up in the bushes many a time. Lor ! a' can't fish at all ! A' drags his fly far under the water. A' went and caught two or three little ones for un t'other day, but a' didn't seem to want 'em at all. ' Well,' he said to I, 'why couldn't ee have thrown 'em into the water again, poor things ! ' The big trout under the wooden bridge knows un by this time, and seems quite pleased to see un ; and they look at one another for ten minutes together without moving. Oh ! the trout is very fond of company, when it knows there is no harm ; and I don't believe that gentleman ever caught a fish in his life." So it is evident that Sir John makes his fishing a mere pretext for getting a few hours to himself, during which time I suppose he thinks over his speeches. But the fuss he made about those little trout that Jemmy caught for him, was something to have seen. He insisted upon their being placed upon a separate dish by themselves, and taking upon himself the helping, giving each of us a little bit as if it was some sacred food : declaring there was never anything so good brought to table. He also informed us that to catch a big trout was no difficulty whatever; but that the real piscatorial skill was shown in catching small ones, a? he had done for us. I declare he so overpowered us with talk that we thought we were eating something wonderful. m.] E0a!imtb. 27 CHAPTER III. IN two days after the last conversation we met in the summer-house. There was no addition to our party but Mrs. Mil- verton, Before Mr. Milverton commenced his story, there was a short conversation as follows : Milverton. Before I begin, Ellesmere, I must insist, as I told you before, upon having no interruptions from you. I have thought over this story for many years of my life. It is, as I told you, a real story, and a very serious one; and I have not the patience and good temper of Sir Arthui, to bear your interruptions. Mrs. Milverton. Leonard, dear, I am sure I wish to hear your story without any interruptions ; but don't ask what is impossible. Lady Ellesmere and I pressed Sir John, when we were last in London, to come and hear with us that great preacher, the Rev. Mr. . I will never again ask Sir John to come to any sermon, for he behaved abominably: "What does this prove?" "This is the third time he has made that statement, and nothing has come of it." " Here, again, he is arguing in a circle." And so he went on, worrying us in whispers with all manner of objections to the sermon : and even his wife could not keep him at all quiet. Ellesmere. I hope you see, Milverton, that your wife (wives can say most uncomplimentary things) infers that your story will be very like a sermon. But now, let us make a bargain : let us enter into a contract. You are to prose on for one hour and a half, and during that one hour and a half I am only to interrupt twice, each time by a single sentence which is not to exceed fifteen words. Milverton. I close at once with your proposition. 28 |jutalm&. [CHAP. The events of the story I shall have to tell will have occurred at a period of the world's history when this very spot on which we sit was far down in the ocean, from whence it has been raised by gradual upheavings. Ellesmere. My goodness, what an opportunity that will give this man for inventing things which cannot be contra- dicted ; and it will be no good showing that he can know no more of those times than we do, for, of course, the imaginative man the egregious inventor (I suppose I must not say a short, sharp, true word) declares that he knows all things by the force of his predominant imagination. I, poor man, know, for certain, nothing that has not happened in my own time, and before my own eyes. Sir Arthur. I would not advise you always to trust your own eyes. Cranmer. But let us not delay ; let us have the story at once, Mr. Milverton ; only do not let it be placed in impos- sible latitudes and longitudes, for to me, a plain practical man as I am, that a story should have some semblance of reality is a great comfort. Milverton. Mine is all real, and must have happened : in fact, I know it did happen. Steg jof CHAPTER I. THE LAKE CITY. "How lovely is water! on a flower, bedewing the grass, rushing down as a mountain torrent, rolling on as a mighty river, expanding itself into a vast lake, like this, kissed into ripples by the shimmering of moonlight." Such were the words of a young man who stood out upon a balcony connected with a low, long range in.] csmar. 29 of buildings, stranger in aspect than any which have met the eyes of the inhabitants of this earth for many ages. He was one of the dwellers in a lake city in the south of Europe, similar to such as have been discovered in recent years at the bottom of the lakes in Switzerland. The young man resumed his train of thought. " Surely," he muttered, " water is the woman of the inanimate creation : versatile, fluent, lovely, un- tameable, and dangerous." The youth who spoke these words was not stal- wart, like most of the men of his nation, and he was evidently unused to hard labour of any kind. The cause of this was manifest when, rousing himself at last from his reverie, he paced up and down the long wooden balcony. It was then perceptible that he halted slightly in his walk ; and, indeed, he had been lame from his birth. The description in words of such a wondrous thing as any human countenance cannot be otherwise than very poor and inadequate. But still it is better than nothing ; and so I will here endeavour to portray the outward appearance of this youth. His was a very singular face, from the strange admixture of daring and softness which pervaded it. He had beautiful melancholy eyes of a deep blue colour, which seemed to promise the greatest tenderness of character ; but these were surmounted by dark eyebrows which nearly met. In the centre of his forehead, even now, while he was a young man, there was a deep vertical dent, formed probably by the contraction of the brows by thought. In each part of this remarkable face there was contradiction. The nose was slightly aquiline, and most delicately formed from the upper part to the nostril, which, however, was wide, and even somewhat coarse. The lips again were well formed, except that the lower 30 eamcir. [CHAP. one was very large, and what is called sensual. He had a sv/eet subtle smile, and there were dimples beautiful as those in any woman's face. Though a very crafty man, he could not quite command the lower part of his countenance ; and, to a refined observer, it was sometimes but too visible what Realmah was really thinking about. The chin was decided ; and the whole contour of the lower part of the face was square and massive, like that of the First Napoleon. He was rather under than above the middle size, and he stooped slightly, generally looking down on the ground, as one immersed in thought. His hands were very small and delicate, and he made great use of them when speaking. His gestures altogether were like those of an Andalusian, having such a combination of gravity, dignity, and vivacity as, perhaps, in modern times, is only to be seen in that part of Spain. Such is the portraiture, as near as I can give it, of one who was destined to play a part greater than that of any other man in the south of Europe at that period of the world's history. I have omitted to mention a very characteristic thing, his hair, which was extremely fine and delicate, and gave signs that he would be prematurely bald. Like Caesar, he endeavoured to conceal this. It may be noticed that the most refined persons are wont to have this kind of hair. It was of a light brown colour and formed a strange contrast to the dark and some- what fierce eyebrows. Of his dress it may be mentioned that it was rich and careless, even slovenly; and that he little heeded the prevailing fashions of his country. Altogether he was one of those men, whom, if you met accidentally, you would involuntarily turn to look upon again ; which attention on your part he would have construed ITT.J 'aeaimag, 31 into an observation of his lameness, and would ac- cordingly have been somewhat disconcerted. Realmah-Koonah (for that was his name) had been . unable to join heartily in the sports of boys, or the labours of men ; but, in compensation for this en- forced inactivity, his intellect had been brightened and his thoughtfulness developed by his painful isola- tion. Of all the men in that strange city Realmah was the wisest; and at that moment, excepting the guards at the drawbridges, he was the only watcher who was looking out upon the wide expanse of waters, and upon the reflection in them of the un- clouded sky. "I mistrust," he said to himself, "that smooth- spoken ambassador; but how shall I dare to make known my suspicions to the assembly of the grey- haired warriors ; I who am but a youth, and who have no spoils to show, wrested from the enemy, or from wild beasts ; I who cannot even win the love of a woman, and upon whose suit the graceful Talora looks with gentle but unmistakeable contempt ? " CHAPTER II. THE RELIGION AND GOVERNMENT OF THE SHEVIRI. THE government of the Sheviri, to which nation Realmah belonged, was an exceedingly curious one. It rested with four chiefs, who were named from the four points of the compass : the chief of the East, the chief of the West, the chief of the North, and the chief of the South. In any ceremonial the chief of the East had the first place. Each chief ruled over that quarter of the city which corresponded geographically with his title. The name of the city was Abibah. There were councils consisting of men of high lank 32 anmlJ. [CHAP. attached to each of the four chiefs : there was also a council of four hundred which was partly nominated by the chiefs, and partly chosen by election from among the people. This council met only on very great occasions. The criminal laws were very severe, as is generally the case in nations of imperfect civilization ; and the punishment of death was almost always inflicted by strangulation. There was one very singular custom. If a man had been injured by another in the way of slander, or petty theft, or calumny, and this was proved before one of the judges, who were always members of the council of one of the four chiefs, it was allowed to the injured man, or to one of his immediate family, to build a little hut close to the dwelling-place of the injurer, where he abode day and night, watched his enemy's incomings and outgoings, and on seeing him per- petually repeated the sentence of the judge. For instance, if a man of the name of Adolmah had spoken falsely, and slandered his neighbour, Barru ; the injured man, Barru, having built his hut close to the dwelling-place of Adolmah, when he saw Adolmah come in, or go out, would utter the words, " Adolmah is a liar and a slanderer: so says the righteous judge, my lord Corah, of the council of the East." It was found by experience that no man could long endure this persecution ; and Adolmah was sure to make reparation to Barru to get rid of his hateful presence, which was like an embodied conscience sitting for ever at his gate. The religion of the Sheviri was simple. They believed in a Supreme Being unapproachable by gifts or offerings, and whose name even was to be rarely mentioned ; but there were other gods, some malign and some benignant, to whom sacrifices were to be made on special occasions, in.] gealmab. 33 There were five lesser gods and goddesses. First, Rotondarah, the god of thunder and of storms, Secondly, Paravi, the goddess of fertility, answering to the Ceres of the ancients. Then Kalatavee, a very noxious divinity, who was the promoter of all accidents, disasters, and ill- nesses. Death, however, was not in his power : he could only maim, and infect, and blight. Many were the prayers and oblations made to him by anxious mothers. Then Koomrah-Kamah (literally the heaper together of shells), the god of riches. The men of Abibah prayed to him very frequently, and very sincerely men who paid very little attention even to Kalatavee : for what are accidents .and diseases when put in com- parison with the loss or gain of wealth; and who would not be rich and diseased rather than poor, healthy, and despised ? At least thus thought the Sheviri; but then they were, as some think, poor ignorant barbarians, living at an age of the world when the principles of wisdom had not been fully worked out by mankind. Then Blastessa-Kooli, the goddess who ruled the affections, answering somewhat to Venus, only being more general in her domination, for she influenced all forms and phases of love. She was not a divinity to whom much attention was paid by the Sheviri, for they were not wise enough, as it appears to me, to see that upon her influence the greatest part of domestic felicity depends. Now we know that even without such a comparatively small adjunct as politeness love will often altogether fly away. In those rude times, however, the altar of Blastessa-Kooli has been known to be without a single garland for two days. In addition to the gods and goddesses whom the D 34 |calntafj. [CHAP. Sheviri worshiped, there were nymphs who played a most important part in the affairs of the Sheviri. Each man supposed himself to be protected by a nymph, who watched over him from birth to death, and to whom every thought of his mind, every aspira- tion of his heart, and every one of his actions, was a matter of the deepest interest. It was a rule of high politeness that when any man in the city of Abibah seemed to be absorbed in thought he was not to be interrupted in any way ; for, said the bystanders to themselves, "He is communing with his nymph, and she is giving him heavenly advice ; therefore be silent." Of the greater gods, some were benignant, and some malevolent ; but the nymphs were altogether friendly to mankind. Each man of the Sheviri was a Numa- having a superior being who was more devoted tc him than Egeria was to the Roman monarch. One great merit of these nymphs was, that they required no altars and no sacrifices ; and nothing would have shocked a citizen of Abibah more than to suggest that he could win his nymph by gifts and promises. For was she not his, a Being bound up with his being, and, indeed, more devoted to his welfare than his own erring and unwise self ? This strange notion greatly favoured politeness and respect in the social intercourse of the Sheviri. The stupidest man in the community might, especially in matters that concerned himself, be speaking and acting with a wisdom not his own, and therefore demand the most implicit respect and attention from the greatest and the wisest personages. This belief threw around each man the halo of a present divinity. The poor women were not so favoured ; and, whether in con- sideration of their more divine faculties, of their sharper wit, or of their comparative insignificance in human affairs, were left to the unassisted guidance of m.] amaj, 35 whatever measure of intellect they were supposed by nature to possess. This is, however, no new thing in religion. Men, having the larger power of imagina- tion, and therefore being the chief inventors of false religions, are not likely to indulge in any religious fancies, which do not assure to them their masculine predominance. The name of the whole body of nymphs was Akairah-Douli (the soothers of thought) : the name for each attendant nymph was Amala. What seems to have been rather a weak point about these gracious beings is, that they were always more ready to be present and to assist their votaries in cloudy than in sunny weather ; and, indeed, the Shevirian word for cloud (amalasti) is but a variation of the word " amala " or nymph. But men's imagi- nations generally have some thoroughly earthly touch about them. However, such as they were in men's minds, these nymphs played a great part both as regards individuals, and as regards the state, in the city of Abibah, and throughout the adjacent country subject to the Sheviri. The laws of marriage which prevailed amongst the Sheviri were very peculiar. For instance, as regards the marriage of the princely families, their young men were compelled to take three wives, lest there should be default of issue in those families. One of these wives was to be taken from among the family. She was chosen by the head of the family, and was called the Varnah-Varee, which means the cousin-wife ; the second was taken from the great body of the com- mon people, and was called the Ainah-Varee, which means the alphabet-wife. I do not exactly under- stand how this choice was regulated ; but I believe that it depended upon the number drawn out of a vase by the fortunate maiden, corresponding with the number of letters in the man's name, or being some D 2 [CHAP. multiple by four of that number. 1 The third wife was chosen by the young man himself, and was called Marah-Varee, which means the love-wife. Antiquaries have divided the ages during which these towns on the waters flourished, into three periods : the stone age, the bronze age, and the iron age. Mundane affairs, however, have not always hap pened as the antiquaries have pictured them. In Abibah, for example, had it been submerged that night, there would have been found in after ages many bronze ornaments and implements ; but in reality the nation had not got beyond the stone period. The truth is, that in the town of Abibah the stone period had reached its highest development. At the same time the bronze-period was also very far advanced in some parts of the world, for the bronze ornaments and implements in Abibah were of the highest quality and beauty. These bronze articles had been gained in commerce with distant tribes ; and it was in consequence of the known superiority of these distant tribes, that the chiefs of Abibah were entertaining a proposition brought to them from a neighbouring tribe, by the ambassador whom Realmah so much mistrusted. The iron period, too, had commenced, and was flourishing in other regions, as will be seen in the course of this narrative. It may be mentioned that flints were not the only stones out of which the im- plements used by the Sheviri were made, for some of their best workmanship was executed in nephrite, or jade, or even in obsidian. There must have been commerce even in that remote age, for some of the inhabitants of Abibah possessed ornaments made of Baltic amber. 1 For example, Realmah consisting of seven letters, whoever drew the f^-st number 7 or 28 was to be the Ainah to Realmah. in.] IJUalmajjr, 37 The pottery at Abibah showed that the potter's wheel was in constant use among them ; and they had spindle-whorls of earthenware, which proves that the art of weaving had made some progress amongst them. Their buildings were of the kind which has been called Pfahlbauten, or pile-buildings, in which the groundwork for the city consisted of platforms sup- ported on innumerable piles, as distinguished from those in which the support consisted not of piles only, but of masses of mud and stones with layers of horizontal stakes, resembling the Irish " crannoges." The distance of the bottom of the lake from the platform of the city was about fifteen feet. It is a remarkable fact that, amongst such a community, boat-building was an art very little developed. Pro- bably all their skill as artisans was devoted to the building of their houses. They found fish in abund- ance in the shallows of the lake : there was, there- fore, not much inducement for them to put out upon its deep waters. One general remark I may here make, which will require to be very deeply considered by the hearers of this history : it is, that we must be very careful not to confuse under one general head all stages of civilization that were different from our own. The common use of the word " savages " has misled modern men very much as regards the estimation in which they should hold their ancestors. The word " savage " cannot be applied with justice to a people who knew the arts of baking, of carpentering, of pottery, of weaving, and in some respects of go- vernment ; who had indeed established polities which lasted in some way or other for long generations. It is almost unknown, but it is not less a fact, that great judges of literature (the scornful Voltaire being one amongst them) have pronounced that the third great epic poem of the world was written by a man 38 Jtcalmafr. [CHAP. who dwelt amongst what is called a savage people, and who has depicted in vivid colours their valour in war, the great ideas they had of religion, and the extraordinary splendour of their eloquence, of which he has preserved the record. 1 The language of these so-called savages was often in the highest degree refined. And so it was among the people I am describing. They had two words for the verb "to be :" one meaning constant being, the other a tempo- rary state of being. For instance, if one of them said, stea varug, " I am ill," it meant, " I am ill of a tem- porary ailment;" if, however, he said kamaya varug, it meant, " I am ill of a permanent disease." They had also two sets of words for sister and brother, so that if, without seeing the person or recognising the voice, you heard the words, " She is my sister," you knew if it was a man that was speaking, because a man's sister was represented by a different word from that of a woman's sister. But perhaps the greatest refinement of all that was known in the languages that have perished of so-called savages, was that they had a way of expressing the result of conjoint but not unanimous opinion. For example, if a chieftain came forth to the people, and said, " It is our opinion that the war should be prosecuted with vigour," the words used might convey, without any explanation, that it was the conclusion come to by a majority of the council, and not the unanimous opinion of its members. Such, as above described, were some of the most salient points connected with the religion, the laws, the manners, the customs, and the language of the Sheviri. Descriptions of this kind do but faintly reproduce the life of a people. Perhaps there is no greater effort than to reproduce a faithful and vivid picture of past men, of their ways of life, and their 1 The Araucana. in.] tamar, 39 habitations. How hard it is even to imagine what the lives of our immediate forefathers were like ! But the difficulty is enhanced tenfold when the mode of life to be reproduced before us is that of a people who have left no records, and whose ways are only dimly to be described by antiquarians searching, in the mud brought up from the bottom of lakes, for any relics that may enable them to form some conjecture about these sunken cities and forgotten generations of mankind. [During Mr. Milverton's narrative it was curious to watch the expression on Sir John Ellesmere's countenance. It was profoundly attentive ; but. at the same time, he had a bewildered look, and he did not make a single observa- tion.] Sir Arthur. I think the story promises to be most interesting. There is a very happy choice of subject, which I wonder has not been seized upon by some one else. You may know how interesting it was, for Sir John Ellesmere did not interrupt once : did not even take any advantage of the bargain he had made. The story, therefore, must be a very good one. Ellesmere. I deny the inference. I was dazed, if you like. I felt out of my element. I know nothing of these fishy, half-under-water people. Yes, the choice of subject is very skilful that is, on the narrator's behalf. If you say anything about the manners and customs of these people, Milverton would answer you with all his superior knowledge of wretched details. If you were to comment about the main current of the story, he knows for certain all about it : his nymph has told him. How, my dear fellow, do you invent all this ? Milverton. I do not invent, as you call it : I see how the things happened. I can hardly describe to you how dis- tinctly the whole story arises before my mind : I do not invent ; I merely describe. Ellesmere. Oh yes, he evolves out of the depths of his self-consciousness, as the Germans would say, all he tells 40 |UaImafr, [CHAP. us. I do not see that it is made out to be more true on that account. Lady Eilesmere. I don't quite like the part about the three wives. Eilesmere. That is the only part I am quite sure I do like. With this odd number one might always get a majority of one's wives on one's side. 3, 5, 7, 9, n, are the numbers I shall aim at in another planet ; and I mean always to have a majority on my side. Mauleverer. I daresay it is all true. It is evident that men were as wretched then as they are now the same low intrigues, jealousies, hatreds, and malice. So far the story seems to me perfectly consistent. Eilesmere. Yes : so far indeed I am with you. Modern inventions have done but little, as I always maintain. Boring has become a fine art ; and, somehow or other, in our highly civilized communities, it is so contrived that one never has a moment's peace. You teach the people to write ! What is the consequence ? Innumerable letters of the most detestable description : " Sir, I have not the pleasure of knowing you, but from your general benevolence of character " Cranmer. Is that how the letters begin to you, Sir John? Eilesmere. Yes, Mr. Cranmer. " From your general benevolence of character, I know you will not consider it intrusive if I venture to lay the following circumstances before you, and to ask for your assistance and advice." Then comes some difficulty which it would take you an hour or two to write justly about, and the man, though he has said he is intrusive, does not think that he is so. I wish, sir, any one of these people would only ask himself the grave question, " Am I the only intrusive person in the world ? Is it likely that my letter is the only one of the same character that will reach Sir John Eilesmere to- morrow ? " If he did give a good answer to that question, he might perhaps omit to write his letter, or put it in the fire if he had written it ; and Sir John Eilesmere would be a happier man. Will any one of you be good enough to explain to me in.] how rapid locomotion has increased the felicity of the world ? For I cannot see it. You observe that beetle there. He is making for the corner of this summer-house, and will arrive here some time in the course of the afternoon. When he does arrive, he will only be an ungainly, top-heavy creature, not of the first order of intelligence, and much given, as naturalists tell me, to strong drinks. Now this beetle has wings ; and he might take it into his stupid head to fly from the gravel-walk to the corner of the summer-house, and might do so in two seconds ; but when he did arrive, I suppose he would still be the same kind of creature ungainly, top-heavy, and too much given to strong drinks prone, therefore, to lie upon his back in a very helpless and foolish manner. I leave you, gentlemen and ladies, to make the application for yourselves. Milverton. How can you talk in that perverse way, Ellesmere ? Do you mean to maintain that our modern inventions have not, upon the whole, been beneficial to mankind ? Do you mean to say that having a city lighted with gas is not a great advantage ? Do you mean to main- tain that painless operations are not a huge solace to mankind ? Do you mean to say that we have not improved in judicial matters that, for instance, having got rid of torture, as a test of truth, is not an immense advance in the history of mankind ? Do you mean to argue that there is not much greater liberty in religious matters than there ever was ? Ellesmere. These things you call progress are not all loss, certainly. However, you cannot say that government has so much improved. Cranmer. I deny that. Milverton. I admit that despotic governments are just as bad as ever. Thousands and tens of thousands of victims are still sacrificed to some dynastic idea. Sir Arthur. In constitutional governments there is hardly such a thing as government at all. Nothing is done without such endless discussion and what is done generally comes too late. Ellesmere. There speaks out the old Tory. 42 |UufimiIj. [CHAP. Milverton. No, no : we are not so bad as that, Sir Arthur. Of course there is great difficulty in reconciling perfect personal freedom with governmental action. But recollect that what is gained in constitutional government, after all this talk, that you so much disapprove of, is gained by the people for themselves for ever, and does not depend upon one man, or one set of men, but becomes a permanent improvement for mankind. Mauleverer (sarcastically). Yes : the poor are so well housed, so well fed, so carefully instructed, they are so much better off than these fishy people, as Ellesmere calls them, that one must rejoice in the glorious triumphs of civilization. Milverton. I wish any one of your grumblers could go back for a week to the state of things which existed in England in the fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, and seven- teenth centuries. I think you would soon summon modern civilization back again, and admit that we had made great progress, even in the well-being of the lowest classes. Sir Arthur. I am not so sure of that. Milverton. I am sure. I have a firm belief that the general improvement might be measured, by the relation that the cholera of the present day bears to the plague, or the black-death, or the sweating sickness of former days. Ellesmere. Now, how can he know this ? It is all simple assertion. Mrs. Milverton. And so, Sir John, is your statement. Ellesmere. Yes : of course your husband is always perfectly right. You would be one of the three wives, I see, Mrs. Milverton, and would always vote for your husband. Your knowledge of the common people (let us see, what did he say? in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries) is so complete, Mrs. Milverton, that it enables you to give a final judgment in the matter. Lady Ellesmere. Don't be so rude, Sir John. We women know, by intuition, a great many things which you men only arrive at by study. Ellesmere. It is well that you have some way of getting at knowledge different from that of study, for I do not see, in.] IJUaimsff, 43 after you are once married, you do much of that, any one of you. Milverton. To go back to the question of government, that is a question which has always had profound interest for me. That saying of the Duke of Wellington, "How is the king's government to be carried on ? " is perpetually in my mind. Now, if you want to know what are the difficulties of government, I will, to the best of my ability, inform you ; and I do really believe I have some experience in this matter : so, too, has Sir Arthur : and I will abide by his corrections in what I am saying. I think, to put the matter briefly and frankly, that there is not sufficient intellect brought to bear upon the affairs of government. From my earliest years I was very much struck with that admirable work of Henry Taylor's, the " Statesman ; " and I have always found that practical con- versancy to use one of his favourite words with govern- ment has led me to think more and more highly of his views. The truth is, the public offices in this kingdom are under- manned as regards " Indoors Statesmen," as he calls them. Reform has gone too far in the way of retrenchment. Ellesmere. Oh i oh! Milverton. Yes, it has ; in the way of retrenchment, as regards providing intelligent officers for the public service. Ministers are worked to death by their double functions parliamentary and official. Law officers, and all the other lawyers connected with Government, are also terribly overworked. The permanent officials of the highest class, upon whom Government for the most part depend, are likewise greatly overworked by the mere routine of their offices; which work, I must confess, has not been diminished by the in- creased power of reading and writing, to which Ellesmere (I thought he was a Liberal) has so great an objection. Ellesmere. An elaborate sneer at me ! If I had but admired the story of Realmah, the .sagacity of Sir John Ellesmere would have been much applauded by the story- teller. 44 UalmaI. [CHAP. Milverton. I am not judging by my prejudices as an author ; and I will not be diverted from the main subject. I have no doubt millions a year might be saved to this country by an increase of the intellectual power of the official staff. The least instance of injudicious management on the part of the War Office or the Admiralty a tax unwisely retained, or unskilfully imposed an error as re- gards the currency will produce more outlay than would be expended in twenty years by such an improvement of the intellectual force of the public offices as I contemplate. If I were despotic if I enjoyed a mental despotism the first thing I would persuade the people to do, would be to increase the intellectual power of Government. I have no fear of bureaucracy. We are too free to be led by any set of official men, however clever. Then, again, look how the House of Commons is over- worked. Consider the vast amount of private business thrown upon it, and how some of the best members are necessarily absorbed in the management of that business. Consider what an imperfect thing our modern legislation is : so much so, that an Act of Parliament is often, at first, utterly unworkable. I despair, however, of bringing men round to my opinion upon these matters, for I know that it requires to have been behind the scenes for many years before a man would thoroughly appreciate the views which I venture to put forward. FMesmere. I suppose this fishy government was perfect, for Milverton has had it all his own way there. Milverton. No ; it was not perfect. No doubt it was the best thing they could invent for the time ; but I think you will find that Realmah, if he ever gets to power, will make a great improvement in the government of the Lake City. Ellesmere. What I do admire in authors, and what gives one so much respect for them, is that their heroes always partake so much of their own character. One knows, from the beginning, that Realmah will do exactly what Milverton would have done ; which gives one so much confidence as to Milverton's sublime insight into the doings of these past times. HI.] amaf. 45 Mrs. Milverton. Why should people be so very different now to what they were then ? Is there not a family likeness amongst all great statesmen ? Ellesmere. Yes, Mrs. Milverton, they are all men pene- trated by some idea, which they think a great one, and that the course of nations ought to be shaped according to that idea. Count Bismarck is no doubt a great statesman in your eyes Mrs. Milverton. No man is a great statesman in my eyes, Sir John, who needlessly promotes war. Sir Arthur. I am by no means sure, Mrs. Milverton, that your censure will apply to the great Count. Ellesmere. You will see, Mrs. Milverton, what Realm ah will do. You may depend upon it that all his fine sayings and doings will only lead to war. Is he not an interfering young fellow, who I foresee will endeavour to impress upon the great council his own juvenile ideas probably most preposterous? I wish I had been a member of that council: I would have made that young man know his proper place. Sir Arthur, It is a great comfort to think that the con- duct of this story does not depend upon Sir John Ellesmere. I can only say that I look forward to the coming chapter with the greatest possible interest ; and I do hope, Mil- verton, that you are ready, and that we shall have another reading to-morrow. Milverton. You shall. I do not despair yet of making Ellesmere a firm believer in Realmah's valour and sagacity, which I know to have been unrivalled at that period of the world's history. Mauleverer. To-morrow, then, we meet in the summer- house at the same hour. The company then separated ; but not before Ellesmere had said to Milverton, " You inventive scoundrel ; I believe your nymph to be an utter impostor. However, to- morrow I am not going to be so silent as I was to-day. I believe it was understood that my liberty of interruption was accumulative : to-morrow, therefore, I have a right to interrupt you four times ; each time with a sentence of about fifteen words. A great deal of truth may be conveyed in fifteen words." [Exit. 4 6 ^calmalj. [CHAP. CHAPTER IV. DR. JOHNSON used to say, that a concern for public affairs never took away any man's appetite for dinner. He was certainly wrong, for poor Mr. Milverton has been in the most depressed state lately ; and I think his dinners have been seriously affected by the im- pending war in Europe. When next we met, it happened to be a wet day ; and we agreed that we would have our reading in the library. All about the library were strewed maps of the probable seat of war, showing what had been Mr. Milverton's recent objects of study. Just after we had met, Mr. Milverton rushed into the house, and begged us all to come into the garden to see some- thing. We all came at once. He seldom notices natural phenomena: or, if he does notice them, he does not talk about them, which made us come more readily. He brought us in a minute or two to a spot where there was a pitched battle going on between an army of red and an army of black ants. What sur- prised me was this : I had always understood from books on natural history, that the red ants were much stronger than the black ants, but in this case the little black fellows fought admirably ; and, while we remained, I could not foresee on which side the vic- tory would be. We re-entered the house, and went into the library, where the ladies joined us. Ellesmere. There is one advantage of a wet day namely, that we do not have our meetings in that stupid summer-house. There one sits up, very uncomfortably, on $calmalr. 47 a hard board, leaning against some out-jutting piece of rustic abomination, which is meant to be very picturesque, and which certainly does possess that element of the picturesque which consists in ruin and decay. The whole thing partakes of the nature of a pic-nic ; and pic-nics are my abhorrence. A meal is too serious a thing to be treated in that light manner. Lady Ellesmere. What a hard, sensual man you are ! Ellesmere. Oh yes ! women like these foolish things, it gives them an opportunity for fuss and bustle ; and, after all, they are sure to forget the salt, or the vinegar, or some- thing or other which is an essential element to human happiness during dinner-time. Mauleverer. I am quite of Sir John's opinion. No sensible man, after he has attained the age of twenty-two if he is not in love cares about pic-nics. Ellesmere. You look very miserable, Milverton. I know what is worrying you. What is the good of fretting about these turbulent and foolish people ? If they will go to war, they must ; and I suppose it is necessary, for some good end or other, that they should do so. Milverton. I cannot get over it. War horrifies me. On all sides, loss, destruction, waste, turmoil, cruelty, sickness, horses slain, olive-trees cut down, bridges blown up, roads obliterated. Ellesmere. Don't go on. We know all that. It needs no ghost to tell us that. Milverton. Yes : but there is something you do not know. There is not only the active mischief of war, but all the preparation for war, which is perhaps the greater evil, in the long run, of the two. Did it ever enter into your mind to consider what an unproductive creature a soldier is, and what an immense difference it makes to the welfare of the human race, whether you have all these stalwart men employed in producing, or in merely consuming and de- stroying ? Ellesmere. Yes : now you talk like a sound political economist and sensible man. Milverton. Then, you know, it does thoroughly dis- hearten one to find that Christianity during all these years, 4 8 IJLealmajf. [CHAP, has been able to do so little towards the prevention of war. Nobody seems to see the beauty of renunciation. Nobody seems to see the merit of being content to be second or third instead of first in the great game of life. But I am unjust : private persons do sometimes see this beauty and this merit. I do believe that the first impulses of jealousy, of revenge, and of injustice, are constantly restrained by Christianity in the breasts of private individuals ; but in nations, never. Honour ! glory ! rights ! claims ! balance of power ! these are the words which still dominate nations. Statesmen are like lawyers, who often give their clients advice which is harsh and self-seeking, telling them never to give up their rights and their claims advice which, if the case were their own, they would not give themselves being more generous, as they think it right to be, for themselves, than for their clients. Ellesmere. Yes : we lawyers are very good people : it is our clients who make us wicked, whenever we are wicked ; which is very rarely. Mauleverer. Man is meant to be miserable, and he always will be. Ellesmere. I do not see that. Paley's argument is better than yours ; but people who are fond of fishing are always wiser than other men. As Paley justly says, " Teeth were made to eat with, and not to ache." If we injudiciously contrive to make our teeth ache, it is our own fault ; and the same thing applies to all our conduct. I have just as good a right to say that men were meant to be happy, as that men were meant to be miserable, Mr. Mauleverer. But do not let us interrupt Milverton : he will not be endurable until he has had his full moan over the present state of European affairs ; which, however, are enough to make anybody moan. Milverton. There is one point connected with this matter that I often blame myself for not having spoken about. It is the use that we Britishers make of our capital. How we send it out to the most distant regions, often to be used against ourselves, and indeed against the dearest and best interests of mankind. I think that upon this subject to speak without arrogance I am really an authority. I am iv.] the last surviving commissioner of foreign claims, that means, of the claims of British subjects against foreign nations for injuries done in the wars that were closed by Waterloo. It may appear strange to you that I should ever have held such an office, for I am not yet, I trust, a very aged individual ; but there were several commissions before I was appointed, and the commissioners died out, leaving us, the last set, to wind up the affairs. I had, of course, to look into all the old papers ; and I found that there was no form of confiscation which had not been adopted with regard to British property. For instance, a foreign merchant owed a British merchant money : in his books it was a book-debt. The Government of the country said, " Pay us that debt which, according to your books, you owe the Englishman, and we will give you a receipt, so that you cannot be molested for the debt in any of our courts." Well, then I will pursue the subject further. Is it not lamentable that, with the fields of England not half tilled, with the poor people of England not half housed, with every branch of industry that England possesses requiring capital, we should ever send our money out to be invested in Congo Fives or Timbuctoo Seven per Cents., or whatever other tempting but foolish investment is offered to us by some distant country or colony ? I believe I should have fulfilled my part in the world, if I had only persuaded my fellow- countrymen never to invest in anything which they cannot go and see, and respecting which their own laws do not give them a remedy, if any wrong is done them. I know it is of no use attempting by any legislative measures to pre- vent the efflux of capital. It is only to be done by persua- sion } but, really, if men would only look to their own interests, they would be very shy of foreign investments. Now, I would ask the question, has any man ever invested, twenty or thirty years ago, in land on British soil, and has not that investment increased at least forty per cent, in value ? However, I have said my say upon this subject, and you may believe me, or not ; but 1 am quite sure that the increased interest never balances the increased danger which is to be found in making foreign investments. Sir Arthur. To return to the main question of war : you E 50 eamaf. [CHAP. cannot say, Milverton, that we have not gained a great deal of wisdom upon this point that we are not wiser than other nations as regards it for we have come to the con- clusion that extension of territory is nearly always bought at too high a price. Ellesmere This has arisen from our insular position. You must not give us any great credit for being wiser than any other nation. Milverton. There you are unjust. I would not exactly say that we are wiser than other nations ; but I do honestly think that we are more conscientious. There is no doubt that we are a very warlike nation, and that the great bulk of every people delight in war : but we have come to the con- clusion that it is a very dangerous thing for our future welfare I mean not temporal, but eternal welfare to 'in- dulge in any war that is not a war of defence or a war of protection to some oppressed people. I think that the religious movement which commenced in the latter part of the last century and the beginning of this of which Wilber- ibrce may be chosen as a representative had a great effect upon the minds of the British people. It cancelled slavery ; it improved our criminal code ; it made all men, even statesmen, obliged to refer their conduct to the highest religious principles ; and, you may depend upon it, it has proved a great check upon our naturally warlike instincts. This is what I think foreign nations do not understand, when they contemplate our sedulous observance of neutrality. They think it is shopkeeping which restrains us, whereas it is a fear of violating the highest moral and religious princi- ples. I may be mistaken; but I sincerely believe what I say. Only let some foreign nation attack us, and see what Berserkers we should become. I do not believe that the fighting element has gone out of us, but only that we are terribly afraid of fighting, except upon some thoroughly righteous cause some cause which we believe would be approved of in heaven, as well as upon earth. Sir Arthur. I am entirely in accordance with Mr. Mil- verton. Mauleverer. I am not. Did you ever know the bulk of any nation ruled by any great, or humane, or religious principle ? 5 1 Ellesmere. I think you all go too far in your respective theories. I think that, partly from a view of their interests, partly perhaps from religious principles, partly perhaps from their just contempt of the frivolous causes which often pro- voke war, the British people have come to a conclusion against it ; but I am not inclined to give all the weight that Milverton does to Wilberforce, and the Wilberforcians of the last generation. Milverton. At any rate, Ellesmere, you perceive the great change that has taken place in the minds of the British people about war. Ellesmere. Well, there is a great change in the French people ; and to whom is this due ? Sir Arthur. The French people have received great lessons in political wisdom. Count Daru, I believe, told them that he had made calculations, by which it appeared that the height of men in France had been lowered one inch and a half, or two inches, by the wars of the First Napoleon. You see how this happens j the taller men are perpetually chosen for war, and are carried off to be slaughtered before they have produced any progeny. Ellesmere. And do you think that the arguments to be derived from such facts as these have any weight against " national glory, national honour, and rectification of fron- tiers ? " Milverton. I do. Besides, the French are the most in- dustrious people in Europe, and they love to see the fruits of their industry. I may be sanguine, but I believe that the French are rapidly entering upon the same platform as ourselves ; and that, if our statesmen manage well, we might yet have them nearly always on our side for the maintenance of the peace of Europe. Ellesmere. Well, we have had enough of foreign politics : let us go to the men who, untold years ago, dwelt upon the Swiss lakes. I will bet anything Milverton makes them talk, and think as if they were profound political economists of the present day ; and if Realmah does not talk to these fishy men much as Milverton would talk to us, my name is not John Ellesmere. Milverton. I can only tell you wnat I know to have E 2 52 occurred. I may use modern terms, and sometimes modern modes of thought in speaking of the lake-men ; but what I know is, that I shall give a most true account of the thoughts and doings of the great Realmah. Hereupon the reading commenced, and was as follows : 0f CHAPTER III. THE TWO WIVES. AT the time when this story commenced, Real- mah had already received the two wives who were be- stowed upon a man of his rank by the laws of the nation. The cousin-wife, the Varnah, as she was called, was a plain young woman, possessing sundry good quali- ties as a housewife. She was regular, punctual, methodical, and a great lover of possessions, not from avarice, but from a desire to have many things to fur- bish up, and to put in their right places. The heads of Realmah's tribe had given her to Realmah with a kindly wish to compensate in some measure for his infirmities. He would never be able to acquire much property, they thought ; but whatever he did acquire would be taken care of, and made the most of, by his Varnah. The alphabet-wife (the Ainah), was one of those girls whose personal appearance it is so difficult to describe, because there are no general terms which can be applied to it. She was not beautiful, nor handsome, nor pretty ; nor was she even what is called interesting-looking. In truth, her whole appear- 53 ance was at first sight rather insignificant, and nobody would have turned to look at her as she passed. Yet she was worth looking at, if looked at with a loving attention. Her small features were full of subtle mobility, and readily expressed the swift change of her thoughts. Her hair was a reddish brown, not unbeautiful ; her deep-set eyes, of a dark blue colour, were really very expressive when you came to look into them ; and there was an air of great resolve about her well-formed lips. She was one of those people in whom dress and distinction of any kind make such a difference. If she 1 had been a princess, one could have made something of her. But she never was well dressed ; and, as to distinction of any kind, she had none. The poor Ainah had never been taught those grace- ful movements which were carefully cultivated from their earliest youth by the girls of the higher class of the Sheviri. And then, again, her hands and feet were by no means small. I wish I could in honesty speak more favourably of the personal appearance of the Ainah ; but, to tell the truth, it was unmistakeably plebeian. She had sprung from one of the lowest tribes of the nation namely, that of the fishermen. After the manner of her tribe, she pronounced some of the commonest words quite wrongly. Louvarah (house) she made into luffee : darumid (people) into roomee : volata (provisions) into vlatee ; with a hundred other gross errors of language. Realmah was well skilled in his language ; and the poor Ainah never uttered a sentence in which she did not sorely shock his sensitive ears. Yet, in reality, as Realmah was the most thoughtful man of his nation, so his Ainah was the girl of the largest mind and nature in that town. This was totally unknown to him ; and he had received her as 54 cinrar. [CHAP. he would have received any other chattel assigned to him by the laws of his country. It was not in his nature to be unkind to any one ; but such an idea as that of loving his Ainah never entered his mind, and would have been received by him from any one else with a smile of derision. It was on the morning succeeding the night during which Realmah had uttered the soliloquy mentioned in the first chapter, that the young man entered his abode, and began talking with his two wives not with a hope of gaining any ideas from them, or with much care for their sympathy, but from a natural wish to talk out his own ideas to somebody to give them, as it were, shape by utterance. " Have you seen the ambassador from the Phela- tahs ?" said Realmah. " Yes," replied the wives. " And what do you think of him ? " " He is beautifully dressed," said the Varnah, " and his presents are of the first quality. He has given us a vase with heads all round it, and serpents crawling up it, meeting, and together forming the handles : it is quite a treasure." It may here be remarked that all the nations of the lake excelled in pottery. It was not that they under- stood the art of burning; but individual thought and skill were thrown into each article, and the variety and strangeness of the designs compensated in great measure for the want of knowledge shown in com- pleting the processes of manufacture. " Yes, yes," said Realmah, somewhat peevishly, "the presents that will return to the giver hereafter as spoil, may well be handsome ; but what do you think of the man himself ? For my part," he ex- claimed with vehemence, " I believe him to be false as the hooded adder." " When did you get truth from any of his nation ? :l IT.] ama. 55 replied the Varnah. (This was the general opinion entertained by the Sheviri of the Phelatahs, and was the -correct common-place for the Varnah to utter.) " I do not mind that," replied Realmah ; " what I want to know is, whether the story which this man brings us is a mere pretext or not. Is our nation to be the slave, and not the ally ?" By the way, Realmah, in his lordly indifference, had never told his wives what was the pretext upon which the ambassador had come. "And what do you think, Ainah ?" " I noted him well," she answered. " He looks straight into people's eyes, because it is the habit of honest men to do so, and he knows it is the way to gain credit ; but I could see that it gave him pain, and that it was a great effort." Realmah, who had been looking down upon the ground, lost in meditation, suddenly raised his eyes, and gazed with astonishment at the Ainah. "And who told you to observe this ?" he said. " My heart," she answered. "Pray do not <=>&y phonee, my good Ainah." (That was the word amongst the fishermen for ' heart.') " Why turn everything into that foolish ee? Cannot you say phonata ?" " Phonata > then," said the Ainah, timidly, with the tears rising to her eyes. "Any one that has got eyes with any power of insight, even the women can see it," muttered Real- mah ; " but our elders, though they have the wisdom and experience of grey hairs, cannot. I must, at all risks, force my suspicions upon them." " Do not go now," said the Varnah. " You must come and see my bridal room, which the dear little Ainah " (she really loved the Ainah, because the girl was so useful and unselfish) " has helped me to decorate." [CHAP. Realmah, who, like most great men, was essentially good-natured, consented to follow the Varnah to the bridal room. She led the way, expecting a burst of applause from him. The Ainah followed ; and, as she followed, sighed. There is no knowing how many thousands of years have passed since those three human beings walked into that bridal room ; but, ancient as the time was, that sigh which tells so much about a wounded heart was still more ancient, and had not been unknown even in the primeval Paradise. Realmah walked about the bridal room, and did his best to appear pleased with the clay vases, the various ornaments formed of feathers, the flint and bronze weapons, and the woven hangings ; but his mind was in the assembly of his chiefs, composing a speech which should be endured even from a young man, which should rouse suspicion, and compel a clear and decided course of action. Suddenly he exclaimed, " If this is truth, then are the ways of falsehood much maligned ; if this is policy, then are the ways of children politic ; if this is the prudence of great chieftains, then are greac chieftains little removed from ordinary men ; if this is statesmanship, then are statesmen blind alike to the history of the past, and to the just forecasting of the future." Saying which, Realmah made two profound bows, one to his Varnah, and the other to the Ainah (for that was high courtesy according to the customs of his nation), and rushed from the bridal chamber into the open air. His wives looked after him amazed. As the hangings closed behind him, the Varnah said, " Poor Realmah ! we should live but meanly if it depended on him to provide for us. But let us look again over all our presents." The Varnah was very skilful in obtaining presents, and had laid all her |lca;Ima(r. 57 telations under strict contribution. With her father she was an especial favourite. Ever since the death of his last wife, she had made the old chief very com- fortable ; and it was with the greatest reluctance, and only from a strong sense of duty, that he had given her up to Realmah. The wonderful flint knives, and many of the bronze ornaments that adorned the Yarn all's bridal room, had belonged to the old chief; but, as the Varnah judiciously observed, why could he not glory over them as well in his daughter's house as in his own ? And the old chief did come frequently to his daughter's house, and was always kindly treated by the Varnah, for she was not like one of King Lear's daughters, but loved her father and her kin- dred. Only where she was, the property must also be, that it might be duly cared for, and kept in order. The Ainah sighed again, and she also said " Poo* Realmah !" and only God could know what depth.' of tenderness, sympathy, appreciation, and hopeless- ness were contained in those two words ; for thi Ainah was well aware that she was but the slave of a great man and nothing more than the slave. Meanwhile Realmah bent his steps slowly and thoughtfully towards the great council-chamber, where, under the presidency of his uncle, the chief of the East, the assembled chiefs and their principal councillors were considering what answer should be given to the ambassador of the Phelatahs. CHAPTER IV. THE COUNCIL. THE chiefs were assembled in a long low room of great antiquity. It had been the council-room of the town ever since it had been first raised upon the 58 iJtadlKgfr. [CHAP. waters by a few fugitives who, in earlier days, had fled from the persecutions of those warriors who pos- sessed weapons of bronze. At the time that Realmah entered, the chief of the East was addressing the assembly. He was an old man, of great authority amongst the people, and of considerable natural sagacity ; but his ideas were wont to travel rather in a groove, and to take the form of melancholy forebodings. Realmah bent himself to the ground. The assem- bled chiefs looked at him with a cold haughty stare which said more plainly even than words could say : "What, young man, is the need of your presence here?" Meanwhile the chief of the East, utterly ignoring the interruption, although he was Realmah's uncle, thus continued his speech. " I foresee the time I say, I distinctly foresee the time, when from the con- stant irruption of these barbarians, life will become so difficult and so precarious for us, we shall be so hunted down by these new comers, that instead of building on the waters, our people will have to place their miserable habitations on dry land. They will thus become the prey of every passer-by. No one will sleep in peace. No one will feel secure that in the morning he and his family will rise to pay their devotions to the sun. With this insecurity, will come an indifference to all the arts of life ; and the whole race will degenerate into inferior animals. " My voice is for war ; my voice is for allying our- selves at once with the Phelatahs. If the nations that surround this great lake can but remain united, they may force back those enemies, who, superior in weapons, but far inferior in true courage, now, accord- ing to the warning words of that noble ambassador, who has just retired from the assembly, threaten the entire destruction of our heaven-descended race." 59 A murmur passed through the assembly a murmur which could not be construed otherwise than into an approval of the sentiments which the aged chief of the East had brought forward with unwonted eloquence. It was at this inopportune moment that poor Real- mah had to explain his unasked-for presence amongst them. After another profound obeisance, he thus began : " Great lords and dividers of bread, I am but a child, and how shall I dare to address this reverend assemblage ? But, while you have been debating upon this grave matter, I have been examining with anxious care the manner of that ambassador. In one word, my gracious fathers, it is not that of a true man. His gifts are everywhere. With whom, when out of your gracious presence, has he been most in company ? With the most easily beguiled and the weakest persons of our town. From them, I know, he has ascertained the number of our warriors, the strength of our fortresses, and the extent of our hunt- ing-fields. He has made the most curious inquiries into our arms of attack and defence, into the state of our hoarded provisions, into the fidelity of our subject tribes. What then, I ask, is his object ? I do not deny that his nation, like ours, dreads the approach of a people far superior to either in the weapons of war, all of whom carry arms which are possessed only by a few of our wealthiest chiefs, and which are looked upon rather as curiosities than as the daily imple- ments of warfare. The policy of the Phelatahs, if I read this man rightly, is to render our nation subject and tributary to theirs, and so to oppose a bold front to the common enemy. But what matters it to whom we are subject, if we are subjected at all ? What I would, with the due humility of youth, propose is, that if we send our forces to join with theirs, we should not send at once the whole flower of our army, 60 |jtalm&{jr, [CHAP. but should divide it into two bands, one of which should openly unite with them, while the other, con- cealed, should be ready to counteract the effect of any attempt on their part to take captive our men, and employ them hereafter as vassals against the common foe." Realmah ceased speaking ; and there was again the same look of polite indifference which had greeted him upon his entrance. He bowed, and withdrew. It may be noticed, by the way, that he quite forgot, or was too nervous, to deliver the fine peroration to his speech with which he had favoured his wives. The debate was resumed ; but the words of the chief of the East were not so powerful as they had been. The chief of the North, whether really con- vinced by Realmah's speech, or being anxious to break the power of the East by encouraging family differences, leant entirely to Realmah's view of the question. " To adopt the young man's suggestion would," he said, " make no real difference except in detail. Two troops might as well be sent out as one. The Phe- iatahs had always been false ; and he had found that the nettle did not sting yesterday, or to-day, for the first time ; but, as far as his poor experience went back, it had always been a stinging plant ; and, as far as his poor discernment foresaw, it always would be. He reminded them of the proverb, ' That if judgment belongs to the old, quickness of perception belongs to the young ; ' or, to speak in the language of the people, that the young foal of the ass might have better sight than the father of lions. That, for his part, he had noticed that even the prejudices of the vulgar were often based upon something sub- stantial, which chiefs of high lineage might not have condescended to observe. Even the infirmities of Reaimah might have rendered his observation very iv.] glealmajr. 61 keen keen as that of a woman ; and the great chiefs then present knew full well that their wives some- times made observations which were worth attending to and which they themselves, conscious of their own power and dignity, had not cared to make. The weasel in its own small circuit saw more clearly than the bison, which relied upon its force, and not upon its sharpness of vision. " In a word, he was not for discarding a prudent suggestion from whatever source it might come, and his vote should be heartily given in favour of the proposal of that young man who had just withdrawn from them, and to whom he should be more inclined to listen from the fact that the young man must have imbibed some of the wisdom of his uncle, the great chief of the East." This artful and judicious speech had great weight with the assemblage ; and after long debate, it was finally agreed that the plan proposed by Realmab. should be adopted by the Council. After the reading was ended, there was no conver- sation of any importance to record, and the party separated ; Ellesmere merely saying that he should, hereafter, have a few remarks to make upon the singular advantages of being a savage like Realmah, and having three wives, even though two of them should be obviously plain and prosaic ; for he would always be able to set two of them against the third. 62 ^alinaj). [CHAP. CHAPTER V. MY master, Mr. Milverton, delighted in frequent excursions of a very humble kind. He used to say that we did not make half use enough of our oppor- tunities while living in the country : that there was always much to be seen within a circle of fifteen miles' radius all manner of beautiful and interesting things. His idea of a tour was not rushing off to Spain or Italy at the rate of thirty miles an hour, but going up a canal in a little boat, or travelling along rustic roads in a pony carriage at the rate of five miles an hour, and taking everything very coolly. " Look," he would say, " at the charming uncertainty you have about your dinner in these excursions. Then, again, how amused you always are at a country inn. The pictures alone are quite a treat, and convey to you something of the history of the last seventy years." Ellesmere, of course, opposed and ridiculed Mr. Milverton's views. He maintained there was nothing like sitting in a comfortable room where there were nice, sleep-provoking arm-chairs ; not that, as he used to observe, Milverton's arm-chairs were comfortable, but tnat they were well-intended. It used to amuse me, this praise of sitting at home, coming from one of the most restless mortals ever born ; for he never could keep quiet for a quarter of an hour together, but would walk round the room while the others were talking ; and a favourite mode of motion of his was to place the chairs so that he could step from one to the other, and thus expend his terrible restlessness. However, though invariably iv. j JSealmub. 63 opposing Milverton's excursions, he was always ready to join in them. On the present occasion Mr. Milverton suggested that we should go to a little inn about eight miles distant, which overlooked a small arm of the sea, where it is proposed to construct a harbour. We set off on a beautiful day, and soon reached our inn. The tide was out, and there was a huge expanse of mud visible. Ellesmere. What a delicious odour of mud ! How gratifying it is to have exchanged our own poor atmosphere for this invigorating air ! Milverton. I always think when I see this place at the time of the receding tide, which gives somewhat of an ungracious aspect to the landscape, how like it is to a person of a fitful temper. The present state represents a sullen mood ; but soon you will see the pleasant tide come up again, and all the scenery about you will become most beautiful as the human being does, when he has thrown orf his sullenness. Ellesmere. I think I have heard you indulge in this simile before. I should be very sorry to show that it does not walk on four legs ; but I cannot help observing that the tide ebbs and flows with regularity, whereas the temper, if I may judge from Lady Ellesmere's, is apt to be a little uncertain in its movements. Lady Ellesmere. It cannot be said, my love, that your temper partakes of uncertainty. Ellesmere. A truly conjugal remark, and as true as it is conj ugal. We then separated until dinner-time, rambling about amongst the rocks and the mud, active as any children in picking up sea weed and shells, and catching crabs : one of which gave a severe bite to Ellesmere, who, with his accustomed good-nature, did not avenge the bite upon the crab, but merely observed, as he put it into its little pool again, " that 64 HUalmajr. L CHAP he was sure it was a female, and did not understand when any kindness was meant for it." We had a very pleasant dinner, and were some- what scolded by the landlady of the inn for our sad deficiency of appetite ; though I thought we all ate like pbughboys. After dinner Mr. Cranmer talked in a most official manner about all the things which he foresaw would happen in foreign and domestic politics ; not without sundry sneers and sniffs from Sir John Ellesmere, whom Mr. Cranmer's talk always provokes to all kinds of sarcastic opposition. The conversation pro- ceeded thus, as well as I can recollect it. Milverton. All political prophecy is so difficult. Elles- mere owns that he cannot foresee what will happen in the course of a three-volume novel. Now, I do not feel such difficulty in that. No : I do not feel that difficulty about novels. There you have only to watch the mind of one man, the author; but, as regards political prophecy, it is a very different thing. Now I wish, for the sake of making a curious experiment, that any one of you, at the outset of any political movement, would write down (it must be in writing) what you really think will happen. You will, I believe, be astonished to find how mistaken your pro- phecy will be. Where men are so deluded, and think that they foresee far more than they do, is in this way that they keep on modifying, from day to day, their prophecy, in correspondence with the daily changes of events. I have watched this matter for years at least, as regards my own mind and have often found how wrong my prophetic anticipations have been. I re- member hearing one of the shrewdest ministers of our time say that he joined a ministry, thinking it would only last seven weeks. " You see," he said, " they were old friends of mine, and they had asked me to join them. And I felt that, being old friends, I was quite willing to partake their downfall ; and here I have been years in office with them." No one can see how a ministry will fall, or how a war 65 will end, or how any series of political events will come to a conclusion. I declare I never knew a ministry go out upon the exact questions they were expected to go out upon. Sir Arthur. We are thrown back to the old French proverb, " Nothing is certain but the unforeseen." Ellesmere. I hate proverbs; they are such bumptious things : they are like boys of sixteen ; they all want taking down, not one peg, but many pegs. Sir Arthur. I must say I delight in French proverbs. Now, what can be better than the celebrated proverb, " Nothing succeeds like success?" Milverton. The opposite is quite as true, " Nothing suc- ceeds like the want of success ;" or, to put it in another way, " None are so successful as the unsuccessful." It all depends upon the meaning you give to the word success. Do you remember how the late Lord Carlisle, good man, used to delight in a saying (where it originally came from I do not know) which ran thus, " Heaven is a place made for the unsuccessful?" You may depend upon it there is, even in this world, nothing in the world so dangerous for a man as to be for a long time supremely successful. I think on this head that the First Napoleon's career is one of the most instructive that the world has ever seen. If he had had but a little less success before he made that fatal blunder of invading Russia, he might have acted with something like wisdom, and an uninterrupted dynasty of his might still have been upon the throne of France. By the way, I was reading the other day another account of that invasion of Russia (a portion of history which I am never tired of reading), and I observed that one division of the army I think it was Murat's had been reduced before it returned to Wilna to 400 infantry and 500 dismounted cavalry, without any guns, or any materials of war of any kind. Now, that division probably started with 60,000 or 70,000 men. But the most instructive thing of that cam- paign is to observe the wonderful pedantry and perverse obstinacy, in ignoring the most obvious facts, which that great man Napoleon manifested to the end of the campaign. He would draw up the most admirable orders of the day, F 66 |lcalma{j, [CHAP, but unfortunately facts were against him ; and it was no good ordering that 20,000 men should go here, and 30,000 men go there, when the division in question was almost annihilated. From the first opening of the campaign, how- ever, there was the same want of skill manifested, and the same abjuration of facts. Now, it was thought a wonderfully clever thing throughout Europe, that the Em- peror should have arranged his 5,000 wagons in military fashion ; but any man, who knows anything about wagons, carters, and oxen Wren Hoskyns or Mr. Mechi, for in- stance could have told him that a transport of this kind could not be arranged in a purely military fashion. Ellesmere. For goodness' sake do not let Milverton get upon the subject of war. At ail hazards he should be stopped in talking about it. Let me see, what were we talking about before ? Oh ! proverbs : well, I say a proverb is like a rule in grammar. I remember there was a detestable Greek grammar, which was the torment of my early days, and which used to lay down some rule, and then there used to come pages of exceptions. In my perverse way, I used to make one of the exceptions the rule, and throw the rule into one of the exceptions. I hate grammar ! But to return to proverbs : as I said before, they are such bumptious things. It may be said of them what the late Lord Melbourne said of dear Macaulay, " They are so cock-sure about everything." Cranmer. I wonder to hear you say " dear Macaulay ;" I should have thought that, being such a great talker, he would have interfered with you, Sir John. Ellesmere. Do you ? you are quite mistaken then. Who was it said of Matt Lewis " I would give many a sugar-cane, Matt Le\vis were alive again " ? so I being by nature a poet, say ' ' I would bear a load of pain, So Macaulay were alive again." Whenever I was invited to meet him, I always went. It is true he was a great talker, but who talked so well? There v.] ^alma{f. 67 was no vanity in his talk. There was simply an exuberant knowledge and an exquisite enjoyment of the subject he was discoursing about. I can tell you, I did not interrupt him. I was always too glad to hear him talk. He would lay hold of a particular author, and in a short time (say twenty minutes) give you the whole pith and marrow of that author. I remember his doing so once with Cobbett, and one had, I believe, in this brief twenty minutes all the best things ever said by that most vigorous writer. Then if any of the less prominent characters in history were mentioned, he had anecdotes about them which were known to no one else. I remember his once describing to us the character and sayings of Lord Thurlow ; and he told a story of that large- eye-browed personage which I never heard before, and each of you ought to give me half-a-crown at least, if I agree to tell you. Are the half-crowns forthcoming ? (We nodded assent.) Well, those were days when we had not the infliction of railways, and when barristers, even on the Northern circuit, travelled in post-chaises. It fell to the lot of a very saintly, good man, to have to travel with Thurlow, who was then Attorney-General. A journey to the North was a serious thing in those times, and my saintly friend dreaded the long journey, with the blustering Attorney-General, who he was sure would utter many naughty words before they arrived at York. They had hardly left London before the good man re- marked, "We shall have a long journey, Mr. Attorney, and so I thought I would bring some books to amuse us. I daresay it is a long time since you have read Milton's ' Paradise Lost.' Shall I read some of it to you ? It will remind us of our younger days." (In those days men read great works ; for there were not so many books of rubbish- ing fiction, to which the reading energies of the present day are directed.) " Oh, by all means ! " said Thurlow ; " I have not read a word of Milton for years." The good man began to read out his Milton : presently he came to the passage where Satan exclaims, " Better to reign in hell than serve in Heaven." Upon wtiich Thurlow F 2 68 JUalmar. [CHAP. exclaimed, "A d d fine fellow, and I hope he may win." My saintly friend in horror shut up his " Paradise Lost," and felt that it would be no good reading to the Attorney-General, if he was to be interrupted by such wicked expressions of sentiment. Milvertoii. Did you ever read Macaulay's poem on his defeat at Edinburgh ? It is a most noble production. I am ashamed to say I cannot recollect it correctly ; but the next time we meet I will read it out to you. Cranmcr. I really cannot understand how Sir John could have endured the enforced silence which Lord Macaulay's talk must have imposed upon him. Ellesmere. I am a misunderstood man, not only by Secretaries of the Treasury, but by all people who come near me. I am un homme incompris. Now, I ask you all, did I interrupt Milverton when he was going on with his "Realmah" story? If a talk or reading is good, I am the last man in the world to interrupt it. I only interrupt folly, irrelevancy, inaccuracy, and incomplete logic. I am the best listener in the United Kingdom when there is anything worth listening to ; but I am, I repeat, a misunderstood man. Poor dear Charles Lamb complains that he was in the same plight. Nine-tenths of the world do not understand a joke ; and no official man, Mr. Cranmer, ever does. Why even my wife does not understand me. Lady Ellesmere. No, my dear, it would take nine of the cleverest women in England to understand you, and they must pass the chief part of their time in interchanging notes about your character. Ellesmere. Let us enumerate the nine only, for good- ness' sake, do not let them be nine Muses. Let me see, what should be their functions ? 1. The arch-concoctor of salads. 2. The sewer-on of buttons. 3. The intelligent maker of bread-sauce. 4. The player of Beethoven's music. 5. The player of common tunes, " Old Dog Tray," " Early in the Morning," " Pop goes the Weasel," and " Paddle your own Canoe," all of which tunes I think beautiful ; but, of course, because 69 the populace approves of them, which populace is the best judge of such things, my Lady Ellesmere must needs turn up her nose (and a very pretty one it is) against any one who admires these tunes, and she declines to play them to me. Lady Ettesmere. I can well imagine you do admire these " tunes," as you call them. It is certainly worth my while to get up Beethoven for you, when " Early in the Morning " satisfies you quite as well. But pray go on with your list of wives, Sir John. Ellesmere. 6. The consoler under difficulties. 7. The good reader. 8. The one beloved wife (dear deluded creature) who always believes in her husband, and takes him to be the discreetest, most virtuous, and most ill-used of mortal men. I do love her / 9. The manager of the other wives. By the way, has there not been some talk of a tenth Muse ? Well, if I am to have a tenth wife, she shall be the noble and rare creature who can cook a potato. My list is now complete. My polygamic nature is satisfied with these ten adorable beings. Sir Arthur. Which will you be, Lady Ellesmere ? Lady Ellesmere. The sewer-on of buttons. I do not feel equal to the bread-sauce, though that would be the lighter work of the two if one's mind could master it. Ellesmere. But, come, let us go on with Realmah, alias Milverton the Milverton who existed when that ground which is now at the bottom of the Swiss lakes was at the surface. I do like a story ! Mrs. Milverton. Is it not somewhat of a confession of weakness on the part of Sir John Ellesmere, that he likes a story ? And was he not a few minutes ago abusing fiction ? Ellesmere. No, it is not a confession of weakness, Mrs. Milverton. And as for inconsistency to be consistent, one must be dull ; and nobody can accuse me of that. From the earliest ages of the world, when men dwelt in tents, and looked out upon the stars at midnight, delighting in them more than in any other created thing, men and women would gather round a fire, and listen entranced, 70 HUalfflBJf, [CHAP. through the dark hours of night, to any one who would tell them a story ; however absurd, however inconsistent, how- ever improbable, that story might be. Not that I mean for a moment to say, Mrs. Milverton, that your husband invents absurd, inconsistent, and improbable stories. Doubtless all that he says is absolutely true, and must, as he assures us, have happened. Did not his nymph tell him ? By the way, I wonder you are not jealous of that same nymph : women can contrive to be jealous of any thing, or person, or animal, or even insect and you see how she inspires him with a higher degree of inspiration than can be gained from your- self, or any other person who exists upon this solid earth. Mrs. Milverton. I do not know what jealousy is, Sir John. Ellesmere. Happy woman ! I observe that Milverton is silent : he knows very well what jealousy is, at least on your part. Why, if I were to poke the fire in his study, you would be jealous that you had not done it : you are all alike, and jealousy is nine-tenths of your love. Whereas, with us men, jealousy is almost a thing unknown. By the way, which of the three young savage ladies, that we are introduced to in Realmah, do you think you most resemble ? Is it the prudent Varnah, the beautiful Talora, or the incomparable Ainah (with large hands and feet), that you are willing to be classed with ? Milverton. Mrs. Milverton possesses the merits of all the three in her own person the beauty of Talora, the prudence of the Varnah, and the sympathetic nature of the Ainah. Ellesmere. You have not a few shillings about you, ha\e you, Mrs. Milverton, that you could give your husband for that speech? for I am sure it is one that requires to be paid for. Now, Milverton, do go on : I declare seriously I am thoroughly interested in your story, and will not make a single interruption, until those shining waters desert their charming mud, and the stars come out, and we order our horses, and return to the solid comforts and second-rate arm-chairs in Milverton's smoke-dried study. v.] Storg of I CHAPTER V. REALMAH VISITS TALORA. THERE are few words more abused than the word " love." It is the most commonly-used word in all languages, except the word " money," and some short emphatic word, or other, signifying a curse. But as to the substance, it is rare. Now Talora was a girl incompetent to love any person supremely but herself. In that age of the world beautiful women must have suffered from the loss of one great source of pleasure. They had no looking-glasses. This want they endea- voured to supply, in a very dim and poor manner, by burnished shells. And there was alv/ays the glassy water from which the fair dwellers on the lake could gain some indistinct notion of their beauty. From what has been said above, it must not be sup- posed that Talora was a peculiarly heartless person. She was fond of her father, when he did not thwart her, and very gracious and good-natured to her com- panions when they submitted to her rule. Greatly admired in her own section of the city, she put a high value on herself, and was much afraid of con- tracting any marriage that should not be fully worthy of her. In personal appearance she was tall, shapely, and bright-looking ; with crisp, wavy hair, brilliant eyes, that had not much meaning in them, a pleasant smile, and some very engaging dimples. Her high rank, for she was the only daughter of the chief of the North, entitled her to be sought for by the noblest youths of the city. 7 2 untaj, [CHAP. This was the maiden in whose favour Realmah had placed all his future hopes of happiness. She regarded him with a certain kindliness, and even perceived that he was the most intelligent man she had ever seen ; but his infirmity, which she naturally thought would surely prevent his attaining the highest rank, rendered her very careful of giving him encouragement. Athlah, the second son of the chief of the South, was also one of her suitors. He was a coarse, violent man, who, as far as bravery was concerned, had already distinguished himself in war ; and he looked with supreme contempt upon the presumption of Realmah, whom he held to be a poor feeble creature, destined for ever to partake of the occupations of women. Athlah was not a man of sound judgment, or far- seeing sagacity ; but he had considerable gifts of Nature, which gained for him credit and high standing amongst the men of his own town. Besides being a brave warrior, he was a bold, fluent, and forcible speaker. His speeches abounded in strong metaphors, quaint similes, and homely proverbs; and, in speak- ing, he was ever most powerful when most abusive. In the Council of the Four Hundred he was always gladly listened to, and men renowned for state craft rejoiced to see Athlah rise in the debate ; for they felt certain that somebody was then going to be soundly chastised, and that there would be fun and life and real battle. It is a strange thing to say, but when the number of any public body exceeds that of forty or fifty, the whole assembly has an element of joyous childhood in it, and each member revives at times the glad, mis- chievous nature of his schoolboy days. Amongst themselves the first-rate statesmen spoke depreciatingly of Athlah, as a man whose opinion in public affairs was worth very little ; but, as I said before, they were all (all but the victim who probably v.] lUalnmjr. 73 foresaw his fate) delighted when the tall form of Athlah rose in the assembly, for they knew that something was coming which would break through the pattering monotony of dull, though wise, debate. Athlah was a perfect master of the art of sneering, which, however, is not an art that demands the highest ability. It was to the apartments of Talora that Realmah betook himself after his speech in the council. He told her what he had done, and she sympathised with him to a certain extent. She also made many in- quiries about the dress of the ambassador from the Phelatahs, and how he wore his beard. Then she amused herself and Realmah, by making ugly faces as far as Talora could make ugly faces to imitate the grim chief of the South ; and walked about the room with pompous step, and head thrown back, to imitate the dignified gestures of the proud chief of the West. For Talora was a great mimic. Realmah, deep in love, mistook this mimicry for wit. At this moment Athlah coming in, and not being over-pleased to see Realmah there, sarcastically in- quired whether he had corne to help Talora to spin, whereupon she smiled pleasantly at the new comer, and seemed to enjoy the jest. She then told Athlah that Realmah had been present at the great council, and recounted the advice he had urged upon the chiefs. Athlah was provoked at what he considered the presumption of Realmah, in venturing to enter a council-room where he (Athlah) would not have dared to intrude. " Ah ! " he exclaimed, " I see we are going to bor- row an arrow from the sheaf of that wise tribe, the Doolmies. When they go to war, there is always a band of girl-warriors ; and these are found to be very useful in killing those who are too badly wounded to 74 amaf. [CHAP. make any resistance, and in despoiling- the dead. Indeed, they are serviceable in many ways after a battle, and we call them the Doolmie she-crows, birds not quite as noble as vultures, but nearly as useful. I suppose " (turning to Realmah) " you will take the command of this redoubtable band, and they will doubtless be called the Realmahras. Oh, it is not for nothing that you stay at home with the women, and that your knitted brows bear the signs of such deep thought. Your subtle wit becomes almost equal to that of the other girls. The council must have been delighted with this wise advice which they received from one so skilled in war." Then Athlah went on to say, " Set a weasel to catch a rat. I do not wonder that Realmah sees through the deep design's of the false Phelatah. Even with my poor wit, I have observed that these emis- saries, called ambassadors, are not so very unlike old women, being taken from the ranks of those elderly warriors who have not been greatly renowned in war, and have somehow from excess of bravery no doubt, managed, through a long career of warlike service, to return from battle without such vulgar signs of it as wounds. We, mere rough men of war, often fail to understand those sage ambassadors ; but feminine craft, when matched against theirs, from its kindred nature, easily discovers their false designs and cunning purposes. Realmah dear, 1 I congratu- late you upon your rendering such great service to the state." Realmah had not attempted to interrupt this sneer- ing tirade of Athlah's, nor did he show, by look or gesture, that it affected him in the least. It was not quite the same when Talora, after laughing heartily at Athlah's sayings, maliciously added, " That Athlah must recollect that, if Realmah had not had much 1 Athlah used the word klava, the feminine form of the word " dear." v.] icama. 75 practice in the art of war, he had invented two or three new ways of playing mikree. 1 Besides, with his clever tongue, he would out-talk even the girls, and so keep them in order." Realmah laid his hand lightly upon Athlah's arm, and said, "The All-powerful One, not to be named, has given you strong arms and brave ones, Athlah ; He has also given you a strong and cruel tongue ; but He has not blessed you with a big heart ; for if He had, you would not pour insult upon one who has been weak and maimed from his birth, and who cannot answer you in the only way in which you deserve to be answered, and which you would best understand." Athlah, who, though coarse and violent, was not really a bad-hearted fellow, and a thoroughly brave man, felt the rebuke keenly, and blushed a blush that was quite visible even under his dusky skin, stam- mering out something about people not understanding; what was merely spoken in jest. Realmah then approached Talora, and said, "Always as witty as beautiful; but still I think Talora might have been kinder to her poor slave, remembering too that it was to please her, when they were boy and girl together, that he invented the new ways of playing mikree, which he is proud to see still find favour with the mikree-playing boys and girls of Abibah." He then smiled, bowed, and began to retire. As he reached the matted hanging which was at the entrance of the apartment, he found that Athlah had intercepted him, and in an awkward way was holding out his hand. Realmah grasped it warmly, for he felt that the rude soldier meant to offer an apology, which was a great effort of good nature for him. While still retaining Athlah's hand in his, Realmah said, " You have a bigger and a better heart than I 1 A sort of game like prisoner's bars, /6 |lmlmalj, [CHAP. supposed, Athlah ; forgive me for having spoken so unjustly and unkindly." Realmah then took his departure, and walked wearily back to his own home, where he neither expected, nor sought for, consolation. As he walked he muttered to himself, "The she- spider for fierceness, and the she-adder for spite" (a proverb of the Sheviri, probably directed against women). " I suppose the proverb is true," he added ; and that the same thing holds good throughout all nature." But not the less did he love Talora. Her faults were the faults of her sex ; her merits all her own. If the tolerance that is created by love could be carried into other relations of human life, what a happy world it would be ! almost realizing Christianity. When he had returned to his own home, he was kindly greeted by his wives, the Varnah and the Ainah. The Ainah looked wistfully at him, expect- ing and hoping to hear some account of his success. But he was silent upon that subject. The good Varnah scolded him heartily for being late for his meal, and said that he was like no other person in Abibah, but was always late. She had, however, prepared for him, knowing that he would be tired, what she had heard him say that he liked best. Realmah thanked her, and praised her for her thoughtfulness, and then, during the meal, chatted pleasantly about household matters and household goods, to the great delight of the Varnah, who said to herself that some day Realmah might become quite like other people, which was the greatest praise that she could give to anybody. The Ainah said nothing, fearing to ask the ques- tions which she longed to ask, and conjecturing his failure at the council from his silence. Realmah's heart and soul were far away from v.] gealmajy. 77 household stuff, meditating battles, sieges, and sur- prises, in which Realmah himself was not to take a small or unimportant part. CHAPTER VI. THE TREACHERY OF THE PHELATAHS. REALMAH felt bitterly the cold reception he had met with from the council of the chiefs ; and he had not the slightest idea that his proposition had received a favourable hearing. On the ensuing day, after the council had been held, the ambassador from the Phelatahs was dis- missed, with an assurance, however, that in two months' time the forces of the Sheviri should join those of the Phelatahs, just where the river Coolahva falls into the great lake. Notwithstanding this friendly assurance the council had resolved to adopt Realmah's advice at least, so far as to divide their forces into two bands : the one was to march along the margin of the lake, while the other, starting a day or two earlier, was to make its way through the woods the two divisions having previously arranged a system of correspon- dence by means of signals. Athlah was entrusted with the command of the main body, which moved along the margin of the lake, while Realmah had the guidance of the de- tachment that was to force its way through the woods. There was much murmuring at Realmah's being entrusted with the command of these troops. The excuses given for his appointment were, that the idea of sending this second division was his ; that the men of whom it consisted were not the |lealma{)r. [CHAP. flower of the army ; that, in all probability, they would never be engaged, and that they were merely sent by way of precaution, and were to return, if possible, unperceived by their allies, should their countrymen not require their assistance. Every arrangement having now been made, the ex- pedition set out and joined the Phelatahs. Nothing occurred for some little time to justify any suspicion. At length, however, it was to be observed that the Phelatahs far outnumbered their allies ; that, when the united forces halted during the march, it was the Phelatahs who occupied always the most com- manding positions ; and, moreover, there was an air of triumph about them that did not fail to rouse the attention even of the fearless and unsuspecting Athlah. The united troops continued their march. Slight occasions of dispute arose which were made the most of by the chiefs of the Phelatahs. Finally, under pretence of there being insubordination (al- though there had been no question of allowing supremacy to the Phelatahs), the principal leaders of the Sheviri were seized and bound ; gratuities were offered to the common soldiers ; the mask was entirely thrown off: and the unfortunate Sheviri found themselves incorporated in a foreign army. Gratuities, however, do not compensate for insults; and the common soldiers felt themselves as much aggrieved as their chiefs, who had been released from their bonds, but who were strictly guarded as they marched along, and were treated in all respects as hostages, if not as captives. Tidings of this treachery on the part of the Phe- latahs did not fail to reach Realmah. He skilfully prepared a night surprise, which was so far suc- cessful, that after a fearful and confused contest, he was able to liberate the chiefs of the Sheviri, and to gculmalj, 79 cover the flight of the main body of men into the adjacent woods, from whence, burning with a sense of injury, they returned to their own town in a few weeks after they had left it. The whole army felt that Realmah's prudence had saved them ; and he became, for the moment, the hero of the Sheviri. His return to the city was welcomed in a triumphal manner, for, though the Sheviri had suffered much in the night attack and in the subsequent contest, to have escaped so great a disaster as the capture of their finest body of troops was held to be a signal cause of triumph. Immediately a meeting of the great Council of the Four Hundred was held, and the whole of the transactions of the short campaign were explained to them by Athlah and Realmah. Realmah's speech was eminently judicious. He said not a word in self-glorification, nor did he in any way refer to his past warnings, but merely mentioned to the great council that he had laid some facts before the Council of the Three Fours, which facts had accidentally come to his notice, and which had led them, in their high wisdom, to make such arrangements of the forces as had insured a com- plete defeat of the wicked design of the Phelatahs. When he left the council he had not by self-praise exhausted any of the gratitude and respect which he now felt sure would be entertained for him by his nation. That there is nothing new under the sun was the remark of wearied Solomon. Not wholly a true re- mark ; for was not Christianity a new thing ? But still the saying holds good for the most part in human affairs. The system of the Roman Empire of having a Caesar as well as an Augustus had been adopted, or rather anticipated, long ago by the |lealmafr. [CHAP. Sheviri, and had doubtless been borrowed by them from some more ancient nation. There was at this moment a vacancy in the office of Caesar, i. e. of second in command to the chief of the East. The name of this office was Luathmor. By general acclamation this great office was conferred upon Realmah. The insignia consisted of a coronet rudely formed of dark polished stones and feathers, and of a blue scarf called the shemar. The shemar, how- ever, did not strictly belong to the office of the Luathmor, but had almost always been granted at the same time to the person on whom that office had been conferred. No one murmured when it was decreed unani- mously by the Council of the Four Hundred and oy the Council of the Three Fours that permission to wear the blue shemar should be conferred upon the young chief, Realmah, whose sagacity had gone far to save the republic ; for men are always very grateful just at first, and when the remembrance of the service rendered is fresh and warm in their minds. After the reading had finished, I am sorry to say that we had rather a painful scene. Sir John Elles- mere has great merits, as every one knows ; and I am sure no one admires him more than I do ; but he is one of those persons who indulge in intellectual antipathies. This Mr. Cranmer is just the man to keep Sir John in a perpetual state of irritation. I cannot recollect exactly how the conversation began, but I think it was by either Mrs. Milverton or Lady Ellesmere saying, "Oh, how I wish our dear Mr. Dunsford were alive ; how delighted he would be with the character of Realmah, and with all the proceedings that took place in the great Lake City." My readers may perhaps remember that the former conversations of the " Friends in Council " were collected by a good clergyman of the name of Duns- ford, who had been tutor to Mr. Milverton and Sir John Ellesmere. Mr. Cranmer then remarked, that Sir John must Lave been a great torment to Mr. Dunsford, and must have given him many an unhappy hour. Ellesmere. Sir, I did nothing of the kind. Dunsford thoroughly understood me. I never gave him an unhappy hour, or an unhappy five minutes. It was impossible to admire a man more than I admired Dunsford ; and of course he knew it. These simple, unselfish, transparently good peo- ple, like Dunsford, are the salt of the earth, and happily they are to be found everywhere. You cannot enter into any small portion of society, but you find them there, believing in the good of everybody, and bringing out the good points of every character. Sir, I am not such a fool as not to have known how far I could go with dear old Dunsford. I never provoked him more than such a man ought to be pro- voked, in order to show forth the full beauty of his character. Cranmer. Crushed herbs are very sweet. Ellesmere. Sir, he was never crushed by me. He was not one of those men who require to be trepanned in order that a joke, or a jesting objection, should be inserted into their dense brains. He was a good clergyman, and not an obtuse official man. Cranmer. Oh, of course I am very obtuse, Sir John. I am sure I did not mean any offence. [Ellesmere got up, and, in his pleasantest manner, offered his hand to Mr. Cranmer.] Ellesmere. Now don't be angry with me, there's a good fellow : we shall be famous friends when we understand one another better; only it is rather hard upon one to be obliged to explain that one does not mean any harm by one's foolish G 8 2 |iealma{j, [CHAP. talk. Don't imagine, Mr. Cranmer, that I don't appreciate you. Didn't I listen to you most patiently, and vote with you too in all emergencies, when you were fighting the estimates the last session when you and I were in office together? and I declare no man could have done it better than you did, and I sympathised with you thoroughly. [Turning to us, Ellesmere continued :] What a hand at ex- planation he was ! Some foolish person wished to under- stand something about an estimate, and presumed to ask a question. Cranmer rose to explain ; he was lucid, frank, candid, especially candid ; and when he sat down, the House felt that something had been well explained, and yet one understood less about the subject generally than one did before. Now I take this to be a triumph of skill on 'the part of a great Government official. Moreover, it is not a delusion impressed upon us by him, for really one does often find that when an explanation is given of any complicated matter, one understands less about it than one fancied one did before ; and that the question one had asked was silly and irrelevant. I can assure you, grave official men on both sides of the House used to nod approval when Cranmer was giving any of his clear and candid explanations. [Mr. Cranmer took Sir John Ellesmere's hand, and gave it a most friendly grasp. The talk about the estimates had mollified him.] Cranmer. It is impossible to be angry with you, Sir John ; you make such pleasant fun of all of us. Ellesmere. It does me good to hear you say so : we will never have a dispute again. Quarrels are such vulgar things ; and you are the last man in the world I should like to quarrel with. You are made to be in office ; and does not one always want some little job or other done, which the Secretary of the Treasury can further ? [We all made a point of laughing loudly at this last speech, and harmony was from that moment re- established ; Sir John Ellesmere resumed the conver- sation.] v.l geatetatr* 8 3 Ellesmere. I must show Cranmer that I can be very serious, and I declare I am really much interested in this history of Realmah. But is it not asking too much from us to believe that this semi-savage was such a great politician ? Sir Arthur. Mr. Milverton has been making me read that epic he talked to us about namely, the "Araucana;" and I do assure you that there are speeches in that epic which show us that some of those savages as you call them possessed a high kind of political wisdom. " Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona;" and I do not see why there should not have lived considerable statesmen in the earliest times of the world's history. You must remember, too, that their statesmanship was of a much easier character than ours : that they had not the complicated questions arising out of a state of high civilization to deal with. Ellesmere. You have been in high office, Sir Arthur, and you might really tell us whether Milverton speaks truly and justly, when he asserts that there is so much to be done in the way of improving Government action, even amongst ourselves, who imagine that we are the best governed people upon the earth. Sir Arthur. If I understand Mr. Milverton, I think he is quite right. I can see that he wants more intellectual power brought to the aid of Government. You and I were at college together, Ellesmere ; though I am sorry to say we saw very little of one another. Ellesmere. I was a poor man, a sizer, and had to make my way in the world ; you were a rich one ; and people do not often meet who live at different poles of the pecuniary world. Sir Arthur. But I have no doubt you knew Alwin ? Ellesmere. Oh yes : the cleverest fellow I ever did know. Sir Arthur. Well, when I came into office, one of my first thoughts was whether I could get Alwin into the service of the Government ; but he is a married man, and has a large family, and is making a lot of money quietly as a consulting counsel. There was nothing I could offer him. What would the Treasury have said to me if I had asked G 2 84 lUaimat, [CHAP. them to give 3,ooo/. a. year to what Milverton calls an " in-doors statesman ?" It would have been no good point- ing out to them that such a man might save us 30,0007. a year. Mr. Cranmer is not on my side of politics, but he knows very well what an enormous difficulty I should have had, to persuade any Secretary of the Treasury to give 3,ooo/. a year to such a man. Well, there is nothing hardly that that man does not know, besides being a good lawyer. He is a man of the greatest general knowledge that I ever met with ; and it happened that he was especially skilled in matters relating to my department. But I might as well have tried to have got the man in the moon to work with me as to have got Alwin. Ellesmere. Milverton's nymphs are very valuable per- sonages ; and they never charge any money for their advice. Milverton. Do not sneer at my nymphs; they are as useful to me as Pope's sylphs were to him in the " Rape of the Lock." But to talk seriously about Government. Do look at the difficulties ; consider that at every step that a Government takes it is beset by importunate and powerful interest?. Then look at the overwork of the principal men connected with the Government. Then see how the House of Com- mons is absorbed, not in its own proper work so much as in that which scarcely belongs to it, in executive as well as in legislative business. Giving Parliament credit for immense ability, we must admit that it is a body not fit for every kind of business. Ellesmere. Bureaucracy ! bureaucracy ! Milverton always associates himself in imagination, and probably in reality, with whatever is bureaucratic. Milverton. I do not admit that. But I want to bring before you another matter bearing closely upon this sub- ject, and that is the unpleasantness of the capital as a place of residence. This will some day exercise a most malign influence over public affairs. Ellesmere. This is a new idea : but I really do not see exactly what it means. 85 Milverton. I almost despair of making you see it ; .but I can tell you that the permanent officers of State those men upon whom every Government must mainly rely would well understand what I mean. No sooner does any opportunity arise for getting away from London, than all important people quit it. But I return to Ellesmere's attack upon me respecting my bureaucratic tendencies. I maintain that there is not a person in England who has a greater horror of bureaucracy than I have. I only want to point out to you, that there are certain things which can only be done by bureaucracy. I have talked all this over before, and therefore I am aware that I am only repeating myself. Do you remember that passage in Aristophanes, where some good citizen resolves to make peace or war upon his own account simply, and to deal with the enemy himself? Ellesmere. I never read that improper book Aristo- phanes, but I am willing to take for granted what you say. Milverton. Well, you see how absurd it is for a private individual to talk of making peace or war by himself alone. But perhaps you do not see that there are many other matters in which also he cannot act alone. What I am driving at is, to establish a wide distinction between those things that can be done by a private individual, and in which he ought not to be interfered with, and those things in which the State must act for him. Take sanitary matters take education ; these are things in which a private individual cannot act very forcibly. They must be transacted by Government. Ellesmere. True : speaking as an individual, I decline to have anything to do with main drainage, or the Con- science Clause. Milverton. Then you admit that there are some subjects in which the bureau must act for the general community ; and I am quite willing that the bureau should be confined to this action. Ellesmere. I was greatly struck, Milverton, by the re- mark you made a little time ago, that the aversion to [CHAP. London on the part of men of importance is a serious injury to public business. Do you hold to it, and is it really your own? Milverton. I do hold to it, but it is not altogether my own. A late Under-Secretary of State used often to talk over the matter with me, and we thoroughly agreed upon it. I maintain that the celebrated Chancellor Oxenstiern's maxim, " Qiiantula sapientia regitur mundus" is only par- tially true, and that " Quantulo tempore regitur mundus" would be a much more valuable maxim. The truth is, most men of average ability are very capable of estimating good arguments, pro or con, about any matter ; and for my own part, I would rather have the attention of an average man for two hours, when the business really requires that time for discussion, than the attention of the cleverest man in England who will only give you one hour. Ask any person who has really mastered the details of any great subject, and who has had to lay them before other people for decision. You will seldom find that he complains of any want of apprehension on their part, but that he will bitterly complain that he was not allowed time enough to lay before them the whole matter with all its bearings. Now, the time to be given for considering a great sub- ject is sure to be very much limited when people are very anxious to get away from the spot where the discussion takes place. And so it becomes a matter of great impor- tance that the capital of every country should be a pleasant place for residence, as the main business of the country must be transacted there. In all committees and councils, it is to be observed that the man of endurance and perseverance, who may, after all, be a very inferior man in point of thoughtfulness, will ulti- mately have too much power and influence. And it will be putting additional leverage into his hands, if he knows that the cleverest men amongst his opponents will be anxious to get away at a certain time, and that he can gain his point by outstaying them, whether he outreasons them or not. Sir Arthur. I want to bring another branch of the sub- ject before you. I think there might be a better division v.] fUalnmjy. 87 than there is of the functions of government. For instance, I would have a Minister of Justice, who should attend to matters of justice only. I would at the same time have a minister whose sole duty it should be to attend to the physical well-being of the community. I am not sure that 1. would not also throw upon him the business of educa- tion. And then, to make room for this important minister, I would cancel those offices which are becoming obsolete, I would, for instance, cancel the Privy Seal, in order to make room for a Minister of Health and Education. Milverton. I entirely agree with you, Sir Arthur. Then there is another thing I would do. I would certainly make more use of the men who hold second-class places in Government I think it is very hard upon them that, for the most part, they have their tongues tied, and that they are distanced in public estimation by those who are called independent members, who, being free from official tram- mels, have opportunities of distinguishing themselves which are denied to official personages of the second class. Sir Arthur. This is very difficult, Milverton. You see, it would be a very serious thing for an Under-Secretary of State to be speaking in a contrary sense to his chief. Milverton. I know all that, but I would occasionally give him an opportunity of distinguishing himself. I would entrust him, for instance, with the sole conduct of some great measure. Ellesmere. How true men are to themselves and their old positions ! Sir Arthur cannot forget that he has been a Secretary of State. Milverton. But where the greatest opportunities for im- provement in government lie, are in Colonial affairs. We really must come, before long, to some definite principles as to how we are to deal with our Colonies ; and in any change of Government, the minister about whose appoint- ment I feel the most anxiety is the Minister for our Colonial affairs. No father ever had a more difficult problem put before him, when he has growing-up boys to deal with, than we have in the management of our Colonies. It \vould be very hard upon England to be dragged into an expensive war for any of these Colonies. S8 !calma!r, [CHAP. Sir Arthur, And, on the other hand, it would be very hard to desert them in the time of need. Milverton. How to reconcile, in a just manner, these two lines of policy is, you may depend upon it, the greatest question of the present day. Nobody seemed inclined to combat this proposi- tion. The ladies said it was getting late ; and so we ordered the carriages and returned to Worth- Ashton, after a very pleasant day spent at the little inn near the harbour, which, as we left it, was overflowed by the full tide, and, with the setting sun upon it, looked most beautiful and attractive. As we drove away, Ellesmere nudged Milverton, and said, "You see good temper has come over the landscape, and over us." Then in a whisper, " I assure you I won't break out again with Cranmer, whatever he may say to me. But then, you know how I loved Dunsford ; and I believe he was nearly as fond of me as he was of you, though of course your views always suited him better than mine did. Poor dear man ! What a large bit of life the loss of such a man takes out from us for ever ! Yes, for ever ! " vi.] CHAPTER VT. IN commencing this chapter, I must say something about Mr. Mauleverer. To me, with his undisguised love of eating, and his dreary depreciation of all human affairs, he was certainly a disagreeable character. I intimated some- thing of this kind to Mr. Milverton. He replied, " My dear boy, what I dislike in you young people, is your terrible want of tolerance. Certainly, as a man grows older, he loses some of the refinement and some of the absolute straightforwardness that belong to youth ; but he generally gains something that is of more worth than what he loses namely, tolerance, or to use a more Christian word, charity. Now, that sensual man, as I know you think him to be, is a most devoted friend, and would lay down his fortune and his life, and even his truffles, for us, his friends. Shall I tell you what he did a few months ago ? He had half his fortune placed in one of those banks about which there were the worst rumours. He came to me, and talked about it. I naturally advised him to withdraw some of the money. ' No/ he said, ' I can- not do it. This banker's father once aided my father, and I will partake the fall of the house, if it does fall.' And he has partaken it ; and, what is more, you will never hear a murmur from him upon the subject. " Now, you know, I am not going to dislike such a man as that, merely because he has an inordinate love of truffles which, by the way, I think a most overrated fungus." I never said anything more against Mr Maule- verer. There is another of our companions about which I must say something. Everybody, I imagine, supposes 90 ILealmalf. [CHAP. that he, or she, has the most wonderful dog in existence ; but I do believe that it is no delusion on our part to declare that we have the most unapproach- able dog I mean unapproachable in a good sense. She is a bull-terrier. All the ladies vow that, with her white body, red eyes, and protruding lower lip, she is hideously ugly ; whereas, on the other hand, all the gentlemen maintain that she is " beautiful exceed- ingly." And Mr. Milverton will become quite elo- quent about the tenderness and the pathos that are expressed in her face. He has given her the rather inappropriate name of " Fairy." She is the only dog I ever knew that could kiss. Most dogs slobber over you, and make you very uncomfortable, while you are receiving their most affectionate attentions ; but Fairy can give you a dry kiss. Another most extraordinary thing about her is that, when she is very happy and comfortable, she purrs like a cat, only with a noble and more sonorous purring. 1 Of course, she and Sir John Ellesmere became good friends on the first day i It may stem trivial, my mention of this animal, but I think that the ways of a household are never understood unless one knows all about their domestic animals, their cats and dogs, and babies, as Sir John Ellesmere would say. And we are all so fond of animals in our house. My master dotes upon them, and so do I, and so does Sir John. I often observe, that our conversation at dinner-time, when we are alone, turns a great deal upon Fairy's wonderful sayings and doings. We have a cat named Bijou, a perfect prodigy (of course the world will think that all our pets are prodigies, but so they are). This cat, also entirely white, like Fairy, with eyes of different colours, is chatty, affectionate, and companionable. Sir John says that it is the only pei'fectly happy and wise creature, not being a fish, he has ever known, ready to forget its anxieties and cares, and go to sleep at all times. It does not know what scratching means : it will walk out with you like a dog, and is really more attached to the people it lives with than to the house it lives in. There is no knowing what those animals whom we are pleased to nominate "the lower creation" would become, if they lived with more rational and more humane human beings than those whom they generally have as masters. This is a saying of my master's, not of mine ; but I thoroughly agree with it. 9* they met, and nothing could be prettier to see than the way in which, when she was walking off with him, and was recalled by Mr. Milverton, she would leave Sir John Ellesmere, wagging her tail, looking back occasionally at him, and almost saying at least in very distinct dog language " I should like to go with you of all things, but I must stay with my master ; he always works better when I am at his feet in the study." Mr. Milverton would not humour Sir John Elles- mere in his wish to have the readings always in the library, and to-day he resolved to have it on a lake that is not far from Worth-Ashton. We call it a lake ; but, really, it is only a pond of about thirteen acres. Ellesmere pretended to dislike this arrange- ment, but I suspect approved of it thoroughly. As we were punting up and down the lake, before taking up our abode in a new duck-house, which the benevolent proprietor (with whom Mr. Milverton was acquainted) had built for the wild ducks, but which they had not yet inhabited, Ellesmere startled us by the most violent exclamations of surprise, and entreated us to stop. Ellesmere. Don't hurry on in that way, I see a buried lake city. We will change the venue from Switzerland to Hampshire ; and here is the city. How clear the water is ! I declare I see at the bottom a dead cat, an old spade, and a decaying basket. Here are quite enough remains to indicate a lake city. What would not Milverton deduce from a dead cat, a spade, arid a basket ? Intercourse with Persia, abundant iron foundries, and the textile arts carried out to perfection. If osier twigs can be woven into baskets, why not silk, or cotton, or linen thread, into their respective fabrics ? I do believe there is a bit of rag attached to the basket, and, if so, what a field of civilization lies before his imaginative mind ! Sir Arthur. What a beautiful thing even this small lake 92 camaj. [CHAP. is ! Look at the exquisite roundings off of all corners of the land. Then the water weeds, the water insects, the lazy, happy fish -- Ellesmere. The water-rats too those engaging little crea- tures ! How Fairy would like to get at them ! For my part, I should like to be a fish. Fishes seem to have so little bother with their relations and their families. Now what a life Fairy led us, as long as she had that pup of hers ! She was always bringing it in her mouth, and introducing it, saying as plainly as possible, " My son, sir," " My eldest son," " Quite a genius : " and, in fact, she introduced it so early into good society, and so overwhelmed the poor little creature with her attentions, that it died prematurely. Johnson. It was a most curious thing to see how, if you asked her, " Where is your pup, Fairy ? " she led the way at once, wagging her tail like a pendulum all the time, to her kennel. Now, how could she know what was the meaning of those words ? EUeswere. Some wit has said, " Good Americans, when they die, go to Paris." I should like to invert the Dar- winian theory, and to say that all good men and women, when they die, have, for a time, the honour of becoming dogs. On second thoughts, the women never : they become cats. But, to return to my ambition to become a fish. You see, fish fathers seem never to have anything analogous to paying college debts for their eldest sons ; but that is not all. Oh, the life Lady Ellesmere led me, after little Johnny was born, about his teeth ! Nine times a day at least did she drag me up to the nursery, to show me the advent of two little teeth. Never before, I was informed, had any child been known at that age to have two teeth. I was obliged to swear that I felt them, otherwise I saw that Lady Ellesmere and the nurse would declare that I was a perfect brute. Now, you know, if you were a fish father, and had about a million of children, the mother could not be lugging you about for ever to feel for the teeth of the little darlings, and compelling you to swear that you felt these interesting molars, whether you did or not ; but I must say that Fairy 93 was quite as tiresome as Lady Ellesmere, and you see the consequence. After punting about till we were tired, we took refuge in the duck-house from the sun, and, having had the precaution to bring camp-stools with us, we were soon very comfortable. This building was there- fore inaugurated in a way which, I should think, no duck-house had ever been before. We had hardly seated ourselves, before the conver- sation was commenced by Sir John Ellesmere. Ellesmere. Let us have a cigar. Mrs. Milverton and Lady Ellesmere are very like ordinary women. Womanity is strong in them. They scold like the rest of their sex ; they delight, in a delicate way, to show forth the weaknesses of their respective husbands ; they can, both of them, pout and look injured ; and they can cry at you. At least Lady Ellesmere can ; but I do not care now a bit about women's tears, since I have ascertained from Faraday 1 a glorious fellow that that tears are merely chloride of sodium, car- bonate of lime, and general folly. I do not know whether I have the chemicals quite right ; but, at any rate, since I have heard of this chemical analysis, I do not care for tears. Lady Ellesmere. I never cried at you but once, John ; and then you know you were most cruel to me. We were travelling abroad, and though I was tired to death, he would not stop at a particular place where I wanted him to stop. He said it would interfere with his arrangements, and that I must go on. I never knew him, before or since, to be so hard-hearted, and I confess to having cried. Ellesmere. Now, my lady, I am not going to be thought a brute by this intelligent company. You know, if you have a weakness in the way of fear, it is being afraid of the cholera ; and I had heard that they had the cholera very badly at the place where you wanted to stop. Lady Ellesmere. Well, really, John, you might have told me that afterwards, and not have allowed me to think you so very unkind. 1 This was said long before Faraday's death. 94 amj, [CHAP. [Here she took his hand, and made a playful bite at it] Ellesmere. You see the form that gratitude takes with women. But where was I ? Oh, that Lady Ellesmere and Mrs. Milverton are not angels in a general way, but ordinary women except in the article of smoking, and there they are regular angels, for both of them pretend to like it. [Ellesmere lit a paper and proffered it for the general cigar-lighting of the company.] You do not know what I offer you in this lighted paper : a possible Ellesmerian fortune. This paper is good enough to inform me, that if I will take any of the numbers from 3,142 to 4,296, all of them lucky numbers, in the Vienna Lottery, I might get a chateau in Styria. I really believe I should take some tickets, for the fun of the thing ; but the awkward part of it would be, if one were to get the prize. I am sure I should not know what to do with a chateau in Styria. I should feel like Winkle in " Pickwick " with a dreadful horse, possessing a property which I was obliged to retain, but could neither make use of, nor govern. Cranmer. You would not really encourage the wickedness of lotteries? Ellesmere. I don't want to quarrel with you, Mr. Cranmer ; and, in fact, it is agreed that we are to be fast friends if, indeed, Mr. Cranmer can be fast in any way. I must, how- ever, deny your main proposition about the wickedness of lotteries. Milverton. So do I. I remember I was once condemning lotteries in the presence of one of the wisest and best informed men of the day ; and, to my astonishment, he put me down effectually, and showed me that I had never considered the subject. But let me take you away from lotteries for a moment, and talk to you about this man, for he always offered to my mind a problem which I have never been able to solve, and which I should like to submit to this worshipful company. We will discuss lotteries aftervvai ds. VT.] smsr, 95 Weil, what I want to lay before you is, how some men know so much as they do about books, and how they retain in their minds such a quantity of information, upon all manner of subjects. I don't speak to you about your Macaulays, Hallams, Carlyles, Grotes, and Milmans, but about men who attain no great eminence in the world, yet who are as full of information upon all human subjects as an egg is of meat. Now, this man we will call him Carrick, for he is such a modest person that he would not like me to tell you his name I assure you one never found him at fault upon any subject of conversation that came uppermost ; and his knowledge was of the most accurate and minute kind. He knew everything that anybody had said about the currency. If you were to talk to him about the telescope, he would trace it from its earliest beginning, and give to every inventor and improver his due share of the great work. Upon all questions of history he was unrivalled. I don't think he cared much about art, but he knew what every great painter had done, and how his works ought to be classified. I remember once having got up some subject in history very carefully, having to write about it. Now, you know what pains one takes with all the details of a subject, when one is getting it up not merely for the sake of study, but to express one's own opinion about it. I happened acciden- tally to talk to this man upon the subject. He had not studied it for twenty years, but there was not a point with which he was not familiar how the King adopted a certain line of policy, while the Prime Minister opposed it How, in the campaign that followed, the general, misled by false intelligence, most injudiciously threw forward his right wing, enabling the enemy to cross a river without resistance, &c. &c. Now, how does any one ever acquire and retain accurately such a vast amount of knowledge ? Sir Arthur. I think I can do something towards explain- ing the phenomenon. Dr. Johnson let us a good deal into the secret of judicious reading. You know that he said he had never read a book through in his life. Of course, he understood the art of consummate skipping. 96 |tealm;tb. [CHAP. Well, then, the physical part of reading is an art in itself. Some men seem to read half a page at a time. And then again, as to memory, we know that some men possess memories such as can hardly be imagined by other men. Consider such a phenomenon as the calculating boy. Ellesmere. I think a great part of the explanation rests in this, that the great readers know how to get at what we lawyers call the charging parts of a Bill in Chancery. I am quite sure that I could, in twenty minutes, get up a case that would take any of you people two hours and a half, because I know where to look for the charging parts. Sir Arthur. That is only another way of putting the explanation I have given. Cranmer. I want to recall you to the subject of lotteries. I should like to hear anybody maintain that they are not very culpable transactions. Milverton. Have you any hope of abolishing that spirit of speculation which is innate in mankind? If it does not break out here, it will break out there. You have horse- racing and roulette-tables. Now lotteries are much better than these, because they take up much less time, do not necessarily bring one into bad company, and require no knowledge of the subject. Sir Arthur. Despair is the worst thing that can befall a human being. The heaviest stone that Fate can throw at a man is when she contrives that he can see no possible outlet from his misfortunes. While we are talking to-day, there are thousands of persons who do not see any way out of their troubles, even with all the aid of the sanguine imagination which has perhaps led them into those troubles. Every letter must bring additional difficulties and additional pressure ; but give them a lottery ticket, and they have something to hope for which fortifies them for their real work. Ellesmere. Poor Martha Broom : she loves the green- grocer's man : he loves her ; but the marriage cannot take place unless she can obtain some money. If she has put i/. IQS. into a lottery with a chance of gaining 2oo/., she sweeps the steps before the house with an air and a grace, resulting from concealed hope. The ticket, in all proba- 97 bility, turns out a blank. On she goes, however, and invests a portion of another quarter's wages in another lottery ticket. " Hope springs eternal in the human breast." She abridges her crinoline no great harm in that and the steps are still swept by a not utterly desponding person. Mauleverer. Nothing can show more clearly the misery of the human race than that such intelligent people as you are should make such a defence for lotteries. Cranmer. What do you say. Sir Arthur ? Do you really mean for you are astatesman to vote with these gentlemen? Sir Arthur. I am afraid I must lose somewhat of your good opinion, Mr. Cranmer. I am rather of Sir John's way of thinking. You see such good incidents for plays and novels may come out of a system of lotteries: it adds another element of romance in the way of sudden changes of fortune. Ellesmere. Mr. Cranmer respects the Stock Exchange and the Liverpool Cotton Market ; but if a poor maid- servant, or a poor ex-Attorney-General, makes her or his little venture, it is an enormous crime. Clear your mind of cant, sir. If Dr. Johnson had said nothing else but that saying, it ought to have immortalized him. By the way, acting upon this principle of clearing our minds of cant, shall we cease to pretend to be interested in the fortunes of Realmah, and take the reading as having been read, and enjoy ourselves upon the lake? Lady Ellesmere. Oh, no ! Ellesmere. Now, if I were a parson going to preach a charity sermon, and had calculated that the sermon would produce, say, on an average, three shillings and sixpence a-piece from every member of the congregation, and I were to say to them, " Make it five shillings, and I won't preach the sermon," don't you suppose the congregation would close at once with this kind and judicious offer? Well, if you will have the reading, let us get it over quickly. Look at Fairy. Consider her feelings at being obliged to keep quiet, and the bank close to us alive with water-rats ! Those are my sentiments, too, my dear Fairy ; however, the sooner a thing is begun, the sooner it is over ; so let us be quiet, Fairy, and listen to our master. H 98 JUalmar. [CHAP. Stars of CHAPTER VII. THE FESTIVAL. THEY were always glad in the town of Abibah to have an excuse for festivity of any kind. Such an oppor- tunity, therefore, as the rescue of the troops from the treacherous Phelatahs was not to be lost; and a solemn festival was ordained. Great games were to be celebrated on the occasion such as throwing the flint hammer, wrestling, running, and a curious game called mocra, which was played with large balls of burnt clay. The whole of the inhabitants were to come in gala dresses. For poor Realmah, this festival could only be an occasion for bringing into full light his deficiencies. He could not wrestle, nor run, nor throw the ham- mer deftly ; and, had he been thoroughly wise, he would have been content to show himself begirt with the skemar which he had won, not by personal prowess, but by his superior thoughtfulness and pene- tration. But who is altogether wise when he is in love ? and Realmah intended to play at the game of mocra, which was a game requiring at least as much force and swiftness as skill. The festival was to be held in a mead close to the border of the shining lake. On great occasions like the present, the cause- ways (which were frail narrow structures) connecting Abibah with the shore, were so encumbered, that the bulk of the people went from the city to the land by means of rafts, which were moored close to some public buildings in that part of the city which was farthest removed from the land. vi.j amar. 99 Those of my hearers who have ever seen a drawing of the great city of Mexico, as it existed when dis- covered by the Spaniards, may form a good notion ot the city of Abibah, if they will only diminish in their minds the causeways, and make them approach the city from that side only which was nearest to the shore the city being, indeed, not farther removed from the land than the spot where the deep water (on which depth the Sheviri placed their safety) com- menced. These causeways were merely wooden foot- paths placed on piles, and rising up gradually from the dry land till they approached the drawbridges. Of course, when an enemy threatened to invade the city, these wooden pathways were destroyed, the drawbridges were pulled up, and the town then became an island fortress. It was a beautiful day, and all the population of Abibah, except the sick, came forth to view the games. The victors in these games were to be crowned with wreaths of roses ; and four of the principal maidens, amongst whom was Talora, were to distribute the prizes. This would be a great day for Athlah. Talora appeared radiant with beauty. Realmah's two wives were also present. The Varnah, as was befitting, was one of those charged with the distribu- tion of the provisions. The obscure Ainah wandered amongst the crowd, with but one object chiefly in her mind, namely, to speak, if she could, a few words in favour of Realmah to the beautiful Talora. In all societies, from the most savage to the most civilized, there are heroic deeds which, as they are performed in the most quiet manner, do not count at all as heroism. It would be difficult to estimate what mental suffering it cost the Ainah to praise her hus- band to the woman whom she knew was the only one he loved ; but into whose character she saw with H 2 TOO cama. [CHAP. all the sharpness of a woman's and a rival's instinct, and knew that it was shallow and valueless. The great chiefs, placed on a raised bank, sat with almost immovable gravity, surveying the popu- lace, and expressing with faint gestures of applause (for this faintness of approval was a sign of high breeding amongst the Sheviri, as it has been before and since amongst many people) their recognition of any feat of skill or valour that was accomplished. Many times did Athlah have the good fortune to approach Talora as a victor in some game, and to receive from her the meed of praise and the garland that were due to his success. Realmah, as Athlah sneeringly observed, was of more service to his opponents than to his own side, in the game of mocra ; and, certainly, was among the least distin- guished players in the field. The Ainah had crept up close to Talora, who, no- ticing Realmah's miserable failures, turned to the girl and said, " Your Realmah had better not have made himself absurd by attempting to partake in the games of men." The Ainah grew pale with anger, and her first thought was to reply, " The Great Spirit does not give all gifts to one man ; and, where He has given wisdom, may well deny swiftness :" but she thought that this would be too fine a speech for her, a slave, and might betray the depth of interest she felt in her master. She therefore simply replied : " Our dividers of bread are wise men, and do not give the blue sliemar for nothing. Should we have any games at all if it had not been for Realmah's fore- sight ? " Talora looked fixedly at the Ainah, and said, " You are proud of him, then ? " " Of course we are," replied the Ainah, " for is there any young man of his age who is allowed to wear the blue shemar?" And then she went into IOT all the details of a seamstress, telling Talora how the Varnah and herself had made this wonderful shemar. Talora looked upon her as a useful house- hold drudge, and nothing more, but still was struck with the spirited reply which the girl had made on her Real man's behalf. The two young women talked together for some time ; and in the course of the conversation the Amah contrived, with a heavy heart, but with a most deter- mined soul, to do her duty, introducing many enco- miums on the various domestic virtues of Realmah. This skilful pleading was not without its effect ; and Talora, making a sign to Realmah to approach her, said, not unkindly, to him, " You should not have contended in. these games ; your worth and force lie in another direction. The fox cannot play with the young lions ; but yet he may be the wisest beast of the forest." And Realmah was entirely comforted, for he had expected nothing but scorn from Talora for his manifest and ridiculous failures. CHAPTER VIII. REALMAH'S COURTSHIP. IT certainly seemed to be a great folly on Realmah's part to have engaged in that game of mocra, at which he was sure to cut so sorry a figure. But strangely enough it turned out otherwise. Those who had been beaten at the various games consoled them- selves, and did what they could to lower the con- querors, by talking a great deal about Realmah's merits, and putting him forward as the hero of the day. What a man he would have been, they said, if lie had been a man at all like the rest of them ! One lucky stroke or adroit movement he had been for- [CHAP. tunate enough to make ; and this was magnified into a proof of great possible dexterity. His wives, too, had not been idle on the day of the festival. The Ainah had not only insinuated great praise of Realmah into Talora's ears, but, in her quiet way, had gone about the crowd, especially amongst her own people, the fishermen, scattering homely sayings in her rude language, tending to show what a great man her husband-master was in her estimation. The Varnah, too, amongst the sensible maidens and judicious matrons who were entrusted with giving out the provisions for the day, did not fail to praise Real- mah. She looked upon him as one of her chattels ; and it was never her practice to lower the value of any property that she possessed. Realmah was no fool, she could tell them. Peki-Pekce (a very comprehen- sive term, meaning good store of provisions, comfort, abundance, general well-being) was not unknown in their house, and never would be, she thought. In short, she gave out the idea that she was marvellously well contented with her cousin ; and all the women thought that, if the prudent Varnah was contented, there must indeed be prosperity in Realmah's home. At the end of the day, there was a sort of ova- tion in honour of Realmah, and he was accompanied home by a great crowd, and with loud noise of in- struments of music which would not much have delighted our ears, but which were very pleasing to the Sheviri. All these things produced a great impression upon Talora, for she was one of those who mostly see with other people's eyes, and with whom general report is a kind of gospel not to be questioned. Philip Van Artevelde's severe words about women would have well applied to Talora : 103 " What's fieriest still finds favour in their eyes ; What's noisiest keeps the entrance of their ears. The noise and blaze of arms enchant them most : Wit too, and wisdom, that's admired of all, They can admire the glory, not the thing. An unreflected light did never yet Dazzle the vision feminine." As for Athlah, she had never intended for one moment to listen seriously to his suit. The cunning Talora knew full well that Athlah's wife would be very little better than a slave. Still, however, she hesitated ; still she doubted ; and Realmah paid court to the capricious beauty with very dubious prospects as to the result. One day she was gracious, another day she was cold ; and the poor young man, throughout his courtship, suffered all the tortures that an anxious, unblessed love can give. Talora's conduct might have been different if she had had the guidance of a mother, but no mention is made of a mother, either in the case of the Ainah, or the Varnah, or Talora. From this and from other circumstances, it may be inferred that there was great mortality amongst the women in the lake cities. Whether this was caused by a certain hardness in their mode of life, or by the unwholesomeness of dwelling on the water, which was corrected, in the case of the men, by their occupations on dry land in the daytime, and perhaps also by their drinking freely of a certain intoxicating drink which will be hereafter described : certain it is that the loss amongst the male popula- tion by war was balanced by this peculiar mortality amongst the women. The existence of polygamy is not an argument to the contrary, for it was only allowed in the princely families, and there were perhaps not more than seven persons in Abibah and its dependencies who had more than one wife. Moreover, in any one of these 104 |UaImaIj. [CHAP. princely families, if the Varnah or the Ainah died, she was not replaced. Now, according to the rites and customs of the Sheviri, which were very rigid, it was not thought proper for a young man to ask a maiden the direct question whether she would marry him. That would have been thought highly indecorous ; but the custom was, that he should present her with a flowering plant (having only a single flower to it) in 1 an earthen vase ; and this plant was always put out by the maiden on the flat roof of the porch 1 in front of her father's house, or on some other place fully exposed to the rays of the sun. If she suffered the flower, to wither and die, it signified that she would have nothing whatever to do with her lover's suit. If, on the con- trary, she diligently watered and tended the plant, and kept the flower alive, that was held to be an acceptance of his suit, and a pledge which must be redeemed. After having endured a great many slights, and also having received a good many marks of favour, Realmah found the state of things unendurable. His courage came to his aid, and he resolved to put his suit to the absolute test of offering Talora the flower. It was with trembling hands that, at the close of an interview with her, in which, without saying anything definite, Realmah had striven to make himself as acceptable as he could to the maiden, he presented the plant without a word, and withdrew. It was the custom that, during the days of pro- bation, which were never less than eight, the lover should not make his appearance at the house of his beloved ; but he generally contrived to have the house well watched day and night, by some faithful 1 This porch nad an outer staircase to it; it was a place where the maidens, at evening time, were often to be seen sitting at their work. 105 friend, to see what was done with the flower. There was, as may be imagined, a good deal of coquetry shown by the maidens of Abibah in their modes of dealing with this very significant flower. Some of them paid great attention to it for a day or two, and then let it fade away altogether. Others watered it and cared for it the first day, then allowed it to droop, but finally recovered it by the most diligent care and attention before the end of the eighth day. Others again paid no attention whatever to the flower till it was upon the point of dying, and then bestowed the most loving care on it. There were those, too, who never by any chance went near their flower in the daytime, but in the most stealthy manner contrived at night to tend it and revive it. Talora proceeded in a manner which was a little different from all of these. She did not hesitate to be seen in the broad daylight looking at her flower, taking it up, and admiring it ; but Realmah's foster- brother, who watched for him, could not detect that Talora gave the poor flower any water. Still it seemed to thrive. And this was not to be wondered at, for the cunning Talora, though apparently she only looked at the plant, and took it up, and picked a leaf occasionally, in reality contrived, by squeezing a little wet moss which she secreted in her hand, to give the plant a few drops of water whenever she visited it. At length the eventful eighth day arrived, and with it the apparent confirmation of Realmah's brightest hopes, for the rays of the rising sun brought out in all their beauty the rich colours of a flower which showed no signs of fading, and which was con- spicuous upon the porch that was overlooked by the chamber where reposed the beautiful Talora. The reservoir (they had reservoirs of rain water io6 licalmnh. [CHAP. which was highly prized) near her father's house seemed that morning to be in especial favour with the humble maidens of Abibah, who were the water- carriers. Many a young man, too, found some good reason for visiting that quarter of the city very early on that day ; and, as he sauntered by Talora's dwelling, did not fail to look up at the flower, and smile or sigh. The truth is, there had been intense curiosity and interest throughout Abibah about the fate of this flower ; and there was hardly a maiden in the whole city certainly not in that quarter of it where Talora dwelt who had not told her companions what she should, or what she should not, do if she were Talora. The youths had betted many shells upon the event ; and even the elderly men had talked about it at their councils, for pleasant gossip is not always unwelcome even amidst the discussion of the greatest affairs. The good chief of the South, Talora's father, must have had reason to think highly of his power and sagacity, for it was wonderful how many grave and wise persons sought his counsel, or his aid, that day. The general feeling about this love affair, which had been very much divided (some saying that Talora would be very foolish, and others that she would be very wise, if she suffered the flower to live), became almost unanimous in approbation when there appeared to be a certainty that the flower would live. Still, however, Realmah was far from certain of his happiness till the sun should go down, as he had heard of maidens who, by some cunning deadly liquid, had contrived to wither up the flower in the last few hours. Realmah's anxiety was so intense, that, breaking through the ordinary custom, he took the seat of his watcher, and watched all day long himself. Talora did not come near the flower throughout the 107 day, but it had been so carefully tended by her the preceding seven days that it did not wither, and, when the sun went down, Realmah entered the house, and was received by Talora, half-smiling, half-frowning, as her affianced husband. She was very provoking, and very charming ; but Realmah thought that whatever she said or did was altogether graceful and delightful, not discerning that ways which are often very pretty in a kitten some- times give sure indication of what will not be quite so pleasant when the kitten develops into the cat. On Realmah's return home, his wives, the Varnah and the Ainah, had only to look at his countenance to know how his suit had sped. Deeply did the Varnah meditate whether Talora's dowry would thoroughly compensate for the additional burden of a vain and expensive girl on their household. The Ainah, con- trary to what might be expected, was heartily glad at Realmah's success in love. She felt proud that she had had something to do with it, and she took delight in the prospect of any happiness for Realmah, however that happiness might be attained. Realmah, though he had never pretended to love what may be called his official wives, or had expected much love from them, was yet a little hurt (such is the vanity of man) at their apparent indifference as to the coming of the new wife. He little imagined what was in the Ainah's heart. But men will always fail to understand women from the beginning to the end of the chapter from the days when the sun shone upon many island towns upon the Swiss lakes, to the days when, as now, the waters have recovered their dominion, and the sun shines upon pleasant chalets perched up on the sides of the mountains that overhang those beautiful lakes. The marriage of the wise Realmah with the beautiful Talora was soon afterwards celebrated with much pomp and festivity ; and all the citizens of Abibah, except io8 Ecalmalj. [CHAP. one or two old men who were near relations of Talora, said that Realmah was a most fortunate man happy in love, successful in policy, and likely to rise to the highest dignity in the state. CHAPTER IX. REALMAH IS ACCUSED OF IMPIETY. GREAT felicity in human life is too often but a prelude to great danger ; and Realmah had only been a short time married to Talora when he had to encounter one of the greatest perils of his life a peril, too, which was entirely caused by his success. Hitherto, only Athlah has been mentioned as a rival in love to Realmah. But there was a far more dangerous person named Parejah, who was also a suitor of the beautiful Talora. He had believed himself to be the favoured one ; and was perfectly furious at Realmah's success. Hatred often gives a keen insight into character ; and Parejah inferred, without much apparent reason for his inference, that Realmah was not a very orthodox believer in' the religious creed of his fellow- countrymen. Their religious belief, on the whole, was anything but ignoble. They believed, as has been mentioned before, in one great deity, profoundly reverenced, but never openly worshipped, and hardly even named. His was an awful overruling presence, which gave power to all the lesser deities, who busied themselves with the affairs of men, and with the conduct of the material world. These lesser deities I find were more numerous than I had at first imagined. In addition to those I have mentioned, there were vi.] fLealmajf. 109 Pelah the god of air, Varoona the goddess of water, Salera the goddess of fishes, and Baradaja the god of dry land. Then came Manoiah the god of joy, Karoiah the god of sorrow, and Plastuna the goddess of design and formation, in other words of intelligent work. The sun, moon, and the stars had also a wor- ship of their own addressed to them, not that they were gods, but that they were symbols of the great unnameable Deity. This symbolism, however, was far beyond the conception of the populace, who honestly worshipped the heavenly bodies as distinct deities a practice, which, however repugnant to the notions of the priesthood and the ruling families, was tacitly and somewhat contemptuously acquiesced in by them. When a cornet appeared, it was clearly a signal of displeasure on the part of the highest deity, and somebody was to be sacrificed immediately. Among the lesser deities, none was more feared than Rotondarah. This deity, who was naturally supposed to be rather malignant than otherwise, was conciliated, sometimes by the sacrifice of animals, but more frequently by the so-called voluntary self- inflicted injuries of his worshippers. Large sectarian differences had taken place with regard to the mode of worshipping this deity. The strictest sect wounded the four fingers of the right hand. Others maintained that a thumb should be wounded ; and there was a bitter feud which subdi- vided this sect, as to which of the thumbs it should be. Finally, there was a third party of loose believers who maintained that blood drawn from any part of the body was equally pleasing to Rotondarah. Ter- rible feuds had arisen from these religious differences, which at one time had threatened to dissolve the republic. The result was, that all the great chiefs and the no ama. [CHAP. important official personages ultimately sided with the thumb-wounding party, maintaining it, however, to be a matter of indifference which of the thumbs was wounded, and alternately wounding the right and the left thumb. Thus, holding the balance between the two extremes, they kept the state in peace. Before proceeding with the narrative, it may be well to enumerate the various sects. They were 1. The Right-hand Four-Fingerites. 2. The Right-Thumbites. 3. The Left-Thumbites. 4. The Whole-Bodyites. 5. The great official personages, who drew blood (in very small quantities) alternately from the right and the left thumb. Now Parejah had discovered 1 that, on a solemn festival lately held in honour of Rotonclarah, Realmah, who was a man keenly sensitive to pain, had not drawn blood at all. Parejah knew that this would be a great scandal even to the least strict amongst the worshippers ; and he cited Realmah to appear before the Council of the Four Hundred on a charge of im- piety. Realmah felt that this was one of the critical moments of his life, and that it would go hard with his influence for the future, if he were proved to have dealt, in a trifling manner with these solemn rites. Parejah summoned Realmah's wives as witnesses ; and, in a preliminary inquiry, held before the meeting of the Four Hundred took place, they were subjected to a strict examination. But the wives, however conscious of their husband's dereliction, could not be brought to testify directly against him. "They did not know ;" " They had not observed ;" " Realmah had not spoken on the subject to them :" these, and the like answers, were all that could be obtained from Realmah's wives. 1 Probably from the man who stood next to Realmah at the festival. vi.] 1 1 The Ainah, who under cross-examination appeared particularly stolid, brought out in the most irrelevant way that Realmah, during the day of the festival and the day after, seemed not like himself, but as if con- fused by deep thought or pain. Realmah, though his sensitive ears were sorely wounded by the Ainah's mispronunciation, 1 caught at an idea from the Ainah's testimony, of which he did not fail to make good use. This charge then of impiety, not having been disproved at the preliminary inquiry, had to be heard, as a matter of course, by the Four Hundred. Amongst a people who had very few intellectual amusements, public speaking held a prominent place. It is even possible that there have been greater mas- terpieces of eloquence pronounced in the popular assemblies of those nations which we call savage, than in the senates of the most cultivated and learned people. It was not likely, therefore, that, when a charge of impiety was brought against the nephew of the chief of the East, so good an opportunity would be lost for hearing a great attack and a great defence. The day was fixed for the trial, and Realmah looked forward to it with a feeling of utter dismay, knowing that if he were convicted, though the punishment might not be very severe, all influence amongst his people (that influence which, with his ambitious nature, he ardently desired) might for ever be denied to him. He did not, however, fail to summon to his aid all the powers of argument and all that great subtlety which he possessed. i One word especially shocked Realmah's ears. Selmivianah means confusion of mind, taken rather in a good sense, as bewilderment arising from high thought. The poor Ainah ventured upon this difficult word, which she corrupted into Sdlovee. It is quite possible that Realmah's blindness to his Ainah's merits proceeded from her barbarous use of language, such, and so dangerous, are the prejudices, arising from education, which beset even the most thoughtful men. 112 |leillmalj. [CHAP. CHAPTER X. REALMAH'S APPEARANCE BEFORE THE FOUR HUNDRED. THE office of prosecutor was entrusted to the high priest of the deity who was supposed to be offended, the god of storms. It may easily be imagined with what fervour and with what force of argument he pressed the charge. Upon whom, he asked, of all the gods did their fate and fortunes more depend than upon Roton- darah, the lord of winds, of thunder, and of storms ? They, their families, and their habitations existed only by the sufferance of his mighty will. Was this to be imperilled by the arrogance, or the care- lessness, or the impiety, of one young man ? He did not deny that Realmah had lately been of some service to the state ; but of what "weight was any mere earthly consideration of that kind when weighed against the danger of impiety ? Any appeal to mercy upon such grounds must be looked upon as a temp- tation to be sedulously overcome if they, the judges, were not to implicate themselves in the crime of impiety. They all knew what painful disputes there had been about the modes of worshipping this powerful deity. He wished to heaven that all their nation had adopted that mode of worship which insured most sacrifice to, and therefore most favour from, Roton- darah. But could anybody, even the most careless of wor- shippers, contend that no worship of any kind was to be offered at the altar of a deity who had especially favoured their city and their nation ? The least strict amongst the sects which unhappily divided the worshippers of Rotondarah, should view with most vi.] IJUalmajy. 1 1 3 abhorrence the conduct of Realmah, if it would not have that conduct set down as a natural result of its doctrines, when received by an irreverent and ill-governed mind. As to the facts of the case, they would be uncon- tradicted. In the preliminary inquiry it was shown that the wives of the accused, anxious as they were to screen him, had not been able to produce one single jot of evidence in his favour. Let the Four Hundred think what the accusation was : that, at their greatest festival, in the midst of assembled thousands, this presumptuous young man had dared to make a mockery of his pretended wor- ship ; and that, whether from cowardice, from inso- lence, or from impiety, not one drop of his blood had flowed in honour of that powerful deity, whose altars he (the chief priest) never approached without a feeling of his abject unworthiness to minister upon them. The above is but a faint outline of the speech pro- nounced by the chief priest against Realmah. There was, however, one great error in it, of which the accused did not fail to avail himself. The chief priest had alluded to their divisions of opinion as regarded the worship of Rotondarah ; and Realmah saw in that statement an opening for theological dis- cussion, which would be likely to produce great dis- cord in the assembly, and thus, perhaps, enable him to evade the point in question. He arose and commenced his oration, of which also but a poor outline can be given. Moreover, the modes of eloquence in different nations are so diverse, that if all of the speech were given, much of it that consisted of fables and apologues, which were highly pleasing to that assembly, might appear tedious to modern minds. Realmah began by alluding delicately to the I [CHAP. motives which he believed had induced Parejah to institute the prosecution. He said that he trusted that these motives were not the promptings of private malice and dislike. For a man of Parejah's eminence in the state to be influenced by such motives would be in the highest degree disgraceful ; and the result might be not dissimilar from that which befell Ginkel the fox, whose pious anxiety, not unmixed with motives of self-interest, for his little brother's reli- gious behaviour, ended in the discovery that he, too, was wont to make the eight morning salutations at the wrong time. 1 He then gracefully rebutted the charge of cowardice. It was not for him, he said, in the presence of men, many of whose lives were graced by numerous deeds 1 This was a very happy allusion, thoroughly understood by the audience. "Ginkel the fox" was a well-known character, entering often into the fables of the Sheviri. He was a very cunning fox, but never quite cunning enough for the occasion. The following is pro- bably the fable alluded to. Ginkel and his younger brother, a good pious young fox, go out hunt- ing one morning. The younger brother catches a hen, and prepares to return home with it. Ginkel thinks he should like to have it all for him- self. He is suddenly seized with scruples of conscience for his brother, who had that day omitted to make the eight morning salutations which it was incumbent upon all good foxes to make. In fact, he had not said his prayers before going out to hunt. The good younger brother fears that he must not eat any of the hen, but still continues to carry it home. They then meet a priest-fox, and Ginkel hastens to put the case of conscience to him. The younger brother lays down the hen, and pleads for himself that he was going to make the eight morning salutations after he returned home. " Too late, too late ! my son," says the priest-fox, upon which Ginkel is about to take the hen in his mouth. But the priest-fox asks Ginkel at what time he made the eight salutations ? " Oh," exclaims Ginkel, turning his eyes up to heaven, " long before morning broke, I made my salutations : I never forget." "Too soon, too soon ! my son," says the priest-fox. "The day had not begun ; the hen has not been properly prayed for ; and now can only be eaten by a priest-fox:" saying which he throws the hen over his back, and leaves Ginkel and his little brother very hungry, but much edified 115 of valour done in the service of their country, to allude at length to any action of his, though perhaps it might be allowed him to remark that neither in the advance to, nor the retreat from, Abinamanche 1 had he been conspicuous for cowardice. (There was a murmur of applause throughout the assembly.) As regarded the charge of insolence, could it for a moment be supposed that he, who from his birth had been a helpless cripple, subject to great infirmity, could ever look upon himself as other than the meanest and humblest amongst them ? As to the charge of impiety, he called the gods to witness, and he would appeal to the great Rotondarah himself, whether impiety was not the one thing farthest from his thoughts ? (Here he introduced a curious story, which was not unfamiliar to his audience, of how a poor man, who in distant ages had stood aloof from the sacrifices to Varoona, the goddess of the waters, had been signalized by her as her most devoted worshipper his omission to join in a rite, which after all was but a mere out- ward sign of love and worship, having only arisen from the intensity of his heartfelt adoration.) Even in the expression of earthly affections, Realmah added, it was not always those who made the loudest demonstrations who had the truest and the most devoted hearts. What if he had been communing in rapt enthusiasm with his nymph, his only thought being how, with her aid, he might show himself most grateful to this adorable deity, Rotondarah ? He spoke in the presence of those who had many times been conscious of a similar high ecstasy. This last was a most skilful touch, for it was a matter of pride amongst the Sheviri to appear at times abstracted from all intercourse with their 1 The chief town of the Phelatahs. . I 2 |{calmali* [CHAP. fellow-beings in sublime communion with their nymphs. After a pause, Realmah resumed. " That venerable man, the chief priest/' said he, " whose accusations have fallen so heavily upon my soul, must know better than all other men what this rapt communion is ; and he might be lenient to another man who had committed an error, if error it be, when his soul was absorbed by the highest discourse." The chief priest, he continued, had alluded to the painful divisions in opinion and in conduct which had unhappily beset their nation as to their modes of worshipping Rotondarah. Was it to be wondered at that he, an unlearned young man, humiliated by infirmity from his birth, should hesitate as to what form of worship he should adopt in the presence of Rotondarah ; and, in that embarrassment of thought, lose the happy moment for worshipping at all ? that is, in outward ceremony, for he dared any man to say that he had failed in the truest devotion of the heart. Let them not say that these divisions of opinion were trifling, and that the great Rotondarah was indifferent as to the way in which he was to be wor- shipped. In matters of small import there might be two ways, equally right, of doing a thing ; but not in this. (Here from all parts of the assembly resounded exclamations of assent.) Let them not dare to say, he continued, that the believer, who, for a time, maimed himself by wounding the whole four fingers of the right hand in honour of this divinity, had not some reason for contending that he showed superior piety to the man who coolly drew blood from the thumb of the left hand, which enabled him after his worship to prosecute his ordinary work as if nothing had happened. A tumult of applause arose from the strict sect of v!.l itealnrab. 1 1 7 the Right-hand Four-Fingerites, who were in great force in the assembly. Being for the most part men that had made their way in life, and who loved what is called respectability, they had many seats in the Council of the Four Hundred. Far, too, would it be from him (Realmah) to impute blame to those humble and innocent persons who thought that Rotondarah was not to be worshipped by drawing blood from one part of the body only, but who gave up their whole bodies, it might be to light wounds, but still their whole bodies, in sacrifice to him. Hereupon there were violent acclamations of ap- proval from the least strict of the sects. A personal altercation also arose between one of the strict sect and one of the least strict, the latter having called the former a cream-coloured face (their term for hypocrite), and a fool. When the feud was settled by the officers of the assembly turning out both the disputants, Realmah continued : He had never, he said, been able to appreciate the profound thoughts and subtle arguments which had, doubtless, led those who wounded the thumb to con- clude that their mode of worshipping Rotondarah was the most grateful to that deity. But this he did know, that a sect to which the great Leonvah had belonged the hero who had led their forefathers to a hundred victories must have a great deal to say for itself. (The name of "Leonvah!" "Leonvah!" was shouted forth with enthusiasm by the Thumbites, quite overpowering some sneering remarks that were made by certain arid theologians of the opposing sects, who said, that a man might hit a hard blow with a heavy hand, and yet be very ignorant of the most important questions in theology.) Realmah resumed : Least of all would it be for him to presume to blame the sect from which he sprung, and which con- tained in its ranks those who held the chief offices of state. In their high sense of duty to their country they had doubtless sought to mediate between the two parties, and had adopted a middle course, seeking to please Rotondarah more by their devotion to the nation, which was under his special protection, than even by outward devotion to Rotondarah himself Perhaps in their hearts, too, many of them longed to join the one side or the other of the disputants, whom they stood aloof from only to break and still the op- posing waves of popular opinion which had threatened to submerge the state. Here the grave official men nodded approval ; while, from various parts of the hall, cries of " time- servers," and "world-servers," and "shell- worshippers," resounded. The assembly was now in a fearful state of fer- ment. Sharp theological discussions were being car- ried on in different quarters of the hall Loud appeals were made to the manes of departed heroes who had held strong opinions on one side, or the other, of the controversy. The four great chiefs, who had sat apart in the principal seats of honour, situated north, south, east, and west in the hall, approached one another in the centre, and consulted as to whether they should then and there dissolve the assembly. At this moment, vehement shouting was heard outside the hall Several men fully armed burst in. A curious and cool observer (had there been one in that large assemblage) might have noticed that these men were either personal followers of Realmah, or belonged to the tribe of the fishermen. "The enemy are near," they shouted, "some of their watch-fires may be seen on the mountain. To the 119 drawbridges !" and they rushed out, followed at once by the greater part of the assembly. True enough ; there were fires just discernible upon several parts of the mountain. The alarm spread throughout Abibah. The guards were doubled at all the drawbridges ; large bodies of armed men remained all night in the open spaces of the town ; and every precaution was taken to prevent a surprise. In the morning it was found that the enemy had decamped, and no signs were left of them but the smouldering watchfires and some remnants of half- consumed provisions. Strange to say, when the town was restored to quiet and order, there was no further prosecution on the charge of impiety against Realmah. Some few zealots sounded the chief priest as to when there should be a further hearing of the case ; but the shrewd old man remarked that his nymph had been very gracious in her whisperings to him lately, and that there would be no lucky day in this year, he thought, on which the prosecution could be wisely recommenced. Besides, he added, the young man is either a deep knave or a profound enthusiast ; and it might, perhaps, be better to wait for a year to see in which direction his character will develop itself. He might prove their fastest friend : he might become their most dangerous enemy. There were parts of the lad's doctrine which were very sound. Roton- darah, heaven bless his clemency, had waited many years for fitting worship from most men. Perhaps he would deign to wait another year for some suitable reverence from Realmah. The zealots, who also were not without their crafti- ness, bowed assent to the words of the chief priest ; and Realmah remained unmolested, and not unfeared. This trial, however, exercised a great influence on his fortunes, for he felt that, on the first opportunity, 1 20 HUalmafr. [CHAP. he must signalize himself by some great deed of valour or of wisdom, for a man who was accused of impiety had need to be very strong in the affections of his countrymen, in order to efface all memory of the charge from their timid and superstitious minds. Is it possible that the enemy were never upon the mountain that night ? and was it for nothing that the Ainah went from house to house of her tribe, remain- ing a long time with her brothers, who were the loudest to shout when the armed men broke in upon the assembly on the day of Realmah's trial ? If so, Realmah himself did not know it, or was too subtle to know it officially, though he did remark to the Ainah, "how watchful her tribe must be, for they were the first people who seemed to have discerned those fires." The plain girl merely answered that her poor people were, of necessity, great watchers ; and after saying this, she hastened to withdraw with a profound obeisance, but a dry smile might have been observed playing upon those lips of hers not far from being beautiful. Cranmer. I wish to make a remark. Ellesmere. Silence, silence, for half an hour. Mr. Cran- mer wishes to make a remark. Cranmer. This is too bad, Sir John. I am sure that for every word I utter in this good company, you utter one hundred and seventy-six. Why should I occupy half an hour with a single remark? Ellesmere. The calculation is exact Have I not heard you say in the House, " I should wish to address a very few remarks to the House upon this subject," and has not your speech generally lasted for one hour and a half? Now, I take a " very few " to mean three : one remark of yours, therefore, if I do the sum rightly, will occupy half an hour. Cranmer. Well, we shall see. I was going to say that one great merit of Milverton's mode of telling us this story is, that he never breaks off abruptly and leaves us in v,.] Wiafc. a .v/ 121 pense. If he brings his hero into trouble, he brings him out again, in the same portion of the narrative. Now, I daresay you will all despise me, and think that I am a dull, prosaic being ; but I must own that I do not care much for fiction. It does not amuse me. Laugh as much as you like, but I prefer a blue book to any novel. My daughters, however, make up for my want of imagina- tiveness, and they devour novels. You know these serial things : they are always reading them. Sometimes they rush up to me, and exclaim, " Oh, papa, how I wish it was the beginning of next month ! " Now you know when one comes to a certain age, one is not so anxious for it to be the beginning of next month, when it is only the second or third of this month. But young people think that they have such a large balance in the Bank of Life, that they car afford to draw upon it in the rashest manner. Ellesmere. I declare that is a very pretty financial simile Cranmer. Thank you, Sir John ; you are very encouraging. I have not exhausted my half hour yet, and so I will proceed, Well, I venture to suggest to these dear daughters of mine that I am not so anxious for this rapid passing away of time, to which they reply, " But oh, papa, he is in such difficulty ; he must be killed. There is nobody near to save him." This " he " is some fellow in a novel. Ellesmere. My dear Cranmer, I will restore peace and concord to your household. Teach your daughters the true doctrine of Indispensables. Cranmer. What do you mean, Sir John, by Indispen- sables ? Ellesmere. Why, don't you know? They are the fellows who, if you get rid of them at one part of the story, must re-appear in another. Now, Cranmer, you are to be a villain in a novel. I assure you it is a very creditable part to assign to you. I always like the villains best. They are the only business- like people in the concern. I will be the Indispensable. Now try and get rid of me if you can. You stab me to the heart, and leave me on the ground. I assure you it is of no use. An Indispensable's heart is quite differently placed from that of any other man. The i^2 JvealmHg. [CHAP. desperate wound you gave me was in fact the best surgical treatment that could be devised for a slight internal com- plaint which I labour under ; and you will find me as lively as ever in the third volume, and ready to unmask your wicked designs. Or it is a dark, gusty night. We two are walking the deck alone. You politely edge me over the side of the vessel, and go to sleep in your hammock, feeling that you have done a good stroke of business. What do I do ? The ship is only going nineteen knots an hour. I therefore easily swim to her, and secrete myself in the stays, or the main chains, or the shrouds, or the dead lights, or some of those mysterious places in a ship, which Sir Arthur knows all about. There I stick like a barnacle, and you carry me into port with you. I can tell you that when you are just about to make a most advantageous marriage, I shall put my head in at the church-door, and say " Ha ! " with a loud voice, and the whole affair will be broken off. Or you poison me. Bless your heart, poison has no more effect upon my Mithridatic constitution than ginger-beer probably not so much. You bury me. No : you don't. You don't bury me, but some intrusive fellow who has thrust himself in, to take my place ; for an Indispensable has always about him obliging persons who do that kind of work for him. Or you hurl me down from a cliff, 300 feet high, and go away thinking you have now really got rid of me for good and all. But, Mr. Villain, you are much mistaken. I, as an Indispensable, inevitably fall upon a sea-anemone, rather a large one, three feet square and two feet thick, very common, however, in that part of the coast. [Much laughter from all of us.] The poor anemone is somewhat injured, and I am a little shaken ; but I shall appear again at the right time, with my fatal " Ha ! " and upset your marriage. By the way, there is one thing which has never been tried upon the Indispensable. Take him to the House of Com- mons, Cranmer, and make him attend, for three rights following, from half-past six to nine. 123 The mixture of irritability and comatoseness which might thus be produced, would bring on what doctors call, at least Dr. Ellesmere does, an apoplectic paralysis. And then you see, Cranmer, if you did not quite kill him, you could reduce him to idiotcy, which would be nearly as good for your purpose, and enable you to carry on your villany undisturbed. Oh, how I wish that good people in real life were as difficult to kill as Indispensables in fiction ! Sir Arthur. I am not so sure that I agree with Cranmer. I rather like to be kept in an agony of suspense, and I cannot praise Milverton for being so considerate to our feelings. Ellesmere. Quite true. Praise is nearly always wrong. However, I am not going to indulge much in it. I see that Milverton makes this rogue Realmah, a perfect politician. Now, is that natural? Sir Arthur. Well, why not ? Do you suppose that all policy is confined to civilized people ? Ellesmere. No; but Realmah, I contend, is an official man of the nineteenth century. Mauleverer. Then, indeed, he is a rogue. Ellesmere (who laughed heartily). It is a comfort to find that one always has Mr. Mauleverer to back one up in any attack upon any class or portion of the human race. But to return to the story. I must say I rather like the Ainah ; and Milverton has had the courage to make her not too beautiful. Milverton. I have never been able to do the Ainah justice. You know that, for the most part, when one endeavours to describe a man or a woman, either in history or in a novel, one is obliged to make it seem like the description of a runaway slave. Who can portray the delicate lights and shadows, the smiles and dimples, which go to make a beautiful, or, at the least, a most expressive, countenance ? By the way, you must not suppose, when I have spoken of the Ainah's hands as being rather large and plebeian, that they had not a beauty of their own ; and oh, what an expressive thing the hand is ! Sir Arthur. Very true. The other day I was sitting [CHAP. near one of the greatest men in England (perhaps it was in the House of Commons, but I shall not tell you where exactly), and he was suffering from suppressed anger, and was being bullied from all directions. The man maintained his part admirably : he was calm and equable in reply : when he sat down, he put on an air of repose ; he kept himself still, he governed his eyes, he governed that organ difficult to govern, the mouth ; but his hands quivered with the emotion he felt, and the veins stood out upon them in stern relief. He little imagined he betrayed to me by those hands all that he felt. Milverton. I have always noticed that great men, with- out a single exception, have great hands. I do not mean large hands, but expressive hands hands that indicate greatness. The late Lord Melbourne almost talked with his hands, and so I must say of the Ainah. She had not a small hand : she had not hands with tapering fingers, which we admire so much in women ; but she had expressive hands, which possess a beauty of their own. Ellesmere. I do declare, Milverton is in love with the Ainah ; and, as Mrs. Milverton has such very pretty hands, according to the usual type, I wonder she is not jealous. Lady Ellesmere. Don't make mischief, sir. You can do very little good in your generation, and you might there- fore avoid doing harm. Ellesmere. There we have again a truly conjugal remark. No great conqueror, who is a married man, has any occasion, when he is taking his triumph, to have a slave with him in his chariot, to remind him that he is mortal. His dear wife and children who, by the way, are anything but slaves will be sure to give him sufficient discouragement (of course for his good), and to convince him that he is any- thing but a divinity. I cannot comment much upon this story of Realmah. I am thoroughly puzzled by it. There are many pretty points about the story : the courtship is amusing ; the prosecution for impiety is not without its slyness ; and it is evident that Milverton has thrown his whole force into the depicting and drawing out of the Ainah. But what puzzles me is, that 1 cannot see the general drift and purpose of the story. Now, vi] I know the man to be full of purpose, and that he is sure to have some scheme in his head, some wonderful theory which he wishes to impress upon us all, and upon which we are to begin to act to-morrow morning ; but I cannot discern what it is. Here my master and I interchanged smiles (the reader will forgive me for associating myself with the work). We know very well what we are aiming at, and were pleased to find that so acute a man as Sir John had not found us out too soon. Sir Arthur. I admire the story very much, and think that great things are yet to come out of it. Ellesmere. Oh yes, we all know that. That is the regu- lar kind of thing for one author to say to another. It is the fashion of the day for .all members of the same profes- sion to speak most respectfully of each other. Sir Robert, my successor, does so of me ; 1 do so of him : what we really think of each other's knowledge of law is best known to ourselves. The same with the medical profession. Dr. B. is called in to assist Dr. A. What does he say? Nothing could have been more skilful than Dr. A.'s treatment hitherto of the case. He should now, he thinks, begin to throw in a little assafcetida, say i drachm, and hydrarg. 3 oz., instead of opii tinct. 9 scruples, that is, if this slight change in the prescription meets with Dr. A.'s entire approval. As for authors, they are generally in ecstasies (honest ecstasies !) when talking to one another of each other's per- formances. Have I not seen a number of serpents in a cage as civil to each other as possible, upreared upon the penultimate parts of their tails, and bowing affably to one another, in process of time to become quite fond and fondling? I think nothing of Sir Arthur's praise of Realmah. Milverton. I think it is one of the pleasantest things of our time to see - Ellesmere. Don't go into it seriously. I only meant an eighth part of what I said, but you are all so mattex-of-fact and so stupid. [CHAP. But what I say about " Realmah " I really mean. The author is a man unwholesomely full of purpose. He would not care to write the most interesting story in the world, not the " Vicar of Wakefield " or " La Petite Fadette," which I think the prettiest story I ever read, except he had some distinct purpose in writing it. It must prove something, or illustrate something; but what that something is in the pre- sent case, I cannot for the life of me make out. By the way, I must make another remark, and that is, that I do not see anything so very clever in the little stories and fables which your lake-men, Milverton, are so fond of. I could invent fables by the dozen. Sir Arthur. Could you, Sir John? Perhaps you would favour us with one of the dozen this morning ? Ellesmere. With pleasure, in a minute or two : just give me time to think. Hereupon he walked about for a few minutes. As he got up to walk, I saw him look at Fairy, and was sure the fable would be about a dog. He resumed his place, and began his fable. A man and his dog were walking along a straight road, chatting pleasantly together. The road was straight, because it was in the good old times of the Romans ; and the two companions understood each other well because in those days the dogs talked dog Latin. k< Yes," said the man. " you certainly are a very clever creature. You make good use of your nose, and your eyes, and your ears. What a pity it is you have not hands like we have ! " " Oh," said the dog, " you don't know, then, that we once had hands like yours, and how fortunate we were to get rid of them ? You see even now in the streets that there are some of us who, attended by Helvetii playing musical in- struments, walk upright, and gain many denarii. " But this is how we came to lose our hands. Diana, much pleased with our skill in hunting, resolved to ask great Jupiter to confer some signal boon upon us. We consulted V! |lealmajf . 1 2 7 together as to what our kind mistress should ask for us. Some said that men should not be allowed to pick the bones quite so clean before they tossed them to us ; others that hares and rabbits should not be so fleet ; and others that we should not be called by such mean and foolish names as men are wont to give us. But one prudent old dog said, 4 Jove is wiser than we are ; let us ask him to take away from us whatever we have now which is most dangerous for us to have.' " Our prayer was heard, for suddenly our hands became paws, and henceforward we went upon four legs. " Many of my brother dogs grumbled at this change, and howled to Jupiter that he was mocking us ; but Jove re- plied, ' My good friends, I have done the best I could for you ; you might hereafter make as bad a use of your hands as men are making of theirs, and thus in time become as dishonest and wicked as they are.' We acknowledged the wisdom of Jupiter ; and so the monkey was left to be, in form as in nature, the creature most resembling man." The poor Roman could not make any reply, and the dog trotted on by his side, wagging his tail approvingly at his own wit. Lady Ellesmere. Where is the moral, John ? Crannier. Yes ; where is the moral ? Ellesmere. Moral ! Why, my good people, the fable is as full of moral as a pigeon-pie at an inn is of tough beef- steak. Moral Number One : People are proudest of what they should be most ashamed of ; i.e. man of his hands, which he makes such bad use of. Moral Number Two : Attend, Lady Ellesmere. It is always better to get rid of a plague or an evil, than to acquire a new good. Moral Number Three : Attend, Fairy. Dogs are better and much honester crea- tures than men. Sir Arthur. The fable is clever enough, and has plenty of moral in it indeed too much but it lacks simplicity. Who would ever think of quoting it, to illustrate anything ? Milverton. Let me now try my hand at a fable. 128 |UaJma|f. [CHAP. The sun was setting ; the moon was rising ; and one solitary traveller was plodding his weary way across the Libyan desert. " Madam, my sister," said the sun, " how is it that men are so much more grateful to you than to me ? All day long have I warmed that poor traveller, and guided him on his way, yet not a kind word did I receive from him ; whereas, no sooner do you make your pale appearance above the horizon, than he breaks out into a song of gratitude, cele- brating your goodness and your loveliness." " Sir, my brother," replied the moon, " your benefits are too manifest, and you take care that all you do for men shall be seen in broad daylight. " What little I can do for them, how I keep their oceans sweet, is known but to few of them. " Men try to be sufficiently grateful to you, but they love me, not only for my gentleness and my loveliness, but also for my great reserve." The great god of day did not deign to make any reply, but went down red and angry into the western waters. Sir Arthur. This is much better, still there is the same fault, it lacks simplicity ; and the moral, namely, that to insure gratitude you should conceal your benefits as much as possible from the eyes of others, is a modern idea, not belonging to the age when fables were best written. Milverton. I will try another. I will not be beaten. The Pacha rested by the fountain, the flowing waters of which made an oasis in the desert. His horse and his camel cropped with delight the green herbage near the fountain. Their shadows lay strongly and darkly upon the grass. " How beautiful," said the horse, " is that dark form which moves as I move ; what grace, what symmetry it shows ! I can hardly eat for looking at it." .** It is well enough," said the camel, "but look at this one which moves with me. It has all the symmetry and the grace of the other; and then, too, it has that pretty little hump on its back." A dervish passing by, who knew the language of all beasts, exclaimed, " How good is Allah, who gives to every 129 creature its due share of vanity, so that defects seem to their owner especial beauties and merits ! " Sir Arthur. That is a hundred times better ; but, at the risk of appearing captious, I must still say that there is an air of subtlety about it which does not quite befit a good honest fable. However, I will admit that in time, my dear Milverton, you might perhaps write a fable. Ellesmere. Well, at any rate, he can write a history, for I suppose we must not call " Realmah " a story ; and in- deed, for my part, I believe it to be as true as almost any history I ever read. There is one more observation I have to make about it, which has just occurred to me. It is a personal one, and it is that Fairy [here the dog looked up sharply] Don't look at her : she does not like to be looked at, or talked about ; and it would be more delicate if I were to put in French what I am going to say, for she does not understand as much of that language as she does of English. So put yourselves into a Gallic state of mind, and listen to me. Je trouve que Madame 1'Ainah et Madame le Fe'e se res- semblent beaucoup. Madame la Fee (I hope she is not looking at me, is she ?) avec son peau (is it " son peau " or " sa peau ? " I always forget those confounded French genders ; oh, " sa peau ! " thanks) avec sa peau blanche, ses yeux rouges, et sa levre inferieure un peu developpee, est d'une beaute ex- treme, pas si seMuisante, comme re'ellement rare et re- marquable. Madame 1'Ainah, avec ses petits yeux enfonces dans sa tete (comme nous a dit M. 1'Auteur), ses cheveux presque rouges, et ses mains et ses pieds tres larges et prononce's, mais, en meme temps, tres expressifs est aussi d'une beaute' extreme, mais aussi pas si se'duisante, comme bien rare, et bien remarquable. Elles jouissent, toutes les deux, d'une sensibilite tres- douce, d'une intelligence tres-exquise, et d'un je ne sais quoi, qui laisse beaucoup a 1'imagination. Hereupon Fairy set up a dismal howl, and then began to bark furiously. It was a most ludicrous K [CHAP. scene. Sir John had turned away from the dog, and had been addressing his British French, spoken very loudly, very slowly, and with pauses between the words, apparently to some distant person. Fairy evidently thought that something was the matter, either that Sir John was taken ill,, or that there was some enemy in the distance, and that it was her duty to come to the rescue, or to rush into the fray. We all laughed immoderately, while Fairy con- tinued to bark furiously, and thus the conversation was broken up, for all seriousness was gone from us during the rest of the afternoon, and until we had returned to Worth-Ashton. CHAPTER VII. "ANOTHER hopelessly wet day, I declare !" This was the exclamation of Sir John Ellesmere as he stood at the window, having risen from the break- fast table before any of us. Then (aside, but quite audibly), " We shall be sure to have a long reading to-day. Would it not look pretty if I were to ask for it ? (Aloud.) I trust, Milverton, you will cheer us up to-day by giving us a good long spell of ' Real- mah.' I like it more and more ; for I perceive that the great author of that work has been considerably influenced by a much greater and wiser man. I need hardly say that I allude to myself. I have always complained that in all stories and novels love occu- pies too large a part. We have happily got rid of that foolish business in this story." Johnson. Do not be quite so sure of that, Sir John. Ellesmere. Oh, Sandy, Sandy ! It is your fault, then ? You exercise a malign influence over your master, I can see. I really did think that Realmah, having got his wonderfully beautiful, but very disagreeable Talora, his work-a-day Varnah (I like that young woman best, and wish that a certain "party" with whom I am distantly connected bore more resemblance to her), and his subtle Cinderella (with a large glass slipper, though), the Ainah, would n cm- be contented. Lady Ellesmere. It is a great comfort to me that John does not sometimes take the place of Mr. Johnson, although it might relieve me from much of his company, for he 'would refuse to take down all the nice sentimental bits we women like so much. Ellesmere. Now, look here : suppose we were to have K 2 I3 2 camuj, [CHAP biography written after the fashion of novels, it would be something of this kind : I will give you the life of a distinguished Jones. It will not take long. Silence ! The Biography commences. As a boy, Jones was much like other boys. He was good at ringtaw, bad at Greek grammar ; and he abominated those truly abominable things called decimal fractions. With that vivacity of expression and that sincerity of feel- ing which in after-life were always conspicuous in him, he one day, when quite a boy, observed to his friend Master Smith, that Homer was "a regular beast," and he wished " the beggar" had never been born. As a youth, he was much like other youths. He was justly proud of his peg-top trowsers ; thought the governor a good fellow, but rather slow; spoke his native language with a laboured incertitude which was the fashion amongst the gilded youth of the period ; and he used the word "awful" on all occasions, informing those who cared to hear that Smith (observe how true he is in his friendships) was awfully jolly, while Robinson was awfully green. At this period of his life, his opinions did not admit of any nice differences of colour. His black was the blackest of blacks ; his white the whitest of whites ; and he always thought, and generally said, a. fellow was a fool who did not see things exactly as he saw them. That nice appre- ciation of character which had enabled him to describe so tersely and so faithfully the nature of old Homer, was extended now to sundry other personages, and embraced Aristotle, Tacitus, John Mill, Sir William Hamilton, Paley, and Colenso. It is but justice to Jones to conjecture that he had already perceived a want of orthodoxy in that last- named personage, although his depreciatory remarks upon that divine chiefly applied to him as an author of certain arithmetical and algebraical works. When Jones arrived at the age of twenty-three, he was seized with a fever, not uncommon at that age, called the Febris amantium. Then come a hundred and seventy-three pages in which there is nothing but a minute description of the symptoms 133 and progress of the disease. We are spared none of the details. The only thing that in the least degree relieves this painfully medical description is that another person, in the next street, of the other sex, is smitten at the same time with the disease, and the symptoms of the patients are frequently contrasted. At last they both get over the disease by means of a potent medicine found very efficacious in such complaints, and called marriage. Then come a few sentences like the following : He was a great lawyer, and therefore naturally indeed I may say inevitably a great, good, and humane man. His study of the law, the greatest of all studies, had opened his mind for the reception of all arts, sciences, and literatures, including poetry, political economy, metaphysics, theology, and the science of book-keeping by double-entry. That the human race has advanced to its present pitch of comfort and civilization, to which no one but Mr. Mauleverer can do full justice ; that our streets are rendered beautiful by lovely works of art in the shape of statues, fountains, and columns ; that smoke is banished from our towns ; and that war, according to Mr. Milverton, is a thing unknown amongst the European family of nations are benefits greatly owing to the labours of this incomparable man. End of the Bio- graphy. Now a dull prosaic person such as I am would like to hear a few details about the manner in which the incom- parable Jones accomplished these great objects. But Lady Ellesmere maintains that the fever was the only interesting thing in his life, and would not have a page omitted from that part of the biography. Cranmer. I suppose, Sir John, that as Realmah's love affairs are over, or nearly over, he is now to become an in ventor ; and you have shown such a sympathy for inventors that you will delight in that. Ellesmere. I never said, Mr. Cranmer, that the lives of inventors were uninteresting. The more mischievous the man, the more interesting in general is his life. Witness that of any great conqueror. It is not easy, let me tell you, to catch me in an inconsistency. 134 canmf. [CHAP. Sir Arthur. I did not meddle much the other day in your talk about modern inventors, and modern inventions, but I had a good deal to say about telegraphic communica- tion. Only I am half afraid to say it, for anything seems dull after the sparkling fun with which Sir John always enlivens our conversations. Cranmer. I really should be glad to hear you upon this point, Sir Arthur. Ellesmere. Cranmer means to say that anything is a relief from Sir John Ellesmere's nonsense. But proceed, Sir Arthur, to instruct us. Conversations should be instructive. See Pinnock, Mrs. Barbauld, and Mangnall, who doubtless confirm this maxim. Sir Arthur. There are four drawbacks at present on telegraphic communication. i. A telegram is often in- accurate, and you are in the greatest state of doubt and bewilderment as to the exact meaning of the thing to whH\ you are very likely asked to give an immediate answer. 2. This mode of communication throws a great additional burthen upon those who most require rest, as being the chief directors of the world's affairs. Now they can never feel that their work is done for the day. Telegrams pursue them to their homes, and rout them out of their beds. 3. (And this is most important.) It dwarfs the powers and diminishes the energies of distant agents, who, feeling that they can always throw the responsibility and the difficulty upon the Head Centre (to borrow an expression from the Fenians), cease to think or act for themselves; and yet often they are the persons who, from intimate knowledge of the circumstances, could act more wisely than the Head Centre. 4. (This fourth I did not learn from my own experience, but from a man who receives more important telegrams than almost any other person in England.) That having heard the main result by telegram, the despatches and reports when they come to hand are comparatively unin- teresting. "You think you have heard it all before," he said, " or at least you do not know what your knowledge really is about the matter ; or at any rate you are confused with partial knowledge. The result is that you do not take vii. J IJUalmalj. 135 things up in their right order, and that details have not their proper interest for you." Ellesmere. All this is admirable. What good sense my poor foolish sayings do sometimes elicit ! Cranmer. Sir Arthur's words are weighty. I may be permitted, however, to remark, that all his objections rest upon the abuse and not the use of telegraphic conir munication. Ellesmere. If I dared to be so singular as to do so, how often I should protest against that play upon the words " use " and " abuse ! " Moreover, it seemed to me that a great deal of what Sir Arthur said applied most closely to the use, and not to the abuse. But, there, we shall never agree upon this subject of telegrams. Let us pass to other great inventions, and their inventors. I will engage to name an inventor in whose favour not one of you, not even Cranmer, can say anything. By the way, I did not know that official men, like our friend Cranmer, were so fond of inventors, and so much inclined to take their part. When I was Attorney-General I used to see a good many inventors, and the ungrateful dogs did not burst out into raptures of praise, either of the Admiralty, the War Office, or the Treasury. But to return to this particular inventor. I have read private Commination Services over him not using the strong word " cursed," but merely saying unblessed. Milverton. Who can this unfortunate man be ? Mauleverer. He will not be found to be much worse than the others. I dislike all of them. The fact is, the more you elevate and beautify human life in one direction, the more you render striking the sordidness of it in other directions, and so magnify the painful contrast. Ellesmere. That is cheering, certainly. I am glad to have brother Mauleverer on my side. But I am not prepared to say ditto to everything that he says. Sir Arthur. I should say, or at least I should say that Sir John Ellesmere would say, that it was the man who invented superlatives. Milverton. Ellesmere is a very mischievous person. I have observed that when anybody has been much in his 1 36 |ltalmafy. [CHAP. spciety, and they want to say a severe thing, they are very apt to put it as a quotation from him. That puts me in mind of an anecdote which I must tell you, for it is a very droll one. There was a great musician who had a dreadful habit of swearing. But he was very much ashamed of this habit, and so, to excuse himself, always put it as a quotation from the manager of the theatre, who at that time was Mr. Bunn. The great musician would exclaim, " I'll be d d (as Mr. Bunn would say) if I will be led by that fellow;" or " D n the thing (as Mr. Bunn would say), there's not a single good note of music in it." I never heard that Mr. Bunn was in the least given to swearing, but the great musician thought that if he quoted his manager, whom he considered the greatest personage in the world, it would keep him harmless from the conse- quences of this evil habit of swearing. In like manner, people father their severe sayings upon Ellesmere. You remember that some man said (I think it was a judge), " David said in his haste, I say deliberately, All men are liars." Had Ellesmere lived in that judge's time, the sentence would have run thus : " David said in his haste ; I say, with brother Ellesmere, deliberately, All men are liars." Ellesmere. Commend me to an intimate friend he must be very intimate for saying the bitterest things in the softest manner about one. But I'll pay it all off some fine day upon Realm ah. Mrs. Milverton. But we have never heard who is this inventor so odious to Sir John, for whom we are not to be able to say a good word. [I believe that Mrs. Milverton, who never thoroughly understands Sir John, thought that he was really angry with her husband, and so strove to change the conversation.] Ellesmere. I will not keep you longer in suspense. I say then " deliberately," Unblessed be the man who invented starch. [Great laughter.] vii.] gjKlmag. 137 Has he not been an unbounded nuisance to mankind ? What shirts, what collars, what torturing neckcloths he has made the human race endure ! It will be ninety years before we get rid of his detestable invention. Everything about the human body should be loose, flowing, soft, and curvable ; and this wretch has made us to some extent, and our poor forefathers entirely, like hogs in armour. I often picture to myself the kind of man he was. I am sure he was an official man, Mr. Cranmer, who had vexed a department for thirty years, and then, retiring into private life, spent his remaining years in considering how he could best curb, and oppress, and stiffen up the whole human race. His life would be interesting, Mr. Cranmer, especially during the inventing period, when he narrowly escaped strangulation from his newly-invented neckcloth, which he first tried on upon himself. But you must admit that he was a villain of the deepest dye. Milverton. I have nothing to say for him. Sir Arthur. Nor I. Mr. Mauleverer. I have. These minor miseries are very useful in diverting men's minds from the contemplation of their great afflictions. Ellesmere. For my part, I prefer contemplating my great afflictions without having to wear a collar that is both stiff and jagged such a one as Lady Ellesmere sets for me when we have quarrelled. I assure you that this collar does not make me think less of her. Lady Ellesmere. Will anybody say anything sensible, and prevent John from going on, and talking his non- sense ? Sir Arthur. I rush to the rescue like a gallant knight. I want to say something about the Varnah in " Realmah," who is Ellesmere's favourite. It is very characteristic of such a woman that she should be always wishing " poor Realmah " to be like other people, and that she should be always thinking what people will say. Ellesmere. Now we really will be serious. I have always maintained, Sir Arthur, that " what people will say " is the one great tyrant, and that the united tyrannies of kings, priests, newspapers, and kaisers, sink into insignificance when compared with Mrs. Grundy's. Sir Arthur. Mrs. Grundy is an ill-used woman. Long before her time people were ruled by the thought of what other people would say. I have been always very much struck by the fact that some great baron, ages ago, put up, as a motto, upon some place he built, I suppose his castle, 1 " They have said : let them say." Milverton. This certainly goes to show that the tyranny, that this good baron stood up against, is not of recent origin. I suppose it existed in all ages, till we get back to the early days of Paradise, when Adam and Eve had no neigh- bours to comment upon them. Ellesmere. Perhaps you are mistaken about that, Mil- verton. In those early and innocent days there might have been much more communion between man and the lower animals than there is now ; and perhaps our first parents said to one another, " What will the jackals say?" or "This will be unpleasantly remarked upon by the spotted snakes ;" or coming home, after a long sweet ramble, to their bower, and seeing a good many toads about (taking care, however, not to hurt them), one spouse would observe to the other, "We will come home earlier to-morrow, dear ; I know that the toads comment severely upon our always being out so late of an evening." Lady Ellesmere. (To Mrs. Milverton.) He is becoming irreverent as well as silly. I think we will leave the gentlemen, dear. And so the breakfast party broke up. 1 It was one of the Lords Marischal. " On Marischal College, Aberdeen, which the Earl founded in 1593, and endowed with a portion of the doomed spoil, the inscription in large letters remained on the building till 1 836, when these were taken down to make room for the present structure : ' They say ? Quhat say thay ? Thay half sayd? Lat thame say.' :J Buchan, by the Rev. John B. Pratt. l8$3. viz.] eamar, 139 When we met again to hear the reading, Ellesmere descanted upon what he was pleased to call the delu- sion that besets men of poetic minds, when they are considering the past, and comparing anything done in it with any similar thing done at the present time. Sir Arthur and Milverton might talk to him for ever about the wonderful speeches in the "Araucana." He did not believe there was one of them to be com- pared to any great charge to a jury by Chief Justice Cockburn. In fact, he believed he had made better speeches himself than any savage that was ever born. But perhaps I had better let him speak for himself Ellcsjnere. Now I believe that when Realmah made his speech you were all called into council. At any rate there were four of you Milverton, Sandy, Mrs. Milverton, and my wife. I know it was so, because Lady Ellesmere was very mysterious and kept me out of the study, though she went in herself; and in the distance I heard a pompous noise of rolling, rumbling sentences. There were four of you, then, besides Realmah, and two or three attendant nymphs. Notwithstanding this agglome- ration of sagacity, you contrived to make a most egregious blunder. In the first part of the speech Realmah treated external observance as if it were most unimportant : the devotion of the heart was everything. In the second part of the speech, external observance was of the utmost importance. There were not two right ways of doing a thing, &c. &c. Mrs. Milverton. I do believe that Sir John is jealous of Realmah's powers of speaking. Sir Arthur. As to an inconsistency of this kind, I think nothing of it. Show me any great modern speech, and the chances are that I will point out a similar inconsistency. In good public speaking the audience make half of the speech. The orator discerns what pleases them, and, to influence them, dwells upon that topic which he sees takes their fancy, and gains their applause, even if it militates somewhat against what he has said before. 14 *atKaf, [CHAP. Mauleverer. Very true ! I want to return, however, to the point from which Sir John started, when he spoke of the delusion manifested by imaginative men in over-praising the past. There is nothing so foolish as the praise of men, except it be their censure ; and the man who thinks that the past has been better than the present, is, if possible, a greater fool than he who expects that the future will be better than the present. The life of man is, I tell you, one dead level of stupidity and error. There may be slight inequalities at different periods of the world's history ; but these need no more be taken into account than the trifling inequalities in the earth's surface, which, when compared with its main bulk, are abso- lutely inappreciable. Ellesmere. Let us have the reading immediately. A stop must be put to Mauleverer's dreary sayings. I believe he is hired by Milverton to reduce us to the proper state ot depression for listening submissively to his story. Besides I foresee that Realmahwill fall into great trouble. That meddling sort of prematurely wise young fellow always does fall into trouble ; and then we shall not be too much agitated by his misfortunes, Mauleverer having convinced us that a dead level of misfortune is the normal condition ot mankind. There are no cheerful rapid rivers, bright up- springing fountains, merry cascades, resounding waterfalls, pellucid lakes, breezy, boisterous, jovial seas : but it is all one dull, turbid, changeless, level line of canal waters that we behold, and upon which we travel, towed by horses lean as Death, angry-eyed as Passion, and conducted by Fate as a bargeman, whence we know not, and whither we know not, except that the whither and the whence are alike abodes of misery and gloom. I believe, though, there are some good dinners to be had on the road. Milverton. Do you know, Ellesmere, that was rather a fine sentence that last but one of yours ? Ellesmere. Thank you, patron. I rather think it was : I meant it to be. I am not the rose, but I have lived near the rose, at any rate near the sweetbriar and the dog rose. I cannot write much myself, but I have my own poor ideas of what writing should be. I have even a scheme of what a sentence should be like I do not mean an ordinary sen- tence, but one which is to convey some considerable mean- ing, and to do some work. I am not sure that even my good friends, Sir Arthur and Mr. Milverton, always fulfil my ideal ; but then, we romantic men form such high ideals. Sir Arthur. Pray lay down the lines for us, Ellesmere. We will endeavour henceforth to build our poor vessels in accordance with them. Pray tell us what a weighty sentence should be. Ellesmere. It should' be powerful in its substantives, choice and discreet in its adjectives, nicely correct in its verbs : not a word that could be added, nor one which the most fastidious would venture to suppress : in order lucid, in sequence logical, in method perspicuous ; and yet with a pleasant and inviting intricacy which disappears as you advance in the sentence: the language, throughout, not quaint, not obsolete, not common, and not new : its several clauses justly proportioned and carefully balanced, so that it moves like a well-disciplined army organized for con- quest : the rhythm, not that of music, but of a higher and more fantastic melodiousness, submitting to no rule, in- capable of being taught : the substance and the form alike disclosing a happy union of the soul- of the author to the subject of his thought, having, therefore, individuality with- out personal predominance : and withal, there must be a sense of felicity about it, declaring it to be the product of a happy moment, so that you feel that it will not happen again to that man who writes the sentence, or to any other of the sons of men, to say the like thing so choicely, tersely, mellifluously, and completely. We all looked at one another amazed, for Sir John is not wont to talk to us in this way. It was pretty to see Lady Ellesmere. She got up and leaned over Sir John's chair, and looked at us with a look of pleasant defiance, as much as to say, " You see that my husband, when he chooses, can talk better sense, as well as better nonsense, than any of you." He continued :- [CHAP. Ellesmere. You may now, Milverton, proceed in your reading, and I trust that there may be a sentence here and there to which I may conscientiously give my approval. Milverton. I have no such hope. To make such kil- lingly complete sentences is far beyond my power. [The reading then commenced.] 0f CHAPTER XL THE SHEVIRI TAKE THE FIELD AGAINST THE PHELATAHS REALMAH IS MADE PRISONER. IT was not to be expected that the Sheviri would tamely submit to the base and insulting treatment they had experienced from the Phelatahs. They im- mediately prepared a warlike expedition to go and attack Abinamanche, the chief town of the Phelatahs. In this expedition Realrru>.h had an honourable place. The campaign was long and varied, and was not crowned with any great success on either side. It is to be remarked, as very fortunate for these southern people, that the northern tribes did not invade them at this juncture ; and that the approach of the northern people, which had been firmly believed in by the Phelatahs when they sent their ambassador to Abibah, was not so imminent as they had sup- posed. Throughout the campaign Realmah displayed great skill and bravery ; too much bravery, however, for one whose physical powers were so weak. In an obscure skirmish that took place nearly at the end of the campaign, Realmah was separated from his followers, and was captured by the Phelatahs. 143 The Sheviri had to return to their city, and to carry home the unwelcome news to the Chief of the East that his nephew was a prisoner in the hands of the enemy. Great efforts were made to ransom Realmah, or to obtain his release by an exchange of prisoners ; but these efforts were unavailing. The Phelatahs were well aware what an important person Realmah was, both as a man of counsel and as a mafi of action, and they revengefully remembered how he had thwarted them in their great scheme of treachery which was the occasion of the war. For month after month the captive languished in a prison in Abinamanche. The populace clamoured for his death ; and the chiefs of the Phelatahs were obliged so far to give way to the wishes of their people as to promise that on a certain day during the festival of the New Moon, the prisoner should be sacrificed in honour of that deity. Realmah, who had become a great favourite with those who guarded him, and with some of those who visited him (of one of whom more will be said here- after), soon perceived, by the increase of their kind- ness towards him, that his end was approaching. He felt it bitterly. It seemed hard to him that one who like himself was devoted chiefly to great ends should perish thus immaturely, and without having given any convincing proof of the worth that he felt was in him. There are few things more touching than to see one who has played a great part no longer able to play it but still going on playing it. To witness, for instance, the efforts of a great singer who remains too long upon the stage, and who has all the graceful ways and manners which accompanied and evolved his past successes ; but now they are unproductive, and the result rather resembles a pantomime. The audience, having tender recollections of the man's [CHAP. past greatness, endeavours affectionately to fill up gaps, and to consider as done, and even well done, that which is but vaguely intimated ; and there is an applause, genuine in its way, but which is only the result of loving memories. Still the great actor on the stage of life, or on the mimic stage, has played his part, and the remem- brance of past triumphs soothes and supports the man ; renders, both to himself and to those who hear him, the failure less conspicuous ; and fills up, both for him and for them, what is now, alas ! but a sadly incomplete representation. But to die early with a sense of power, unused power, and to have executed nothing ; this was the burden upon Realmah's soul during the long days he remained in his prison. Metastasio makes his Themistocles, when in exile, grandly exclaim, " Future ages will envy me, perhaps, more for my misfortunes than for my triumphs." 1 But then there must have been triumphs to make the misfortunes effective and memorable. The world does not interest itself much in the career of a man who is uniformly unfortunate. Now Realmah, in the depressed state in which his imprisonment had left him, did not even give himself credit for the sagacity which had originally baffled the designs of the Phelatahs. So far as regards his thoughts about the past : with regard to the future, it was not an over-proud thought in him to think that his life, if spared, would have been a useful one, and that his premature death would be a loss to his country. Of private friends he had but few, for his was a reserved nature, and being very different from most of the young men of his nation, greatly inferior to them in personal prowess, greatly i " Invidieranno Forse 1' eta future, Piii che i trionfi miei, le mie sventure " VIL] eain H5 superior to them in power of thought, he had never had much companionship with any of them. He .nought, as was natural, of those who would mourn especially for him. There was the good old chief, his uncle, who would miss the prop to his greatness that Realmah was becoming. There was his aged nurse, who, he felt, would die of grief when she should hear the sad tidings of his death. There was his foster- brother, who understood him little, but loved him much. There were his wives, Talora, the Varnah, and the Ainah. He felt that they, too, would mourn for him ; but not for very long ; and he calmly made up his mind to die, and began to look with some little interest to the life beyond the grave. The greatest of sentimental writers has brought before us the miseries of imprisonment by represent- ing vividly the wretchedness of one single prisoner ; but it is to be recollected that there have been periods of the world when the numbers of imprisoned indi- viduals would have amounted to a large army, each of the private soldiers in this army of sufferers being sodden with misery, languishing with little hope, and expecting by way of change, torture or death. CHAPTER XII. THE PERILS OF A SPY. IT was a lovely day in autumn, one of those days when it seems happiness enough to be alive, and when a prisoner, however resolved and courageous his nature, might feel a great unwillingness to die. But, strange to say, it is precisely on these days that it is found that men are most ready to die ; for the notion that suicide is more common in bad L [CHAP. weather than in good, has long been exploded by facts which tell quite a different tale. Perhaps it is, that on these beautiful days the higher powers seem to be more beneficent, and the wretch overladen with misery thinks that he can trust more to their mercy, and that he may find on his exit from this life " An ampler ether, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams ; Climes which the sun, who sheds the brightest day Earth knows, is all unworthy to survey." The building in which Realmah was a prisoner was laised some seven feet from the ground before the first floor commenced, and this slight elevation enabled him to look down on an open street that led to the water, and to see the men and women passing over the causeways, going to their work in the plain and the woods near the lake. It did not, however, enable him to perceive a timid. slouching figure of a wayworn, haggard-looking young woman, who hovered near these groups of working- people, apparently engaged in collecting faggots. Realmah looked long at the beautiful scene, with the blue water, the blue sky, the bright plains near the lake, the distant brown woods, and the quaint buildings which seemed somehow to harmonize with the scene ; but these things did not console him ; he might have said with a modern poet " I see them all so beautifully fair, I see, not feel, how beautiful they are. " The buildings at Abinamanche, as at Abibah, were chiefly low, but there towered above them, in the most fantastic forms, vanes and weathercocks of every description. It was natural that people who paid so much attention to the four quarters the east, west, north, and south should delight in vii.] ^uaimag. 147 weathercocks. These fantastic ornaments, reflected in the waters, added a certain beautiful grotesqueness to the picture. It was, however, something comic that most arrested Realmah's attention. Perched upon three rocks, at about equal distances from each other, were three cranes, each resting on one leg. Whether there is something peculiarly comic in these solemn-looking birds, or whether Realmah happened to think of a proverb much in vogue amongst his countrymen " The crane pretends to listen to his nymph, but all the while is looking sharply after his fish," I do not know, but a smile came over his countenance, which afterwards relapsed into melancholy, as he drew back from the aperture, and sat down upon the ground. Meanwhile, and indeed all day long, the slouch- ing figure of that young woman, before described, remained within sight, but beyond the ken, of the parties of labourers who were at work in the cou-ntry near Abinamanche. She was observing how the women of the lower orders amongst the Phelatahs were dressed, and endeavouring to arrange her dress so as to resemble theirs, in order that she might pass in their company unnoticed into the town, when the shades of evening should come on. At length the day's labour was over, and the men and women began to troop over the causeways into the town. Now this travel-worn stranger went with them. She succeeded in passing unnoticed over the drawbridge, where the crowd was dense, but a different fate befell her when she got into the open streets. The truth is, this poor stranger had made a great mistake in the arrangement of her dress. The maidens amongst the Phelatahs were distinguished from the matrons, and the matrons from the maidens, L 2 148 fiCidmdj. [CHAP. by slight distinctions in dress. She first copied the head-dress of one group, who happened to be all maidens, and then copied the way in which another group, who happened to be all matrons, wore their upper tunic ; so that, in the eyes of a Phelatah, she made a most ridiculous and incongruous appearance, dressing herself both as a matron and a maiden. She had not gone far along the main street, which led from the drawbridge into the centre of the town (and which was called the Street of Primroses), before a boy spied out this strangely-dressed person, and shouted, "The little girl-wife ! The little girl-wife !" There was soon a mob of boys and girls following her. This attracted the notice of the elder people, who were greatly scandalized at her appearance. The crowd now thickened about her : questions were asked who she was, and whether she was mad. She implored to be allowed to go away ; and her speech at once betrayed that she was not a Phelatah. They instantly concluded that she was a spy. The guards at the drawbridge were summoned, and by them she was carried off to the house of the eldest chieftain. He thought that this woman's presence foreboded the approach of an enemy, and lost no time in calling together the council of the chiefs. It was soon conjectured by them that her coming had something to do with Realmah ; and it was resolved to confront the two, and to see if they could be surprised into any signs of recognition. Realmah was accordingly sent for. He thought that his death was now imminent, and summoned up all his courage to meet his approaching doom. When he was brought before the council, not a word was said to him. Gestures of high politeness passed between him and the great chiefs of the Phelatahs, but there was dead silence in the council- room. VH.J J^awrap, 149 Suddenly the captive was brought in between two guards, and all eyes were directed towards Realmah. Now Realmah was a man of great craft and subtlety. Perhaps the only drawback to his greatness was, that he was so crafty and so subtle, for it is not the part of a great man to be crafty and subtle. But on this day it did him " yeoman's service." There was, it is true, a slight movement of the muscles near his mouth, but it was concealed by his beard, for these so-called savages, wiser than many civilized people, did not shave ; and the two prisoners regarded each other apparently with stolid indifference. The captive was Realmah's Ainah. Realmah, of course, had not failed at once to recog- nise the Ainah, worn though she was by toil and anxiety ; but he felt that any recognition would be fatal to both of them. " Who is this woman ? " said the oldest chief of the Phelatahs to Realmah ; and Realmah, without hesitation, replied, " She must be one of my people. Perhaps she brings offers for my ransom, though methinks " (and here he assumed an appearance of haughtiness) " my people might have sent some one of more dignity than this poor woman to nego- tiate the ransom of one of their chiefs. But speak to her ; her words will soon show from whence she comes." This was a most artful reply on the part of Real- mah. He comprehended the situation at once, or at least what he did comprehend was sufficiently near to the true state of the case to make his reply most judicious. He imagined that some effort for his rescue was about to be made by his fellow-countrymen, and that the good-natured Ainah (he had always recog- nised her good nature) had consented to come before- hand, and prepare him for any emergency. He had 150 jcamajr. [CHAP. not attempted to conceal the fact of her being one of his countrywomen, because he felt that was sure to be discovered the moment that she spoke ; and a wise man always makes up his mind to what is inevitable, and appears to welcome it. The old chief then cross-questioned the Ainah. She was one of those people who have a great capa- city for darkening their meaning by many confused words, and she told how she had come to seek for her husband, a common soldier amongst the Sheviri, who had been wounded, they told her, not killed ; and what her mother-in-law had said to her, and what she had said to her mother-in-law ; and what good people the Phelatahs were ; and what a sad affair it was for her being without her husband ; and that there was no fish in the house ; and that the boys and girls in this town had been very rude to her but boys and girls were a torment everywhere. Then she said that she wondered, for her part, that near neighbours could not be friends ; but it was all the men's fault. They went out to fight, in order to amuse themselves, and to get away from their wives, and to throw all the burthen of the housework upon poor women. Here the chiefs could not help laughing, upon which the Ainah appeared to become more angry than ever, and dilated at large, in uncouth language, upon the various misdeeds and general misbehaviour of the male sex. She declared that, for her part (quite changing her story), she had come to look for her poor man, not that he was of any use to anybody, but per- haps he would be starved if he were left to himself; and so she supposed it was her duty to come, but she did not expect to be treated in this way. In fact, to use a modern phrase, she gave them all " a bit of her mind." Finally she succeeded in producing the impression on most of the chiefs that she was a shrewish little 151 woman, who had been accustomed to scold her hus- band, and felt now the want of somebody to scold. Realmah wondered at the ingenuity of the Ainah. Once, for a moment, their eyes met, whilst she was in the midst of her scolding harangue, and the incipient laugh that there was in the eyes of both of them might have betrayed them if some of the chiefs at that moment had not been remarking to each other jestingly that if this was a specimen of the female sex in Abibah, it was no wonder that the Sheviri fought pretty well, for anything would be better than going home to such a woman. Still there were some amongst the chiefs who were not entirely convinced of the truth of this story. Their prudent counsel prevailing, it was eventually ordered that the Ainah should be conveyed to prison ; and hints were thrown out to her of torture to be administered next day, if it was found that she had not told the whole truth to the Great Council. Realmah was conducted back to his prison ; and after a short interval, the Ainah was taken to hei place of durance, which was a room in the same building. So far the Ainah's enterprise, whatever it was, had not proved very successful. CHAPTER XIII. THE ESCAPE FROM PRISON. AT night Realmah was always bound ; but the guards who had charge of the Ainah did not care to bind this helpless-looking, insignificant young woman. Realmah's thoughts that night were very bitter. 152 amgr* [CHAP. The poets say that "a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things ; " but there is no sorrow for a generous mind that eats into the heart so closely as thinking that you have brought evil upon others, and that they are to suffer for your sake. Realmah feared that it would go ill with the Ainah the next day. He knew that there was one man in that council who was perfectly aware of the relation between them. To that man he had given one im- ploring look while she was telling her story ; but he could "not discern whether that look was answered favourably or not. Upon that man much of the fate of the south of Europe at that time depended ; but it is not now a fitting occasion to enter upon that sub- ject. Moreover, Realmah conjectured that there were in Abinamanche some common soldiers of the Sheviri, who, like himself, had been taken prisoners. The probability was that they knew the Ainah very well ; and, in fine, he felt certain that it would be discovered who she was. Realmah, suffering greater misery than he had hitherto endured, remained for some hours sleepless in his bonds. Notwithstanding all this misery, there was, occasionally, a strange feeling of pleasure in his mind connected with the Ainah. He was continually thinking with admiration of her cleverness, and pitying her to himself for her wan looks. He thought, too, there was some affection as well as archness in the glance with which the Ainah favoured him when she was descanting upon the good-for-nothing husband she had come to look after. Suddenly he fancied he heard a soft voice whispering his name. Soon he was assured that it was not fancy, and that the Ainah was close to him on the other side of the wooden division that separated his prison chamber from the next one. How she got there, and what was the nature of her enterprise are now to be told. 153 During the many months that Realmah had re- mained in prison, there was one faithful heart in Abibah which never ceased to think of the peril of her Realmah. Through the long nights the Ainah meditated as to what could be done to rescue him. She did not dare to interfere as long as there was any hope from the public negotiations on his behalf. When these failed, she made up her mind to attempt his rescue herself. She did not speak of her deter- mination to any one. What she greatly relied upon to aid her in her enterprise was a wine-skin which she took with her, containing the choicest and most intoxicating liquor known to the Sheviri. This was prepared from honey and from various herbs, amongst which was the vo roo, a powerful opiate. The Ainah also took with her some strips of dried deer's flesh, and a very sharp instrument made of quartz, which was the pride and delight of the Varnah, and which she had brought with her as part of her marriage dowry. This the Ainah now abstracted furtively. She set off one morning before daybreak ; and, when missed, no one took much heed of her departure but the Varnah, who mourned over the loss of a good helpmate, and, moreover, regretted the theft, as she was pleased to call it, of the sharp instrument of quartz, \vhich was the most perfect one of that kind known in the town of Abibah. Meanwhile, the Ainah, as we have seen, made her way without much difficulty to the outskirts of the town of Abinamanche, subsisting chiefly on berries, for she hoarded up the strips of deer's flesh for a great occasion. Now Abinamanche was built very much in the same form as Abibah a fact which was well known to the Sheviri. The Ainah, therefore, thought that she could readily make her way to the principal build- ings, which were placed in similar positions to fhose 154 amaf, [CHAP. in her own town. Her plan was to approach the prison by night; to allow herself to be despoiled of her wine-skin by Realmah's warders ; to watch for its effect upon them ; and then to attempt, by means of the quartz instrument, to cut a way from the out- side into Realmah's prison. She conjectured, and rightly, that this building would be constructed of wood, and therefore not very strong, for both the Sheviri and the Phelatahs relied more upon guards than upon prison walls, which reliance, with their knowledge of building materials, was certainly pru- dent. There were guards posted day and night about the prison of Realmah. We have seen how the Ainah got into the town, and by w r hat mistake on her part she had been recognised. Her original plan had therefore been defeated ; but a favourable chance and her cun- ning and her ready wit had, in reality, brought her closer to Realmah than she could have hoped to have been brought if her original plan of escaping notice had been successful. As the Ainah, after her examination by the Council, was being taken to prison by the soldiers, four in number, who were to watch at her prison room for the night, and to be answerable for her appearance next day, she contrived to show that she was secret- ing something, and thus to awaken curiosity. Afterwards, when she was in her prison room, suspecting that they were watching her through some aperture, she, in a furtive manner, appeared to drink something from the wine-skin, which con- tained the powerful liquid before mentioned. Soon one of the soldiers entered the room, and, rudely jesting with her, partly by intreaty, and partly by force, compelled her to give up the wine-skin to him. She threatened to scream for assistance to her fellow-countryman in the next apartment. This was 155 a mere guess of hers, thrown out to gain some know- ledge of the spot were Realmah was confined. And it succeeded, for the soldier told her that she might scream, as the young cripple was two rooms off ; and if he were to hear he could do nothing. " The next room is empty, so scream away, my pretty young maiden," said the soldier, ironically and tauntingly. And so saying, he left her. The guards who watched the Ainah did not partake their prize with the guards who watched Realmah, and who were stationed at the other end of the build- ing. The potent liquor, divided among so few, soon had its effect : they were first merry, then noisy and quarrelsome, then silent The Ainah, who had carefully watched for these signs, then commenced her operations. In two hours' time, working very softly with the sharp quartz instrument, she had made an aperture suffi- ciently large for her to crawl through into the next chamber. It was then that she whispered Realmah's name, and told him what means she had with her for escape. She had meant to make a small opening, which would be soon cut, and to pass the quartz instrument through it, enabling him to do the rest of the work quickly. To her dismay she learnt from him that he was bound, and that she would have to do the work herself, not knowing where the weak points of the woodwork were. Three long hours were passed in an agony of fear by both of them before she succeeded in cutting her way into his room, for it was the strong room of the prison, in which the greatest offenders were always confined. His bonds were soon severed, and the prisoners commenced to make their escape, passing through the vacant apart- ment into the room in which the Ainah had first been placed. It was now two hours past midnight, and there was 156 |3UaIimi{r. [CHAP still an exit to be made from this room. They boldly resolved to try the door, and they cut out that part where the simple latch that fastened it on the outside was placed. This did not take more than half an hour. They then opened the door gently, descended the steps, passed the sleeping guard ; and Realmah, though still in the midst of a hostile city, felt that he was once more a free man, and he could have shouted for joy at his deliverance. He was not, however, the kind of man to indulge in shouting before he was thoroughly out of danger. CHAPTER XIV. THE FLIGHT. SILENTLY the fugitives glided through the deserted streets, and made their way to the drawbridges. They had not a hope of finding these bridges let down, or unguarded ; and were prepared to swim across to shore. By a fortunate accident, however, that night there was a drawbridge, to the south-east of the town, which had not been raised, and the two warders belonging to it were fast asleep. Using the utmost care, the fugitives passed noiselessly over the causeway, and gained the shore. Now the town of Abibah lay to the east of Abinamanche. Realmah had often thought what he would do if, by any lucky chance, he should make his escape. There was a long strip of open ground on the shore. Over this they hurried along, proceeding westwards ; Realmah, to the astonishment of his companion, treading heavily so as to insure the marks of his sandals being seen in the ground. When they had proceeded half a mile in this way, they diverged into a wood which lay vii.] gUalmafr. *57 towards the south, and through this wood they went, but still in a westerly direction. The moon was very bright, and Realmah was able to thread his way without much difficulty. He ascended, with great labour (for from his infirmity he was not agile), a lofty tree, the foliage of which was thickly interlaced with other trees. From this tree he passed to another, and from that other to a third, and then, taking off his sandals, descended with the utmost caution. Care- fully choosing the hardest ground when he came near to the spot where he had left the Ainah, he bade her reioin him, telling her to take care to step as lightly as possible. When she had done so, they changed the direction of their flight, and proceeded swiftly for about three miles to the east, so that the town of Abinamanche now lay to the west of them. There they halted again. Not a word had been spoken by either except the words of command that were neces- sary for Realmah to direct his Ainah. The fugitives lay down upon the ground. It was an embarrassing moment for Realmah. He would have liked to have burst into an effusion of thanks and even tenderness towards his preserver ; but the relations between them had hitherto been so cold that he hardly knew how to begin. At last he uttered a few words of praise to her for her skill. She recounted the various steps that she had taken to effect his escape : he told her of his sufferings in prison. Afterwards, she related to him the news of Abibah, and all that had happened at home during his absence. The subtle Realmah contrived by artful questions to detect, to some extent, from the Ainah, who, however, had no intention of enlightening him, how much his loss had been felt by the Varnah and by Talora. The truth was, that the Varnah had really missed him, having grown accustomed to look after [CHAP. him and to care for him ; and that Talora had been very cross at . his absence, had blamed him exceed- ingly for his folly in allowing himself to be captured, and had greatly deplored her own forlorn situation. Realmah and the Ainah talked on in the douce, quiet way that two youths who had been concerned in some great enterprise, and were still in great peril, would have talked. At length the Ainah, who was oppressed by fatigue and want of food for she had stinted herself in order that they might have some- thing to eat in case they should escape fell asleep. Throughout that night, Realmah sat entranced in thought. There are times when our lives come before us in imagination, not by the recalling or forecasting of individual facts or events, but by their being grouped together as it were in large pictures, land- scapes of the mind, as they might be called ; and Realmah now saw his past life, and his probable future life, laid out before him in a strange weird way, the brightness of a morning sun illumining the pictures of the past, the rich hues of a setting sun gilding, and yet softening, the colours of the grander scenes of the future. As was natural, having just escaped a great peril, in his picture of the future, perils fell into beautiful forms, and it was a picture of success he painted, in which he was to accomplish his high ends and noble purposes. And then, with a certain feeling of pro- found melancholy, there fell upon him a sense of the futility of it all ; and the great questions Why are we here ? What does it all mean ? What does it all tend to ? came upon him with a force and a pathos far greater than they would upon modern minds ; for he had no reason to think that the burthen of such thoughts was partaken by any human being. Still he resolved to do the work that lay before him, whatever might come of it, or of him. vii.] amar. 159 When the morning broke, his thoughts v/ere diverted into other channels, as he contemplated the sleeping Amah. I have said that what little beauty she possessed lay in expression rather than in features ; and for the first time Realmah perceived this beauty. Even the fatigue and anxiety she had gone through had im- proved her looks, creating a refinement in her coun- tenance which had not always in former days been perceptible in it. Gradually it dawned upon him how it was that neither the Varnah nor Talora had sought to do what the Ainah had done, and he knew, for the first time, what love should be, and who was really lovable. Eventually the bold idea came into his mind that he would kiss the sleeping girl ; but he felt ashamed to do so, for he thought within himself, " There is the girl I have treated as a slave, and upon whom I have never bestowed one thought of real affection ; and now, because she has saved my life, I begin to discern that she is beautiful and loving, perhaps the only woman, besides my dear old foster-nurse, who does love me in the world." At that moment the Ainah awoke. She timidly took his hand, and kissed it. Emboldened by this mark of affection, he embraced her warmly, and poured his thanks into her ears. She looked at him with astonishment, murmured something about her duty, and, as if divining his thoughts, said, that she had not entrusted the others with her enterprise, because she felt that they could not aid her. She knew that her low condition and common appearance would enable her to enter the town of Abinamanche with less observation than that which the Varnah or Talora would have had to encounter. She was sure they would have flown to rescue him, had it been possible for them to do so. 160 CHAP. Realmah now found himself placed in a most em- barrassing position. There is hardly any man who has attained middle life who has not socially speaking found himself in some very strange position. He has, for instance, sat next, at some feast, to some person, unknown to him by countenance, but well known to him by repute as one of his greatest opponents and bitterest enemies. Each has, on this occasion, found the other very likable and agreeable, and each has been shocked, amazed, and almost startled out of his prejudices, when by some accident it has been revealed to both of them with whom it was that each had been talking in this most friendly manner. Or, to take another instance, your next neighbour at a dinner pours out to you, in confidence, being rather taken with you, his especial dislike to yourself, and his contempt for your writings, your pictures, or your statues, or your conduct as a politician ; for he, poor man, has no idea that you are yourself, but, having heard that you are in the company, has mis- taken the man opposite for you. But all these positions of awkwardness may almost be said to be pleasant when compared with that in which Realmah now found himself. To have lived in close domestic intimacy with a woman ; never to have pretended even to love her ; to owe his life to a great and perilous effort on her part to rescue him , then to fall in love with her ; and not to know how to begin the love-making, which ought to have begun long ago ; to feel that any love now proffered might seem to be merely gratitude ; surely this is a posi- tion in which few lovers have ever found themselves, and which Realmah had now to encounter. He was a skilful talker, and probably owed much of his popularity to his being able to enter into conversation with any person, of whatever rank, with whom he was vn.j |kiilnw!j. 16 1 thrown in contact. But, on this occasion, he sat by the side of his Ainah, and could not find anything to say, though, in his heart, he was longing to pour out his love for her. To talk of commonplace things would, he felt, be supremely ridiculous. At last, however, like a wise man, he resolved to make the plunge at once, and after a long pause, thus began : " What could make you take all this trouble, and go through such peril, for a foolish, dim-eyed man like me, who never had the sagacity to see what a treasure he possessed in you, or the tenderness to say one really kind or loving word to you ? You are a very silly child. You should have let Realmah die in prison, and then have married some one more worthy of your love." . But the Ainah only replied by clasping his hand in hers, and with downcast looks softly saying, "But what if I was so silly as only to love my lord Real- mah, whom it was presumption in the poor fisher- girl to love at all ?" Then ensued a long pause, which was owing, on Realmah's part, to a most ludicrous circumstance. The truth was he had forgotten her name. He had, of course, heard it on the day she was brought to him, but he had entirely forgotten it. Such titles as the "Ainah" and the "Varnah" were merely words used in the household, and in the presence of other persons, and no lover ever thought of using them when alone with his beloved. Realmah had been struck with this in the few words he had just addressed to the Ainah, and he felt that it would be almost an insult to go on pretending to make love to a young woman whose name he, of all men, should know, but which had entirely faded from his memory. Poor Realmah sat there in silence, cogitating over the names most common amongst his countrywomen, and vainly torturing his memory as to which could be M 162 Ij^almafr. [CHAP. the right one. At length, when the silence was becoming ominous, he resolved as it were to make a clean breast of it, and exclaimed " Here is a miserable wretch of a man who would wish to express all the love he feels for his beloved, and does not even know her name." The Ainah laughed, a low, pleasant laugh, then threw her arms round his neck, and whispered, " Lufra." It was one of the common names which poor Realmah had thought of, and which he natu- rally could not now help wishing that he had been bold enough to try. But perhaps it was better, as he thought with the wisdom of a second thought, that he had concealed nothing from his Lufra, and that he might now begin from the beginning and address her as if she had been some gracious stranger with whom he had become acquainted for the first time that day. He did not fail to play his part well as a lover. He said that others amongst the Sheviri might talk of their nymphs, who watched over their destinies and defended them from all harm ; but henceforth the only nymph he should worship would be his Lufra. She hastened to put her hand upon his lips, for these were sadly irreverent words (Realmah was certainly not orthodox) ; but, though irreverent, the words were singularly pleasing to the girl, and Realmah did not fail to kiss the hand which sought to save him from the anger of his heavenly nymph. The first embarrassment overcome, Realmah was fluent, ardent, and eloquent ; and much time passed away, during which the lovers spoke of all their love for each other. He confided to her his great schemes and hopes for the nation, and found her a worthy recipient of his high thoughts. Gradually he gained from her the knowledge of how his courtesy to a poor girl like her had won her timid love, and a hundred times vr,.] JUalmajf. 163 he offered to her his fond excuses for having been indifferent to, indeed unconscious of, her love. They both felt that their love must for ever remain some- what concealed, because it would not be thought right for a man of his dignity and high rank to be in love with his Ainah. She then produced from her wallet a strip of dried deer's flesh, all of which she would have insisted upon his eating, but that he was peremptory and commanded her to share it with him. Having finished their hasty meal they proceeded on their way to Abibah, strangely joyful fugitives, indeed almost reckless ones, for in their great love they had forgotten their imminent dangers. Real- man, however, always made the Ainah precede him by a step or two, for he feared a surprise from the rear, CHAPTER XV. THE FINAL DANGER. THE scene which the fugitives were now approaching was one of the grandest in that part of the world. There was a huge amphitheatre of level land, inclosed by mountains. Conspicuous amongst these mountains was the Bidolo-Vamah, which was like no other moun- tain far or near. Bidolo-Vamah means " a ruined mountain ; " and it was indeed like a ruin. It was as if a mountain of the ordinary kind had been upheaved by some volcanic eruption, and had then, in mid-air, burst asunder in all directions. Even in mountains there are some prevailing forms, but Bidolo-Vamah was shapeless, hideous, confused ; and yet there was a strange attraction in it which drew the eyes of all men upon it. M 2 1 64 IjLealmajy [CHAP, There "were, as might be expected, strange legends about this mountain. Some said that all the moun- tains were bad, defying spirits ; and that Bidofo- Vamah had been their chief, and upon his devoted head had fallen with most fury the thunder-blasts of heaven. Others but these were the poets of the people said that these mountains had been great and wicked kings, who, for their wickedness, had been transformed into stone, and that Bidolo-Vamah had been the most wicked of them all. The level country was most rich and fertile. Those things which were but small ordinary plants in other parts of the earth, rose here into fullest magnitude and richest beauty. The bushes and trees were of corresponding size, and the luxuriance of all vegeta- tion was such that the plain seemed as if it were meant for a garden of primaeval giants, and not for the small race of men who had to subdue it, and to Live upon it. The fugitives had now approached the outskirts of the wood which lay between Abinamanche and Abibah ; and the trees were becoming scattered, Still the undergrowth of splendid weeds, gorgeous flowers, and rich grasses, embarrassed their move- ments. These latter began to take the form of water grasses, for the fugitives were rapidly approaching the great river Ramassa, which takes a curve from the hill country and crosses the pathway usually traversed between the two towns of Abinamanche and Abibah, at about a mile from the latter. Realmah had intended to swim across this river, carrying the Ainah with him. He was the most expert swimmer of his nation. His deformity, like that of Lord Byron, was not a hindrance in the water Then, as from his early years he had been left much at home, he had amused himself by swimming about in the lake, while the other young men of his nation 165 were hunting in the woods or cultivating the lowlands. Besides and this is a very curious fact neither the Sheviri nor the Phelatahs, though their habitations were on the water, were at all attached to that element They looked upon it as a means of defence, but they were neither good swimmers nor good boat- men. And, as we see to the present day in some nations, their genius did not lead them to love the water, and they were afraid of it. The shades of evening were coming on when the two fugitives were nearing the extreme outskirt of the wood. They had been silent for some time, being much overcome by fatigue and exhaustion. Suddenly the Amah began to sing softly that beautiful song which was such a favourite among the Sheviri, and which begins thus " Melaiah, Paraiah, amadala paree, Invannah doveeno, corosa Ramee." It was in truth a beautiful song. The main idea of it was this : all created things grow, but love : that, from the first, is infinite. The burden of the song may be translated thus " All creatures grow but the Great God, And my fond love for thee." Then the song went on to say how the oak was once an acorn ; and the branch was once a bud : how the blazing day was once grey morning ; and the full moon was once a little curve of light. And then the burden of the song came in again " All creatures grow but the Great God, And my fond love for thee." The Ainah never committed a graver error than in attempting to sing that song. A great scholar of ancient languages might have written nearly a treatise upon the blunders which the poor Ainah contrived to :66 |L^!mafr. [CHAP. make, both in grammar and euphony, in the first two lines of that celebrated song. For instance, the first word, Melaiah, she turned most unaccountably into Melakkah. Realmah shuddered, and could not avoid uttering a loud sound of intense disapproval. The sensitive Ainah turned and saw the shrug of the shoulders and the look of disgust upon her lover's counten- ance. She hastily approached him, rested her head upon his breast, and exclaimed, in a sorrowful tone, " I am so ignorant, I shock you. How can you love me ? " In that moment a change came over Realmah, and he saw certain things in a light which he had never seen them before. In book-life men retire into their chambers to reflect deeply, and to resolve upon a different course of thought or action ; but in real life, these changes are often absolutely sudden, and occur at the most unexpected times and places. And so it was now. Realmah saw at a glance how pedantic and how cruel it was of him to love the Ainah less, and to be disgusted with her, because he, who had been brought up with the learned and the noble, knew how to pronounce words rightly which the poor fisher-girl knew not. And with the tenderest words he re-assured her, telling her what a fool a man was if he looked to the expression and not to the thought ; and he laughingly told her that she might even call " louvara " " luffee," alluding to one of her worst blunders, if she liked, and he would love her just the same. After a moment or two they walked on together in the same order, and in a few minutes the Ainah commenced another song one of the songs of her own tribe, which was in their humble language, and the burden of which was " For tny love he loves many, Though 1 love but one." vii.] 3j,iciilma|j. 167 Being a common song, and the words consisting chiefly of monosyllables, she thought it v=*uld not vex his delicate sense of language. And here we may notice what a good girl the Ainah was. Many girls, under similar circumstances, would have been angry ; some would have been depressed ; others would have been sullen ; but her obedient and docile thought was only how she should show Realmah that she was not vexed, and that she could trust him when he told her that he would love her sweet words v however incorrectly they might be expressed. They were now in sight of the great river Ramassa ; indeed, they were not more than three hundred yards distant from it. They had emerged from the dense wood, but there were still great trees between them and the river. They walked on in this way for about a hundred yards. Realmah had joined in the burden of the Ainah's song ; but a nice discriminator of musical sounds might have discerned that some strange and sudden emotion had come over him while he was joining in the burden of that song. In truth, he had seen a face from behind one of the trees, and in a moment had conjectured what had been the plan of the Phelatahs in pursuit, and that they had sent on a party to intercept him at this river. He revolved his chances of escape, and decided upon his course of action. Suddenly stepping up to the Ainah, he playfully said, " Shall we see, Lufra, who will be first at the river's edge ? " and, with a strange inconsistency with his words, he seized her hand and rushed with her down to the river's edge. In a minute or two shouts were heard ; the scout who had seen Realmah had warned his fellows, five or six of whom had emerged from the wood in pursuit of Realmah and the Ainah, and were overtaking them rapidly, The fugitives, however, gained the river ; 1 68 |lealimilj, [CHAP. Realmah dashed in, dragging her after him. She clung to him in a way that embarrassed him most dangerously. Quick as thought he gave her a violent blow, which made her relinquish her hold, and indeed rendered her senseless, and then he commenced swimming, dragging her after him. Before the Phelatahs were on the bank, Realmah, availing himself of the current, and swimming rapidly, was at a considerable distance from the shore ; but not at such a distance, however, that the javelins of the Phelatahs were without effect. One of these pierced the arm of the senseless Ainah, while another struck the shoulder of Realmah, and remained in it. His courage, however, did not fail him ; and, though in great pain, he succeeded in reaching the opposite shore, dragging the Ainah with him, where he threw himself on the ground quite exhausted, the Ainah being still insensible. Happily they were now beyond the reach of the enemy's missiles. The Phelatahs dared not follow ; and after a short interval the Ainah recovered her senses. Realmah felt ashamed at the blow which he had given her, though he knew it had afforded the only chance for her safety ; and, lover-like, tenderly apolo- gized to her for his great cruelty. This readiness in a crisis of danger to take the necessary step, how- ever painful, was eminently characteristic of Realmah, who had in him the nature of a great commander : swift to appreciate, and ready to act upon, the dictates of dire necessity. The Ainah playfully said that the danger now was not his being too cruel, but too kind. The fugitives having bound up each other's wounds, pursued their way northwards. In a few hours they met with a party of labourers from Abibah, and in their company gained safely their native town. Great was the joy in Abibah when the return of vii. Realmah was made known through the town. Talora appeared more beautiful than ever ; and the. Varnah forgot, for the first day, to scold those persons who came to congratulate, but had the audacity to enter her apartments without having first carefully wiped their sandals. Nobody cared to inquire much into what the Ainah had done to aid in Realmah's escape ; and he himself did not dwell upon that part of the proceedings lest it should lead persons to notice and examine more closely the tender relations which now subsisted between them. But the love that there was in his heart for her partook of the largeness of his nature, and was, from that moment, deep, intense, and enduring. Conversation is certainly a very capricious thing. I did expect that after this reading we should have had a most interesting conversation. My master and I had taken great pains with those chapters of " Realmah." I do sometimes think that Mr. Milverton must, in some previous state of existence, have lived in one of these Lake cities, as whatever explanation I ask for upon any point, he always gives me at once ; and I took great care in these chapters not to allow him to go on narrating without I thoroughly under- stood every point of the narrative. In short, I was very proud of our work ; and that is the truth. After the reading there was some praise in general terms : " it was very interesting," " a new phase of life was opened," " it was an excellent choice of sub- ject," &c. &c. ; but that was not what I wanted. I did think we should have had some good discussion. Sir John Ellesmere is, no doubt, a very distin- guished man ; very amusing, agreeable, and even lovable ; but he is sometimes very trying, too. It 1 70 iJLealmajj. [CHAP. is one thing to read about a man, and another to live with him. It was all his fault that this conversa- tion went off so badly. The only thing that he could find to talk about, and that he discoursed about at great length, was about the three cranes which Realmah saw from his prison window, and the proverb of the Sheviri about cranes. (I wish we had never put in that passage.) He made out that it was an insult to fishermen, and dilated at large upon the especial merits and virtues of anglers. It was true they looked a great deal down into the waters, but it was not merely to catch fish, but to see the reflection of the heavens. They had written better books than any other men ; and then somehow he fell foul of authors, and publishers, and literary puffing, which I did not think very good taste, seeing there were two or three authors present. And, altogether, I was very much disappointed in the conversation. Mr. Milverton saw I was vexed, and said to me as he went away, " I see, Alick, you are quite annoyed at their not discussing our story. But, my dear boy, you must take it as a compliment. They do not see much to find fault with, and praise is always a dull thing. People seldom spend much time in praising. When a man looks back upon his misspent hours, he will not find that he has to reproach himself for many of them having been spent in commendation." I do not think he was quite pleased either. As for me, I could not help thinking of a passage in Fepys's Diary which I had lately been reading out to Mr. Milverton. I do not recollect the exact words, but they were something like these Pepys had been going up the river in a barge, attending upon King Charles the Second and his brother the Duke of York. Pepys is delighted at being in such good company ; nevertheless, in his honest way, he says : " But, Lord ! what poor stuff it was that they did vii.] talk as poor as ever I heard ; though, Heaven bless them, they are two princes of a noble nature, and oi excellent discernment." I remember that when I read out that passage, Sir John remarked that he was sure that Charles and James were making fun of Pepys (to speak vulgarly, chaffing him), and that he did not understand it ; but I believe that they were talking downright nonsense, just such "poor stuff" as Sir John himself and the other clever men were talking to-day. It is impossible to continue to be angry with Sir John Ellesmere : he is such a kind-hearted man. An hour or two after our last meeting I observed Sir John, Mr. Milverton, and Mr. Mauleverer walking in the garden, and in earnest conversation. I longed to join them, but did not like to do so, fearing that I might be intrusive. Sir John, seeing me in the distance, and guessing, I have no doubt, what I felt, called to me. Ellesmere. Come here, Sandy, and be flat-ironed I mean morally and metaphysically. Mr. Mauleverer is tell- ing a story which is to show convincingly that all young men are nincompoops ; all middle-aged men mere beasts of burden ; and all old men fools. Mauleverer some nine miles out of town. I always came up to town with him, in the four-horse omnibus. It was before the days of many railways. He was a stout, comely, serious-looking man, who invariably wore gold- rimmed spectacles, to which he paid great attention, often polishing the glasses with a bit of leather, and looking at the sky through them. " Good morning, sir ! " I said to him, after he had settled himself in the omnibus, " I think I had the pleasure of seeing you at the play last night. And those two pretty little girls are your daughters, I suppose? How they did enjoy it ! " "Yes, sir, they did, the dears ! I am afraid, though, they disturbed some of our neighbours by their merry laughing." *7 2 amay. [CHAP. " How inimitable Keeley was," I said, " after he had got hold of the talisman ! What fun it was when he wished for all his little brothers and sisters ; and they came pouring in through the walls in their nightgowns, and throwing their little arms about him ; and then when he said, * Oh, how I wish they were gone ! ' "I could not help thinking, though, all the time, what each of us then present would wish for, if we had such a talisman, that would only grant us one of our wishes. Now, I wonder, sir, what you would wish for?" It was rather an impertinent question on my part, for I only knew the man as an omnibus acquaintance. I did not even know his name. " I have not the slightest objection to telling you, sir," he said. " May one wish for anything for one's children ? because, of course " " No," I said, " it must be ^ purely personal wish." " My wish, then, sir, would decidedly be that my spectacle- glasses should always be clear. You have not come to spectacles, sir. You have no idea of the trouble of keeping the glasses clear. If it is frosty, a mist comes upon them ; if it is too hot, a mist comes upon them ; if you only wink your eyelids, the glasses suddenly seem to become dim. Spectacles are the greatest blessing, and the greatest plague of one's life. Yes : that is what my wish would be." " .Rather different, I suspect, from what it was when you were younger, sir ? " " Yes, sir, my wish then was to be an Arab sheik, gallop- ing about Arabia Petrasa on an Arab steed, with a lance in my hand. I had always a mania for the East ; but it has gone off considerably since I have married, and lived at Upper Tooting." " By the way, have you looked, sir, at the debate of last night ? I agree with the Times not that I always do agree with the Times, sir that both the Ministry and the Oppo- sition played their respective games very badly." Ellesmere. Now Mauleverer tells us this anecdote with his usual spirit of malice against the human race. He means, no doubt, to show how we come down, in the course of years, from grand ideas to small and household ones vii. j ^asumqf, 173 from Arab sheikdom to an anxious care for the clearness of our spectacles. I read the anecdote quite differently. I say that the man's ideas had expanded. You see he took an interest in politics. He declared (I don't believe him) that he did not swear by his Tunes. He delighted in taking his little daughters to the play. He had the good sense to prefer Upper Tooting to Arabia Petraea. In order to maintain his clearness of vision in these matters, he naturally wished to have his spectacle-glasses clear. This anecdote seems to me to put human nature and human life in a very favourable point of view. Milverton. You have not heard my story, Ellesmere, which I told Mauleverer before you joined us. I was with an eminent man of letters the other day, and he received a proof-sheet. " Here is this beast of a thing," he said ; " full of printer's errors, I have no doubt ! " " Oh, dear, dear, how well I remember my first proof- sheet, which I received when I was quite a youth. It was a divine moment ! I had written something which somebody was foolish enough to think worth printing, and I was expecting the first proof-sheet." " My good father, as I had just gained a prize at college, had given me a horse a few days before ; and, to employ the slowly-moving hours of expectation, I had taken a fierce ride, resolving not to return until after the time when the post came in, and when the proof-sheet must have arrived." "The benevolent printers (how I blessed them for it !) had not disappointed me ; and there was the delightful packet on the table when I did return. What a beautiful invention printing seemed to me ! How my poor thoughts seemed to gain in force and clearness, when they were clothed in this charming dress ! I should be sorry to say how many times I read over that proof-sheet, each time admiring it more. And yet there was a feeling of humility mixed with my exaltation. Were my thoughts really worthy to be put in this fine garb ? I said to myself. But this did not damp rny joy much. Worthy or not, there they were in print, and would be ' in a book, with kivers to 'un.' " "And now, when I have one of those things," he said, i?4 amaj. [CHAP. pointing to the rather dirty proof-sheet, " ' I have neither a sense of exaltation nor of humility, but there is simply before me a bit of disagreeable work to be carefully done.' " Ellesmcre. I see nothing in all this. You men of fine sentiments are always duped by your sentimentality. The man has now an assured reputation, which is a perma- nent source of pleasure to him. Of course, the novelty of proof-sheets has gone off; and, moreover, he knows by this time that he cannot do so much by criticism and correction as he thought he could when he was younger. Would he be younger ? Ask him that. That is the question. Mauleverer. No : he would not, because he has found out what a miserable thing life is. Ellesmere. Come and find out your nursery-tea : a great and wise institution this, of nursery-tea ! Do I not see Mrs. Milverton at the window, making imperious gestures to us, signifying that the tea is getting cold ? When shall I ever make these men, wise men ? more like myself, and more willing to take life comfortably, instead of interchang- ing their respective drearinesses, and making melancholy out of anecdotes which are really pleasant and encouraging. Come along ! Bmlmajr. 175 CHAPTER VIII. WE were all at breakfast this morning all, at least, but Sir John Ellesmere and Mr. Mauleverer, who had gone for a walk. It was a dull, sombre, autumn day, with a low mist in the valley, and hardly a breath of air moving. Our conversation, too, in the absence of Sir John, was not particularly lively. Mr. Milverton was telling Mr. Cranmer that, after a recent battle, there was a continuous line, ten miles long, of wagons and carriages carrying the wounded ; and Mr. Cran- mer was making calculations as to how many wounded persons there must have been. Sir Arthur was reciting, aside, some passages from " Paracelsus " to Lady Ellesmere, to convince her that it was a great poem. I overheard some of the passages, and looked at them afterwards. " The rabbit has his shade to frighten him, The fawn a rustling bough, mortals their cares, And higher natures yet would slight and laugh At these entangling fantasies, as you At trammels of a weaker mind ; but judge Your mind's dimension by the shade it casts ! " And then this one " And from the East Day, like a mighty river, flowing in ; But clouded, wintry, desolate, and cold." And this " Are there not, dear Michal, Two points in the adventure of the diver : One when a beggar he prepares to plunge ? One when a prince he rises with his pearl ? Festus, I plunge ! " j 76 lUalmajr, [CHA?. Even the cleverest men, I find, make great mis- takes sometimes. It does not do to talk humanity, or quote poetry, at breakfast time. It is too early, and people are neither humane nor romantic at this immature and "uncooked" period of the day. Be- sides, I could see that Lady Ellesmere was only- thinking about her husband, and wondering why he was not at breakfast ; and so Browning's beautiful lines received merely a polite attention from her. Presently we heard the noise and bustle which usually announce Sir John Ellesmere's approach, and he burst into the room. Ellesmere. Oh ! I am so glad to see you all again ! Lady Ellesmere. Why ? What ? Has anything happened ? Have you met with any accident, John? Ellesmere. Don't be so fussy, my dear. If anything had happened, if I had tumbled down a precipice, it would be a mark of ill-breeding to make a fuss about it, especially at breakfast. But here I am, safe and sound; and as for His Vastness (Sir John often called Mr. Mauleverer " His Vast- ness," or " His Amplitude"), he is about half a mile away, at the bottom of the hill. I ran off, saying I wished to warm myself, but in reality to make my escape from him. He has been awful this morning. What a clever man he is, though ! You see the kind of day it is not superabundantly cheerful. Well, we went to walk under "the beeches." I am not a man particularly subject to mournful fancies ; buj if ever they succeed in oppressing me, it is when I am walk^ ing upon damp, rotting, autumn leaves. There is a passage in Alfred de Vigny's celebrated novel of " Cinq-Mars," in which, previously to the hero's downfall, the royal cavalcade of heavy carriages goes crunching through the dead leaves of the forest, on just such a day as this, and everybody feels a foreshadowing of some calamity. That passage made a great impression upon me when I was a boy. Mauleverer saw that I had not my usual life and spirits this morning, and shamefully abused his opportunity. Of course he VIII. preached upon his never-failing text, the misery of human life. He told me that fees were a mistake. I did not see that, looking at the question from a recipient's point of view. He told me that Lady Ellesmere was more of a plague than a pleasure. That I denied, maintaining that in this particular case the plague and the pleasure were about aqually balanced. Lady Ellesmere. Thank you, John, for your noble defence of your poor wife. Ellesmere. He then mentioned that virtue was dull, and vice despicable, disgusting, and dyspeptic. You must have noticed how fond he is of alliteration. Meanwhile I kept singing a song of Beranger's " Aimons vite, Pensons vite ; Toute invite A vivre vite. Aimons vite, Pensons vite. Au galop Monde falot ! " But nothing would stop him. Lady Ellesmere. John singing ! Ye Powers of Time and Tune, what ye endure ! If he should have the misfortune to survive me, instead of the usual things that men say in epitaphs of their dear wives, he need only inscribe this line " She did not mind her husband's singing much." And, indeed, I rather like it, for, though it is murderous in the way of music, John is always in an especial good humour when he sings, as he calls it ; but the autumn leaves and Mr. Mauleverer were evidently too much for him this morning. Ellesmere. You are very witty ; but you waste precious time, my dear. I have lots to tell you before he comes. Well, then, he deviated into a discussion about the minor miseries of human life, and here he made a simile which I think you will say is one of the strangest you ever heard. N 178 HUalmd. [CHAP. He compared these miseries to the crumbs in the bed of a sick man, who is too ill to rise for his meals. The poor wretch, he said, does what he can to brush them away; thinks, after great labour, and many painful twistings and turnings, for he can hardly move, that he has accomplished it ; but when he settles down once more, he is sure to find some of those detestable crumbs molesting him again, and he never gets rid of them till he is taken out of bed perhaps for the last time. It is one of the homeliest of similes ; possibly the homeliest that was ever made ; but it is really a very tolerable one, and it certainly cannot be said to be far-fetched. You should have heard him dilate upon it in his grandilo- quent way. "The man who lives but on applause finds ever, in his hard couch, the crumbs of an unsatisfied vanity molesting him. The jealous, sensitive man may brush away at these unpleasant fragments ever so diligently, but some of them (the hard little daily annoyances caused by an over-craving affection, or by a nature ' misunderstood,' as he is pleased to called it) remain to plague him. And to every man these relics of his incomplete and misspent life return to torment him, let him be nursed ever so sedulously." Now, did you ever hear such a simile as that ? Sometimes, of course, one did not make out which were the physical, and which the metaphysical, crumbs ; but that sort of confusion is indulged in by all simile-mongers. Sir Arthur. I should have thought, Sir John, that you would not have -- Ellesmere. Yes, I know ; you think, because you see me now so boisterously well, that I am never ill, and cannot appreciate this crumb-misery; but I suffer from a fit of sciatica about once every other year. The domestic per- secution I undergo on those occasions ! but there is no time to tell you about that now. I have a good deal more to say : and His Vastness, though he moves but slowly, never stops, if you observe. " He will be here anon," as they say in plays. Now I have something very serious to tell you. You would all be utterly oppressed by that stout gentleman I know you would if it were not for me. The women would vi 11. 1 mmaj. 179 go over to his side at once. They like a melancholy man ; and then he is so charmingly polite. Sandy, too, would go over to his side : the Scotch have rather a turn for melan- choly. As for Cranmer, His Amplitude would soon win him. He would do it by simple syllogism. Thus All men who do not pay their taxes cheerfully are wicked and miserable ; Nobody does pay his taxes cheerfully ; Therefore, everybody is wicked and miserable. Cranmer could not resist that piece of close reasoning ; and would go over to the other side of the House that is, to the side of dumps and dolorousness. I believe if I were to go away for three days, and come back again here, this is the state of things I should come upon. I should find Mauleverer at dinner alone. I should ask for the rest of you. With a smile of serene satisfaction, he would conduct me to the trees which are your especial favourites in the garden, and there I should find each of you pendent from your favourite tree. I can see the air of polite contempt with which, having persuaded you to get safely away from the miseries of life by hanging yourselves, he would offer you your choice of a tree. His contempt would be for human beings having any likings or dislikings in such an insignificant matter as hanging themselves. Mark you, he is the soul of honour. Without joking, there is a touch of real grandeur in that man's character, and I am beginning to like him very much. But he is the dreariest mortal that ever lived. I'll bet that the story of his life, if we could ever worm it out of him, is very remarkable. Well, as I was saying, he is the soul of honour ; and he would not have persuaded you to do a thing which he would not do himself. He also would have been an in- teresting pendent from a tree ; but is there any branch of any tree in Hampshire that could sustain his weight ? Of course he would have come to the ground at once, only half-hanged. Then he would think that he would have one more dinner a dinner that he could order for himself without Mrs. Milverton's well-meant but half-instructed interference ; and there I should find him enjoying one N 2 I So citmaj. [CHAP of his favourite dishes, at the production of which he would have assisted. But stay, one thing I have forgotten. I have shown how he would win over the ladies, and Cranmer, and Sandy, but there still remain Sir Arthur and Milverton. They would make something of a fight But they have no sound basis of animal spirits to go upon ; and melancholy, steadily applied, conquers everything but animal spirits. I am the only piece de resistance, to use one of his own favourite phrases, which would not be devoured by him. Take care of me I am your safeguard against him. He is in immense force to-day. I am sure something very unfortunate for the human race must have happened somewhere, and that he has a mesmeric consciousness of it. But hush ! Don't you perceive the room shake a little? His Ponderosity has entered the hall, and here he comes. [Enter Mr. Mauleverer. \ Mauleverer. I am sorry, Mrs. Milverton, to be so late. Mrs. Milverton. I have kept these warm for you at the fire, Mr. Mauleverer. Lady Ellesmere. And so, Mr. Mauleverer, you have been telling my husband that I am more of a plague than a pleasure to him. Mauleverer. I, Lady Ellesmere ? I never said anything of the kind. Something, I believe, I did say about women in general ; but every woman I know is an especial ex- ception to the rule I laid down. How can you be so treacherous, Sir John, as to repeat sayings intended only for your own discreet ears ? Sir Arthur. Do not ask Mauleverer any more questions, Lady Ellesmere. Do let the poor man have his breakfast in peace. I want to ask Ellesmere something about his illnesses. I cannot picture him to myself as a sick man. Lady Ellesmere. He will tell terrible things about me, I know. Ellesmere. There I am, in bed, unable to move, and Lady Ellesmere comes and talks to me in this fashion by way of comforting me. " I told you it would be so, John ; 181 you never take an umbrella, never change your damp boots, you will always walk home from the House, and you would go out to dinner the day before yesterday with that under- secretary, who gives such exquisite dinners that you are dissatisfied with mine for a month afterwards ; and this is the result." Now I call that comforting. There is a con- soler for you. Milverton. Of course, Mildred, I don't believe one tithe of what he says. I have no doubt you are an excellent nurse ; but that kind of talk which he describes is much af- fected by our nurses, and certainly it is not very consolatory. I have often wondered that there is not, in any language that I know of, an especial word to designate the person who always goes back from the present to dwell upon the mistakes and errors of the past. We have not even any great personage in history or fiction to whom we can compare such a person. Now, when we want to describe a person who is always prophesying evil, we liken him, or her, to Cassandra; but when we want to describe the other thing, namely, the person who always goes back to the evil of the past, saying this was wrong, and that was mis- taken, and that everything would have been very different if everybody had acted differently, and had foreseen the event, we have nobody to whom to liken him. I suppose, mathematically speaking, we must say Cassandra with a minus sign. Sir Arthur. Well done, Milverton ! You have really pointed out a great want in language. Suppose we call him a " backwardiser," and the process "backwardising?" Ellesmere. These are not very pretty words, Sir Arthur. I would rather say an " afterteller " and " aftertelling," just as we say foreteller and foretelling. But I was going to discourse to you more about illness I think I knowagreat deal about it, and what I can say would be worth a Jew's ransom if people would only attend to it. You hear of people dying of this disease, or of that disease, but what they really do die of is of questions. I believe 1 have a pretty strong will some people would say it amounts to wilfulness ; but when I am unwell I lose all strength of will, and cannot bear to be bothered with i 82 Utalmafj. [CHAP. questions. " Will you have your gruel made of grits or of barley? Will you have your vapour bath now? When will you take your medicine?" These weighty questions and they are weighty to the poor sick man thoroughly overcome me. Now I am quite serious. An invalid ought to be treated mentally and morally as he is physically; namely, with gentleness, yet with perfect firmness. Don't give him any choice about anything : don't burden his mind with deci- sion : remove from him all responsibility, which is so fatiguing a thing. I have no doubt that the excellent Miss Nightingale has said all this in her way, but I venture to say it in mine. A person in health can hardly have a conception of the helpless irritability of a real invalid. The most difficult case does not disturb my equanimity when I am well ; but when I am ill, the question of grits or barley is an overpowering one, and raises the pulse seven beats at least. Lady Ellesmere. You may imagine what a monster of impatience he must be when he is ill. Sir Arthur. His words, though, are the words of wisdom, Lady Ellesmere. I have no doubt that a judicious moral treatment of the sick has saved many a life. By this time, Mr. Mauleverer had finished his breakfast, the ladies rose, and our conversation this morning was ended. Sir Robert Walpole said that every man has his price. My small experience of the world does not enable me to confirm, or to contradict, this maxim ; but I begin to suspect that every author has his vanity. I did think that my master was free from this foible. He never cares to hear what is said about his writings, except for business purposes that is, to meet an objection or to remedy an error, or to explain something that he finds is not understood ; he would give away to anybody his most cherished 183 ideas ideas he had toiled over to bring into shape ; and he even dislikes to have his name connected with anything he has done. To-day, however, or rather this evening, I could see that the author's vanity was not extinct in him, and that he was thoroughly pleased and flattered by a person not much given to please and flatter, namely, Sir John Ellesmere. This circumstance is what gives the following conversation especial interest to me, though per- haps in itself it was not the least interesting \ve have had. Mr. Mauleverer, who has studied astronomy very carefully, expressed a wish that, in the evening, we should come out upon the lake that has been before described, whence we could look at the stars, and see something which he was anxious to point out to us. We agreed to dine very early ; to go and see what Mr. Mauleverer was to show us ; and then to return for our reading of Realmah. Oddly enough, after we had got into the boat, the conversation did not at first turn upon any grand or elevating subject, but was merely a continuation of a conversation that had commenced at dinner, upon a very common place subject ; namely, hospitality. I cannot give all the conversation in detail ; but I remember the main points. Mr. Cranmer maintained that the mode of reception of a guest was the most important thing. Mr. Mil- verton said that the chief point for a host to think of was, that his guests were not at home that they were, to use a French expression, desorientis, whereas he was perfectly aware of the points of the compass. He (Mr. Milverton) therefore maintained that the host must attend to all manner of little things con- nected with the comfort of his guests ; take an in- terest in their comings and goings ; and especially 184 llealmalj. [CHAP watch that they are well attended to when they ring their bells. He maintained that dinner was, com- paratively, an unimportant thing, that we were always too well-fed everywhere ; from which propo- sition Mr. Mauleverer expressed, in the most emphatic manner, his entire dissent. Sir Arthur said that the Prime Minister 1 was a perfect host, because he attended to these little things which Mr. Milverton had spoken of; would even, in the midst of his arduous duties, study Brad- shaw for the benefit of his guests, carefully provide the means of transit for them, take care to have early breakfasts for them if they were going any- where at an irrational time in the morning ; and, in short, be even a little fussy in looking after all manner of comforts and conveniences for them. But how one valued this thoughtful kindness from such a man ! From this point I remember how the conversation went : Sir Arthur. Some time ago I went into a part of the country which is celebrated for its romantic scenery. Our friend J , whom we used to know and to like at college, Milverton, invited me to his place, and I accepted the invitation. The morning after I arrived at his house I felt very unwell. Now the first thing when you are un- well is to get a fire made in your room. I rang the bell early : it was answered by a rather clownish, but not unin- telligent-looking young fellow. " Light me a fire, please." "A fire?" said he, and looked despondingly at me, and then at the fireplace. " Yes ; I must have a fire : I don't feel well." Then he set to work to light the fire, taking great pains with his work. In a few moments the fire began to smoke furiously. 1 It was Lord Palmerston. vni.] $tahna{f. 185 I jumped up in bed, and remarked, not in the mildest terms, " that it smoked." " Yes, I knowed she 'ud : she almost alms does. She's smoked this twenty year, as I've heerd say." The door was put open ; but " she " was one of those vicious chimneys which do not care a bit whether doors are open or not. " Have you got such a thing as a pair of bellows ?" " No, we han't got such a thing as bellusses." And then the good-natured youth lay down on the floor, and per- formed the part of a bellows with a goodwill and a vigour that it was astonishing to behold. By the way, I may remark that our friend J is not a poor man. He has a magnificent collection of gems and medals : and household gods of every variety of strange hideousness adorned every disposable corner of his dwelling. I really mean " household gods " Roman, Chinese, Peru- vian, Mexican, Japanese. These quaint little monsters (J has no children) were doted upon by himself and Mrs. J . The boy went on puffing and blowing. ' ; Goethe was quite wrong," I remarked, thinking aloud for myself. "Were he, sir? I dare say he were," replied the youth, looking up for a moment. " Master's allus complaining of them people at the Bald-faced Stag." This was the inn I had taken horses from to come on to J 's. " Yes," I continued ; " he said, * Always take care of the Beautiful, for the Useful will take care of itself' I would say, * Always take care of the Useful; for the Beautiful will take care of itself' " Mauleverer. And it does not much matter whether it does or not. Sir Arthur. And the youth said, " Eh, dear, the gentle- man didn't know no better, I suppose." But whether my puffing friend understood the question, and really sided with me, or whether he agreed with me from complaisance, I am to this day in doubt. Milverton. Goethe is as right as possible. Etlesmcre. Sir Arthur is certainly very unjust in this 1 86 |leiifmalr. [CHAP. instance. It is not the Beautiful but the Curious and the Grotesque that J cared for. Milverton. Of course. Ellesmere. And Sir Arthur's error was in visiting a collector. Collectors are a race of men by themselves. They are the most dangerous form of misers I mean dangerous to live with. They are very useful fellows, I admit. But my reply to any invitation on their part would run as follows : " Sir John Ellesmere presents his com- pliments to Mr. and Mrs. Collector, and regrets that a previous engagement prevents his having the pleasure of accepting their kind invitation." Mauleverer. You have both set upon Sir Arthur, and have treated him very hardly, I think. His remark was one of general application ; and, just because he happened to mention that this J was a collector of little house- hold monsters, you have directed your attack upon this point ignoring the fact, as I say, that Sir Arthur's remark was of a most general character. I think the story a very valuable one. Bellows absent, gems present; smoky chimney suffered to exist ; comfort of guests utterly neglected, but ' household gods " affronting you everywhere. That is the way to put it. Ellesmere. I maintain that the great duty of a host is not to be a bore, and not to show people anything which he may fancy they might like to see. Indeed I have come to the conclusion that the host, to be a perfect host, should be blind and a cripple I even think it would be better that this perfect host should have an impediment in his speech, and be slightly paralytic. [No one would agree with this inhuman proposi- tion.] Ellesmere. Oh ! you think me a monster ! We are all to tell our sad experiences of what is fondly called hospitality ; so hear one of mine. I was once invited by a host whom I thought to be perfection. He was very learned : he was very witty : he was paitially blind : and always either in a fit of the gout, or threatened with a fit of it. " Here is the man for me." via.] Bcalmab. 187 I said. " I will accept his invitation. We shall only see him at dinner, when he will be most agreeable." I went to his house. The next morning after my arrival to my utter amazement, he ordered horses for all of us and took us to see some drainage works on his estate There were 27 degrees of frost that day. As we sat or our horses, surveying the common process of draining, about which I thought I knew something, and did not want to know any more, we were nearly statuefied. As the okl women say, you might have knocked me down with a feather; for hands, arms, feet, and legs were entirely without life. As we rode back, I could not help saying, " M.y dear sir, don't take me indoors, I am entirely frozen ; just throw me into your ice-house. I shall be very useful there next June.'' I don't believe he felt the reproof. Now look at Milverton : perhaps he is the best host in this kingdom. I have never met with his equal. He complains of fatigue if he walks with you more than 200 yards : he is ever anxious to be back at his work again ; he will " almost allus " leave you alone, if you will leave him alone. Considered as a host, he is a beautiful creature unrivalled. But I would not trust even him. I maintain my first proposition, that a man to be a perfect host should have nothing to show you, or, if he has, he should be too ill to be able to show it. Mr. Cranmer then astonished us all by maintain- ing that the one great thing to ensure happiness in any assemblage of people was, that they should like one another (that one uncongenial person could neutralize ten congenial people), and that all social happiness consisted in the amount of affection and esteem that pervaded the society that you did not care what rude things a man said to you of whose regard you were really sure, and so conversation might be free, frank, bold, and yet not offensive. It was the main point in hospitality to bring congenial people together. After this the conversation changed, and Mr 1 88 Ixcitimal, [CHAP. Mauleverer pointed out to us the phenomena in the aspect of the heavens that he had wished us to come and see. I cannot give an account of what he said, for I did not understand it. Sir Arthur. What an awful thing it would be to behold the conflagration of a star ! Such a thing has occurred recently, has it not, Mauleverer? Mr. Mauleverer. Yes. Milverton. There are two things that appal me when- ever I consider them. One is, the immense amount of complicated misery which any one human soul can endure without going mad. Ellesmere. And the second is ? Milverton. The idea of illimitable space that is to be derived from the contemplation of these innumerable worlds around us. I don't know whether you remember a theory I once propounded to some of you, that the stars are as close to one another (relatively speaking) as the ultimate atoms of the wood in this boat ; and that to the vision that could embrace such a scene, the heavenly bodies would appear to be solid bodies, or, perhaps, one solid body. Ellesmere. That is an idea in respect to which I would rather not pledge myself to say anything. Milverton. Well, then, I imagine that all matter is in motion ; that the motion is analogous to that of the heavenly bodies ; and that chemical combination is merely a disturbance and re-formation of the orbits of the ulti- mate atoms of matter. Mauleverer. In fact, that all chemistry is but astronomy ? Ellesmere. I hope your theories may be true for this reason : that we should then only have to learn one science instead of two, which would be a great convenience to half- educated persons, such as I am. Sir Arthur. I like to dwell upon the moral aspect of such a scene as this. The contemplation of these innu- merable worlds really ought to make us a little less fussy and tiresome about our own small affairs. if I had to comfort a disappointed man, or to soothe an viii. j ^SLealmajj. 189 angry man, or to console a bereaved man, I should like to have him in the open air to talk to, on a starry moonlit night. I think I should have far more chance of prevailing with him if I could direct his attention occasionally to the stars. I wonder more use has not been made of this situation in the drama, and in fiction generally. Ellesmere, Well, you see, in these northern climes, when one has any great business to transact, a murder to plan, a ministry to upset, a rival in love to circumvent, a large sum of money to get, one likes to be in a comfortable, warm room, if possible with a fire, and not to be amongst gnats and insects, (how they do plague one now !) staring up at these heavenly bodies about which we know next to nothing, and the contemplation of which does not make us practical and business-like. Mr. Mauleverer. As we drove down here, we passed the telegraph wires. I saw a sparrow comfortably perched upon one of these wires ; and I said to myself, " As much as that sparrow knows of the urgent haste, and the sorrow, and the suffering which are expressed in the messages that are passing under its claws, which do not perceive the slightest tremulousness as the messages speed on, so much does the poor human being know of what is being transacted in this universe, and of what it all means'' And while I was thinking this thought, Mr. Sparrow chirped an affectionate little chirp, and Mrs. Sparrow came and perched beside him ; and they doubtless thought that they were the masters of the situa- tion, and the lord and lady of the whole scene. Ellesmere. Just as Mrs. Milverton believes that the wild theories that Milverton has just put forward, are in exact accordance with scientific truth and wisdom. It would be an amusing thing (if one dared to think of amusement in a future state) to imagine how most of the greatest thinkers will prove to have been utterly wrong. But let us quit these dangerous themes for those which are humbler and safer. You said some time ago, Sir Arthur, that stars have not been made enough use of in the drama and in fiction gene- rally. Have you ever read Alexander Smith's works? They |icalimi{r, [CHAP. are really very good, and he makes immense use of the stars. But there is an obscure author, a friend of mine, who is also very fond of making good use of the sun and the stars. The next thing to being a poet is being a person who can remember poetry ; and I am not sure but that the man who takes the trouble to learn by heart large quantities of poetry has not a more poetical soul in him than the poet. I know it is so in the present case. Milverton. Ellesmere's memory for poetry is extraor- dinary. He can quote you 70 lines at a time from Pope or Dryden. Sir Arthur. Nothing would be more appropriate, Sir John, than that, amidst this beautiful scene, you should quote poetry largely to us. We are coming near the swans' nest too, which would make such quotation more suitable. Ellesmere. Well, it is from a drama that I am going to quote. There are two lovers (of course there are When shall we ever have a good story without these tire- some lovers?). The hero tells of his travels: he comes to the South : " The joyous, noisy South, where the perfume Of orange-groves pervades the charmed air, And overcomes the incense in the temples ; And where the yellow rocks uprise from out A tideless sea that purples as you gaze, And seems like th' unreal waters of enchantment You read of in a magic tale that might, Some potent word pronounced, vanish away." Then he describes a thing I once saw myself somewhere on the Mediterranean, a part of the shore where the sand is wholly black : " Like crumbled memories of a life All spent in sorrow ........ On which the calm blue ripple, like a lizard Up a dark wall, stole softly : then, to Africa We sailed, and in the desert drew that breath So full, so deep, that ever afterwards There is a sense of stifling in grand palaces, When we recall our sojourn midst the sand, 191 And see again brown camels moored about Our tent, and watch the all-pervading sunset One fiery dome the north, the east, the south, Reddening alike, nor leaving to the west Alone the duty-task of shining out In regal pomp when the fierce king of day Takes leave of all the courtly hemisphere At once a sunset wholly inconceivable To those who dwell in pallid Russia." Then, of course, the lady says : " Oh, would that I had been with you in that tent ! " Then comes the starry bit, for the gentleman exclaims : " And how at the big stars we gazed, and wondered That men could e'er be cruel to each other, Having that sky to look upon, and all That it may mean to interpret." Then he gives a description of the ruins of some provin cial amphitheatre, saying that of all he saw, that was the thing which haunted his memory most closely : " Like some fierce, wicked face, seen once in a crowd, That will obtrude its unblest recollection, And will not bide dismissal ; it is this : Amidst the hills there lies an oval valley, Not shaped by nature, but man's work all man s. From base to summit curving lines ascend Of granite steps." Then there is a description of some of the arrangements for the spectators, especially for the ladies : " That great provincial dames might sit in comfort, Four arched and barred recesses, treasure caves, Contained the hoarded mass of human misery And bestial suffering chosen to delight The pampered multitude pining for blood. See ! the Proconsul comes The hushed spectators draw a lower breath, And wait, with palpitating joy, the rush Of beasts which are to tear their fellow-men ; Or, peevish at some wearisome delay, 1 92 aimtx [CHAP Denounce the meanness of patricians nowadays, And moralize upon the scarcity Of lions, praising much the good old times, When gladiators died more freely." Then I suppose there is some stupid love-making; but I forget At any rate the gentleman resolves to go on with his story, and he does so in these words : 4 ' And now, departed all, Proconsuls, lions, gladiators, slaves, A wooden stage, and painted daubs hung out Of dancing girls, such as attract the boors At festivals, betray the conquering march Of a new creed that makes account of men. '" I suppose it is Verona that the dramatist alludes to, wheie you see a modern boarded theatre occupying some portion of the old amphitheatre. By the way, when I saw Verona, I was in company with another friend of mine, named Leonard Milverton, and I never saw a man so entranced with a picture as he was with one of those said " daubs." You could not arouse him from his contemplation of it. Now I could always get him away from a Titian. I so soon become tired of pictures. That reminds me of an omission in our talk about hospi- tality. Should it not be set down as one of the greatest breaches of hospitality when a man will show you his pictures ? And there are fiend-like hosts who absolutely insist upon showing you books of prints, and making you go right through them ; but such men never have my com- pany more than once. Well, but I left Milverton contemplating this daub. You never saw a man so fascinated by a work of art. So, quoth I, " What can you see in that thing, Milverton ? It is only a magnified representation of the pictures * fast' men at college in our time (I suppose there are no such things now) used to have in their rooms of favourite dancers." " No," he said, grasping my arm, and looking at me with a fierce seriousness, " it is perhaps the greatest stride that Christianity has ever made from gladiators to dancing maidens." Let me give you another passage from my drama ; it is my favourite, and it will delight Mauleverer. In fact, I think he will send a io/. note anonymously to the author, as a proof of his entire satisfaction. I think he will give me what the vulgar call a " fiver," for having quoted it. This is the passage : " We shall succeed. This one injustice may be remedied. But then the things that have been why they come Upon me now I wot not : hideous deeds Long numbered with the past. The earth may smile, And deck herself each May, vain tiling ! with flowers, And seem forgetful of the cruelties Enacted on her ever-changing stage, Till every spot upon the storied surface Is rank with tragic memories. " Then he dilates upon the horrors that have been perpe- trated on this earth. " The earth may smile, I say, But, like a new-made widow's mirth, it shocks one. And she, the earth, should never quit her weeds ; And should there come a happier race upon her, Ever there'll be a sighing of the wind, A moaning of the sea, to hint to that More favoured race what we poor men have suffered. There must have been a history, they'll say, To be interpreted by all these sighs And moans." Not bad lines, are they, Mrs. Milverton ? Mrs. Milverton. I think they are beautiful, Sir John. Sir Arthur (who had evidently an inkling of the author- ship). They certainly are, Mrs. Milverton. Where is this poem to be found? Ellesmere. Trunks or butter, Sir Arthur. The linings of old trunks, or the wrappages of butter, are to be examined carefully if you would recover this charming work. Milverton. My dear John, you must have had a great liking for the author, or you never would have cumbered your memory to such an extent with his rubbish. Ellesmere. Well, honestly, I did not think it was rubbish, though it was written by a friend. (Here Ellesmere put his O 194 Hiealmalj. [CHAP. hand for a moment on Milverton's ; and I certainly never saw Mr. Milverton look more pleased.) Moreover, the tyrant of an author laid hold of me, and made me copy out some of the drama for the printers ; and that is how I came to know so much of it by heart. How about the ten pounds, Mauleverer, which you were to send to the poor author ? Mauleverer. You do not quite understand me, any of you. I am not disposed to indulge in the munificence which Sir John has kindly suggested for me, and I shall not send that anonymous author ten pounds, or give Ellesmere five, because the author merely dwells upon cruelties and horrors of all kinds committed by men, whereas I should have liked him to have dwelt upon their littleness and their baseness. Ellesmere. My dear Mauleverer, do you really think that a poem should be something like the proceedings of the Central Criminal Court? Sir Arthur. Mauleverer thinks that poetic description ennobles, and so disguises, human suffering. Cranmer. Prose is the proper thing. There is nothing of any importance that can be described adequately, except in prose. Ellesmere. A noble sentiment ! Mauleverer. I am very much obliged to Sir Arthur for explaining what he thinks I mean ; but I decline to accept my kind commentator's version of my meaning. The poet, as quoted by Ellesmere, has just told his story to show the sufferings of mankind. I could tell you one to show its ineradicable baseness. You think that you learned and imaginative men, Sir Arthur, are the only persons whose nymphs inform them of strange stories ; but I have my story, too. Ellesmere. Pray let us have it. Do not be modest, Mauleverer : modesty would not sit well upon you. Mauleverer. Well, then, you shall have it. To a planet, not very far from us, but which I shall not mention, because one ought to be confidential as regards the doings in neighbouring planets, the souls of capitalists, men of business, and well-to-do people are transferred. VIIL] iualimig. 195 Now the law in this planet is that these people shall be endowed with certain portions of their dear money, accord- ing to the use, judicious or injudicious, which they have made of it in this world. The form of the endowment is this They all have to pass, one by one, in front of a colossal statue. It would tax the utmost powers of any mortal to describe this statue. I have ever loved statues beyond all other works of art, and therefore may be permitted to attempt a description of it. There have been great statues made even in this world. Who has not heard and thought of the magnificent Memnon with his unseen lyre trembling into music at the rising of the sun ? Who, that has seen it, has not been awed by the Sphinx, cruellest of maidens, daughter of Chimaera, propounding riddles harder to under- stand than her own mixed nature of lioness and woman ? Need I dwell upon the god-like grandeur of Michael Angelo's Jupiter? And, to come down to the statues of ordinary life; who that at night, alone, has paced up and down long galleries enriched with statues, has not felt that these statues have spoken awful words to his soul ? Perhaps there has been a row of mighty wicked Roman emperors ; and Neros, Caligulas, and Domitians have frankly acknow- ledged their colossal wickednesses to the horror-stricken mortal contemplating them. But all these, the works of men, sink into insignificance when compared with the statue which, with humility and fear, I venture to describe. It was golden : not that it was of gold, but that it pro- duced in your mind the idea of gold. Its robes were of jasper, onyx, and opal : not that these earthly materials were. there, but that it produced the ideas of them in your mind. But the transcendent quality about this statue was this that you were fully conscious that it was alive, and yet that it was a statue. Its face was downcast ; its attitude bending : it held its clasped hands in front of it, the elbows resting on its curule chair. Not anger nor pity, nor joy, nor sor- row, was imprinted on its countenance, but only intense thought. It did not give you the idea of a Being petrified into a statue, nor as if any hands had wrought at it and O 2 |UalnUlIj. [CHAP. fashioned it. It seemed as if only supreme thought and judgment had taken form. One by one those who had been mortal defiled before it, and its ministers awarded gifts according to the dread thoughts of the Statue, which they alone could interpret. I need hardly say how different its judgments were from those which Fortune had pronounced in this world. The struggling man who had hardly known how to keep soul and body together here, but who had a great heart that might be trusted, found himself, to use a French phrase, " at the head of" large revenues \ while he who had been a millionaire here, found himself condemned to live upon the merest pittance. Not that it was always so, for envy had dwarfed the just receptiveness of some poor men for money, while there were men who had been rich in this world, and remained rich in my planet too, because they had been great in soul, as well as abounding in substance. The curious thing was that all went away, if not satisfied, at least unmurmuring, and supremely convinced of the abso- lute justice of the Statue's awards. I noticed one man who had possessed three millions of money while he was on earth, of which sum it could not be said he had used one hundred wisely or usefully, and he went away, not joyfully, but unmurmuringly, when he was awarded by the ministers of the Statue one ducat per week. But now comes the strangest thing. I could not help watching this man, whom I had known in life, to ascertain what would be his social state in his new sphere. Strange to say, other men were willing to partake their fortunes with him, though there were many more deserving than he. But men liked to be seen walking and talking with this man, for they said, "He was once so rich so very rich in the other world; and it is still a credit and an honour to be acquainted with him." Such is the ineffable, ineradicable baseness of mankind. Ellesmere. Has not the air suddenly become chilly, or is it that Mauleverer talks chilliness into our blood ? It does not seem to have entered into Mauleverer's head .that man might naturally feel some pity for this quondam rich man ; but, upon the whole, the story has a very pretty viii. 1 Bealnwlr. 19? moral to it very superior, Sir Arthur, to what can be found in Milverton's fables or mine, or even in yours. The boat was now rowed to the shore ; we took a last look at the beautiful reflection of the moon and stars in the still water, and were then driven home to Worth- Ash ton. In the course of the evening the reading com- menced, and was as follows : 0f CHAPTER XVI. REALM AH' S FAILURE. No doubt the Romans were a great people. Their tombs, temples, columns, roads, bridges, and aque- ducts attest that. The world (as far as it was then known) conquered by them attests that ; nor less the splendid reconquest of the barbarians by Roman laws, manners, and customs ; and of the barbarian tongues by the Latin language. But, though masters of the world, they were not perfect men of the world, else, amid the innumer- able divinities they worshipped, they would not have omitted the great god Stupidity. They could wor- ship a goddess, the protectress of sewers ; they had even a goddess who took charge of such humble things as lime-kilns ; but to him who rules the world, and before whom Fortune herself gives way, they raised no altars and burnt no incense. There are people, even in modern times, who are as remiss as the Romans were in appreciating the power of this great authority amongst the sons of men. But the anxious father, if wise, and the fond mother, if 198 foreseeing, would not pray that their child should be clever ; but that all the loveliness and strength of stupidity might encircle him, like a halo, from his cradle to his grave. A better word than stupidity might be found. It is not so much the stupid man as the limited man, the man of routine, the man who does not indulge in ideas, who does not believe much in anything or any- body, who will have an easy and a happy life. For want, however, of a better word, we must accept the word stupidity ; and I say again, it derogates much from the sagacity of the Romans to find that they had no god, the lord and patron of Stupidity. The only way of accounting for this oversight is, that the Romans, finding that all men favoured what was stupid, thought that they need not have any particular goddess to protect a thing like stupidity, which is as strong, as universal, and as prevailing as the circumambient air. It cannot be said that all modern men have been as unobservant as the Romans in this respect. Did not the first Napoleon cherish a just dislike of ideologists, as he called them, the men whom stupidity would least have favoured ? And did Schiller ever write anything with more force and wisdom in it, than when he said " Against stupidity, the gods themselves are powerless ? " Our poor hero, Realmah, possessed by an idea, was now to learn what potency there is in that great divinity whose claims we have been advocating. The people of the town of Abibah were much dis- appointed at the conduct of Realmah after his escape from Abinamanche. They expected that he would be a frequent speaker in their public assemblies ; that he would take a leading part in the conduct of the war which was to be waged against the Phelatahs ; viii.] |lmlmaij. 199 and, in short, that he would be an active, energetic, public man. He was nothing of the kind. All they heard of him was, that he lived a life in the woods, accompanied by one of his foster-brothers, by some of his personal followers, and by fishermen belonging to the tribe of his Ainah. But never since their life as a nation began had there been a man who worked so devotedly for them as Realmah was working at this present time. It is necessary to go back a little in the narrative, in order to understand what was the nature of Realmah's work. While he was in prison in the town of Abinamanche, there was one visitor who passed a great deal of time with the young man ; and, strange to say, it was the ambassador whose projects he had defeated, and who might have been expected to be his bitterest enemy. But this am- bassador, whose name was Koorali, appreciated thoroughly the subtle intellect that had vanquished him. Almost in the words of Ossian, he said to himself, " I love a foe so great. His soul is bright. His arm is strong. His battles are full of fame. But the little soul is a vapour that hovers round the marshy lake. It never rises on the green hill, lest the winds should meet it there." It will be remembered that, in the account of Realmah's escape, it was mentioned that he was always bound at night. Koorali generally paid a visit to Realmah at that time in the morning when these bonds were taken off. Sometimes he antici- pated that time ; and, by his own authority, caused the bonds to be taken off earlier than they otherwise would have been. A similar kindness he showed in providing that Realmah should be well cared for, and kindly treated by his guards. In fact, Koorali did everything that he could to oblige and gratify the prisoner. 2OO CHAP Realmah, however, for a long time distrusted him. The conversations between Koorali and Realmah were mainly directed by the former to one topic, namely, the apprehended invasion of the Northmen ; and Realmah at last perceived that this was the sub- ject which Koorali had most at heart, and that he came to him for present sympathy, and possibly for future aid. One day that Koorali had been more than usually communicative, he conveyed to Realmah in a few words the whole extent of his fears and projects. He said, " We are all slaves, your people as well as mine, if these people of the North come down upon us. They have swords which cut through ours as ours do through our children's, and javelins against which it is useless to hold up our puny shields. " I never believed in allies. There was the alliance we made with the Maranahs against the Koolmen. What happened ? We conquered the Koolmen ; arid the very next summer, it was over the country of the Koolmen that the Maranahs, fearing no resistance, marched to attack us. Honest and useful alliances are almost impossible things with us. I own I sought to subjugate you for a time, in order to save us all from the otherwise irresistible enemy. It might have been better to confide in you ; but who readily makes confidences after he has seen three and twenty harvests grow ripe, and whiten in the sun ? " Such was the substance of Koorali's conversation with the prisoner. Realmah, left in solitude, had little else to think of but these strange discourses. "What are these weapons of the men of the North ?" he said to himself. " Can wood be hardened ? No. Can earth be hardened ? No ; we bake this earth, but it only becomes brittle." He pondered over these ideas night after night. VIH.] amar. 201 The confinement of a prison creates sleeplessness. His guards, to while away the time, sang songs. One of the songs they sang was a drinking song, and ran thus " All joys to enhance, \Vith song and with dance The flower-dew we cull." The air reminded him of another song which he had known as a child : " Your heart's desire By stone and fire Will surely beam brightly upon you ; By fire and stone The victory's won, And your foes lie bleeding beneath you. " This poor doggrel had been the song of some furious old woman of the tribe of the Sheviri, who had lost her only son in battle, and whose fury had always been held by her tribe to be prophetic. Amongst all nations, and during all periods of the world's history, there have been tacit agreements in regard to certain things which, it is universally held, are not right to be done in war. At the present time we do not think it right to poison wells : we should think it very base to endeavour to introduce disease into the enemy's camp. Now among these dwellers in lake cities, which, for the most part, were built of wood, it was a point of honour in warfare not to make use of fire as a means of destroying the enemy's habitations. I cannot but conjecture that the words of the prophetess meant that no reserve of this kind was to be maintained, but that all means of destruc- tion were to be employed against those wicked people who had slain her son. But see the irony of life those few frantic words may have been the means of altering the condition of nations in that period of the earth's h story. 202 amaj, [CHAP. Realmah, as by a sort of inspiration, said at once to himself, " That is it the prophetess is right. Have I not noticed masses of stone, or metal, or whatever they may be, which I am sure must have been burnt ? Nor I alone. What do we call them but heavenly missiles, things which we suppose have been hurled from the upper air by beings superior to ourselves, in their dread wars ? and have I not noticed, too, that there are stones which seem half-burnt to me ? A melted stone it is which gives the North its power." It is a dreadful thing to be driven by a great idea. The man who is so driven is never alone. The image of his goading thought sits beside him ; walks hand- in-hand with him ; leans over him to remind him of his presence, in the hours of his utmost joy ; and, even in his slumbers, takes care that he shall not forget its august and overpowering companionship. Better be the swineherd who, after his day's toil, eats his meal in peace, and goes to rest unthinkingly, than the man over whom broods the ever-present image of a great idea ; who is impatient of all thought, of all joy, of all sorrow, of all rest, that may interfere with the embodiment of that idea, which will for ever haunt him like a ghost until it is laid and quieted by being brought into action, and thus transformed into a living creature, to do its destined work henceforth amongst the sons of men. It needs but little more to say why Realmah with- drew himself from the haunts of his fellow-men. Day after day he and his followers collected stones of various kinds, which they placed together in heaps, putting like with like, and choosing only those of which the properties were unknown to them. Of course they were well acquainted with every kind of stone that could be worked into stone implements. The inhabitants of Abibah were subject not only to the spiritual influence of their priests but to those 20 earlier spiritual influences which take the form of wizardry and witchcraft. As may be imagined, there was a constant feud between the priests and the wizards some such feud as exists in all ages between the established person in any art or science and the interloper. The common people, however, preferred to have dealings with the wizards and the witches rather than with the priests. Now there was a wise woman in Abibah of great renown, whose name was Potochee ; and when Real- mah found that the spirits of his followers were flagging, as they soon did, he resolved to have recourse to Potochee, thinking that by judicious gifts he would be sure to command her influence in his favour. To the dismay of the Varnah he took away some of their household treasures and presented them to Potochee, taking care at the same time to say that he might have occasion shortly to consult her wisdom in regard to a difficult enterprise, of the good results of which he himself had no doubt whatever. It is the business of people who pretend to supernatural wisdom to make themselves very well acquainted with the affairs of this world ; and, for many weeks past, there was not a person in Abibah, except the Ainah, who was so thoroughly acquainted with Realmah's hopes and prospects as the Potochee. And she hated him. With that keen instinct that belongs to women, she knew as well as possible that Realmah despised her arts and her pretensions ; that he was merely seeking to make use of her for a purpose ; and that the general enlightenment which this young man would develop, if he could, was essentially hostile to witches and to wizards. She resolved that he should have a killing answer to his inquiry. When, therefore, in the pre- sence of his foster-brother and some of his principal 204 Uamar. [CHAP. workmen, Realmah demanded of Potochee whether the enterprise he had in hand would be successful, she said, that of late the moon and the stars, and the ripples on the waters, had all given forth significant omens of a malignant nature. She would, however, make further inquiries. Did his enterprise relate to any one of the principal elements ? Was it an enter- prise of air, of water, or of earth ? Realmah replied, of earth. Then Potochee made her incantations, and burnt her sweet-smelling herbs, and sat silent for a time wrapped in profound meditation. At last she spoke, and said it was not for her to say sweet and pleasant things when superior powers spoke otherwise. If it was an enterprise of earth that he was engaged in, it was her duty to tell him that she could hear, though he could not, the mocking laugh of the demons of the earth, who sought to bring him and his deluded followers down to them. Had they not noticed the blue flame which the incense had sent forth ; and was it ever known that good fortune followed that fatal colour? "Abstain, abstain," she exclaimed ; " fly, while yet you may, from the delu- sions that beset you." And Realmah withdrew from her presence his followers dismayed and terrified, and he himself mortified to the uttermost, and regretting that he had not been more profuse in his gifts. Thus Realmah remained alone in the world, sup- ported only by his own profound conviction of the truth, by his own determined tenacity of purpose, and by the unbounded belief in him, and ineffable affection for him, of his slave-wife, the Ainah. The malicious prophecy of Potochee did not fail to exercise the evil influence that might have been expected over the followers of Realmah. The day after the utterance of her prophecy Realmah went with a heavy heart to the scene of his daily labours. 205 His forebodings were verified. Not one of his fol- lowers was to be seen. He wandered disconsolately hither and thither ; but no one made his appearance. Realmah was standing at the side of a pit in which had been placed the stones that he had thought most likely to yield metal. The other stones had been collected in heaps ; but these, as most precious, had been buried in a pit; and at the end of each day's labours had been covered with leaves. These leaves he had removed, and he was gazing into the pit when the Ainah arrived, bringing his usual mid-day meal. She stood opposite to him, looking up into his face, and was glad to perceive for she knew every shade in that countenance full well that he was more angry than sorrowful. Now a'nger, as the Ainah knew, was a thing much easier to deal with than sorrow, espe- cially in such a nature as Realmah's, which was inclined to humorousness he being one of those persons whom you can generally cause to perceive the absurdity of their passions. " The boundless idiots ! " he exclaimed. " The unwise man who trusted to a witch," said the Ainah, smiling. " The abominable hag !" exclaimed Realmah. " The poor dear Varnah and her pipkins," replied the Ainah. " And her fan of feathers," said Realmah. "And her red cloth." "And her jade knife." " And her two mats which," replied the Ainah, "we were kept so many weary winter hours to work at." And then they burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, making the wood re-echo with their mer- riment. Both Realmah and the Ainah were attached to the Varnah, and fully recognised her merits ; but it struck them as a thing unspeakably ludicrous, if the Varnah 206 JUuintclIj. [CHAP. could but know that her cherished possessions, which she loved so dearly, had been used in vain to pro- pitiate a witch, and to induce her to give a favourable prophecy as regarded the result of endeavouring to melt what the Varnah would have called some useless stones. The poor Varnah had thought, when this property was carried away from her by Realmah, that it was for some politic reason, for she had great faith in his policy, though not in his common-sense, and that they had been taken from her only to return, as she hoped, in the shape of more magni- ficent presents. After they had indulged in their laughter, the Ainah drew Realmah away, and, sitting down not far from their much-prized pit, said many things to him cheering and encouraging. They talked over their plans for recovering the services of their followers, and afterwards spoke upon higher and happier themes of their great love for one another, and their confidence in each other. I am afraid that the Ainah was not so unhappy as she should have been at the temporary check to Realmah's enterprise, for it gave her one more day to be alone with him the last she ever had. In the course of that evening, and early the next morning, she was very busy with her tribe. She could tell them in how many cases Potochee's fore- bodings had failed ; she pointed out that Realmah's answer to the witch had not been quite correct, for was it not an enterprise in which flame was more concerned than earth ? She held out to them what great things Realmah could do for their tribe, if he became a powerful chief; and that whether he failed or not in this enterprise he would be equally grateful to them. It might be a young man's folly, she said ; but he would never be satisfied until it was proved to be a folly. And then he would be himself 207 again \\'ise in council, dexterous in war, and, above all things, a lover of the poor and despised tribe of fishermen. She did not prevail with all those who had hitherto been employed ; but she did with some of them, and she enlisted new recruits. Realmah, too, was not idle. He was one of those men whose personal influence is very great. No man was quite the same, after having had an earnest con- versation with Realmah, as he had been before. Realmah's foster-brother, Omki, was a timid, super- stitious man ; but, after being well talked to by the young chief, he was prepared to endure whatever evil fate the demons of the earth were ready to inflict upon him. Besides, whatever happened to him, it would be in company with his dear Realmah ; and to be with Realmah was the greatest happiness of this faithful friend and follower. On the morrow there was as numerous a band of workmen as there had been before; and they worked apparently with good-will. This, however, did not last. The malign influence of Potochee was always hovering over these superstitious men. A general carelessness pervaded the work. The stones were not kept distinct. Great effort was not made to find them in distant places. The firewood was chosen carelessly. Indeed, throughout the whole work, that spirit of indifference prevailed which is the sure con- sequence of anticipated failure. Still the work, though done in a very slovenly manner, was not abruptly broken off by any further desertion on the part of Realmah's followers. The Ainah continued to meet Realmah almost daily in the woods. She was commissioned by the Varnah to bring him his food, and she assisted him in giving directions to his people to collect the mast from the locasta-tree, and the firewood, which made so8 JUalmafr. [CHAP. an excuse in his home for their wanderings. There, too, they gave utterance to their fervid love. There she heard, day by day, of his disappointments, and, notwithstanding these, of his undaunted hope. Each day her wanderings became more difficult to her for the sufferings and privations she had under- gone during her escape with him had implanted the seeds of fatal disease ; and the Ainah, though Real- mah knew it not, was dying. Ever intent upon his object, and exerting himself more and more to counter- act the lukewarmness of his 'followers, Realmah did not notice the ravages which disease was making in his Ainah, or, if he did notice them, thought that she, like himself, was growing pale and thin from anxiety as to the success of their enterprise. At last, with great labour, he and his men had brought together huge heaps of stones, and large quantities of wood for their fire; and they awaited now, w T ith anxious hearts, the trial and result of their grand experiment. It was a lovely day on which that experiment was first tried. Can there be anything more beautiful than a wood, teeming as it does with infinite forms of sheltered life, and yet so quiet, so grave, so solemn ? The creatures of the wood had become accustomed to Realmah and his men. It was one of the deep superstitions of Realmah that, if he would succeed, no form of life should be hostile to him. He carefully avoided all quarrels with his fellow-creatures of what- ever degree. He laid it down as a rule not to injure even the smallest creature that makes pretence to life. The inaralah, a larger kind of squirrel, with a nascent wing, played about in the trees above his head. The poolmens, a sort of rabbit that existed at that period of the world, and had a sharp claw, frisked to and fro. Occasionally a harmless snake glided hither and thither, not far from those silently working men, with whose doings one might almost fancy it |lealmalr. 209 had become amused and interested. There was a tame dog (one of those that do not bark, like the prairie dogs of modern times) which accompanied the Ainah in her wanderings, and looked on at the proceedings of the men with even more than the usual canine gravity, as if it fully understood the whole drift and purpose of Realmah and his band of followers. The experiment was tried, and it was not success- ful. The whole day long they plied the fire, and left it burning late in the evening. The next morning the wood had burnt away ; but the ironstones (ii ironstones they were) remained unconsumed and un- changed. Realmah's followers had been very true to him, and had kept his secret well, as long as there was a hope of success ; but now that there was failure, they could not restrain their gossiping ; and all that Realmah had been attempting of late, was noised throughout the city on the very evening of the day that had wit- nessed his failure. CHAPTER XVII. REALMAH'S DEPRESSION. ONE of the notable persons in the city of Abibah was a man of good rank, of the name of Condore. This man had easily attained a high reputation by always prophesying evil, and by uttering criticism of a damaging kind upon all occasions when any great effort was made by other people. He it was who had put down the invention of wooden forks, which some ingenious man in the city had proposed, instead of fingers, to eat their food with. " What insanity," Condore said, "it would be to provide every pei son P [CHAP. L with a sharp implement at a time when he was likely to be excited by meat and drink, and to be especially quarrelsome!" And the idea of eating with forks was at once discarded. If a man was building a house, or forming a piece of furniture, Condore was always ready to pronounce that it would be a failure ; and as, in this world, failure rather than success is the rule, Condore was very frequently right, and indeed had secured to him- self the appellation of " Condore the judicious." So thoroughly had this chieftain attained the character of depreciating all the efforts of his fellow- townsmen, that a verb had been formed from his name ; and when any enterprise was depreciated by adverse criticism, it was said in the town of Abibah that it had been " condored." Once, however, he had erred by approving something. An ingenious man had proposed a bridge of boats instead of drawbridges as the means of access to the city. This, though a feasible scheme, had failed in execution ; and the unfortunate Condore had found himself pledged to the approval of something that had failed. This approval had injured him for a time with his fellow-townsmen ; but he took care not to repeat the error, and it could never afterwards be said of him that he had bestowed his august approval upon any plan, whether wise or foolish. It may easily be imagined what a thorn this man had been in the side of Realmah. When Realmah had proposed that a small army of observation should go to support the main army that went as allies to the Phelatahs, Condore had pronounced that this was a mistake, just as he had pronounced that the sending any army at all was a mistake. He was much vexed with Realmah for having proved to be right. Great, therefore, was his joy when it was found out that Realmah had been baking stones without any effect. VIIL] |icalma(y, 2 1 1 Poor Realmah's efforts were very critically con- sidered throughout the city, and Condore formed one of many a group assembled to discuss Realmah's doings. Some said he was foolish others that he was mad ; and it seemed to be generally admitted that his having obtained that order of merit, the blue shemar, had completely turned his head. Rcalmah returned to his home in a state of the deepest depression. When he arrived there he was sent for by his uncle, the chief of the East, who rea- soned with the young man in a very kindly manner. He said, " Chiefs must be chiefs. They must attend councils. They must make speeches. Their business must be the ruling over men. Work with the hands was not their work. Doubtless Realmah had some meaning in what he had done (the old Chief had a secret belief in the sagacity of his nephew) ; but was it worth doing at the loss of so much reputation ? Years would have to pass before Realmah would stand upon the height tnat he had stood upon after succouring the troops in the flight from Abina- manche." Realmah withdrew from the old man's presence much depressed, but not the less resolved ; though, if possible, more thoroughly convinced than ever how dangerous it is for a man to be one little step in advance (in thought) of his fellow-men. Realmah did not find much comfort at home. The Varnah had never expected that her husband would show much common sense in anything he under- took. She regretted the time he had lost and the ill- repute into which he had got as so much distinct loss of property ; but she was neither particularly kind nor unkind to him. The beautiful Talora, for her part, was deeply vexed. She had married Realmah for repute's sake ; and now, all that she had got was a lame man with a damaged reputation. While they p 2 212 ama, [CHAP, ate their meal together, she could not refrain from one or two covert sneers at him, speaking of people who thought they were wiser than others because they had odd crotchets in their minds which came to nothing. The Ainah did not say a word ; but once during the meal, she stole her hand into his, and sought by a soft pressure to assure him of her entire belief in him. It is needless to say that Realmah had by this time discovered what kind of character Talora was, and how great had been his mistake. She was a very difficult person to live with, being pre-eminently tiresome, and never useful. She would comment upon a burden, saying that it was too small or too large, or that it was put awry upon the back, or that it should not have been taken up at all ; but she never lifted a little finger to assist in carrying it herself. Moreover, nothing could be done rightly that was not begun under her auspices. Shakespeare, who knew all forms of tiresomeness in men and women, has pointed out this one in the tragedy of " Julius Csesar," where he makes Brutus say of Cicero : " For he will never follow anything That other men begin. " She attained to great power in the household, for the really useful and kind-hearted Varnah, having been accustomed to be much praised for her doings, was at first astonished, then grieved, and finally rendered submissive, by Talora's continued stream of polite depreciation. The Ainah, for Realmah's sake, endured the caprices, and submitted patiently to the rebukes, of the wayward Talora. Realmah himself, being especially anxious not to visit the result of his own mistaken choice upon the object of that choice, was always courteous and kind to the spoilt beauty. And thus such people have their way. 213 Talora could be very pleasant when she was pleased, for she had some talent for social intercourse, though not of a kind adapted to domestic life. The wives retired to their apartments, while Real- mah sat motionless for hours before the fire, looking at it steadfastly as if he felt that fire was the creature which he had not yet sufficiently mastered. The cold morning light began to break into the room when the Ainah with a soft step entered, and threw her arms round his neck. " Heed them not," she said, "you will yet succeed. There is something in me " (she alluded to her deadly illness which she knew, but he did not) "which makes me a prophetess." Realmah replied, " ' One dog howls for nothing ; and the whole neighbourhood is alive with howling.' Or shall we quote another proverb, dearest Lufra ? 'The dogs bark loudly together; but a wise man speaks softly, and, not at all, except to another wise man.' I am resolved to recommence to-morrow." So saying, he dismissed her. CHAPTER XVIII. THE LOVES OF REALMAH AND THE AINAH. I SUPPOSE that all those who have ever been in love feel that very little has been said or written that adequately represents what they have felt. This love is a wonderful thing ; and we can never cease, when we are bystanders, to be astonished at the phenome- non, that one human being should appear to another to include all the beauties and virtues of humanity ; and that the love of the whole human race could, in no measure, satisfy him, or her, if the love of the one person loved was wanting. 214 |UllInmjJ. [CHAP. Although lovers will not be satisfied with what has been said about love, we must admit that a few fine things have been said. For instance, that man spoke with some experience who said, that the test of loving is, that being with the loved person all talk is needless, and that the silence, which is embarrassing sometimes in the presence of the nearest friends and the dearest relatives, is perfect ease, and harmony, and comfort in the presence of the one beloved. The Roman poet, too, has well described the feel- ings of a lover for his mistress, when he says " Illam, quicquid agit, quoquo Vestigia movit Componit furtim, subsequiturque decor ; Seu solvit crines, fusis decet esse capillis, Seu compsit, comptis est veneranda comis. Urit seu Tyria voluit procedere palla, Urit seu nivea Candida veste venit." Elksmere. I must at all hazards interrupt: Milverton once quoted those lines before; and, after long and anxious consultation with Ainsworth's Latin Dictionary, I furnished a translation which has been much admired by great scholars : " Whether she wears a bonnet that is like a coal-scuttle ; or whether she claps on a little platter that is attached to the back of her head : whether, gracefully, she trails after her in the muddy streets an ample sweep of flowing drapery ; or whether, succinct and neat, she trips along in Bloomer cos- tume : whether she allows her beautiful hair to fall in cork- screw ringlets round her enchanting face ; or whether she throws it all back, and, with the aid of alien hair, forms a huge and overweighting lump behind : she is equally fas- cinating, equally tiresome, and equally disposed to look in at all the haberdashers' shops." [Milverton resumed.] Steele, also, did not ill describe, though briefly, the charm of being with a woman whom he greatly admired when he said, "That to be much w. ; th her was in itself a liberal education." 215 It was not ill said, either, by that man who ex- claimed, " Ko\v much happier it is in absence to think of thee, than to be with any other person ! " Certainly there seems a good deal to be said for that theory ascribed to Plato, that the soul is dual, and that one half of it wanders about in the form of a man, and the other in the form of a woman. When these two parts meet, a thing which occurs but rarely, there is doubtless supreme felicity, as was the case with Realmah and the Ainah. But when severance comes, then the felicity must be amply avenged by the corresponding misery of desolation. But oh ! what cruel tricks does love play ; and what mistakes and what misfortunes are comparable to those which are caused by its perversities ! Granted that all the rest of human life were raised into a higher and a happier stage of being, love alone would leave the human race nearly as unhappy as it is. Suppose that climate, instead of being the dire thing (to be ever watched and contended with) which it is over the greater part of this globe, was entirely harmonious and beautiful : suppose, indeed, that everywhere and at all times it was like that which prevails during those few days in an American autumn, when serenity seems to rule over the land; when it is neither too hot nor too cold ; when ''never winds blow loudly ; " and when all Nature, often so harsh, seems to subside into an unwonted lovingness and kind- ness still, if the loving heart were not at peace, small would be the gain thereof. Granted too, that men could worship the Supreme Being without en- gaging to define His nature and His attributes, and to persecute all those who differ from them in the minutest particular when defining what is undefinable, and explaining what is inexplicable : granted too, that the life of man in great cities was not as inexpressibly sordid as it is, but that all men, from the lowest to 2 1 6 |icalmsjj. [CHAP. the highest, were well housed and well cared for ; that men were fed without the slaughter of the animal creation ; that there were none of those excessive and hideous contrasts which now exist between the states of the rich and of the poor ; and that the office of ruler, in any form or shape, was taken with reluctance, and only from a sense of duty, the ruling man feeling he was only the servant of those over whom he had the sway : granted all this, granted an Arcadia, granted an Atlantis, or any state of being for mankind that the wisest and most benevolent men in their juvenile dreams alas ! only in their juvenile dreams have imagined : granted that the state of things pictured by the poet existed here (it may exist in some happier planet) ; that " Qui Sdegno non s'accencle, E soggionar non sa ; La Colpa non offende, Trova 1' Error pieta. " L'Inganno qui non ride Nel mascara del Ver ; Fra noi ciascun divide L'Affanno ed il Piacer." granted that men loved their neighbours, and did not hate their enemies ; that ill-natured criticism was not abundant ; and that Christianity was not a name, but a reality, still, if Cupid were left to play his strange, horrid pranks, the happiness of the world would by no means be assured. Where the greatest error and mistakes arise is in forgetting that love is a thing of infinite variety. At the moment I am writing, there are hundreds of ingenious and clever people weaving wonderful love tales to amuse the mind ; but the love they portray is, for the most part, of the same kind. They exhaust their ingenuity in framing subtle obstacles to the fulfilment of the love, but they seldom dwell with much ingenuity on the different kinds of love. vni ] gamnrag* 2 1 7 I have been led to make these reflections while considering the love of Realmah for the Ainah, which was of a most singular description. To use a common expression, which is very forcible, he worshipped the very ground upon which she trod. He found with her alone the exquisite joy of a perfect companion- ship. He saw, and even exaggerated, all the grace and all the beauty, whatever they were, that she pos- sessed. He admired her when she spoke. He was happy with her when she was silent. Whatever she did or said was pleasing in 'his eyes. 1 To her there was no need of long explanations from him. She understood him at once, and her soul was a twin- soul to his. They had none of the pretty quarrels and playful diversities of opinion which so often make love amusing to lovers ; but she was sister, and counsellor, and companion, and comforter, par- taking every hope, every trouble, every sorrow that was his. The Ainah possessed one very rare accomplish- ment : she was an admirable talker. How rare that accomplishment is, may be seen from the fact that throughout the civilized world, at the present time, there are more great musicians, great poets, and great painters, than there are consummate talkers. This man repeats profusely; that man is dry and curt : one man is over-explanatory and indulges in parentheses, which are the death of good talk ; another is unsympathetic, or egotistical, and his talk degene- rates into an oration chiefly about himself and his own doings ; while a third contrives to turn all con- 1 The Sheviri, a nation rich beyond measure in proverbs, had one or two which illustrate the statement in the text, or its converse. " The man you hate cannot take up his bit of meat with his fingers but you hate him more." And again this one "Akbal jumped into the water; but no man said that Akbal wos wet " meaning that a favourite can do anything without offence. [CHAP. versation into mere argumentation or dispute. When we read of the remarkable women who have be- witched the world the Aspasias, Cleopatras, the Ninons d'Enclos we may simply conclude, not that they were much more beautiful than other women, but that they talked better. This art has an especial attraction for men who, like Realmah, are somewhat melancholy. The beauty of it too is, that it does not need to have wonderful subjects to discourse about. It is beyond and above all erudition ; and the commonest domestic tales are brightened up and made something of by a good talker. There are proverbs about speech being silver and silence being gold ; but at the most they only apply to the conduct of business, or to the talk of dull people, for good talk is ever one of the choicest things in the world, and wins all people who come within its sphere. Now the Ainah, as we know, was not only profoundly ignorant, but even vulgar in her language; nevertheless her sweet and nimble talk, her sense of humour and of pathos, made the listener forget her vulgarities of speech. No one could be more cautious than Realmah of showing how much he was enchanted with the Ainah's conversation. When he returned home after his day's work, if he had not seen the Ainah, he went first to the Varnah, listened to all she had to say about the furniture that had been spoiled, and the deficiency that there was in fuel or in food ; he then listened to the pretty nothings or the cross comments of Talora ; and then afterwards sauntered into the apartments of the Ainah, to be solaced by the wit and humour which flowed from her discreet and softly-speaking lips. The Ainah, too, was equally careful to conceal that she had any pleasure in his society. She was not like the favourite slave of whom the poet says VIIL] jtramag, 2 j 9 " Abra was ready, ere I named her name ; And when I called another, Abra came." On the contrary, the Ainah never sought Real mail's society, or showed any particular pleasure in it ; and so there was a house in which there were three wives, and next to no jealousy. The Varnah knew that she was transcendent in the art of housekeeping, and looked upon all the others as children of whom she had to take care. Talora knew that she was beauti- ful, and cared for nothing else than that this should be acknowledged. The Ainah knew that she was loved, and that naturally sufficed for her. There would probably be no such thing as jealousy if souls were visible, for we should then find that the love of any person for any other is so completely a peculiar relation between those two only, that there would be nothing for any third person to be jealous of. We are speaking now, of course, of the higher kinds of love. I have said above, that the love of Realmah for the Ainah was singular in its character. It was singular, because it was so great, considering that there was so much in it which was but fraternal in its nature. The truth is, that there was a little too much re- semblance in their characters. They were both very subtle persons. The Ainah, as well as Realmah, had that peculiar characteristic which is best expressed in a Spanish word, " Longanimidad" that is, that they were both of them people of great mental endurance ; being long-continuing, patient, quiet haters, or lovers, or sufferers. They were alike also in the breadth of view with which they regarded any question, and in their freedom from being influenced by the opinions of the comparatively inferior people who surrounded them. They were thus a little too much alike to fulfil the condition which, according to Plato, has been laid down for perfect happiness in love. 220 [CHAP. Not that there is not always an immense difference between the masculine and the feminine soul, even when they are apparently cast in the same mould. Realmah did not know all this. In fact, he was one of those men who all their lives remain very ignorant of the nature of women. We have seen how deluded he was in his estimate of Talora's merits. But then great men are so easily deceived : indeed, you may often measure the greatness of the man by his liability to be deceived. Not if his attention is aroused ; not if he brings the powers of his mind to bear upon the question ; but, in .the ordinary course of life, he is very apt to believe too much both in men and women. Realmah, as I have said above, was happily uncon- scious of these fine distinctions and subtleties in love. He thought his Ainah perfection, and never ima- gined that a more joyous and more resonant nature a nature that did not quite partake his aspirations, though it might sympathise with them a nature that would even have permitted her sometimes, playfully and tenderly, to laugh at him and make fun of him would, after all, have been a nature more fitted to amuse and distract him, and to lighten the burden of his cares. The joy and comfort, however, that his Ainah was to Realmah at this critical period of his life were unspeakable. While he was at work in the forest he could, from the spot where his works were situated, obtain a view of a slight eminence which lay between his works and the town of Abibah. Evening after evening for, alas ! the Ainah began to be unable to come in the day-time the descending sun threw its yellow rays upon the summit of that eminence ; and a figure, which most people would not have thought remarkable for its grace or its beauty, made its way over the hill, walking in a certain resolute fashion-- VIM. almal. 221 the Ainah having husbanded whatever little strength was left to her to appear strong to Realmah. That figure in his eyes, if in those of no other man, was pre-eminently attractive. He always paused in his work to regard it ; and when it approached him, he looked to be cheered by the smiling welcome, and the truthful blue eyes, full of tender encouragement, which said to him, in that unwritten language well known amongst lovers, "If you have succeeded, I come to rejoice, as none other can rejoice, in your success ; and, if you have failed, I come to tell you that your failure is only the failure of to-day, and that to-rnorrow must be brighter." It was a thing worth noticing, to see the cautious, wistful glance which the Ainah threw at the works, and then at her husband's face, before she spoke to him, making up her mind as to the tenor of the few loving remarks which with low and sweet voice she would make to Realmah upon the labours of the day her hand, now feverish and tremulous, softly clasped in his. It is a bold assertion to make ; but, such is the dulness of perception created by familiarity, that it may be asserted that we are often as unobservant of the change in the bodies of those we live with, as we are of their varying states of minds and of the movements of their affections. Realmah, no doubt, noticed that the Ainah did not come in the day-time ; but he did not attribute this to her failing strength, which prevented her from wandering about with him for hours. If he had been asked the cause of this change, he would have said that, though she was as much interested as ever in the result, the details of the work had probably by this time become rather wearisome to her. And he would perhaps have moralized upon the superior perseve- rance of men to women in dealing with these details 222 ealnutl. [CHAP. little imagining that to be with him was always pleasure enough for the Ainah ; and that superintend- ing the collection and distribution of these stones and the firewood was an employment at which she would never have grown weary as long as he was by her side. CHAPTER XIX. REALMAH'S SUCCESS. WE left Realmah intent upon recommencing his work on the morrow. Wiser thoughts, however, took pos- session of his mind, and he resolved, before he com- menced his own especial work, to regain, if possible, the good opinion of his countrymen. Deeply deli- berating upon the folly of mankind, he came to the conclusion that he must maintain his influence with his nation by the ordinary arts of statesmen if he would successfully undertake any new invention. Wherever there are few real distinctions amongst mankind it is especially necessary to invent conven- tional distinctions. The chieftains therefore of the Sheviri were particularly careful by a composed ges- ture, by gravity of speech and solemnity of demeanour, to show that they were different from other men, and so to maintain and dignify their high position. When there are real distinctions amongst men, this is less necessary. For instance, in more civilized life, when a man is a distinguished scholar, or an eminent mathematician, or a profound lawyer, he need hardly care much about the dignity or the grace of his demeanour. He has his just influence from the special knowledge which he possesses. Realmah, however, had to win the regard of his countrymen by the arts that were usually employed by their chiefs. Some weeks passed by before he 223 accomplished this result ; but at last he did accom- plish it, and began to feel himself strong enough in the good opinion of those about him to recommence his great work. Before doing so, however, he thought it prudent to communicate, in a vague way, his hopes and aims to several of his friends. He did not tell them that he hoped to melt stones into metal ; but he mentioned that he had some ideas which might be wise, or might be foolish, but which he must endea- vour to prove, and which had reference to improving their defences. He met with little encouragement ; but he felt that he had at any rate told enough of his plan to prevent for the future any outbreak of exces- sive ridicule and hostility in the way of criticisms. He took care to promise that, when he had made some more experiments, he would open his mind fully to his friends if there should be anything worth asking their advice about. He had come to the conclusion, as we know, that his fires had been utterly insufficient He now resolved to form them underground. For this pur- pose he dug a round pit, cementing it as well as he could with clay, formed an adit to it communicating with the surface of the ground, and then endeavoured to burn some of the stones which he had collected. This experiment was not successful ; but he observed that he had produced a much fiercer fire. He now resolved to pay still greater attention to his fuel, of which he prepared large stacks carefully dried. He also resolved to intermix the fuel with the stones, and he determined to try the next experiment upon a mucli larger scale. This time the result was different. He succeeded in getting up and maintaining such a degree of heat as had never yet been accomplished in that part of the world. For five days and nights he kept up his furnace ; and, finally, he banked in the fire from the top by putting on more stones and by [CHAP covering it all, to two feet of depth, with tenacious clay, leaving a small aperture by way of a chimney. When the glowing mass had become cool, which did not take place for several days, the pit was uncovered and laid bare, and at the bottom of it there was found a considerable quantity of metal that had run toge- ther. Realmah felt certain that his great problem was now solved. The Ainah had been assiduous in her attentions to him during the critical days which this experiment had occupied. She was present at the uncovering of the pit, and was the first person to whom he triumphantly show r ed the result of his long- continued labours. Forgetting their habitual reserve, and unmindful of the various comments that might be made upon their conduct, the two lovers embraced each other fondly. They then proceeded home in triumph. But alas ! what are the triumphs of men ? Realmah saw in the success of this experiment the safety of the South from the attacks of the North, the preservation of his native city, and the ascendency of his race. But that very day, as they approached the draw- bridges of Abibah, the Ainah, dearer to him than all the metals in the world, dearer than city, or race, or empire, or his own great idea, fainted in his arms, and as he laid her down upon the ground beside the gate, a thin stream of blood trickled from those lips which only a short six months ago he had hardly dared to kiss, and which for him contained all the joy, the private personal joy, that life was capable of giving. Her end was rapidly approaching : he carried her to her apartment hours passed away, and his hand remained in hers ; but, sublimely prudent to the last, Realmah, who knew how much he should lose in the estimation of his nation if he should show any exces- sive affection for a lowly girl, one of the tribe of the viii.] amar. 225 despised fishermen, concealed nis agony when her end approached, and when, amidst many friends of her own, and his other wives, she breathed her last. Just before she died, their eyes met, and in the meeting of those eyes was told the unutterable love each bore to the other. Realmah moved from the room with a composed step, and gave orders for such a funeral as became the Ainah of a man of his rank. It would not do to say that Realmah never smiled again ; but it might be true to say that he hereafter designed his smiles, and never finished them. Henceforward he lived but for ambition, and laboured on mainly in the hope of finishing the great work he had undertaken, and then rejoining the only being whom he had ever profoundly loved, and who had ever profoundly loved him. Untold ages have passed since the day when that grave young chief moved away from the deathbed of that lowly girl, with anguish gnawing at his heart, and supreme composure in his countenance ; and thousands of other men, like him, have trodden the same path, lost in an unutterable love for some one being who has gone, but all the more sternly resolved to fulfil a great career, and to tread down private sorrow in some absorbing idea for the public good. Realmah had hitherto merely been a clever man, taking an interest in public affairs : he was, from this moment, a profound and ambitious statesman. And thus it is that subtle Nature, always anxious to make the most of her children, weaves out of irreparable private sorrow great and abiding advantage for the public good. Mauleverer. This is as it should be. Some truth is told us here, or at least some portion of truth. Men, as Milver- lon well says, make their highest and best exertions simply to escape from themselves. Q 226 ^vmlmar, [CHAP. Milverton. I really do not think I said that. Mauleverer. Well, you implied as much ; but I go much further, and I say that when you see a man do anything very splendid you may look upon it as the result of disease, acted upon, and brought into full play, by unfortunate cir- cumstances. There is not a person here present, except perhaps Mrs. Milverton and myself, who is not a victim to some of the especial diseases which make men famous. I am afraid I cannot even make an exception for Mrs. Milverton. She cares too much to please people's tastes, and to make them comfortable. I could see how vexed you were yesterday at dinner, Mrs. Milverton, at the hare being overdone. By the way, I must impress upon you once for all, that if you will have a hare for dinner, you must take care that one person's mind is solely devoted to the dressing of it. No person is skilful enough, or watchful enough, to dress a hare and attend to other things. Ellesmere. For goodness' sake, stop this man ! Milver- ton upon the subject of war, Mauleverer upon cookery, Cranmer upon finance, Johnson upon the merits of the Scotch, are public nuisances. I must call you back to the subject, which is very interesting. What is the nature of my disease? Mauleverer. You have two of the worst diseases known restlessness and argumentativeness. Those two diseases brought into full action by unfortunate circumstances have made you the distinguished lawyer that you are. Sir Arthur. What is the matter with me, Mauleverer ? Mauleverer. Oh, you labour under a horrible disease, Sir Arthur. When I think of what you might have been, I feel the tenderest pity for you. You might have been a quiet, comfortable English gentleman devoted to yachting. And then to think of what you are, a great author and a distin- guished politician \ Cranmer. But his disease tell us what that is. Some- thing horrible, you say. Mauleverer. Yes ; Sir Arthur is a man full of imagina- tion, before whose mind there come all manner of beautiful ideas and fancies. He can't leave them alone, or enjoy 227 them quietly by himself, but must put them into form. This passion for form is his disease. [I observed that Sir Arthur looked very grave, and seemed as if he felt what Mauleverer said.] Milverton. And mine ? Mauleverer. Yours is lamentable, deplorable ; you are victimized by pity. You look around you, and see hundreds of things that might be improved, and you fondly think that it is your business to set to work and improve them. A more fatal disease cannot well be imagined. You must be an unhappy man, and yet you might have been so happy if you had attended only to metaphysics, and immersed your mind in the doctrine of " contradictory inconceivables." Mr. Cranmer. And what is my disease ? Mauleverer. The dot-and-carry-one disease. A painful love of accuracy, and a joy in doing long sums, possess your mind ; and these disorders you carry into public life. But when I say all these things you must understand that they are a mere playful way of putting it. I mean some- thing much more serious. Ellesmere. Mauleverer playful ! A hippopotamus festive ! Did I not tell you all that he would be dreadful to-day ? Mauleverer. No ; but what I really mean is, that there is in each of you too much, or too little, of some important component of the human body, and that this excess or de- ficiency is the source of disease. There are too many, or too few, carbonates, or sulphates, or sulphites, or sulphides, or some of these chemical things. Now, in poor Ellesmere, for instance Ellesmere. Don't " poor" me, sir. Nobody ever "poored" me before. It's actionable. Mauleverer. I will run the risk of damages. In poor Ellesmere, for instance, there is evidently too much phos- phorus. Little as I know of chemistry, I know that. Hence the superabundance of excitability. Ellesmere. I never wished so much to be a chemist as I do now. What are the component parts of adiposeness ? Will anybody tell me ? Q 2 228 jfijcalmajf. [CHAP Sir Arthur. I say, Mauleverer, this is really taking too material and physical a view. Mauleverer. I cannot help it. That is what it seems to tne. All greatness, I repeat, is but disease developed by unfortunate circumstances. Consider what pre-eminence is amongst mortals. It is generally success in a particular thing, occasioned by the development of the man's character and powers in one direction, to the great detriment of the man taken as a whole. Now, again, let us take Ellesmere for an 'instance. Ellesmere. The malice of this man is inconceivable. Why can't you take some one else as an example ? Take Sandy he is not married. Lady Ellesmere will never cease quoting the things you say against me. Mauleverer. Now, take Ellesmere, for instance. The unfortunate circumstances of his being bred to the Bar, acting upon his phosphoric restlessness, has developed his powers of objectiveness to the uttermost. He is always ready with some point to be taken against you, whatever you may say. How far this prevents his taking a large and just view of any question it is not for me to determine. You all know the kind of little dog which lives at a suburban villa, and scutters out, as hard as its little fat legs can carry it, to bark madly at every in-comer, and even at every passer-by. It makes no distinction between the good dogs'-meat man, who brings it its own food, and the prowling area sneak. The barking powers of that dog I admit : its judgment I deny; and it does, occur to me that its barking powers have been developed at the expense of its judgment. I can say no more that's my poor view of the case. Ellesmere. For goodness' sake, let us have some more reading. Our characters are slipping away from us under this man's cold, calm, cruel scrutiny. I have always heard it observed that very stout gentlemen are, as a rule, much better fellows than men of an ordinary size ; but that when they are ill-natured, they are far worse than the leanest of men. The reason is that they are so far advanced in wickedness that they have come to take a pleasure in malignity. It agrees with them : they grow fat upon it. The lean and hungry Cassius is a pleasant fellow compared 229 with Mauleverer. I shall go. Call me back, Sandy, when the conversation returns to a proper state, and Mauleverer is either silent or polite. [Exit Ellesmere. Mr. Mauleverer rubbed his fat hands, and uttered a low, wheezy, chuckling laugh, the nearest approach to merriment that I have ever observed in him. There was afterwards some general conversation, of which I did not catch the purport until I heard Mr. Maule- verer apologizing to Lady Ellesmere. Mauleverer. Forgive me. Lady Ellesmere, but Sir John does sometimes require a little putting down, and you are all too much afraid of him to do it. The unpleasant task, therefore, remains with me. Lady Ellesmere (who did not look very much pleased). When John is talking seriously, I believe there is no one who takes a larger and a broader view of his subject. I have heard that the late Lord Chancellor used to say - Mauleverer (taking Lady Ellesmere' s hand in his). Yes, my dear, yes ; we all know what a clever fellow your Sir John is ; but a little attack upon him will do him no harm. Do you think I didn't know by intuition what fun he was making of me this morning when I was toiling up that hill, and that he ran off on purpose to do so? Never fear, Lady Ellesmere ; he will come back soon, and be more brilliant than ever. Cranmer. There is a great deal of truth in what Maule- verer says. Sir John is always down upon one in a moment with an objection, sometimes before one has time to explain oneself. Lady Ellesmere. He keeps you all to the point. I am sure that John is really one of the most tolerant of men. Ellesmere (who had entered while she was speaking). That's right, my dear, always stick up for your husband, especially when he is in the wrong. So you have all, except my wife and Fairy, been talking against me during my absence ; but, as the heavy villain at the Surrey Theatre would say, " I will a-a-have my r-r-r-revenge." Mrs. Milverton. I wish to make a remark. Ellesmere. After Cranmer's celebrated remark, which lasted three-quarters of an hour, we all adopt this form, and say, " I wish to make a remark." Mrs. Milverton. I am very much displeased with all of you. You have been discussing nothing but characters and chemistry, and have been talking in the most cold-blooded and heartless manner about all manner of things, and not one of you has said a word about the death of the Ainah. I had read it all before, and I am not ashamed to say that I had a good cry over her death. I cannot think how Leonard could have been so cruel as to kill her so soon. Milverton. My dear, I cried too as much as men ever cry; but it could not be helped. The fact stared me in the face, for it was a fact to me ; and I was obliged to tell the story as it happened. Sir Arthur. I do think, Milverton, you might have let her live a little longer. Ellesmere. I repent me bitterly of all the jokes I ever ventured to make about her. Sir Arthur. Nobody can accuse me of being too much given to moralizing ; but I must draw forth a moral now. Ellesmere is sorry now, he says now that the Ainah is dead that he said anything against her, even in jest . " And she is gone ; sweet human love is gone ! 'Tis only when they spring to Heaven that angels Reveal themselves to you ; they sit all day Beside you, and lie down at night by you, .Who care not for their presence muse or sleep : And all at once they leave you, and you know them ! We are so fooled, so cheated ! " I have no doubt that Realmah tnought with remorse ho v little he had appreciated the poor Ainah, even when he had appreciated her the most. Ellesmere. I always rather liked the girl ; but, of course, when I made that remark Sir Arthur. Now don't explain away what you said, Ellesmere. It may be absurd to feel in that way about a vin.] amr. 231 character in a story ; but, for the moment, you really did feel what you said. Ellesmere. Well, upon my word, I really think I did. Sir Arthur. I need not work out my moral, but may just venture to remark that real, living people have their feelings too ; and if we were sometimes to think how soon they would die even the halest of them that thought might restrain us from many a depreciating remark. Mrs, Milverton. Ah, indeed it might, Sir Arthur. Lady Ellesmere. Yes, John. Listen to Sir Arthur, and become a more kind and considerate person. Ellesmere. It is all very well talking, but people in books do not tread upon our toes, whereas real flesh-and-blood people sometimes do, and that rather heavily. Milverton. But you see, Ellesmere, they too might draw the moral, and not tread upon your toes quite so heavily, reflecting that, after all, even great lawyers Mauleverer. Though the toughest of human species. Milverton. do eventually take their departure from this vale of tears and trouble. By the way, why should we always make it a vale of tears ? Are there no sorrows on the hill-tops ? Sir Arthur. Ruskin, in his eloquent way, would show you that there really is less sorrow on the hill-tops, and 'hat mountaineers, living in closer amity with nature, are better and heartier people than the money-making in- habitants of valleys. Cranmer. The way in which you have been talking about imaginary people is to me astonishing. Sir Arthur. You cannot ignore facts, Cranmer ; indeed you love them too much to do so. I maintain that most people's minds are fully as much filled with thoughts and feelings respecting persons in fiction as they are about persons in real life. Mauleverer. Perhaps so : especially if you add the per- sonages in history to the personages in fiction. Ellesmere. That is where Cranmer has such an advantage over us, and is able to do his sums without any foolish interruption. Di Vernon (to me far the most loveable of all Scott's 232 amgr, [CHAP. heroines), and Mignon, and Margaret in " Faust," and Beatrice, and Laura, and Mary Queen of Scots, and Medea, and Medora, and Rosalind, and Helen, and Cleopatra, and dozens of other fair women, never disturb the equal current of his thoughts. Upon my word, I do not know whether it would not be a good thing to banish them all. Good heroes and heroines are an especial nuisance. They are apt to make us dis- contented with ordinary mortals. I dare say though, the Ainah, poor dear, was peevish sometimes, and allowed her superiority to the other two to be plainly perceived, at least by Realmah, and that sometimes she was even intolerant of him. But I am very sorry she is gone. Sir Arthur. You seem to forget, Ellesmere, that the portraying of these heroes and heroines makes people strive to become like them, and so tends to improve the world. Ellesmere. So it may; but I think this does not com- pensate for the mischief of setting up a high ideal. Milverton. I do not agree with you, and would venture to contend that no writer has been able to depict people so good as good people really are, for the truth is no writer's canvas is large enough to do so. It is in length of patience, and endurance, and forbearance, that so much of what is good in mankind and womankind is shown; and you (the writer] have neither time nor space enough to show forth those high qualities as they are shovvn in life. Mr. Cranmer. I wonder what is to become of Realmah now ? We have seen him as a lover, and as an inventor ; I suppose he is to rise into some higher sphere. Ellesmere. Cranmer thinks he will become a man of business, the highest form of which human nature is capable. Mauleverer. You see in this story what you see in most stories that are truly told what a mistake it is to love anybody very much. Lady Ellesmere. I do not see anything of the kind, Mr. Mauleverer. I would a thousand times rather be Realmah now, than Realmah before he made his escape from Abinamanche, and when he did not know that the Ainah loved him. 233 [It was now late in the evening, and the party separated for the night. Sir Arthur and Ellesmere remained in the drawing-room after the others had left] Sir Arthur. You were not really angry, Ellesmere, were you, when you left the room ? Ellesmere. Not I. Do you think anything which that fat man could say to me would disturb my peace of mind ? But he is right in what he says about my phosphoric restlessness. We had had a long reading, and a very long conversation, and I was scheming how to get a little change, and a little fresh air under the stars ; so, from the moment he began to attack me, I began to prepare to get into a huff, and to make my escape for a few minutes, which I think I accom- plished rather neatly. Our serious Falstaff thinks he has crushed, smashed, and pounded me to atoms. Depend upon it, he has gone to bed to-night much happier than he has for many of the preceding nights, and that he has acknowledged that the world is not so wretched a place as he supposed it to be. There is some pleasure in crush- ing Ellesmere. I thought the likeness he was pleased to discover between my poor self and a yappetting suburban poodle was not bad at all. I do not think I shall ever do any great good in the world, except in opposing, and, if I may presume to say so, curbing men like you and Milverton, and so keeping you within bounds. When I am here I always take up that objective line, because I think it amuses Milverton, and keeps him alive. There is such a vast amount of melancholy in his dis- position, that he requires all the aid we can give him in the other direction. Sir Arthur. Dear me, I should never have thought it. He enters into everything with spirit, from the most trivial game to the most serious conversation. Ellesmere. Ah, but you do not know him as I do, or as Sandy there does. In the background of his mind, there is gloom all the time. There is no knowing what mischief Mauleverer would do to him, if they lived much together. 234 nniij. [CHAP, Moreover his is a mood of mind which you cannot answer nor satisfy. Mauleverer made a great hit when he attributed all Milverton's misfortunes to pity. If you were to make everything on this earth comfortable, and were to ai range the world as he pleased, he would still sit down and mourn over the past, like Marius amidst the ruins of Carthage, or Rachel for her children. Was Mauleverer equally successful with you, Sir Arthur ? Sir Arthur. Yes, he was. That passion for form which he attributed to me is one of the things which has given me more trouble, and led me into more work, than any other motive power in my nature. I brood over an idea ; I suddenly think how it may be expressed, or rather rendered, generally adopting in my mind some extraordinary form and I am haunted by the thing until I have succeeded in putting it into that form. I believe the desire to accomplish that part of the work which depends upon form is stronger with me even than the desire to give vogue and furtherance to the idea. I always had a notion that this was an im- portant part of my intellectual character ; but I never saw it so clearly as when Mauleverer charged me with it in that forcible manner. Johnson. What a remarkable thing that was that he said about the sparrow and the telegraph wires, when we were on the lake ! Sir Arthur. Yes. That was very good. One felt that it must have been said before. That is one of the first thoughts that occur to one when one meets with any fine passage in almost any work. By the way, it strikes me now that that is one of the reasons why, as Carlyle has pointed out, there is generally considerable disappointment on our first reading of a great work. Ellesmere. To return to Mauleverer He certainly is a very remarkable human being ; but still he is terribly monotonous. I declare, without exaggeration, that I do not think I have heard him, while he has been here, make one single remark that had not the tendency to depress human effort, and lower our view of human prospects. I mean henceforward to take the other side. vin.j *Htt*r, 235 In order to do so with effect, one must be particularly well, and have good long sleepful nights without the aid of your blue "sleep," though, Sir Arthur. So, good night. [Exeunt. The next day there was a reading of the story of Realmah, as follows : CHAPTER XX. REALMAH'S GRIEF. THE USE MADE OF IRON IN ABIBAH. IT has often been noticed how, in civilized life, rou- tine goes on, whatever suffering, or sorrow, or shame, or bereavement may have befallen. Dinner is not put aside because there is death in the house. There was the same thing at that period of the world's history ; and Realmah had to conform to the in- evitable routine of life. At such times men move about, as it were, in a mist a mist, however, causing trouble and confusion only to themselves ; for they may seem to others to see very clearly, and to do their work well. The sufferer has not only to appear upon the stage of action, whatever that may be, and to act his part tolerably ; but he has to continue to act, when off the stage and behind the scenes, and only ceases to act when he is quite alone. Moreover, the usual supports are gone. Even that most clinging of human frailties and follies, vanity, gives way before profound sorrow and bereavement ; and, in their presence, it has been known that a very vain man has lost his vanity, and all the comfort and sustainrnent that it used to bring with it. An ambition, especially if it be of the higher kind, embracing the good of others, may survive the shock : and thus it was with Realmah. 236 SJLealmafr. [CHAP, One of the many miseries of greatness, and not perhaps the least, is that neither its joys nor its sorrows can be private. To this was added in Realmah's case an especial necessity to conceal the magnitude of his grief, and to behave as if it were only a small loss that he had suffered. The report of his having made a successful experi- ment spread throughout the city with considerable rapidity, though not, of course, so rapidly as the knowledge of his failures had spread on former occa- sions. Everybody was anxious to see him, and to talk to him, and to be one of the first to congratulate him. Crowds of the citizens flocked out to that part of the wood where Realmah had carried on his expe- riments ; and, in a very few hours, every bit of the iron had been carried away. The people of Abibah were very ready to appreciate the uses that might be made of this new metal. One cannot help feeling a little for Condore, con- sidering the mortification that one naturally supposes he must have had to endure from this success on the part of Realmah. But "Condore the Judicious" was equal to the occasion. It is true that he was not one of those " silly people," as he called them, who flocked to the scene of Realmah's experiments ; but Condore did not hide himself from his friends, nor did he conceal his feelings by maintaining a sulky silence. He had always known, he said, that certain stones would melt into metal. Of course they would. Anybody that had seen a thunderbolt knew that. He had viewed this enterprise with disfavour, not because he imagined for a moment that it was a thing that could not be done, but because it was not worth doing, and could have no good result. For his part, he was content with what had contented his an- cestors, who, he supposed, were not greater fools than his contemporaries. He would trouble those who viii.] LeaImaIj. 237 were in this fuss of foolish delight at a most common- place transaction, to mention to him any instance of a new thing turning out to be a good thing. The presumption in all cases was, that every change is for the worse. They were descended from the gods at least so the priests had informed him and was it likely that there would be any improvement in their race, as time went on, and as each generation was still further removed from their great ancestors ? As to the uses that might be made of this metal, he begged to remind them of the well-known story of the ambitious pig which was so much discontented with his own tail, calling it a ridiculous and useless little appendage. The gods, willing to give man a lesson, bestowed upon this pig the tail that he coveted, namely, that of a fox. It was not found, however, to be so very great a gain. It \vent flopping about in the dirt ; it made the poor pig look still more ridiculous than he had looked before, and proved only very serviceable to the little boys who wished to catch the pig. Such was the result, as far as his poor observation had gone, of men taking up new things unfitted for them ; but the kindness of the gods in giving examples to mankind was seldom understood. This satire pleased the bystanders (there was gene- rally a little circle of listeners round Condore), and his words were noised throughout the city, especially the satirical story which he had invented about the pig. It did not, however, produce all the effect that Condore expected. Sneering can do a great deal: you can sneer down, at any rate for the moment, truth, honour, religion, generosity, and patriotism. Moreover, anything that is new offers especial oppor- tunity for sneering attacks. But men cannot be sneered out of manifest physical advantages ; and 238 gUalmalj, [CHAP the men of Abibah were not such fools as to prefer fighting with wooden instead of iron weapons against enemies who were furnished with iron weapons. Besides, they took it as a very ill compliment that Condore should insinuate, as they thought he did, that they were of an inferior race to the men of the North, and that it was unfit for them, the Sheviri, to aspire to have superior weapons. In short, the story of the ambitious pig was not well received, and people began to murmur against Condore, saying that he had been a hinderer of many good designs. Time went on, but the ardour of the men of Abibah for making use of this new metal did not abate. Many ingenious persons were found to aid Realmah in his projects, and there were several of them who now showed much more ingenuity than he did, in working this metal, and adapting it to many uses. In truth, inventors, or rather those who have the power to invent, are very numerous. Let any man observe how many persons amongst his friends have told him of inventions that they had in their minds, and he will perhaps come to the conclusion which this writer has come to, that one out of every three persons is a born inventor. Why there are not as many useful inventions as might be expected from the number of possible in- ventors, may be easily explained. Most men have to get their bread ; and that employment gradually absorbs all their attention. To many men the phy- sical requisites for successful invention are wanting, namely, nicety of eye, deftness of hand, room for experiments, and the materials requisite to work upon. But perhaps the greatest want of all is want of perseverance. Most men become tired of their own ideas ; and, even if they try an expe- riment, are apt to accept the first defeat as final. viii.j ^ualntag. 239 Besides, few men thoroughly believe in themselves, and are the first to go over to the side of their adverse critics. However this may be, certain it is that Realmah found not only many favourers and admirers, but, what was much more important, many intelligent coadjutors. In a few months' time, dating from the day when his experiment had proved successful, and when his Ainah had received her death-stroke, the working of iron had made a great advance among the Sheviri. Indeed, a new tribe was formed called the Ironworkers. The name they gave to iron was Krool- Varla, which means stone-honey. Of course the first use made of iron was to con- struct a good weapon of attack ; and great was the delight in Abibah when the first iron javelin was made. Naturally this has been the first and indeed the chief use of iron in all ages namely, to make it into some weapon of offence which shall pierce well into the soft flesh of our fellow-men. It is only during the dull times of peace that this valuable metal the metal of our system has been applied to the ignoble uses of social life. It is almost needless to add that Realmah became immensely popular. Most men recollected now that they had always said that there was something extraordinary in that young man. Condore and Potochee fell into the background. Invention be- came the order of the day ; and the daring man who had proposed to eat with forks held up his head again. When the Spaniards first discovered South America, they found a nation which worshipped certain sacred toads, that were carefully kept and fed, and reverenced, and prayed to. If, however, after a long course of praying, the prayers were not attended to, and rain did not come when it was wanted, or did not cease 240 amaj. [CHAP. when it threatened to be too abundant, the sacred toads were delicately whipped, to remind them of their duty to their worshippers. Thus it is always. Those who are great amongst us are either whipped or worshipped. It was now worshipping time with Realmah, and everything he said was looked upon as oracular. It was well that there was, at that period, some one member of a princely house who was very popular, for there was much distress in Abibah, and consequent discontent. There had been great inun- dations that year ; and both the roots and the cereals, upon which the Sheviri depended, had, to a certain extent, failed. In looking back upon those times, one cannot help thinking what advantage Condore and Potochee might have taken of this scarcity. They might have said that it showed the disapproval of the gods at the impiety of Realmah in offering to his fellow-men weapons like to those of the gods themselves. But no such thing was said ; and Realmah reigned in the hearts of all his fellow-citizens as the man whom they were proud to acknowledge as their fore- most citizen. Talora's beauty gained fresh radiance from her con- sciousness of power and pre-eminence amongst the women. The Varnah was delighted with the presents that enriched their house, but did not change her inmost opinion of Realmah's deficiency in common- sense, for was he not averse to receiving these pre- sents, and, if possible, still more indifferent than ever to the good things of this world ? Many a subdued and furtive sigh came from Real- mah's heart, when he reflected that the one person whose delight in his success he would have cared for most, was numbered with the dead. CHAPTER IX. IT was a sunny morning, and several of us were sauntering in the garden for a few minutes before breakfast-time, when Sir John came up to us. Eltesmere. Mind, you must all be " as civil as an orange " to Milverton to-day. If he gives us a reading, you must swear that it is excellent. He has been in such a rage with me. Lady Ellesmere. How wrong it is of you, John, to vex Leonard in this way. Ellesmere. I assure you I did not mean it. Unfortu- nately we began talking about the Ainah ; and I reminded him of his original description of her. Now you know he has been getting more and more enamoured of her ; and, if he had to describe her again, she would be a perfect beauty. You will see that he will add all manner of beauty to her countenance, if he talks about her again. There will come charming smiles and dimples, and I know not what besides. [Here Mr. Milverton joined us ; and there was an embarrassing silence.] Milverton. I see that Ellesmere has been telling you of the nonsense he has been talking. I did not mean, I did not say, that her hands were extraordinarily large ; but, contrasting her in my mind with the high-bred Talora, I was obliged to confess that there were some drawbacks upon her beauty. Hers was one of those countenances which require nice and loving observation to perceive all the merits and the beauties in them. There was a constant play of beautiful expression ; there were exquisite dimples ; and K 242 Xlealma|), [CHAP. Ellesmere. Ha-ha ! Did I not tell you so ? Am I not a true prophet ? [Here Sir John began dancing about in the wild manner that he frequently indulges in when he is triumphant in some argument.] Milverton. This dancing dervish is not always wrong when he gives us a taste of his prophetic powers. In one word, the Amah's was a very marrying face. Cranmer. What do you mean, Milverton ? Milverton. Why, don't you know, or didn't you know, Cranmer, when you were younger ? You went into a ball-room, and saw two or three great beauties. Haply your eyes fell upon a cosy young couple in some corner. You asked about them, and were told that they were engaged. The girl was not beautiful ; but you said to yourself, " The man is right. He is a sensible man : that girl will make a good wife. She will always Ellesmere.. Make marriage somewhat less painful and disagreeable than it is its nature to be. Now here is a face [He came behind Lady Ellesmere, and inclosed her face in his big hands for he has big hands.] which would insure a happy marriage. You see in it that assurance of perpetual provocation which will not allow a man time to think whether he is happy or not, for he will be in a constant state of warfare. And that is one form, perhaps the best, of happiness for some men. Here Lady Ellesmere disengaged herself somewhat hastily from his grasp, and we all went to breakfast, laughing heartily. There is some celebrated story of a young man who exclaimed, "And I, too, am a painter!" So now I may say, "And I, too, am an author!" It happened in this way. I had been speaking of some of the curious superstitions which exist in a remote IX. JjUahrrafr. 243 part of Scotland where I, when a boy, had been to visit my relations, who were poor fishing people in that district. Upon this, Sir John Ellesmere declared that Sandy could write a tale if he chose, and that Sandy must choose to do so. It would be a very good thing to employ his mind in that way, and would prevent his spoiling " Realmah " by persuading Milverton to introduce foolish chapters about love. This was two or three weeks ago. I tried very hard to think of a subject for a story; but, think as hard as I would, no subject for some time occurred to me. At last, one night, an idea for a story of the supernatural kind did strike me. I told it to Mr. Milverton. He approved of it, and said he would aid me ; and so I wrote my little story. I was very shame-faced and nervous when I came to read it before such an audience ; but I managed to get through the reading somehow, and my story was much praised. Of course they said everything they could to encourage me. I shall not venture to trouble the reader with the story ; but I mention the fact of having written it, as, without doing so, the fol- lowing conversation would not be understood. To-day there was a good deal of talk about my story, and afterwards about those strange fancies which have occupied so many minds in all ages, endowing men with gifts and powers in addition to those which they actually possess. Mr. Mauleverer, of course, maintained that this was a proof of the wretched state of man. Sir Arthur declared that it was an instance of the abounding imagination and poetry that there are in all men, women, and children : while Mr. Cranmer contended that these fancies were rather irreverent; that men had better be contented with what they are, and make the best of that, and not indulge in fancies that could never be realized. Sir John Ellesmere asked whether Mr. R 2 244 ama. [CHAP. Cranmer was prepared to move for the destruction of all fables and of all fairy-stories, and whether all imagination was to be employed in inventing lies about matters of business ? Before recounting any more of the conversation, I must describe the spot where it took place. At the bottom of the hill there is^ a little rivulet which, even in the driest summer, forms a reedy, rushy sort of place, through which meanders a little stream three or four feet in width, and about nine inches in depth. Mr. Milverton delights in this spot, though it is said to be rather malarious. On one side of the rivulet there is a high grassy bank, having upon it a very comfortable seat. I will now continue my account of the conversation. Milverton. I cannot agree with you, Cranmer. about the irreverence you assign to these fancies. If we are never to fancy that we might here, or hereafter, be endowed with other gifts than those which we now possess, we must clos*? our eyes completely to all the forms of life which surround us, and which are so suggestive. I have been very fortunate in life as regards friends and acquaintances. I have known poets, historians, philoso- phers Ellesmere. Observe where the fellow puts historians, because he happens to dote upon history. Milverton. poets, historians, philosophers, statesmen, men of science, artists, doctors, lawyers, and merchants, but I was never fortunate enough to know any man who had made the insect world his study. I am sure I do not know what is the proper name for such a man 1 suppose an entomologist. Well, I was never fortunate enough to know an entomologist. If we had such a man with us now, what interesting things he could tell us about the myriads of inhabitants of this rushy streamlet. I believe there are creatures below us there, which can both crawl and hop, and fly and swim ; which possess eyes by the score ; can weave 245 and spin, and build nests, in water; which, in short, embody all the vagaries of the most fanciful person ; and about which, by the way, if they were familiar to us, fables and stories might be written having much more pith and diversity in them than those about dogs, bears, wolves, elephants, and foxes, which, after all, are poor simple creatures like ourselves, being seldom able to do more than one thing very well. Ellesmere. I do not think much of your entomologist. I do not want him here at all. He would merely shy barbarous words, half-Latin, half-Greek, at us, and bother us about "genus" and "species," and other things, for which we should not really care one solitary dump. Besides, we should have to hear all about his grand discovery of the ouoniatoscylax, some pestilent little creature that hops, and runs, and bites, and wriggles, and turns up its tail spitefully at you. No ; give me the man who can talk well about anything if you only give him a rough bit of a brief to talk upon. Just read to me, or any other lawyer, a little chapter in any book about insects, and we will argue their case in a manner that will bring round any jury to think whatever we are instructed to make them think on behalf of our clients. There are creatures, are there not, who pop out of their shells to take the air, and then other creatures pop into the vacant shells ; and when the softies come back, they find their houses occupied, and the doors bolted against them. What a good case for an action of ejectment ! MilvcrtotL Mark you, I do not mean to say that I have not known men such as Carlyle, Kingsley, and Emerson, who have been able to talk admirably about all forms of nature, from the highest to the lowest. As I think I have told you before, I never heard a more exquisite conversa- tion than one in which Carlyle and Emerson, both of them nice and patient observers of all natural objects, discoursed upon the merits and beauties of common grass. A walk, too, in the country with Kingsley is something to re- member; but still I say, as I said before, I should like to know a real entomologist, a man who had lived a great deal with insects - 246 $foalmah. [CHAP. Ellesmere. The Patronage-secretary of the Treasury ! Milverton. and who could tell me all about the ono- viatopylex, which Ellesmere Ellesmere. No, no ; if you are scientific, be accurate c nomatoscylax. Milverton. which Ellesmere affects to scorn, but which I have no doubt, if well studied, would afford the human race many a good lesson in the arts of life. Very probably he is a great architect. The arch was constructed by insects long before it was known to man. Mauleverer. Talking of men who have studied those minor creatures, there is Mr. G. H. Lewes. You know him, Milverton? Milverton. Yes ; but he is too gelatinous. He describes admirably; is as clear as the sky at Avignon; but his talk is of molluscs, sea-anemones, jelly-fish, and other flabby, pulpy creatures, squeezable as Ministers of State. I want a man who has lived with well-developed, shrewd, mas- terful, designing insects. Sir Arthur. I do not say we wander from the subject, because the fact of these insects possessing multifarious powers is very suggestive. But I want to know why it is irreverent to imagine men to be endowed with other powers or means than those they now possess. I feel rather guilty in this matter, if there is any guilt, as I was the first to tell you a story of the kind which Mr. Cranmer must disapprove of. I mean my " sleep " story. I intended that to convey some sound doctrine. Ellesmere. Yes ; that pleasant tale was nearly suffocated by morality. It was far too moral to be interesting. And observe this, Cranmer, that in almost every story in which extraordinary powers are given to a man, that poor man is sure to come to grief. Even in that dear "Arabian Nights," the unfortunate " gins," or genii, always get the worst of it, being bottled up for a thousand years, or otherwise maltreated. We make a point of pouring misfortunes with a liberal hand upon the head of any creature whom we admit for a moment, even in fancy, to be a more gifted being than man. 24 7 Milverton. Well, I have a fanciful idea which, indeed, has been in my mind for many years, and which I fear Cran- mer would blame, for if realized it would give a great and, as I thinkj a most delightful increase to human power. Eliesmere. Let us guess. The philosopher's stone? The power of always reasoning rightly? Long life? A knocker that would knock down all disagreeable people who came to visit you the postman and telegraph-boy included? A power of eating three dinners a day? A self-upholding umbrella? A supernatural knowledge of trains, so that you could defy Bradshaw and all his books ? A perfectly well-built house, built after a model of some insect establishment? A winged paper-cutter that would always fly to you when you whistled for it? No ; I have it ! It is. never to be sea-sick ! Milverton. No ; you have not. You certainly have ima- gined sundry very delightful appurtenances, such as your discriminating knocker, self-upholding umbrella, and flying paper-cutter. Sir Arthur. Is it the power of seeing clearly into other men's minds ? Milverton. No ; you will never guess it. Eliesmere. Tell us, then. Milverton. I shall have some difficulty in explaining. I mean that there should be a double soul, taking the word "soul" to include all powers, both of thought and feeling, so that you should be able to give one of these souls perfect rest. They should be so intimately in unison, that what one thinks, or feels, or says, or does, should be admitted to be thought, and felt, and said, and done by the other which is absent. There- must be no separate interest, no possibility of reproach. There should be a spare body, so that the one soul could go and recreate itself while the other was fighting the direst battle. Lady Eliesmere. There must be a woman equally gifted to correspond with this man. Conceive a double Sir John ! when one is enough to drive a poor woman distracted. Eliesmere. As the soundest theologians and metaphysi- cians have proved conclusively that women have no souls, it will be doing a very handsome thing if we give them one. 248 |iealuwlj. [CHAP. But this new possession would embarrass them very much. They would lose all that power of governing, so dear to them. Unreason always governs. Nothing prevents your having your own way so much as being at all amenable to reason. Lady Ellcsmere. Women have just that small portion of irrationality, and only that, which enables them to under- stand the immense irrationality of men. and so to steer clear of it, or to guide it. Sir Arthur. Well said, Lady Ellesmere ! He does not gain much by attacking women in your presence. Milverton. But think of the advantages of my fancy, if it were realized : all the regrets, and vexations, and remorses being partaken by another soul which would occasionally come fresh to the work, and bear the burden which its exhausted compeer and partner was almost faint- ing under. Such a man, so gifted, would rule the world. Observe the lives of all great men, who will go on working at a moment when the powers are enfeebled. Imagine Napoleon the First with two such souls. Send one of them to vegetate in the country, while the other is conducting the retreat from Moscow, and you would find that the total Napoleon would never have been sent to Elba. Mark you, the two, when combined, are not to have double power. Mauleverer. I am delighted with Milverton's idea of a double soul. It proves to me that he sees that the single soul cannot possibly bear up against its misfortunes. Milverton. No, Mauleverer, you press my words too far. It is but an occasional, and even rare, relief that I imagine is so much wanted for the soul. Have you not known occasions in which ydu have said to yourself, " I would give anything to have another me to take up the burden for this day only to attend this funeral to meet those men upon that painful business in which my feelings are so likely to overcome my judgment to fight that battle which I could fight so well, if the gaiety of heart which is requisite were not altogether wanting, while I could, as it were, retire into private life, and collect my thoughts, rny energies, and my hopefulness, which, at this critical moment, have deserted me?" 249 Sir Arthur. Really, Mauleverer, I agree with Milverton that you have pressed him too hard. It might not be more than twenty times in one's life that one should want to be absent in the spirit though present in the body; and when one should be so glad to have another soul, a second self, to represent one fully. I wonder, by the way, whether any of you feel with me that you would like to have been in a different sphere of life. Ellesmere. The life of a sweeper at a crossing used to be my ideal. But I have changed my mind. I should like to have been a waiter at an inn. " Coming, coming, coming." One would thus see a good deal of life without much trouble. I should observe the different tastes of our customers : how this old gentleman likes to have his mutton-chops well done'; how that customer rejoices in baked potatoes ; and how the other is offended, if, when he calls for a newspaper, one does not give him the paper which is his paper. I would be very kind, too, to the young people, who are always a little afraid of waiters. I would be unmarried, because my ideal would be to be free from all responsibility. Gradually I should have amassed a large sum in savings say two hundred and seventy pounds and then my plan would be to retire, with my sister, a housekeeper in a good family, to our native village of Mudby Parva, which, by the way, would be intolerable to us from the alterations that had been made in it, and from the railway that would pass through it. But, in reality, we should never realize our great plan of retirement, and I should die in harness, or rather in white tie and seedy black dress-coat. Mauleverer. Think of Ellesmere as a waiter, with no power of interrupting the conversation of the customers ! How little men know of themselves ! What a miserable mortal he would be ! Sir Arthur. And what would you have been, Mauleverer? Ellesmere. Let me answer for him, for I know. He would like to have been the chef in a great kitchen at 250 eanmi. [CHAP. some club, for instance where he could have wandered amidst groves of beef-steaks, and. forests of mutton-cutlets, followed by a legion of cooks, giving them orders fraught with culinary wisdom. Sir Arthur. And you, Cranmer ? Cranmer I should like to have been a mail-coachman in the olden times. Ellesmere. Of course he would choose something official. How punctual he would have been ! How fussy and im- portant about His Majesty's Mails ! He would have in- sisted upon being guard and coachman too. Sir Arthur. And you, Milverton ? Milverton. Well, I am not so humble as the rest of you. I should like to have been a colonist to have con- ducted a body of settlers to Paraguay. That part of the earth, from what I have heard of it, and read about it, takes my fancy more than any other. Almost every known product is to be found there. 1 Then there are great rivers, 1 Mr. Milverton afterwards read to us this extract from some his- torical work : 4 ' The most important products of the world can be grown there sugar, maize, tobacco, cotton ; and it has peculiar products of its own, such as the Paraguay tea. It is not volcanic, and has not to dread the catastrophes which have often overwhelmed the Spanish cities on the other side of the Andes .... " It has lakes, rivers ; and woods, and, in the character of its scenery, much resembles an English park. It is rich in trees of every descrip- tion cedars, palms, balsams, aloes, cocoa-trees, walnut-trees, spice- trees, almonds, the cotton-plant, the quinaquina that produces the Jesuit's bark, and another tree, of which the inner bark is so delicate and white, that it can be used as writing-paper. There is also the ceyba tree, which yields a soft woolly substance of which the natives make their pillows. " The fruits of this most fertile land are oranges, citrons, lemons^ the American pear, the apple, peaches, plums, figs, and olives. The bees find here their special home. The woods are not like the silent forests of North America, but swarm with all kinds of birds, having every variety of note and feather, from the soft colours of the wild dove to the gay plumage of the parrot ; from the plaintive note of the nightin- gale, to the dignified noise of those birds which are said to imitate the trumpet and the organ. A few Indians, rarely to be seen, and appear- ing like specks in the landscape, roam over this vast plain, which a modern traveller has well said might be 'the cradle of a mighty nation.' " .] amar. 251 and vast parks reminding one of English scenery ; and withal, a charming climate. Moreover, one would get free, I think, both from European and North American disturbances. Insects, I believe, are not intolerable there. Volcanoes are unknown ; and, in fact, it seems to me that it fulfils the idea of an earthly paradise. Then I think I should like the business of managing a settlement. I should not take out any lawyers with me only a notary or two. I should try and get a good many young doctors, and a few very carefully selected clergymen. Carpenters, sailors, and navvies should form the bulk of the common people I would bring with me. Mauleverer. Should you take out a newspaper editor? Because I should rather think that would interfere with the paradise. Milverton. No: I should be my own editor, so that I could represent my own quarrels (for quarrels there would be) in my own paper, the only one in the colony, in my own way. Sir Arthur. Would you have an architect, Milverton ? Milverton. Yes : I should not object to having one. We should overpower him, and compel him to make plans to please us, and not according to his own preconceived notions. Ellesmere. Should you take out any women ? Milverton. Yes : thirty cooks, who would, of course, marry off like wildfire. The rest of the men must marry the women of the country, so as to secure alliances. Lady Ellesmere. And what would you have been, Sir Arthur ? Sir Arthur. A painter. Ellesmere. House ? Sir Arthur. No : history. You see there is such a happy mixture of manual and mental work in a painter's career. I learnt that long ago from one of Hazlitt's essays. And then, too, what a pleasure to see the work grow under your hand ! A book is a thing much further from you than a picture. I look with peculiar tenderness upon a picture, the work of any great painter. I think how it has lived with him with what fond and anxious looks he has re- 252 garded it in early morning and late evening what joy and sorrow have gone into it what great men, his friends, have come to look at it. Suppose it to be a Titian : Charles V. has come to look at his friend's work ; and has given anxious, judicious, and affectionate criticism about it. Then, too, the painter's loving wife and daughters have given, from day to day, their criticisms, being most careful to give at the same time due encouragement and admiration. In fact, the thing which we see now, has been, for the time, a sort of domestic idol. Yes, I should like to have been a painter, even if I had been one of only moderate endowments. Ellesmere. Sentiment, sentiment, sentiment ! Think, on the other hand, what you would have suffered from art critics. Mauleverer. It is idle talking of what we should like to have been. There may be some wisdom to be gained from contrasting different situations in life comparing what one is oneself with what another person is, and so deriving wisdom from the contemplation of the contrast. But I rather agree with Cranmer, that these imaginations lead to nothing. Ellesmere. I don't agree with Cranmer ; but I do see, with Mauleverer, that it may be a wise thing to consider what good qualities are developed in positions in life dif- ferent from our own, and adopting them into our own. Milverton once said a shrewd thing. Years ago, he remarked to me, that a man generally fulfilled best that position in life for which he was apparently most unfitted by nature. He illustrated it by numberless instances. He said that Lord Althorp was a most successful minister, and prima facie he had none of the qualities for a minister. Milverton added, I remember, that the best clergymen were those who had some qualities that were somewhat unclerical. I quite agree with him. You see, old fellow, if you ever do say a good thing, I make a point of remembering it. Sir Arthur. Talking of contrasts of situation, I will tell you the most remarkable instance that ever occurred to me. ix.i amaf. 253 I went to see one of the most notable personages in Em ope, not on any political errand, but merely as a private friend. Now I shall veil what I am going to tell you as thoroughly as possible, for it is wrong to betray a friend's moods to any stranger. You will conjecture ; and your conjectures will most probably be utterly wrong. Well, when I entered his cabinet, I saw at a glance that he was sunk in the deepest dejection. He gave me a short sad smile, shook hands cordially ; but seemed to have nothing to say. At length, however, I persuaded him to tell me what ailed his mind. He was misunder- stood, he said ; his policy was misrepresented everywhere : he was weary of the never-ending labour and struggle. "See the hideous calumnies that are current about me!" he exclaimed. " What is life worth? What a dreary farce it all is ! " Ellesmere. Well, and what friendly stings, my dear fellow, did you add? Sir Arthur. I took an uncommon, but, as I think, a judicious course. I did not say one word in contradiction to his statements. How could I ? They were true. 1 did not urge, that if he had met with great failures, he had enjoyed great successes. I did not attempt to soothe him by showing what a potent personage he was. I Mauleverized, if I may coin a word, to explain shortly what I did. I simply dwelt upon the huge amount of misery and disappointment in the world. To illustrate this, I fell into a strain of quotation. The personage I addressed knew many languages. I reminded him. of the saying of Petrarch: " Initiu m ccedtas : progrcssio labor : error omnia" I quoted your favourite bit, Milverton, from Disraeli : " Youth is a blunder ; manhood a struggle ; old age a regret." That made me think of Sir George Lewis's " Life would be ver> tolerable but for its pleasures." The great man smiled at that, which encouraged me to give a slightly different version of my own namely: "Life 254 |jUaimaf. [CHAP. would be intolerable but for its absurdities." He was pleased to smile at that, too. Then I quoted from Pascal I forget what. Then from Rousseau. Then I ventured humbly to say that I thought that some of the greatest men in the world had been the great writers ; and that it was found, as in the case of David and Solomon, that when they were monarchs as well as writers, their writings did not the less betray their misery. I showed him that Horace, notwithstanding his Chloes, and Lesbias, and myrtle coronets, and Chian wine, was a melancholy individual : " Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume, Labuntur anni," &c. also Pope, Swift, Byron, Shelley, Cowper, and the rest of them. I gave him Tennyson's "Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean. Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart and gather to the eyes In looking at the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more." Of course, I brought in my Browning bit about the greatness of the mind being shown by the shadow which it casts. I need hardly say I touched upon Cervantes and Shake- speare, But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here About my heart : but it is no matter." And again : "'Tis but a tale, Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing." Then thinking I had not treated him with any Italian, I gave him this passage from Leopardi : " Ma io, quanta a me, con licenza vostra e del secolo, sono infelicissimo ; e tale mi credo ; e tutti i giornali de' due mondi non mi persuacu- ranno il contrario" The latter bit about the newspapers amused him greatly. ix.] gkaterajf. 255 I longed to give him De Quincey's magnificent passage about " Our Lady of Sorrow," but I could not recollect it. Finally, I wound up with Sir William Temple, "When all is done human life is, at the greatest and the best, but like a froward child, that must be played with and humoured a little to keep it quiet till it falls asleep, and then the care is over." I think my conversation had, as was natural, a cheering effect for the time. He thanked me very much : something that would have been tears in any other man rose over his expressive countenance, and I withdrew. As I did so, however, I am afraid I noticed in a parting glance at him, as he sank back in his chair, that his melancholy was not so easily to be baffled, but that it only waited for my departure to seize upon him again. Ellesmere. Well, but the contrast ? I suppose you saw a happy beggar at the gate, munching an unexpected crust, or revelling in an unaccustomed sausage. Sir Arthur. No ; it was not so common-place as that. I went away by train. In the carriage were a young man and his wife, not a newly-married couple. They were the very types of round, smiling, smooth-faced insignificance. But how they did enjoy their excursion ! They sucked the same orange : they bit at the same cake. Though they evidently were never parted, they had an unceasing flow of utter babblement to interchange. They put me so much in mind of two monkeys ! Their talk, though exquisitely silly, was irradiated really made beautiful by happiness. They minded me no more than if I had been a bit of the wood-work of the carriage. No reticence had they in their joy, and in their supreme satisfaction with each other. When I contemplated them, and when I thought of the great man I had left sunk in gloom and dejection, I felt that happiness was not equally distributed to all, as people sometimes perversely contend. By the way they spoke of the great personage, and very kindly too, which won my heart; but as being one who had an infinity of oranges and cakes, and who had no need to save up for three months, m order to afford such a delightful outing as theirs was to be. 256 |lerJma{r, [CHAP. Ellesmere. It would have been very wicked ; but I should like to have heard what they would have said if you had Mauleverized them. Sir Arthur. I would not have done so for the world ; I declare I would rather have stolen their money, and spoiled their excursion in that way. Ellesmere. But to return to the main subject. Do keep to the point, my excursive friends. I could make the greatest possible improvement as re- gards your wish for a second soul, Milverton. You want that soul to be exactly like your own. 1 would have it the complement to your own. Where you are soft, it should be hard ; where you are sympathetic, it should be cold ; where you are simple and stupid, it should be astute and alert ; and then indeed it would be of some good to you. In fact, you ought to have mine as a second soul to yours ; and we should fight the battle of life triumph- antly. I think I hear the Milvertonian soul saying to the P^llesmerian, "You must fight these fellows to-morrow, for I really cannot ; " and the Ellesmerian soul would rejoice in the contest. Perhaps the day afterwards some judicious man would remark, "What a much cleverer fellow Milverton is than I thought; you see we could not take him in at all, he was down upon us in a moment : and so good-humoured, too, whereas I always thought he was an irritable, over-sensitive person. No fussy particu- larity either; not at all the fellow to be for ever washing his own soap." One thing, however, you would have to do, Master Milverton : you would have to manage Lady Ellesmere for me ; and I have no doubt she would say, not knowing of the interchange of souls, " How manageable John is to-day ! not quite so bright as usual, but how much more my slave ; and he seems to think exactly what I think," for you would have the art, of which I have none, to persuade her that your thoughts were hers, and that when you were acting most completely on your own hook, as the saying is, you were but using her bait. Oh dear, what a surprise it would be to her when the real Ellesmere came back to undertake the management of my lady ! 257 Sir Arthur. I think I have heard something like your idea before, Milverton, in some French story. Milverton. No, Sir Arthur, you have not, I assure you. I know what you are thinking of one of Eugene Sue's novels. In that, an artisan enters into the body of a marqui-s, and has to go through some very uncomfortable scenes. But the marquis is totally unconscious of the change ; and the artisan is not aware, while he is a marquis, that he has another form of existence. It is only when he comes to himself again that he knows that he has had for twenty-four hours the experience of a marquis's life. Eugene Sue's object was, doubtless, to show the poor man how great a mistake it often is to envy the rich man. There was no increase of power given to the individual soul. Now, I really do not see, taking into consideration die infinite variety and beneficence manifested in creation, why in some happy planet there may not be a great increase of power given to a creature something like man. Ellesmere. I am not so taken as the rest of you with Milverton's fond imaginations. I see fifty objections to his grand idea. If the other soul is to be of any real use or comfort, it must have individuality. If it has individuality, it will differ in opinion with Soul No. i. Again, you may talk about joys being doubled, and sorrows being halved ; but I do not take much interest in things that are done in committee. The whole affair is too much of a joint-stock transaction. Milverton. I am going to tell you something, which perhaps has some application to Ellesmere, ana to the critical race generally a little simple story which I have often longed to tell when Ellesmere has been taking points, and making endless small objections. Ellesmere. Oh, we are a little nettled now, are we? Nothing makes a man more cross than when a really kind friend shows him that his poetry won't scan. The same thing when it is shown him that what he thinks to be his most poetical ideas are all awry, as it were, and won't bear looking at. Pray tell your story, though. [" Oh, yes, pray do," said the others.] s 258 $italmab. [CHAR Ellesmere. How delighted you all are at any attack being made upon me ! Everybody seems to rouse up all of a sudden ; and Fairy perceiving a general move- ment, makes a circuit round us, as you see, and sniffs and snuffs as if there were a rat or a badger near, to be hunted or baited. Tell your story; do not spare my feelings. I like to see people happy. This sort of thing amuses you, and it does not hurt me. Milverton. When there is a nursery in a house, every- body must admit that the pleasantest meal in the day is nursery tea. I always contrive to become sufficiently familiar with the nursery authorities to be admitted. The mistress is never more agreeable than when presiding at this tea. The master gets away if he can from his sporting friends and their eternal talk about horses, dogs, and par- tridges ; and enjoys the high paternal pleasure of playing at pick-a-back with his little boys. The children are much more pleasant and natural at this tea-time than when they are brought down in their best nursery-frocks after dinner. Ellesmere. Ugh : this nursery story, which is to confound all judicious critics, including myself. Milverton. Well, I was assisting at one of these pleasant nursery teas in a country house. One of the children present was a pretty little girl about three years old, who had a nurse, especially devoted to her, of the name of Maria. By the way, I may mention that some baked apples had made their appearance at this nursery tea, which in con- sequence may be considered to ha.ve been what the fashion- able world calls "a high tea." Suddenly, at a pause in the conversation, the little child, putting down a piece of bread and butter, exclaimed, with a very distinct utterance, " Ma-i-vey say l happles ' / fool she are." Maria, a jolly country girl about fifteen years old, blushed, but looked quite pleased that Miss Gertrude was so clever, and said, " You dear little thing." The mamma was " shocked " at such a " naughty word " as " fool" being used to "good kind Maria." Miss Gertrude having uttered her "judicious" criticism, was not much dismayed by mamma's remonstrance. 259 I thought of Ellesmere and of his flock of critics whom he delights in. You see the small critic pointed out, with great satis- faction, a little over-indulgence in the use of the aspi- rate on the part of poor Maria ; but was perfectly uncon- scious that in her own six words she had committed four errors. Ellesmere. How do you make out four? Milverton. "Maivey" for "Maria," "say" for "says," " are " for " is ; " and surely you would admit that the use of the word " fool " is thoroughly inappropriate. People who misplace their aspirates are not necessarily fools. But does not Miss Gertrude's criticism remind you all, not only of Ellesmere's way of exercising his critical faculty, but also of other criticisms not heard in nurseries, but in the high courts of literature and politics ? Have you never found the critic disclose four errors on his own part for one that he delights to point out in the sayings or doings of the person he criticises ? You may be sure that something very nearly akin to " Ma-i-vey say * happles ' \ fool she are," has been uttered in very high places this very day, and not by children of three years old only. Ellesmere. Absolutely malignant ! He has bottled up this story to be told against me on some great occasion. I believe it has been impending over my devoted head for the last two years. I really was not particularly critical to- day ; but he was particularly vexed, as people always are when the ideas which they are very fond of, but which are not a little rickety, come to be examined by the drill- s rgeant, or rather by the Medical Board. Sir Arthur. It is an excellent story. Lady Ellesmere. I shall never forget it. Ellesmere. I know that ; I shall be bored by my lady with the story all my life. And as for Sir Arthur, he was sure to delight in it. He has undergone a little criticism himself in the course of his life totally unjust, no doubt; for as I heard him say to Milverton the other day, " Criti- cism is for the most part so thin." What he meant I do not know, but the two authors chuckled over the phrase, and seemed to think it so condemnatory and so clever, S 2 260 ^SLealmajf. [CHAP, Sir Arthur. Milverton has silenced Ellesmere. I am, however, going to revive Sir John, and I shall do so by returning to our original subject. Have you never felt over-wearied yourself, Ellesmere, and as if you would give anything to have another Sir John to take up the work for you? In no great case that you have had to argue ? Ellesmere. I am a sensible man ; and I do not allow myself to fret myself to fiddle-strings. Sometimes, after a weighty consultation, I have found myself lying awake, and scheming and planning how to conduct a case. On such occasions I do everything I can to break up such trains of thought. I say to myself, " My health and spirits belong to my clients; there is nothing so important for their interests as that I should be strong and in good nerve to- morrow." Only think if race-horses, the night before the Derby, knew about to-morrow's race, how the more nervous and sensitive spirits among them would fret, and fuss, and lose their sleep, and fail to answer, when called upon to make their final effort When I was in the case, one of the heaviest I was ever engaged in, I found myself at this planning of my course of argument the night before, and becoming cold, and nervous, and miserable. I got up, and lit a fire, and set to work to read a volume of Victor Hugo's novel, " Les Miserables" That great book has, happily, ceitain long parenthetical discussions which are not very exciting. I fell upon one of these, and in half an hour I was in a sweet and composed state of mind, and I had five hours' good sleep that night. My client was a dear friend as well as client, and when I saw his anxious face next day in court, I should not like to have told him that I had read "Les Miserables" the previous night, in order to get rid of him and his cause from my thoughts. But it was the best thing I could have done for him. You see, therefore, that you do not take much by ap- pealing to rne to back up Milverton's " fond imaginations," for so I must call them. 261 Milverton. My dear Sir Arthur, you cannot bring Elles- mere round, when he has once taken up a side against you. Let us change the subject. Ellesmere's reference to " Les Miserable* " has put me in mind of what he said some time ago about novels. Do you remember the fun he made of his " Edwin and Angelina"? But if he meant to run down the works of fiction of the present day, I am sure he is not warranted in doing so. I have just been reading a number of the "Last Chronicle of Barset." What an excellent novel it is ! How true to life are the conversations and the letters ! Now I maintain that no age has been so rich in good works of fiction, and perhaps in good writing of all kinds, as ours. Ellesmere will, I dare say, declare that, in a future age, almost all the present writers will be quite forgotten. I do not know, but I cannot imagine that Tennyson and Browning, Dickens and Bulwer, and Thac- keray and Trollope, and the great feminine writers, the authoress of " The Mill on the Floss," the authoress of "Jane Eyre," or of "John Halifax, Gentleman," and many others, will cease to be valued and their works to be read. I think the same may be said of the great historical writers such as Hallam, Grote, Macaalay, Carlyle, Milman, Froude, and Merivale. I don't venture to speak much about the writers of other nations, but I think it will be a long time before Emerson, and Hawthorne, and Prescott will be forgotten in their own country. Now I have not brought this subject on the tapis merely for the sake of getting a change of subject, but I have something very important to say about it. I see, though, Ellesmere is impatient to have his say. Ellesmere. "Blow the trumpets, sound the drums!" Milverton is going to say something at some future time which will be worth hearing. You began by talking about the "Last Chronicle of Barset." I am sorry to say that I fear that my relations with the distinguished author of that work will be con- siderably changed for the worse. I cannot be friendly with him any more, if Lily Dale -- . No, I shan't tell you what I was going to say : you would only laugh at me. 262 |lealmalj. [CM A* . Milverton. How men may misunderstand one another ! I really do believe that, if Ellesmere were to meet Mr. Trollope, he would be very cold or cross to him if Lily Dale marries John Eames, or if she marries Crosby, or if she does not marry him, or if she does not become an old maid, for I am sure I do not know what Ellesmere wants her to do. Trollope would go away thinking that he had somehow or other offended Ellesmere, or was greatly disesteemed by him ; whereas Ellesmere would be paying him the highest compliment that could be paid to a man of imagination. Here is this severe, satirical, case-hardened lawyer, and he is so possessed by a phantom of the novelist's brain, that he is positively prepared to be enraged if this she-phantom does not act exactly as he would have her. What's Lily Dale to him, or he to Lily Dale ? Ellesmere. Well, she is more to me than many a cha- racter I read of in history. Your historical characters are such fleeting things nowadays. I used to dislike Nero. 1 am now told that he was a most estimable gentleman, and has been quite misunderstood until the present time. If he fiddled at a//, it was not during the fire, but after the fire, to collect subscriptions for the sufferers. But what was the important thing that you were going to tell us, Milverton ? Milverton. I do not care how much you ridicule me, but I do maintain that ours is an age noted for its richness in literary skill. Look at the excellence in the daily and weekly press, and in these innumerable monthlies. It is a perpetual source of astonishment to me to see how many people can write well, and have really a great deal to tell you. I know that Ellesmere will say that I am always unreason- ably prone to dwell upon the merits of everything and every- body ; but, upon the other hand, I think I am very critical about the writing of English. A few minutes ago, 1 mentioned several names of men eminent in literature. But I could add many others. There are Henry Taylor, and Ruskin, and Kingsley, and John Mill, for instance : I pity the man who has read their works, 263 and has not been able to learn a great deal from them, and . to appreciate the goodness of the writing. Amongst our statesmen, too, there are men who would have been very considerable writers, if they had not devoted themselves to statesmanship. Lord Russell's " Europe since the Peace of Utrecht" is a very well written work. Mr. Disraeli's novels are remarkable productions. I read his tl Contarini Fleming," as a youth, with immense admiration ; and I read it again, last year, with great pleasure. Mr. Gladstone, also, and the Duke of Argyll, are men who have shown that they can leave their mark in literature. Whatever you may say, I do maintain that ours is a great age as regards power of thought and expression. Now, what I want you to notice is, that the great men who have made the age pre-eminent were all born, or at least nurtured, and the direction of their talents given to tnem, in a time of profound peace. The great strides in European civilization, whether in arts, in science, or in literature, have been made in consequence of there having been such periods. I wish we could have Buckle back again in life here with us, for I am sure he would - [At this moment the postman made his appearance with the second delivery of letters, which the old man asked us to receive, in order that he might be saved the trouble of going up the hill. Now Sir John is furious about this second delivery. It is no joke with him ; he is really very angry.] Ellesmere. Have you no conscience, George ; are you dead to all the finer feelings of humanity, that you molest us twice a day ? I must come to some understanding with you. Your proper Christmas-box from me is two hundred and forty pence, that is, if you do not bring me any letters during the time that I am here. For every letter you bring I must deduct a penny, and if the balance turns against you, you must give me a Christmas-box. I do believe you have brought me two hundred and eighty letters this time; consequently you owe me forty pence: which, when I was a National School-boy, used to amour- 1 to three shillings 264 !lc;ilma|j. [CHAP. and fourpence, the sum, Mr. George, you are now in debt to me. George. Oh, your honour would not be so 'ard on poor old George, as 'ave know'd you these twenty year, and such a snowy winter, too, as last winter 'ave a been. 'Sides I must do what the missus (the postmistress) tells I to. Ellesmere. It is no excuse, George ! If we do all that our " missuses" tell us, we shall most of us come to the gallows. George. Ah, you be alms so jokous, Lawyer Ellesmere ; but you know we must. (And saying this, the old man took off his hat, and, making a general bow to us, trotted off.) Ellesmere. Do you see Peter Garbet's house in the distance that wretched hovel surrounded by other hovels, on the top of Mendmore Hill? I am sorry to tell you that old Peter and two of his children are ill of the fever, and that Mrs. Garbet is nearly distracted. Mrs. Milverton. I knew all about it, John. I have done everything I could for her. Ellesmere. 1 know you have, my clear Blanche, and so have I in my little way ; but how can we counteract the post-office ? Milverton. What nonsense, Ellesmere ! I am sure old Peter has not received three letters in the course of his life. Ellesmere. Considering that you pretend to have a great admiration for history, you are certainly a very shallow fellow, my dear friend, and never look far back enough to causes. Who in modern times invented the post-office? As Macaulay would have said, " Every schoolboy knows that." Why, Louis the Eleventh : just like him, is it not? Everybody who has seen Charles Kean in the character of Louis the Eleventh would know that that crafty, cruel, unprincipled king would, of course, invent the post-office system. What did he say to himself? " Despatches make my life miserable ; my subjects shall have a taste of them, too. Besides, they will not look so sharply into my proceedings, if they have their own letters to molest them every day." 265 What happens? By these means Louis the Eleventh crushes his nobles, and increases the kingly power to an enormous extent. Louis the Fourteenth, the Regent Or- leans, and Louis the Fifteenth abuse this kingly power outrageously. France is rendered miserable ; and in good, well-meaning Louis the Sixteenth's time comes the French Revolution. Out of the French Revolution, by necessity, comes Napoleon the First. By an equal necessity, England and Pitt must have a set to with Napoleon the First. Hence four hundred millions of debt. Hence window-tax and excise duty on bricks. Consequently Peter Garbet's cottage is built with one side against a damp hill to save bricks, and has a window only eighteen inches square. Hence dampness and insufficient ventilation, and hence poor Peter Garbet and his two children lie ill in that miserable hovel. Milverton. 1 am sorry to say anything against a series of statements and conclusions which are so admirably set forth by our learned friend ; but Louis the Eleventh did not establish the post-office in the sense which Elles- mere understands it. He established a series of posts for the Government and for the Court, but it was not adopted by the community in general till Richelieu's time. Ellesmere. The same thing. Richelieu was but Louis the Eleventh in cardinal's petticoats. Milvdrton. I am sorry to intrude with unpleasant facts, but Richelieu was not the prime agent in this matter. It was done by the Due d'Epernon, when Richelieu was for a year or two in retirement. Ellesmere. What wretched pedantry all this is ! It is lear that the cruel Louis the Eleventh was the inventor )f the system. You admit that he applied it to his Court. The Court in those days comprehended the principal men in the kingdom. Well, then, this system was enlarged in Richelieu's time. Do you think it was done without his approbation, or continued without his consent? 266 Uealma. [CHAP. Practically speaking, it is a device of tyranny. After you have passed the immature age of twenty-three, does any- body write to you but to annoy you about something ? Matdeverer. I think Ellesmere is quite right. All the clever inventions of man only lead to increased misery. Milverton. What do you say to the use of chloroform ? Ellesmere. They do not apply it to the right people. Anybody who is about to write a letter to a lawyer in vaca- tion should be chloroformed, and the trance should be made to last for two years at least. Here Sir John, who had an immense number of letters to-day, got up and walked away. The rest of us did the same, and so the conversation ended. We had only just begun our walk, when we heard Sir John calling after us. When he came within speaking distance, he shouted out to us, " Mind, I don't agree with Milverton about his eminent men being born and nurtured in times of peace. I am prepared to maintain the exact contrary, only I haven't time just now. Old George, the villain, came at the exact moment to save Milverton, that peace-maniac, from a sound intellectual drubbing. Good-bye." And so saying, he rushed up the hill again, while we proceeded on our walk towards the town ; Mr. Milverton merely remarking, " What a contentious creature it is ! " But I never thought he would let that pass. 267 CHAPTER X. NEXT morning I awoke at seven o'clock, and saw a tall figure very busy at my drawers. "Who is that?" I exclaimed. " It's me," replied a voice which I recognised as Sir John Ellesmere's. Ellesmere. I say "It's me" advisedly; and am prepared to maintain that it is good grammar to say so. What am I about ? Why, I am rectifying my frontiers in the article of cricket-balls. Little Tommy Jessom has got a whole holiday, and has honoured us by a visit. A quarter to seven is not a strictly fashionable hour for making a morning call upon a respectable family; but boys are privi- leged beings. The minute but persevering Tommy insists upon our having a game at cricket, and I am going to give him an innings. I saw you put away a well-greased ball in one of these drawers the other day. Hallo ! emerald studs ! and very pretty ones too. What young woman has been foolish enough to see anything in your lengthy face, Sandy, and to give you these studs ? I see I must "execute the provisions of a treaty" in regard to these studs a treaty to be signed by the small Tommy and me, which being rightly interpreted, will be found to provide that, under pain of being thrashed himself, he shall come into your room, carry off the studs, and present them to the other high contracting party. You shall then complain to me of Tommy ; and between us we will execute the provi- sions of another treaty, and carry off Master Tommy's bat and stumps. We want stumps sadly, and should not be the worse for a spare bat. Thus everything will be arranged satisfactorily, according to the latest and best construction put upon international law. 268 LeaJma|, [CHAP. So saying, Sir John, having, to use his own phrase, " rectified his frontiers " by seizing upon my pet cricket-ball, strode out of the room to play with Tommy Jessom. An hour or t\vo after breakfast we all went to the summer-house to have another reading of Realmah. Ellesmere. Tommy, I have a serious word to say to you. You are an incomplete, imperfect boy ; in fact, a mere eido- lon, or spectrum, or larva, of a boy. The perfect boy has always in his pockets a ball of string, a lump of beeswax, thirty-seven marbles, two alley-taws, and a knife with six blades, a gimlet, a punch, a corkscrew, and a little saw. I regret to say that you were found to be deficient in all these articles tins morning. Proceed at once to Mother Child- man's in the town, and buy them forthwith. (Here Ellesmere gave the boy some money.) Away ! Avaunt ! " Quousque tandem abutere y Caitlitia, patientia nostrCi ! " Vanish. \Exit Little Tommy. The boy would be bored to death by our reading and our talk. By the way, he has made me very unhappy this morning. Milverton. Why, he is the best of little boys a perfect boy, notwithstanding the absence of beeswax and string. Ellesmere. 1 am in a sort of a way his godfather. Poor S , my cousin, was his godfather; and now that S is dead, I consider that i take his place. Consequently, I thought it my duty, in the intervals of cricket, to talk to him a little about his lessons. It is the same sad story as it was in our time. Hexas and pens for to-day : alcaics and Latin theme for Monday ; in fact, a painful and laborious gather- ing togeiher of useless rubbish. Johnson. What are hexas and pens, Sir John ? Ellesmere. You have not been brought up, Sandy, in the groves of Academus, or you would know that hexas and pens are the short for hexameters and pentameters. Hereupon ensued a conversation of the most ani- mated description. I could not have thought that any people would have been so excited about the x.] |lealmalj, 269 question of boys making Latin verses. The most uncomplimentary speeches passed between Mr. Cran- mer and Sir John, Mr. Cranmer insinuating that Sir John would have been a much more polished in- dividual if he had made more Latin verses in his boyhood, and Sir John insinuating that Mr. Cranmer would not have been quite so much given to routine, and so narrow-minded, if he had made fewer Latin verses. Mr. Milverton an unusual thing for him rushed in to aid Sir John ; upon which Sir Arthur came down upon him, not in his accustomed dignified way, but with great warmth and vehemence, declaring that, if these new ideas were to prevail, all elegance and scholarship in literature would pass away. Mr. Mauleverer sneered a little at both parties, but rather inclined to Mr. Cranmer's view of the question, from his hatred of anything new. For some time they all talked at once, and I cannot give any account of it. When the fray had a little subsided, Sir Arthur and Sir John were left in possession of the field. Sir John demanded of Sir Arthur a distinct enumeration of the advantages to be gained in education from the making of Latin and Greek verses. Sir Arthur did not hesitate to accept the challenge, and enumerated these advantages one by one. Sir John pointed out the fallacy in each case, dwelt upon the loss of time, the loss of real knowledge, and the cumbering the mind with what is useless, occasioned by the present system of classical education. I thought he had much the best of the argument, though Sir Arthur was very eloquent and very adroit. At length the conversation was broken off, as they thought that Tommy Jessom would soon be back upon us again ; and Mr. Milverton commenced reading another portion of Realmah. 270 |Lealma|f. [CHAP. Siorjj jof CHAPTER XXI. THE REVOLUTION. GOVERNMENT is a most mysterious thing. There are constitutions which seem as if they would last for ever, being well-constructed, reasonable things ; but they do not last; and there are others full of anomalies, abounding in contradictions, which per- severe in living, however unreasonably. Thus it was at Abibah. The least-foreseeing of prophets might have prophesied that, in a nation where the supreme power was divided amongst four chiefs, the government would be sure to be soon broken up. This strange government, however, had lasted for several generations. A time was now approaching when this govern- ment would be sorely tried. The scarcity of pro- visions made men sour, and ready to blame their chiefs with or without reason. The immediate cause of danger, however, arose from a most trivial circum- stance. There was a day of festival in honour of Salera, the goddess of the waters. At this festival it had been customary for the inhabitants of the town to appear in festal dresses totally different from their ordinary costume, but both as to form and colour each individual might follow his, or her, own fancy. It happened, however, that on one occasion, a few years previously, a large family of children had been dressed out with blue scarves, while those of a neighbouring family had been dressed with red scarves. There was great contest in the particular neighbourhood as to which set of children had been x.] vc;imar, 271 most becomingly adorned. Gradually the dispute spread into other quarters of the city, and eventually the population were divided into those who wore blue scarves at Salera's festival, and those who wore red. Feuds, similar to those of the circus at Con- stantinople, which shook the thrones of emperors, arose about these colours ; and the red and the blue factions hated one another with a fell religious hatred. The chief of the West had incautiously proclaimed himself an ardent partisan for the Blues, and had earned the intense dislike of the Reds. It happened that he had lately issued some regulations about the distribution of food, which, though very reasonable, had given great offence to his quarter of the city. The Red faction were crafty enough to drop all allusion to their hatred to him as a strong partisan of the Blue faction, and to dwell merely upon that which was a subject of general offence to both factions. This chief of the West was one of those unfortunate rulers who seem to be born at the wrong time ; and whose virtues, no less than their errors and their vices, contribute to their misfortunes. In this dispute between the Red and Blue factions, though, as I have said above, he was an ardent partisan of the Blue faction, he had never favoured them in the distribution of offices ; being too just a man for that. He was therefore neither valued as a friend, nor feared, however much disliked, as an enemy. He was very much the prey of the last speaker, and so his policy was never consistent ; being al- ternately strict and lax, bold and timorous. A simple-minded, good, honest man, having every wish to govern rightly, he could scarcely be said to govern at all. It seems as if such men were sent into the world, and placed in power just at a time of crisis, in order that it might be rendered absolutely certain 272 citmaj. [CHAP that the crisis should be developed into great disaster, or at least great change. Realmah knew the character of this man well, and from that knowledge foreboded calamity. It was peculiarly unfortunate that the poorer in- habitants of Abibah should have congregated in the Western quarter of the town. It was there that the weavers dwelt, who were always inclined to be a turbulent body ; and who were the first to suffer from any scarcity of provisions, as men can dispense with weaving, and go on with their old garments, when threatened by want of food. From the Western quarter the disaffection spread ; and great political discussions arose throughout the whole city as to their present form of government. Any person, or thing, much discussed, is sure to be much vilified ; and this quadrilateral government, when once it had to endure discussion, offered many points for attack and depreciation. Moreover, there were not wanting amongst the Sheviri ambitious men anxious for a more republican form of government, and who looked forward to a position of power and profit, if that mode of government should be esta- blished. Their scheme was to form a council of twelve, by election, who should have supreme power for five years, three members of this council being allotted to each division of the city. Disaffection grew to a great height, and a dis- solution of the present constitution was imminent. It is not to be supposed that men like Realmah, belonging to the ruling families, were unobservant of this dangerous state of public opinion. In fact, Realmah was perfectly certain that there would be a revolution, and he began to prepare for it. The main thing that he was afraid of was that, in some popular tumult, a capture of himself, or of any of the principal people on his side, would be effected by his opponents. x.] icitntaj, 273 He was determined to profit by the revolution, but to have no hand whatever in making it. He wished that whatever step he might take, should appear to have been forced upon him. The main terror of his life, as we know, was lest the tribes of the North, already possessing the knowledge of iron, should come down upon his nation, and enslave it before he had com- pleted his manufacture of that metal. He had long come to the conclusion that a despotism would be preferable to that. The preparations that he made to prevent his being suddenly captured, were these : In his principal room he secretly contrived that, near the entrance, a part of the flooring should descend into the water upon his cutting a cord. This was for his enemies. For his own escape, he made a trap- door at the further end of the room. Beneath this opening he had a boat suspended. There was room between the lower flooring of some of the better houses in Abibah (and Realm ah's was one) and the water, to navigate a boat, pushing it along from one pile to another. By these means he would be able to reach the water-stairs of the residence of his uncle, the chief of the East. He knew from his spies the very day upon which a general outbreak was intended to be made. Early on that day he took care that the whole of the guard should be assembled in the guard-room attached to the house of the chief of the East. Realmah remained in his own house, resolved to take no active part until some step of violence had been taken by the other side. On some pretext he contrived to remove Talora to the house of his uncle, while he and the Varnah remained at home waiting the event. The opposite side were well aware of the sagacity of Realmah, and had arranged that a party of their adherents should attack him in his house, and that two of their principal partisans should pay him a visit T 274 UaImaIj, [CHAP. of courtesy an hour before the attack was to be made, in order that they might be sure of knowing where he was, and of being able to secure him. Accordingly, in the evening, these two noblemen, Tapu and Paradee, paid their ceremonial visit. The crafty Realmah con- trived to place them immediately over that part of the floor which he could make descend into the water. The guests talked upon indifferent subjects, and then afterwards ventured to discuss the dangerous state of political affairs. Realmah went on discoursing plati- tudes and keeping up the conversation in an easy manner. Soon the noise of a great tumult was heard. The revolution had broken out before the appointed time. Indeed, revolutions are seldom conducted with the needful punctuality. Some of the rioters had made at once for Realmah's house, had broken through the outer doors, and now rushed into the apartment. The two guests then changed their tone, and demanded that Realmah should surrender to them. Having gained what he wanted, namely, this overt act of rebellion, he let the flooring drop beneath them ; and, in the confusion that ensued, he and the Varnah escaped in the manner he had planned to the house of his uncle, the chief of the East. Realmah then hastened to put into operation the plan that he had long determined upon. There were certain officers in the state whose functions cannot be better described than by saying that they were like those of Spanish alguazils. Realmah's scheme was to arrest the principal conspirators by means of these alguazils (whose fidelity he had taken great pains to secure), giving to each one of them a guard of ten men. Those attendants he had furnished from the tribe of the fishermen and of the ironworkers who were devoted to him. The conduct of Realmah at this crisis was widely different from that of Athlah ; and a philosophic x.] amitr. 275 student of history, a kind of person not known in Abibah, might have added to his store one more notable instance of the way in which revolutions are made, and of the kind of characters which guide them. Athlah, as we know, was not merely a stalwart man of war, but also a very considerable person in council and debate. At any rate, he had always something to say, and people were always willing to hear what he said. Those chiefs who were loyal to the present system of government, when the tumult had begun, rushed to the house of the chief of the East. An irre- gular sort of council was held. Realmah briefly explained his long-matured plan. Athlah raised all manner of objections not that he wished to object, for he was sincerely anxious to find a remedy for the present state of things. But when the time for swift action came, this bold hardy man, an excellent lieu- tenant in war, could not see his way to a course of action ; and his mind was filled with doubts, scruples, and difficulties. "They had no authority," he said, " to interfere with the other quarters of the town. The West was to govern the West, just as the East governed the East, without interference. The proceedings suggested by Realmah would be a perfect breach of the constitution. He, for one, could not take such a responsibility upon himself." He did not use such a fine word as responsibility. The equivalent for it in their language was "tying n knot," and Athlah said he could not tie such a knot. The truth is that Realmah could tie a knot, a feat which the daring Athlah could not accom- plish. Realmah replied, " The counsel that I gave, will not be the counsel that I should give when that water T 2 276 |Ua;imafr. [CHAP. has ceased to pour. 1 It must be taken at once, or rejected for ever. Great Lords, Dividers of Bread, I see that you agree with me ; and I hasten to exe- cute your commands." So saying-, Realmah quitted the room. The great Lords, Dividers of Bread, were secretly glad that anybody would take upon himself the burden of tying a knot, and save them the agony of deciding what should be done at this dangerous crisis. There were not wanting some of the baser sort who said to themselves that they could here- after declare that they had not assented to Realmah's counsel, and so they should be safe whatever might happen. Perhaps Realmah's well-devised plans might alto- gether have failed but for a piece of singular good fortune. A violent storm of wind and rain came on that evening. Revolutions require, before all things, fine weather. The populace gradually dispersed. In that part of the town which was subject to the chief of the East, the alguazils and their body-guards suc- ceeded in capturing, by domiciliary visits, the chief conspirators, of whom Realmah had long ago made a careful list. The other quarters of the town were not so well managed. The chief of the West was slain at the first outbreak ; and the chiefs of the North and the South had, in a most dastardly manner, fled. The moment that the capture had been made of the prin- cipal conspirators in the Eastern quarter, Realmah felt himself strong enough to pursue the same system in the North and in the South. Before daybreak, three-quarters of the city owned the rule of the chief of the East ; that is, practically speaking, of his wise and energetic nephew, Realmah. A sharp encounter took place between the insurgents in the Western 1 They measured time by the falling of water from a vessel with a -small hole in it, resembling the klepsydra. 277 quarter and the troops who remained faithful in the other three-quarters of the town, in which contest the insurgents were completely worsted. CHAPTER XXII. REALMAH BECOMES KING. THE city was now in peace. Order had been restored ; and all the sensible inhabitants of Abibah felt that to Realmah this peace and order were due. No member of the family of the chief of the West had come for- ward to take his place. The flight of the chiefs of the North and of the South was looked upon as an act of abdication on their part. The councils of these quarters of the town met together, and it was almost unanimously resolved (what was done in one council not being, at the time, known in the others) that the chiefdom of each quarter should be offered to Realmah. His aged uncle, the great chief of the East, upon hear- ing the determinations of the several councils, said that he would abdicate in favour of his nephew, who should thenceforward be king of the whole nation. It is curious to observe that, from their having a word in their language for king, the kingly form of govern- ment must, at some time or other, have prevailed amongst them. There was an ancient proverb to this effect, " Lakaree 1 slapped the king's white face when he was dead!' The principal men of the several councils presented themselves before Realmah, and tendered to him this kingly office. He asked for twenty-four hours to deliberate. The evening after he had received these men was 1 A cant name for one of the lowest class of weavers. 278 llculmaff. [CHAP. like the one that has been described at the beginning of this story. The atmosphere was cloudless, and the stars were visible. Realmah walked out upon the balcony overlooking the lake, which he had walked upon in the early days of his career, and when his chief thought had been how to defeat the wiles of the ambassador of the Phelatahs. What great events had happened to him during the interval that had passed ! He had been comparatively an obscure young man when he first walked up and down that balcony, and gazed upon those stars. Since then, he had been in battles ; had performed the part of a conqueror, and endured that of a prisoner. He had been madly in love with the beautiful Talora ; and now, if he told the truth, her charms had very small attraction for him. The despised Ainah had taken with her, to her untimely grave, all the capability for love that there was in him. Since that first walk, too, on the balcony, he had become a great inventor; and his discovery of iron, he felt, would be the chief safeguard for his nation. These were the principal subjects of thought for Realmah ; but there were others which will force themselves upon the minds of all poetic and imagina- tive people when they regard the unclouded heavens, and think of, or guess at, the great story which those heavens can tell them. Perhaps a starlight night is the greatest instructor that is permitted, otherwise than in revelation, to address mankind. Realmah could not know what science has taught us. We now know that, in contem- plating those heavens, we are looking at an historical scene which makes all other histories trivial and transitory. That speck of light which we call a star, is an emanation which proceeded from its origin thousands of years ago perhaps, and may not in any manner represent the state of the star at the present x.] Ilciidnab. 279 day. Then, again, it is not as if we were reading the history of any one past period ; but we are reading the commingled history of innumerable ages, widely distant from each other. 1 If men thoroughly entered into the spirit of this strange, weird scene, it would be the greatest cure for ambition, vanity, and avarice that has ever been devised. Milverton. You see, Sir Arthur, that I have stolen your thunder. Realmah, however, gazed upon it with the ignorant eyes of one comparatively a savage. And yet the wonderful scene had a strange influence upon him, and roused in his mind those thoughts which are common to all thinking men, and which, as we have seen, had before, on a remarkable occasion, been present to his mind ; namely : " Whence am I ? What am I ? What am I here for ? What does it all mean ? " thoughts which are never without a wild kind of melancholy, the melancholy of an inquiring and unsatisfied soul. And then he turned to business. There were motives which made him hesitate, now that the opportunity had come, to accept the greatness thrust upon him. I have said that, after the death of the Ainah, he had become am- bitious. But still his nature was to a great extent like that of Hamlet, as described by our great poet, who felt it so hard that rough action, and dire struggle with the world around him, should be forced upon one 1 The idea in the text is very difficult to realize, or to express. To compare small things with great, this illustration may be used. It is as if a man of the present day were to see (not to read about, but to see) Lord George Gordon's riots, Louis the Fourteenth's conquest of P'landers, Charlemagne's slaughter of the Saxons, Hannibal's victory at Cannae, the building of the hundred-gated Thebes, and weary Methuselah celebrating his seven hundredth birthday all at the same time, these scenes having reached his eyes at th'j same mo- ment, and being for him the story of the present day. 280 HUalmajj* [CHAP. who would far rather contemplate the ways of men than be in any measure mixed up with them. Moreover, there was one thought that plagued Realmah, and drove him like a goad; namely, the consideration as to who should be his successor to the throne for he was childless. After long ponder- ing, he resolved that he would adopt some youth, the worthiest of the scions of those noble houses which had fallen from their high estate in the sudden revolution. With a sigh he congratulated himself, or rather the state, upon his being childless. " For," as he said to himself, " any child of mine might be most unworthy to succeed me ; but it will be hard if I cannot dis- cover one amongst these young men of noble family, who should be able to guide the kingdom when I am old, or dead/' This thought soothed his mind ; and, as the cold grey light of early morning broke in upon his meditations, he had completely made up his mind how to act, in every particular, on this, the greatest occasion of his life. He had resolved, unhesitatingly, to be the King of the Sheviri. Ellesmere. I am an ass, an idiot, a dolt, a dunce, a blockhead, and a dunderhead. All the rough, rude things that my enemies say against me are true. All the utter- ances of the refined malice of my friends are true. Yes, Cranmer. you are right. I cannot be sure of doing a simple sum in addition correctly. Say what you like of me, all of you. Whatever any theologian has said of any other theologian, who differs from him slightly, is true of me. Whatever any editor of any Greek play has said of any former editor of the same Greek play, is true of me. Whatever any elderly lady who attends the Billingsgate Market and sells fish, says of any other elderly lady engaged in the same vocation, who sells her fish at a lower price, is true of me. x.j |lealmalj 281 Whatever any " Right Honourable friend " who has left the Cabinet, says of any other " Right Honourable friend " who remains in the Cabinet, is true of me. Sir Arthur. No, no, Ellesmere ; keep within some bounds. Mauleverer. Whence comes this sudden burst of just, but long-deferred, self-appreciation? Ellesmere. I have been puzzling my brain for weeks to find out what this man was at, and I now see that I ought to have perceived his drift at once. The first syllable of the word Realmah ought to have enlightened me. Of course he was to become king; and of course, he is to initiate a form of government, or a mode of foreign policy, which is to be eminently instructive in modern times. I am disgusted. I have been bothered about all these love affairs : I have been worried about the smelting of iron-stones : my feelings my tenderest feelings have been harrowed by the death of the Ainah ; and now I find that I have gone through all this suffering, only that I might become interested in the character and fortunes of Real- mah, and therefore be induced to listen more patiently to the record of his official and diplomatic proceedings. I am a dupe. Mr. Milverton did not make any reply to this outburst of Sir John Ellesmere's, but continued the reading of the story. CHAPTER XXIII. THE KING PROVIDES AGAINST FAMINE : HIS COUNCILLORS. REALMAH'S first care upon coming to the throne was to provide against the famine which threatened the inhabitants of Abibah. In his mode of doing this, he struck, as it were, the key-note of the policy he was about to pursue throughout his reign. He deter- 282 Eealmah. [CHAP. mined to persuade the Phelatahs to supply him with provisions. He accordingly addressed a letter to their chiefs. It may surprise the reader to hear that there was any mode of communication amongst the dwellers in the Lake cities which can be likened to the writing of a letter. The Peruvians kept their records by means of the quippus, which was a tassel composed of threads of different colours, having knots in them at different lengths in the threads. The inhabitants of the Lake cities had adopted a similar system, only that they used shells instead of threads ; and the differences of form and colour of the shells corresponded with the differences of interval in the knotted lengths and of the colours of the threads in the Peruvian quippus. This seems a very rude and difficult mode of writing, but practice made it easy ; and those who were much practised in it, could read and write with comparative facility. Realmah's letter to the chiefs of the Phelatahs was as follows : " Your eldest brother, I, Realmak, the King of the SJieviri, by Londardo with the four feather s t to the great Lords and Dividers of Bread of the Phelatahs, send greeting, and desire for them health, honour, wealth, and quails. [The four feathers were the insignia of an ambas- sador ; and quails meant abundance, alluding to the immense flocks of those birds which, at certain times of the year, passed over those regions of the earth, and furnished the inhabitants with food for many days.] " The koopha? when set free, forgets the hardship of 1 Ring dove. x.i |EcaIma. 283 its captivity, and remembers only the kindness that it received when it was in its cage. The great king's heart is larger and more loving than that of the little koopJia. " What Jie did, whom yon vvould ivish to love as a friend, let it be as a bad dream, not to be tJiouglit over in tJie good daytime, for he did it mistakenly. "For both, the same moon above ; for both, the same waters beneath ; the same day for both, when the almond trees, blossoming with joy, tell that summer has come back again: why should the Phelatahs and the Sheviri shoot arrows at each other ? They should sing the same song on the same day to the dear summer wlien she returns to them. " The wild bulls may stamp their forefeet as if to the sound of the mithral, 1 but if one moves out of the line, coming forward or drawing backward, all is lost, and the little young lions in their dens have much food. " The men of the North are as a lion, and the young lions are many. " Paravi' 2 has been good to the PJielataJis, but has hidden her face from the Sheviri, and would not behold them. The good goddess makes tilings uneven so that good men may make them even again, for she is always wise and loving. " The young maidens of Abibah droop like the lilies when the stars drink up the dew before the morning, and there is no rain. The mothers in Abibah almost wish t/iat their children were dead, for they have no food to give them. " What need I say more f The generous do not love to have many words said to them. It is I who Jiave written this. " I, Rcalmah, the King? 1 A musical instrument resembling the flute. 2 The goddess of fertility. 284 JGLealmafr. [CHAP. We may smile at this extraordinary production, but there is something touching and tender, and not without dignity, in the way in which these poor people expressed their thoughts. It was a point of high diplomatic politeness not to say anything directly, but in tropes and similes, with proverbs and with fables ; in fact, to write always allusively, but so that the allusions should be understood by any intelligent person cognizant of the facts. This missive was entrusted to Londardo, who, without delay, was to proceed to Abinamanche. His secret instructions were, to put himself into communication with Koorali, who was friendly to Realmah ; to proclaim everywhere that the govern- ment had been thrust upon Realmah ; that the King's main object was to unite all the people of the South against the threatened invasion of the North ; and, if he found great difficulty in obtaining the main object of his mission, to declare very plainly that the Sheviri would come and take the food they wanted, and that desperate men were desperate enemies to deal with. The above commands were given in full council to Londardo. There was, however, another instruction, most secret, given by the King alone. It was to the effect that Londardo might delicately ridicule the King, showing by shrugs of the shoulder and smiles, and dubious words uttered only to a few of the Phelatahs, very confidentially (" It will spread enough," said Realmah), that he, Londardo, thought their new King almost a maniac on the subject of his fears of the men of the North. " Possess them with that idea," said the subtle Realmah, " convince them that I mean to be an ally, and not an enemy, and so we may prevent their fighting us now now, when my people are hunger-stricken, and my power is not confirmed." Londardo succeeded in his mission *.] gUalmajr* 285 and thus the first difficulty in Realmah's reign was overcome. Londardo was one of Realmah's chief councillors ; and, before proceeding to enumerate the principal events of the reign, it will be well to give an account of these men. They were selected by the King from the four councils that had been attached to the four chiefs who had ruled over the town. First there was Lariska, who was thought to be the wisest man in the kingdom. But there were great drawbacks upon his wisdom. He spun out innume- rable arguments, and had always a great deal to produce for, or against, any given course of action. There was, however, this terrible defect in him that an argument was valued according to its purely argu- mentative value, rather than according to the nature of the thing it touched. For example : if there were an argument which affected eighty parts of the trans- action debated upon the whole transaction being represented by the number one hundred to Lariska that argument was not of more value, and not more to be insisted upon, than some argument which affected only one one-hundredth part of the trans- action, but which was interesting and curious as an argument. In short, as the Court jester observed, Lariska never made any difference in his nets, whether for panthers or for rabbits. Then there was Bibi. He was really a very able man ; but he habitually placed the expression of his opinion under severe restraint ; and his mode of declaring approval, or disapproval, was so cold, that Realmah had to study Bibi's lightest words in order to ascertain what he really meant Realmah used to invite Bibi frequently to his table, and was wont to talk to him upon State affairs when the strong- est bowls of mead had circulated freely round the board. 286 Brulmalr. [CHAP. Then there was Delaimah-Daree, who was a won- derful man, not only for producing arguments, but for suggesting resources. His extraordinary fertility, however, dwarfed his powers of conclusiveness ; and, after an admirable speech in council, Realmah did not know how Delaimah-Daree wished any question to be settled. The lines of his thought were all parallel, and never met in a focus. As Philip van Artevelde says of the mind of some councillor " A mind it is Accessible to reason's subtlest rays, And many enter there, but none converge." Then there was that burly old man, full of sagacity, named Brotah. He always took a common-sense view of every matter, and his counsel was often most valuable ; but he was greatly influenced by personal feelings. He said what he said, because somebody else had said the other thing. You had therefore to abstract from his advice the personality of it, before you could tell whether it was either good or bad. It was to be observed of Brotah that he delighted at being in a minority. Then there was Lavoura, a refined and delicate- minded man, who always suggested indirect and sometimes sinister ways. You were never to meet the matter in hand directly ; but you were to do, or say, something quite remote from it, which was to come back in some wonderful manner upon the question at issue. Had Realmah known the principle of the boomerang, he would have called Lavoura his boomerang councillor. Realmah himself was a little too much inclined at times to adopt Lavoura's advice not seeing that this is not the right way for a great king to govern. Then there was Delemnah a bluff, coarse, sensible man, who nt-ver was for adopting a roundabout way, or x.] |jLeaIma{f. 287 even a delicate way of doing anything-, but believed in brute force, and almost worshipped it. He and Lavoura generally spoke against one another in council. Then there was Marespi. He did not indulge in many opinions of his own ; but, after a matter had been much debated by others, he had the keenest perception of how the votes would go, and was fond of being on the winning side. He was im- mensely guided by what was said out of doors of any measure of the Government ; and a tumult in the street was a thing that quite ruled his views of policy. Then there was Londardo. He was a man with a large noble mask of a face, with very bright black eyes, who indulged in obstreperous laughter, and had a habit of rubbing his hands together in a boisterous manner that expressed the continual joy and fun that was bubbling up in him. He was a very sensible person, and absolutely invaluable as a peace-maker. In the pleasantest manner he could tell two coun- cillors, who were about to quarrel, that they were two fools ; and he would even get up from the council- table, and shake them, contriving with exquisite tact, perhaps, to make a remark that should tend to con- ciliate the opponents, such as, " You are the last two men who should ever disagree, for did I not hear him say of you the other day, that you were one of the best of men, and one of the cleverest of us all ? Now do not be.fools. We have not time for folly; and if we disagree amongst ourselves, how are the people to be governed ? " He was the man who proposed that refreshments should always be brought in when there was a council, and would contrive that the eating time should arrive very opportunely. He was of great service to the King, performing that part of rude conciliation which it would have been quite undignified for Realmah himself to undertake. 288 lUulmab. [CHAP. In the higher circles of the Sheviri there were always stories current about Londardo. It was told of him that, when debates at the council were dull, he would absolutely have the audacity to go to sleep ; but that, somehow or other, when he woke up, it always seemed as if he knew all about what was going on. There was a story, too, of how, at a council in the first year of Realmah's reign, when the King had made some subtle proposal, Londardo had observed, " Well, you are the craftiest young chief that ever sat upon a throne ; but do not be so over- clever; for, after all, kings should be plain, blunt sort of fellows something like me, only with better manners." Also, on a memorable occasion, when there was great division in the council, and when a tumult of discord arose amongst the councillors, Londardo got up, and placed his broad back against the door, saying, " Now I do not care a snail's shell how the thing goes. One way is as good as another, and the arguments for and against anything are always about equal ; but one way you must go, and you do not pass through this door till you are all of one mind as to which way that shall be. Right or wrong, decide something ; and stick to it." And they did decide something ; and did stick to it. Then there was Llama-Mah. He was an adroit, clever man, but withal a poor creature, a thorough flatterer by nature, whose only object at a council was to discern what was the King's opinion upon any matter, and to vote as the King would wish. Realmah, at first, could not endure this man, and was, for some time, very cold in his demeanour to him. But the allurements of flattery and of con- stant assent are so powerful, that, eventually, the great King was overcome by the assiduities of Llama- Mah, and began to look upon him as one of his 289 truest friends. It was, at last, " My good Llama- Mali has said it ; " or " Llama-Mah has made a very sound observation ; " or " We must wait to hear what Llama-Mah will say." Let this not be wondered at. A life-time is so short, and life is so difficult, that we are glad to avail ourselves of the services of any human creature who is good enough, and wise enough, always to be of our opinion. Lastly, there was Litervi, who was more of a judge than a councillor. He seemed to have no ideas of his own, and always managed to speak last, summing up carefully, and with great discrimination, what the others had counselled. It is not to be supposed that these able men are thoroughly described in these short characters given of them, or that they acted always consistently with these characters. Sometimes Delemnah was timid. Sometimes Lavoura was brave. Sometimes De- laimah-Daree was conclusive. Sometimes Londardo was not sweet-tempered. Sometimes, but very rarely, Litervi hazarded a remark of his own. This was not altogether from inconsistency ; but men know what others think of them, and how they are expected to think and act, and, as they do not like to be shut up in a character, they sometimes go in quite a contrary way to that which they know is expected of them. Besides, there are profound inconsistencies of cha- racter. Litervi, the most cautious of men, who adored delay, was, during the twenty-four hours that preceded Realmah's accession to the throne, the most bold and unscrupulous of councillors ; and you could perceive that there was in the same man the nature of a daring conspirator, and of a timid and procras- tinating judge. It may seem surprising that so many eminent men should have been collected together in one council; U 290 wmar. [CHAP. but the truth is, that among semi-civilized people, as amongst boys at school, and young men at college, the right persons are almost always chosen. It is true that there were strong lines of demarcation of rank among the Sheviri, and there was no chance of any man being made a councillor who was not in the highest class ; but in that class the most just and wise choice was made of men fit to counsel and to rule. 1 Such were the councillors with whom Realmah undertook to govern the great kingdom of the Sheviri, which, under his government, gradually increased until it embraced an extent of country three hundred and seventy miles in length, and something like one hundred and eighty in breadth. It was a piece of good fortune for Realmah that he was one of those men who could listen carefully to counsel of various kinds, and have the courage to abide by it, or neglect it, as it suited his great purposes. Elksmere. Well, now we have Realmah and his coun- cillors before us, and a precious set of crafty scoundrels they are. I know this, that I should not have liked to have lived in that time, and to have been a chief possessing any territory within 300 miles' distance from Abibah. I feel certain that I should have been absorbed by these Marespis, Llama-Mahs, and Realmahs. I suspect we have all sat for our portraits, and that bits of us, at any rate, are to be found in the characters ot 1 The idea of a man's wealth being any reason why he should be made a councillor would have been one impossible for the Sheviri to contemplate. They would not even have thought it a joke, but rather a suggestion made by a man about to have a fever, if any one had suggested that Pom-Pom, the richest man in Abibah, but one of the most foolish, should be made a councillor. In fact, they thought that a councillor should be a man able to give counsel. But then semi- savages are so blunt and rude, and childish in their ideas ; and their ways of going on are quite different from those of civilized people. x] these councillors. I do not, however, see any Mauleverer amongst them. Probably Realmah thought that he could do all the melancholy part of the business for himself. There is no mention made of a clerk of the council, but I sup- pose, when he is described, that Cranmer will sit for the portrait a good, steady official man, with no nonsense about him, having no regard for fables or falsities of any kind, except perhaps for Potochee and her crew, because age would have rendered any institution respectable in his eyes, even that of wizardry and witchcraft. But I must go and play a game of quoits with Tommy Jessom. By the way, it would, be a good thing in any council to have a boy. His counsel would be so direct and honest, and he would not make long speeches. After a fearful speech by Lariska, or by that other fellow who never brought his manifold suggestions to a point, what a treat it would be to hear Tommy Jessom exclaim, " I vote we go in and lick 'em." or, " 1 vote we cave in." I do not pledge myself to explain the exact meaning of the expres- sion " cave in ; " but Tommy has taught it me : and I observe he always uses it when he is about to yield to my superior prowess. A woman, too, would be a great acquisition to a council, as bringing an amount of coirmon sense and steady regard for present advantage which aie often wanting in a council composed of men only. There ! Have I not compensated by this speech for all the rude truths I may have uttered during my life-time about women ? You may kiss my hand, Mildred and Blanche, in token of your gratitude. Here Ellesmere held out his hand, but only re- ceived a sharp slap upon it from his wife, whereupon he went away declaiming loudly against the inveterate ingratitude of women. The others followed him, and our party was broken up for the day. U 2 292 canui'. [CHAP. CHAPTER XL I MUST make some apology for what I am going to narrate in this chapter. I have been asked to give the story, written by myself, to which I alluded in a former chapter ; and, as a sensible young lady sits down to play at the piano when she is asked, whether she is a good or an indifferent performer, so I think I had better give this story at once rather than show any tiresomely modest reluctance to do so. On the day when I told the story, we met in the study, after luncheon, for the weather was stormy, and the gentlemen were not inclined to venture out. The ladies, however, had gone to hear a confirmation sermon. Mr. Milverton began the conversation. Milverton. We are to have something new to-day. Johnson is going to give us a bit of his experience of life. EHesmere. Babes and sucklings ! A discourse on coral, eh? Sir John seemed to have forgotten, or pretended to have forgotten, that he had himself asked me to write a story. Milverton. I can tell you it is very good, and very deep. EHesmere. Oh yes ! we know ! Milverton has a forty- woman power of prejudice in favour of his friends. Any- thing that they do must be admirable. And, as for his secretary, who is part of himself, whatever he does is good enough for the Revue dc.s deux Maudes. I wonder what mischief Sandy has been hatching. I have observed he has been very thoughtful lately, and has been an execrable companion. O Sandy the clever one ! drinker-in of wisdom from many fountains of that fluid ! 293 And oh the delight of a well-woven story that agitates the mind with pleasing alternations of hope and fear ! Milverton* What do you mean, Ellesmere, by that non- sense? Ellesmere. It is an imitation, and not a bad one, I think, of one of Paul Louis Courier's best bits. He was ridiculing some of the French lawyers for their hibit of apostrophizing, which, however, he said he had adopted himself; for, when at home, he did not ask his servant Nicole simply to bring his slippers, but exclaimed, " O mes panlonflcs / et toi, Nicole, et toi I " And so, instead of asking Sandy to give us his story, I exclaim, "Oh the cleverness of Sandy ! And oh the beauty of a good story ! " But what is it about, though ? A treatise, in the disguise of a story, on weights and measures ? An essay, disguised as a tale, on the system of decimal notation ? If it is, I go. Friendship has its limits. I like Sandy very much ; but one must draw a line somewhere : and I draw the line by refusing to listen to any essay on decimal notation, even from my dearest friend. Milverton. Make your mind quite easy, Ellesmere ; and, Alick, do not wait for any more talk, but begin at once. Johnson. I begin by saying that it has always been admitted that the Scotch possess peculiar prophetic powers, as I may instance by their well-known powers of second sight. And now I commence my story. When I was a youth I went to visit my uncle, a small tenant-farmer and fisherman, who lived in the extreme north of Scotland on the sea-side. Boy-like, I was always about amongst the boats, which were new things to one who had hitherto lived far inland. One morning I succeeded, by dint of great efforts, in pushing my uncle's boat down to the margin of the sea. I got into it, and rocked it about from side to side. In a few minutes it happened that a great wave came rushing up the shore a ninth wave, I suppose it was and when the recoil of the waters came, the boat, to my dismay, was afloat ; and a strong wind from the shore carried me out to sea. Ellesmere. Of course you had some haggis with you ? 294 mmaj, [CHAP Johnso?i No, Sir John ; but I had two bannocks which my good aunt had given me after breakfast, knowing that I should not return to the house for hours. But I had.no water. For three days I was driven further and further out to sea. What I suffered from thirst no man, who has not gone through similar suffering, can imagine. I think I should have died if it had not been for a slight shower which fell at the end of the second day, some drops of which I caught in my bonnet. On the morning of the fourth day, after my departure, I neared an island. To my great astonishment, a number of people were on the shore and made signs of welcome to me. The moment I landed, a young girl handed me a beautiful shell, full of water. The people were all dressed in a fashion quite unknown to me. After turning me round several times, and pulling about my clothes in the way in which savages examine the dress of civilized men, and asking me many questions which I could neither fully understand nor answer, I was taken to the hut, near the shore, of the father of the girl who had given me the water. His name was Piton. Her name was Effra. They showed me a couch of heather ; gave me some dried fish to eat ; and, after I had eaten it, I lay down and went to sleep for four-and-twenty hours. When I awoke, and was refreshed with food, I went out of the hut, and wandered about the island. It was very beautiful. Doubtless the beneficent Gulf Stream made the surrounding waters warm and the climate tempe- rate. The language was very like Scotch : indeed it was Scotch, only that there were many old words in it such as I had never heard any one but my grandfather make use of. I soon became familiar with the language. It is such an easy thing to learn a language when one is taught by a girl like Effra. I was allowed to roam about the island as I pleased ; but, to my dismay, I found that my boat had been hauled up some distance from the beach, and had been firmly fastened to stakes driven into the earth, so that I could not move it XT.] eamaf. 295 After I had been a few weeks in the island, Pitou asked me if I would like to see the House of Wisdom. He did not use the word " wisdom," but said the House of Direc- tion for Head, Heart, and Hand. You will readily consent to my abridging the title. I assented to Pitou's suggestion. We then went to the only building of any pretension to architecture in the island. I had often noticed it in my rambles ; but had never ventured to approach it, thinking it to be the residence of the chief of the island, who might not approve of my coming into his presence unsent for. The first persons I saw, and who were in a sort of out-house, had a painful, anxious, subdued look about them, most unpleasant to behold. They glanced at me for a moment, and then seemed to look far away over my head. Then they muttered something to one another which I could not understand. " Those are the Spoolans," said Pitou to me. It is almost impossible to give an idea of the contempt which Pitou threw into his pronunciation of the word " Spoolans." " Two foolish old fellows," he added. Now, they were not old. One was quite young, and the other only middle-aged. What can Pitou mean? I thought. After making a gesture of contempt, which was done by bringing his two hands together close to his mouth, and then throwing them suddenly from his mouth, as if he said, " I have collected all their merits together, and find them to be naught," Pitou departed. I could not help looking back at these two poor men, who must have seen this gesture ; but they were evidently used to such demon- strations, and merely looked wistfully over Pitou's head into the far country and the distant sea. We then went into a shed on the right hand of the prin- cipal building. Here there were six men. These men also looked very miserable, but there was not that abject and hopeless appearance about them that there had been about the Spoolans. They were better clothed too ; the Spoolans were in rags. I made my bow, and then Pitou said to me, " The Raths ! " Then he added, " It's no good 296 CHAP. staying here. Come on ; " but, as we departed, he did not make any gesture of contempt. We then ascended a flight of steps which led to trie principal building. It consisted of three chambers on the lower story, and two on the upper. We went into the left-hand room on the lower story. There were five men here. They were well-dressed, and, though exceedingly thoughtful, did not seem to be unhappy. Pitou made a bow to them, and then saying to me, " The Uraths," conducted me out of the apartment. We then went into the right-hand chamber. Here there were four men. These were handsomely dressed, were evidently in good spirits, and altogether in good case. Pitou made three low obeisances ; and, as if introducing me, said, "The Auraths,"and then added, "The Boy from the Black Land." I made my obeisances, imitating Pitou, and we walked out. We then entered the centre chamber. Here were seated two men, very well dressed and very jovial-looking, and with an imperious air about them. When Pitou came into their presence, he was abject. It was not merely that he indulged in bows and genuflexions ; but he almost crawled before them. u The Mauraths/' he said; and then pointing to me, " Your servant from the Black Land." I then made sundry bows I could not condescend to crawl, like Pitou and we quitted that apartment. Then we went upstairs into a sort of ante-chamber, that was crowded with people. A way, however, was made for us, and we entered the principal chamber of the building. Here was seated, in great state, a coarse, fat, jovial-looking, rubicund man, who seemed to me to spend half his time in laughing about nothing. He was waited upon by persons who knelt to him. If Pitou had been abject before, in approaching the Mauraths, it was nothing compared to his abjectness now. He pulled me down on the ground, and dragging me after him, crawled to the feet of the laughing man. Then he said, " The /unaurath ;" and afterwards, pointing to me, " Your slave from the Black Land." Then, shading his face with his hands, as if he could not bear the xi.l liculmalr. 207 splendour of the jolly chief's commonplace countenance, Pitou crawled backwards, pulling me with him. Then we went home. I should think that on the face of the earth that day there was not a more puzzled and bewildered individual than I was. As we walked home I remained silent ; but Pitou kept exclaiming, " O the beloved young man ! O the beautiful Being ! O the Basketful of Direction for Head, Heart, and Hand ! " I thought Pitou had gone crazy, especially as I understood him to apply these exclamations to the stout, rubicund, middle-aged, laughing gentleman we had just left. After I had a little overcome my amazement, I questioned Pitou and Effra as to what all this meant. It was not until after many hours' talk on that and on the succeeding day that I began to understand the whole matter. These twenty men whom I had seen in the House of Wisdom were prophets, or were supposed to be prophets. At any rate, they had remarkable gifts of foresight. But these gifts differed very much in value. For instance, the wretched Spoolans only foresaw what would happen after a hundred years had passed : the unfortunate Raths, what would happen after twenty-seven years : the Uraths, after a year : the Au- raths, after a month : the Mauraths, after three days : while the great Amaurath, that genial prophet and potentate, could foretell what would happen after the next six hours. The extent of their prophetic powers was after this fashion that each set of prophets foresaw for as long a time as that which had to elapse between the present and the time at which their power came into play. For instance, the Amaurath's duration of prophetic vision, if I may so describe it, was for six hours : that of the Mauraths for three days : and so on with all the rest. The latter four classes foresaw only, or chiefly, material damage or material good. Moreover, they could not ex- plain much about their prophecies. They could not tell you about the means to the ends which they foresaw; while on the other hand the despised Raths and Spoolans hail great width and depth of foresight. But who cares to know what will happen twenty-seven years hence, still less what will happen a hundred years hence? I now quite under 298 |tealffia|r. [CHAP. stood the sorry garb of the Raths, and the absolute rags of the Spoolans. As time went on I became familiar with the inhabitants of the House of Direction for Head, Heart, and Hand. The jolly old chief would laugh his loudest when he saw his slave from the Black Land. These people had some- what of an aversion and distrust for any person who lived upon a continent. They used to say, the bigger the land he comes from, the worse the man ; and they preferred to remain quite isolated from the rest of the world. They naturally supposed me to come from a continent ; but gra- dually they came to tolerate me, and were very kind to me. This freedom of entry into the great House would have given anybody much knowledge of the world who had brought any of such knowledge to begin with. But I was a simple youth of eighteen, and could profit but little by what I heard. The world seemed then to me, and indeed seems now, like a play, or an opera, acted before you in a lan- guage you do not understand. There are very emphatic gestures ; and the principal per- formers come together in twos, threes, and fours ; and they lift up their hands, and appeal to the audience very earnestly about something. They do not seem to have much to say to one another. Then somebody seems to hate somebody else very much, but you do not make out why. Also somebody, always a tenor (why tenors should be the only men who ever fall in love I cannot understand), loves some soprano very much, and there is a stage embrace, which does not seem to count for much ; especially as the gentleman and lady on the stage make most of their love respectively to a lady and gentleman apparently in the upper gallery. Then there is a chorus of very clean peasants, who never have anything to do with clay soils, and who seem happy, and are certainly noisy, about something ; and then there is some dancing, of which you cannot exactly construe the meaning. And then there is a good deal of scuffling amongst the minor performers ; but whatever they do, it never interferes with the singing of the principal performers. The politeness is wonderful; fetters are never put by the xi.] |lc3lma;!j. 299 little people on the great people until they have quite finished their songs. And then somebody, generally the principal lady or gen- tleman, seems resolved to die, and takes a long time about it, but keeps in good voice, if not in good heart to the end. And then the curtain falls down, and he or she comes on looking very smiling and gracious ; and then the audience rush away to catch cold in the passages. When you go home and have to tell the story of the play, and endeavour to do so, it must often be a story that differs considerably from the one that you were intended to listen to and understand. But I suppose one makes out quite as much, and quite as accurately, about this piay-story as about the story of the men and women who surround you. Now here was an opportunity for getting nearer to the heart of things, and making out what people really wished for ; but, as I said before, this grand opportunity was given to a mere lad. Still I remarked some things which, perhaps, were worth observing. I was with the Raths one day. I used to frequent the rooms of those who could prophesy distant things to a degree that astonished the other inhabitants of the island. Suddenly there entered a handsome young man who was celebrated for his skill in minstrelsy. He had come to ask the question whether he would be famous in future years. The Raths told him that neither his fame, nor even his name, nor the songs he sang, nor the music which he sang them to, would be known to any human being in twenty-seven years' time. He went away very sad ; and I noticed that the mean fellow carried off some honey-cakes which he had doubtless brought as a present if the response should be favourable. The Raths looked wistfully after the honey- cakes ; but they were obliged to tell the truth : and they told it, and remained hungry. Again, everywhere throughout the building there was a buzzing sound, on the days of audience, of the word " Means," or something like it. Beans, beans, beans, no- thing but beans. I was puzzled at first, but soon found out that a wild bean, much smaller than ours, passed for 3 jeama, [CHAP. money; and there were constant questions about beans addressed to the short-time prophets. Would beans be more or less valuable? would there be many found this year? A whole boat-load of these beans had once come from a neighbouring island, and had been exchanged for dried fish and other articles of small value. The disturb- ance this had caused amongst the beaned (I mean the moneyed) men of the island was fearful ; and a frequent question was whether any such pestilential cargo would soon come again. The prophets took no share in the government of the island. But they were often secretly consulted by the ruling men, or by those who aspired to rule. It surprised me greatly, at first, to find that the ruling men consulted only the short-time prophets. Certainly one old chief did ask a question of the Uraths while I was there ; but he was the only one who did so. The Mauraths or the Amaurath were the prophets chiefly consulted by politicians. I thoi ght this very strange ; but Mr. Milverton tells me that not only in this little island of mine, but elsewhere, the politicians would be quite contented with veritable pro- phecies for six hours, or three days, or at the most for a month. I wondered that lovers never came to tjie Raths, or even to the Uraths ; but I found that they were too sure about their future to care for asking questions respecting it. One poor fellow, a melancholy bachelor (the rarest thing in that island), had once asked a question of the Uraths about his prospects of happiness after the first year of marriage. His name was Toulvi, and that of his beloved, Dalumma. Dalumma, hearing of this question (all the prophets were addicted to gossipping), refused poor Toulvi ; and no other young woman ever listened to his advances. I expected that unpleasant questions would be asked about life and death. But this was never done. It had been tried in former years ; but mankind, at least the mankind of that island, could not endure such knowledge. Besides, there were very ugly stories of sons and wives having asked questions about the lives of heads of families questions asked in the purest spirit of conjugal and filial 301 tenderness ; but, somehow or other, the husbands and fathers did not take it well ; and the practice was very wisely discontinued. It was a beautiful arrangement connected with this prophetic power, that, with rare exceptions, the prophets had no knowledge of future events, unless distinct questions were submitted to them respecting these events. The questions chiefly asked were of a very humble kind ; and were asked more by fishermen, and husbandmen, and handicraftsmen than by any other classes in society. In truth, in good society, if I may use such an expression as regards the society amongst those who may be considered semi-savages (for they had no newspapers), it was not thought very good taste to be seen in the House of Wis- dom. Any foreknowledge was an agitating and vulgar thing : it tended to democracy : it made people dissatis- fied with the goings on of their ancestors and of the ruling classes; and it was, very judiciously, voted to be vulgar. My sympathy was with the Spoolans. Such melancholy I have never seen upon the faces of any human beings as that which was indented upon theirs. And yet the things they prophesied were mostly pleasant. According to them, the race of these islanders was always to improve in sagacity and gentleness. But that foreknowledge seemed to make them (the Spoolans) dreadfully discontented with the present state of things. I suspect that there will prove to be the usual counterbalancing drawbacks to all the good things the Spoolans prophesied ; but they seemed to believe only in the good. And they always wore the aspect that is to be seen in sanguine men, when the things they have hoped for, and schemed for, do not come to pass at least in their time. Once a year (luckily it happened while I was in the island) the Spoolans were called in to make mirth for an evening, by narrating what would begin to happen in one hundred years' time, and would continue to happen for a hundred years. What they said was in the highest degree interesting to me. I listened to them with breathless attention, but the rest of their auditors were, for the most 302 Bcalmafr. part, convulsed with laughter even when calamity was prophesied. And yet there were traditions showing how truly the Spoolans of a former age had spoken. For instance, the chiefs who ruled the island now were of a conquering race who had subdued the original inhabitants. The Spoolans had foretold the coming of these conquerors. The Spoolans had only met with ridicule. When the calamity had in two more generations ap- proached much more closely, the Raths began to utter their forebodings. One or two chiefs (and it is remarkable that they were amongst the oldest) endeavoured to warn the people, and to suggest fortifications. But nobody heeded them. All the middle-aged men said to themselves : " This is an affair for our children. Meanwhile we have to be predominant in the Great Council to-day, which is hard work enough for us." Then it came to the Uraths to prophesy upon this coming invasion. A little stir was made then ; but men said, ' If the invasion is to come in a year, it must come : we cannot do more than we are doing. Our forefathers really ought to have looked to this matter. It is disgraceful to see how careless men are about the fortunes of those who are to succeed them." It need hardly be said that the island was easily con- quered ; and that the ancient inhabitants had to submit to the new dynasty, as the Chinese to the Tartars. I must not weary my hearers any longer. You will, ot course, know that I escaped from the island ; for here I am. My personal adventures are riot worth listening to ; but I thought you might like to hear about an island which possesses such a wonderful institution as that which is to be found in the House of Wisdom of Tele-Ma-Malakah, which means the " Bridal Pearl of the Sea." Ellesmere. Well, Sandy, I must congratulate you. You will evidently become a great writer of fiction. Only, my dear fellow, avoid preciseness. Observe the great Sir Arthur : you would not have caught him placing his island in any waters near home ; and then your foreseeing people are too clearly distinguished one from another by your naming distinct periods for their prophetic powers, *' Nemo XL] vcamity. 33 repente fiiit falsissimus" which means "no one tells plausible lies," or writes fiction well, without a good deal of practice. For my own part I should have liked to have heard more about Effra. Doubtless she aided in your escape, and \von over a foster-brother; and then you and she and he were wrecked on the rocks at Brixton, somewhere near where the railway station is now. You know there is, or was, such a river as Effra at Brixton. The name was unques- tionably derived from your Effra. Some foolish antiquaries but they are always in the wrong might contend that it was an Anglo-Saxon name which the said river had enjoyed for a thousand years. But never mind. What says the poet? " Whate'er, my friend, you say, whate'er you write, Keep probability well out of sight." She, I mean your Effra, was very beautiful, was she not? Johnson. Indeed she was. [My readers will imagine that there was a young lady whom I could describe.] She had a horizontal face, and Ellesmere. What on. earth does the boy mean by a hori zontal face? Sir Arthur. I understand. Johnson. A forehead which is so set in the hair that it shows squarely straight eyebrows straight lips, though full ; in fact, all the lines which principally attracted your attention, were horizontal. Ellesmere. A civil engineer's description of his love. But I do see what Sandy means. When she smiled, the dimples spread horizontally and not vertically. I declare, though, I believe there never was such a description of a 3'oung woman given before. You certainly are an original fellow, Sandy. The moral of your tale is a shade too obvious. We all know that short-time prophets are the people worth attend- ing to in this short-time world. If anybody will be good enough to tell me what Mr. Gladstone or Mr. Disraeli will [CHAP. do next week, I shall be very much obliged to him, whether the much-foreseeing man is called a Maurath or not. And, in truth, I should be one of those who would crawl before the laughing Amaurath, a worthy man who could tell me, on the last day of the debate, better even than Mr. Brand or Colonel Taylor, what the division would be. Down with the Raths and the Spoolans, say I. If such fellows were listened to, we might have good sense prevail- ing in the world, which would be a very dull thing. My complaint of the world, which I beg leave to make very loudly, is this that there is too much of everything. A conservatory is always too full of flowers to please me ; a city, of inhabitants; a dinner, of dishes ; a speech, of words; a conceit, of songs; a museum, of curiosities; a picture- gallery, of pictures ; a sermon, of texts ; an evening party, of guests : and so I could go on enumerating, for an hour at least, all the things which are too full in this fulsome world. I use fulsome in the original sense. You remember the witty saying of a French traveller. When asked about his travels he pithily exclaimed, " II y a quelque chose de trop dans tons les pays les habitant" And so say I, there is always " quelque chose de trop " in everything human. With one exception, however. There are not too much good sense and foresight in mankind. Now, Sandy would make us all wise and foreseeing, or at least borrowers of wisdom and foresight from his old Spoolans. I quite understand why everybody thought them old. In fact, Sandy would make us all into Scotchmen. No^ the Scotch are pleasant and useful fellows in their way. In truth, they have done wonderful things, and have made their little rugged country occupy a great space in men's hearts and minds. But I decline to belong to a universe of Scotchmen. There would be no such unproductive sports left in the world as leap-frog. And every joke would be sat upon by a jury. No, Sandy, whatever other mischief you may do, beware of bringing too much good sense and foresight into the world. Good-bye, I am going to walk. Come along, Fairy. xi. j amaj> 305 Every dog would be made useful, and have to draw a cart. And the immense fun and affection that there are in dogs would all be worked out of them. They would come home in the evening to their wives and families, as dull as men of business. It shan't happen in my time, if I can prevent it. [So saying, he whistled to Fairy, and off they went together.] Sir Arthur. There was one passage in the story that I hardly think was yours, Mr. Johnson ; and, in fact, I hope it was not. I accuse Mr. Milverton of it. Johnson. Which was it, Sir Arthur ? Sir Arthur. The illustration of human life taken from an opera heard by you in some language not known to you. That passage was too old for you, and a little too cynical, I. thought. Milverton. Well, that was mine : it really was almost the only thing I did insert; but I did not mean it to be cynical. I know very well what you mean that a young man is too much delighted by his early operas to take much notice of the comic element in them. Now I go beyond that, and must confess I am greatly amused by the real life at a play or an opera, and by what goes on behind the scenes : things which would have dis- gusted me, as being unpleasantly real, when I was young. Sir Arthur. I do not know exactly what you allude to. Milverton. The reproachful look of the severe conductor when he turns to quell some of his band who are too loud or too fast; the anxiety of the stage-manager who at the side is tempestuously waving his flag to " supers " who will not come on at the right time ; the gay chattering with some friend at the side-scenes of the great tragic lady who is just coming on with the dire intention of killing herself, and a child or two ; the good-natured ballet-girl who is adjust- ing a wreath, to make it more becoming, upon some other ballet-girl, or smoothing down her friend's skirts; the pot of porter which the high tragic actor is consuming with con- siderable relish; the perplexity of the scene-shifter when th? X 306 ealmalj. [CHAP. scenes won't go rightly together, and an obstinate old oak- tree will cut into the middle of a cottage ; the busy car- penters in the flies giving the final touches to their work ; the abrupt change of demeanour which occurs when the chief tenor and soprano have gone off the stage with their arms round each other, or in some loving attitude, and they part at the side-scenes as a lady and gentleman who have a slight acquaintance with one another, and perhaps a considerable dislike : all these things amuse my foolish mind ; and I like to sit in a box which will give me a good view of them. Mauleverer. Do not forget the choruses. How beautiful is their unanimity ! How I wish that there was anything like it in common life ! The same gesture, the same question, the same reproach, the very same words, seem to occur to all these excellent men at the same moment. Hands, arms, legs, eyes, eyebrows, all move together. They make use of the same exclamation : if one says "hah!" they all say "hah!" Of "ohs" and "ehs" and " hahs " and " hums " there is no unpleasant variety. Milverton. As the French song says, " Quand un gendarme nt, Tous les gendarmes rient, Dans la gendarmerie.'' Sir Arthur. I declare we nave gone into quite a dis- cussion of the proceedings at operas and plays. It is all your fault, Milverton, as it was you who introduced that illustration into Mr. Johnson's clever story, which illustra- tion, forgive me for saying so, was evidently lugged in, and had no proper relation to " Spoolans " or " Uratha." [After this the conversation ended.] llcalmab. 37 CHAPTER XII. IT was agreed that the reading to-day should be in the drawing-room, in order that the ladies might be able to go on with their work (they were very busy preparing for some fancy fair) while we were talking or reading. Before the reading commenced, there was an in- teresting conversation, which began in this way : Milverton. I have just been into your room, Ellesmere, to see about the chimney, which they say smokes. Ellesmere. Pray don't trouble yourself. There is a proper concatenation in all human affairs. One must have a smoky chimney when one has a scolding wife. Milverton. I saw Dickens's " American Notes " on your table, and, looking at it, I came upon a passage about solitary confinement. I suppose it is the dreadful punish- ment which Dickens says it is, and in which he is supported by Mr. Reade in "Never Too Late to Mend;" but I have always fancied that I could bear a little of this solitary con- finement very well. See what advantages there are : No letters. No choice given you about your food. Lots of time for thinking about and inventing things. No servants to manage. No visitors to entertain. The chief pain of life is in deciding ; and there, in your solitary cell, there would be no occasion to decide anything. Ellesmere. I agree with you. Life becomes more and more tiresome from our having more and more to decide. Now, at a dinner-party, they will bother you with two sorts of soup, two kinds of fish, and innumerable wines. X 2 308 licalmab. [CHAP. Maulevcrer. Very wrong of the host to throw such a weight of responsibility upon his guests. One is sure to believe that one has chosen indiscreetly, to feel that it is irremediable, and to be tormented by regret throughout the dinner for one's error say, in the choice of the soup. I have often felt that. Sir Arthur. I always admired the plan that great Ca- tholic monarchs had of going into retirement in some monastery for two or three weeks. Milvertoti. I am afraid they received despatches. Now. in solitary confinement, one should have ceased to be a person to whom anybody could address anything. It would be better than being in a yacht at least to any one who is apt to be sea-sick. Sir Arthur. There would be no bells to molest you The three great evils in life are noise, poverty, and popu- larity. Nobody can tell what I have suffered from noise in the course of my life. It has been an act of great forbear- ance on my part to endure dogs, for I do so much detest their barking. The weak part of their character is, that they will bark, in season and out of season, for good reason, or for no reason at all generally the latter. I love horses, because they make so little noise. Rabbits, too, and white mice are Ellesmcre. I will not have a word said against dogs. They are the best fellows I know. Sir Arthur objects to their barking, why does he not object to men's talking? Pray, sir, by which have you been most bored : by the injudicious barking of dogs, or by the foolish talk of men? Do dogs make two hours' speeches to convey ideas (ideas ?) which might have been conveyed in ten minutes ? Of course, if I wished to run them down that is, if I were a base and ungrateful man I too could say some- thing against them. They are a little too prone to be vulgarly aristocratic, for my taste, too apt to despise poor and ragged people, and to bark at their heels. But then, again, if they are on the other side of the House, if they belong to poor and ragged persons, they nave a proper respect for rags and poverty, and sniff contemptuously at carriage people. In shoit, they partake the errors and