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 be the fuller exercise and the more pleasant pastime" An unpublished fragment 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 
 
<iUalmajj, 309 
 
 vices of their masters : that is all. Milverton's dogs howl 
 philosophy ; Sir Arthur's whine poetry ; Mauleverer's (epi- 
 curean dogs those ! ) discern great difference between dif- 
 ferent kinds of bones: and mine bark at everybody, just 
 like me, without doing any harm to anybody. 
 
 In general, dogs have rather too much love for good 
 society a failing which they partake with most of us. We 
 all like to visit the best people, as they are called. So 
 with dogs. The kitchen is warm, its atmosphere is rich 
 with unctuous and savoury odours, the cook is kind ; but 
 the parlour is preferred by the dog, from an innate love of 
 high society. 
 
 I do not believe there has been any instance of a 
 man committing suicide when he has had a dog to love 
 him. Move for a return, Mr. Cranmer, and you will find 
 1 am right. 
 
 As regards friendship, the very word would have been 
 unknown but for dogs. Does not Max Miiller say that the 
 word for friendship in the original language was " man-and- 
 dog-in-the-desert ? " 
 
 Milvertoji. What an ingenious way Ellesmere has of 
 insinuating that he is supported by some great authority ! 
 " Does not Max Miiller say?" No, he does not say any- 
 thing of the kind. 
 
 Ellesmere. How do you know ? I have no doubt it is 
 in a note which has hitherto escaped your observation. 
 But, at any rate, the friendship between a dog and a man is 
 the highest form and exemplar of friendship. Does a dog 
 ever say, or look as if he would say, " I told you so," when 
 you are mortified to death at having committed some 
 grievous folly ? or does it use what is called " the privilege 
 of a friend," to say the most cutting things to you ? 
 
 Then look at the nice appreciation of character which 
 dogs manifest : their tolerance of children, their boundless 
 fidelity, their interest in all human affairs. 
 
 " Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et status, et res." 
 
 Aristippus must have been very like a dog. Dogs will go 
 with you to a badger-bait, to a fox-hunt, to a public 
 meeting, to races, to church, and will almost always behave 
 
3*o Xicalmag. [CHAP 
 
 themselves well and creditably, and not disgrace their 
 masters. 
 
 Cranmer. The irrepressible dog at the Derby ? 
 
 Ellesmere. If I wanted an instance to show the brutality 
 of men and the humanity of dogs, I would rely upon the 
 case of the dog at the Derby. He knows that his master 
 has backed heavily Vauban, or Hermit, or Lord Lyon, and, 
 of course, he has a deep and affectionate interest in the 
 race for his master's sake. And then the poor creature is 
 malignantly shouted at all along the racecourse ; and when 
 he perceives, with the tact of a dog, that he is doing some- 
 thing wrong, and wishes to escape to the right or the left, 
 no good Christians make way for him. 
 
 By the way, talking of Christians, I admit that dogs are 
 not good Christians : they are too prejudiced for that, and 
 too much inclined to persecute the inferior animals ; but then 
 how few men are Christians ! In short, you cannot say any- 
 thing against dogs which does not apply with equal force to 
 human beings ; while, on the other hand, how many things 
 may be said against human beings, which do not apply to 
 dogs? If Rochefoucauld had passed his time with dogs 
 instead of with courtiers, would he ever have said " that 
 there is something in the misfortunes of our friends which is 
 not entirely displeasing to us ? " I ask you, did you ever 
 know a dog bark out any maxim like that ? No ; down 
 with men, and up with dogs, say I. 
 
 If the Pythagorean system is true, it will only be the very 
 good and choice men who will become dogs in the next 
 stage of existence. Come here, Fairy : I have no doubt 
 you were an exemplary woman ; that you never scandalized 
 any other woman at tea-time ; that you did not thwart your 
 husband seriously more than twice a day ; that you did not 
 worry him to sign cheques ; and that you did not say he 
 was a brute if he declined to go out.- shopping with you. 
 Yes, turn up the whites of your eyes, my dear, to show how 
 horrified you are to think that there are women not quite so 
 good as you were. But you were a wonder of a woman, as 
 you are now a wonder of a dog. I will not have dogs run 
 down : I am their champion. What does the excellent 
 Dr. Watts say, somewhat ironically ? 
 
llealnuijj. 311 
 
 " If dogs delight to bark and bite, 
 
 V e make a great to-do; 
 If men show fight, and women spite, 
 Why, 'tis their nature to." 
 
 Any excuse for ourselves ; none for the poor dogs. 
 
 Milverton. Poor Dr. Watts ! What would he say to 
 hearing his good words so parodied ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. Notwithstanding Ellesmere's eulogium upon 
 dogs, I venture to say again, what I said before, that I do 
 not like their barking. But, to pursue the general question 
 of noise, we never hardly, in our houses, make any sensible 
 provision against it. 
 
 Milverton. Very true, Sir Arthur. I remember reading 
 of some murder committed in a Russian palace, a noisy 
 murder, too but nobody heard anything of it in the next 
 room. Now that is my idea of ho\v a house should be 
 built. It should be possible to commit a murder in any 
 room, without the rest of the house being troubled or dis- 
 turbed. As it is, architects seem to have set their faces 
 against all quiet and privacy. Studious men are the victims 
 of neighbouring pianos. A nursery is a hot-bed of annoy- 
 ance. I have studied the question of noise very deeply, 
 and I will tell you something of the greatest importance. 
 Put a layer of small shells between the flooring that sepa- 
 rates a room from the room above it. You will find these 
 shells admirable non-conductors of sound. 
 
 Cranmcr. I wish architects were subject to examinations. 
 
 Milverton. Very good. The first question I should ask 
 them would be, What thickness of what material will pre- 
 vent such and such noises say the playing of a piano by a 
 beginner from being heard in the adjacent rooms? 
 
 Sir ArtJiur. I remember when I was in Germany, and 
 used to spell over the German newspapers, nothing used to 
 delight me more than the advertisements of servants, which 
 so often began, " Ein sillies Mddchen." Now, if one could 
 advertise about houses, and say truthfully, " Ein stillcs 
 Jlaus" (I'm sure I do not know whether that is the right 
 German), what an attractive advertisement it would be ! 
 
 Ellcsuicre. You were quoting just now " Never Too 
 Late to Mend." I don't think Mr. Reade protested so 
 
CHAP. 
 
 much against solitary confinement as against the cruelty 
 which in that particular case accompanied solitary confine- 
 ment. At least such is my recollection of that eloquent 
 and fervid book. 
 
 Milverton. No, you are wrong ; he protested against 
 the system as well as against the cruelties which he stated 
 to have accompanied it in that particular case. 
 
 It is a commonplace remark to make, but what an atro- 
 cious thing cruelty is ! Do not you all feel that circum- 
 stances favouring you might have committed all other sins 
 known in the calendar of sinfulness? but cruelty is unspeak- 
 ably abhorrent to all thoughtful men. There is nothing 
 Christianity has set its face so distinctly against. 
 
 Ellesmere. But then, you see, there are so few Chris- 
 tians in the world. At least such is the conclusion I have 
 come to, from my limited experience. There is something 
 in my mind upon this subject which would, I fear, perfectly 
 horrify you all. It is a strange, almost ridiculous resem- 
 blance that has often struck me between Christianity and 
 something which is considered to be one of the most 
 frivolous of all the frivolous things in this world. 
 
 I would not have said it before dear Dunsford for the 
 world, and I am afraid to say it even to you. 
 
 Cranmer. Let us hear it. We are not bound to agree with 
 it, and I am certain beforehand I shall disagree with it. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Do not all at once be modest and timid, 
 Sir John. If you are suddenly taken in this way, we shall 
 all think you are going to have an illness. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Pray do not imagine such a thing. I 
 did not half describe to you, when we talked upon the 
 subject of illness the other day, what an irrational person 
 he is. He had the audacity to complain of me. But, 
 indeed, the great superiority of women to men is never 
 more conspicuous than in illness. Men oscillate from utter 
 abjectness to obstinate indocility. 
 
 One day it is, "Oh, pray manage for me, and pray 
 manage me. I have no will of my own ; I am nobody, 
 only a bundle of pain and misery." 
 
 The next day my lord is a little better, and has resumed 
 his usual grandeur and obstinacy. If you bring him some 
 
xii.] 
 
 beef-tea or some water-gruel, he insists upon your explain- 
 ing to him (at least Sir John does) the exact nature and 
 effect of those harmless fluids. He once reasoned with me 
 for three-quarters of an hour about a mustard-plaster ; and, 
 indeed, he made a x speech about it (at a time when he was 
 ordered not to talk at all) which would have done him great 
 credit before the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council, 
 He divided his speech into seven heads, and it ended by 
 showing that a mustard -plaster was one of the most dangerous 
 remedies that could be applied ; but I did apply it neverthe- 
 less. I say again, that the superiority of a woman to a man 
 is never more manifest than in a sick-room, whether as nurse 
 or patient in the one case showing a skilfulness and tender- 
 ness ; in the other, a patience and endurance utterly unknown 
 to what is facetiously called the stronger-minded sex. 
 
 Ellesmere. Doesn't she talk like a book ? like a bit of 
 the Itamblcr or Spectator ? " Showing in the one case a 
 clumsiness and hardness, and, in the other, an impatience 
 and irritability, which are quite unknown to the wiser and 
 the gentler sex, that is, to the sex masculine." I think 
 those were her words, or, at least, such as they ought lo 
 have been. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I thought that what Lady Ellesmere said 
 was equally true and well-expressed. 
 
 Ellesmere. The poor husband, or father, or brother, is 
 always at a sad disadvantage in dealing with his womankind. 
 He brings, with trembling and reluctant hand, the invigo- 
 rating but distasteful acid of the medicinal potion, while 
 the polite stranger assiduously presents the fallacious pallia- 
 tive of the consequential saccharinity. 
 
 At least, that is how Dr. Johnson and Lady Ellesmere 
 would express it. Plain John (that is how some people 
 describe me, as they used to describe a former Lord Chan- 
 cellor), plain John has to administer the dose, and the polite 
 Sir Arthur gives the sugar or the jam which weak people 
 take after their doses. 
 
 Milverton. This is a very pleasant and instructive inter- 
 lude ; but you were going to say something which would 
 horrify us. I join with Mauleverer, and maintain that it is 
 beyond your power to horrify me. 
 
|lculnuib. [CHAP. 
 
 EHesmere. Here goes, as you will have it. Is there any 
 thing that Christianity protests against so much as riches 
 and the belief in riches ? Or, to put the question more 
 largely, Is there anything that Christianity protests against 
 so much as a slavish yielding to worldly greatness of any 
 kind to great riches, great power, great intellect, great 
 force, or great worldly success of any kind ? 
 
 Milverton. Yes ; you are right. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Yes. 
 
 EHesmere. Well, then, Fashion is the only thing which, in 
 modern times, has stood up boldly against wealth, power, rank, 
 dignity, and success of all kinds. I am not old enough to 
 remember when Fashion was predominant, but I heard 
 older men talk about it, and I learned to estimate its power. 
 There was a time when it was the fashion to be poor. Think 
 of that. It is very like Christianity, you know. 
 
 Sir Arthur. This is the most paradoxical thing I ever 
 heard, and yet there really is something in it. Fashion did 
 make a sort of protest against riches, rank, and adventitious 
 worth of all kinds. But, my dear Sir John, the idol it set 
 up instead was a miserable one. 
 
 EHesmere. I do not care about that ; it somehow appealed 
 to what was considered to be personal worth rather than 
 adventitious circumstances. Men were fashionable who 
 did not possess any of the things that the world generally 
 dotes upon. 
 
 Milvertoji. What you say, Ellesmere, is very ingenious ; 
 and I must honestly say I sympathise with anything that 
 thwarts, or tends to thwart, the brute power of wealth. 
 
 How many a man may say, as some Don Alonso, or Don 
 J uan, says in one of Calderon's plays 
 
 " Y el haber, en mi, 6 no haber, 
 O temor 6 atrevimiento, 
 No consiste en otra cosa 
 Que haber 6 no haber dinero ; " 
 
 which being liberally translated, means, " If I have cash, I 
 have courage ; but if I am poor, I have none." 
 
 Ellesmere. You see neither Sir Arthur nor Milverton 
 have much to say against my theory. I am not such a fool 
 and scoundrel after all, Mr. Cranmer, am I ? 
 
xii.] <ivculm;ig. 315 
 
 Cranmer. Nobody thought that you were, Sir John ; but, 
 for my part, I must say I prefer a great contractor to Beau 
 Brummel. 
 
 Ellesmere. I do not. 
 
 Sir Arthur. The best protest I ever knew made against 
 worldly success was by a small society of young men at 
 college. Their numbers were very few, and their mode of 
 election was the most remarkable I have ever known. The 
 vacancies were exceedingly rare perhaps one or two in 
 the course of a year and the utmost care and study were 
 bestowed on choosing the new members. Sometimes, 
 months were given to the consideration of a man's claim. 
 
 Rank neither told for a man, nor against him. The same 
 with riches, the same with learning, and what is more 
 strange, the same with intellectual gifts of all kinds. The 
 same, too, with goodness ; nor even were the qualities that 
 make a man agreeable any sure recommendation of him as 
 a candidate. 
 
 Maulei'crcr. What did you go by then ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. I really feel a difficulty in describing to you, 
 and yet I know perfectly what it was. 
 
 A man to succeed with us must be a real man, and not a 
 " sham," as Cariyle would say. Matthew Arnold has invented 
 a word to describe certain people, which is not a bad one. 
 He calls them " Philistines." Now our man was never a 
 " Philistine." He was not to talk the talk of any clique ; 
 he was not to believe too much in any of his adventitious 
 advantages ; neither was he to disbelieve in them for 
 instance, to affect to be a radical because he was a lord. 
 I confess I have no one word which will convey all that I 
 mean ; but I may tell you that, above all things, he was to 
 be open-minded. When we voted for a man, we generally 
 summed up by saying, " He has an apostolic spirit in him," 
 and by that we really meant a great deal 
 
 I remember , who is now a very great personage in 
 
 the world, saying to me, " In the course of one's chequered 
 life one meets with many disgraces and contumelies, and 
 also with several honours ; but no honour ever affected me 
 so much as being elected, as a youth, into that select body. 
 And, to speak very frankly, I think they v?ere right in 
 
3i 6 liealmajj. [CHAP 
 
 choosing me, for, with many demerits of the gravest kind, I 
 do think I am a real human being, and I say what I think, 
 and I try to think for myself, and the world's gauds and 
 vanities do not, I conceive, excessively impose upon me." 
 
 By the way, I must tell you a curious thing viz. that the 
 choice made by these young men, though made without any 
 view to future worldly pre-eminence, yet seemed to involve 
 it, for a very large proportion of the men so selected have 
 made their mark in the world ; and some of the foremost 
 men of the time belonged to that society. But boys at 
 school and youths at college do choose so wisely and so 
 well, as Milverton has told us. They are not to be deceived 
 by wrappages of any kind. 
 
 Milverton. But we wander from our subject. Ellesmere 
 said that there were few Christians anywhere. If he means 
 that there are few perfect Christians, every one would agree 
 with him. But if he means that Christianity has not pre- 
 vailed, is not prevailing, and will not prevail in a much 
 higher degree, 1 humbly think he is mistaken. The truth 
 is, so large a conquest has already been made by Chris- 
 tianity in the human mind, that each individual Christian 
 looks smaller, and is of course of far less account, than 
 when he was surrounded by a Pagan world. " Non meus 
 hie sermo" These are not my words, but Dunsford's 
 almost his last words to me. 
 
 Dunsford was our tutor, Ellesmere's and mine, at college. 
 He lived near us here, and was much with us. 
 
 Ellesmere. I never asked. Milverton, what he died of. 
 As you know, I was abroad at the time. 
 
 Milverton. Of simple exhaustion. You know he was about 
 the most learned man in England, being great in science, in 
 classical lore, and in literature of all kinds. He kept up his 
 learning, was a most diligent student to the last, and withal 
 a most active clergyman in a large and scattered parish. 
 He burned the candle at both ends, rising early and going 
 to bed late. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. He had no wife. Wives are of some 
 use, if only to prevent their husbands from overworking. 
 
 Milverton. Well, a day or too before his death, he cleared 
 the room of his attendants, and told me he wished to speak 
 
 
xii.] 
 
 to me. He began by talking of the critical spirit of the 
 present age, and how the historical part of Christianity 
 would have to undergo a severe ordeal. He spoke of some 
 of the great heresiarchs of the present day, both of those 
 who were eminent in Biblical criticism and in science, and 
 he spoke of them with the greatest kindness, saying that 
 many of them were good men who loved the truth, and 
 that no permanent harm could come to religion from a 
 sincere search after truth. 
 
 " I do not wish," he said, " my dear boy" (he always 
 looked upon Ellesmere and myself as his children) - 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes ; Dunsford was one of those persons 
 who think you never grow any older, and always treated 
 Milverton and me as boys, because we had been his 
 pupils. I remember once, after he had been lecturing me 
 in P, very pedagogic way about some heresy which I had 
 presumed to utter anent the classics (I dare say about the 
 manufacture of Latin verses), I let the conversation drop, 
 and then a few minutes afterwards, in the most demure way 
 (I was staying at his house), I asked whether one of the 
 maids could be spared to take me out for a little walk. 
 The good man laughed heartily, and did not attempt to 
 tutorize me for the next three days. It is true it was some 
 years ago, but I had " taken silk " (as we say at the Bar), 
 and did not by any means think myself a small or insigni- 
 ficant personage. As we grow older we grow more modest : 
 at least I do every day. 
 
 But go on, Milverton, with what dear Dunsford said to you. 
 
 Milverton. " I do not wish," he said, " to prevent such 
 people as you and Ellesmere (he named you, John) from 
 reading all this criticism, and accepting any of it that seems 
 to you good ; but let no man rob you of the main truths of 
 Christianity : let no one blind you to what there is essen- 
 tially divine in our religion. 
 
 " I may be an enthusiast, but I think that the triumphs 
 of Christianity are but commencing. I look forward to a 
 time when war, which so distresses you now, Milverton, 
 will be an obsolete thing ; when the pity we have at present 
 for the woes and miseries of other men, will seem, compara- 
 tively speaking, but hardness of heart ; when the grief of 
 
o 
 
 1 8 ^Ualmajr. [CHAP. 
 
 any one will be largely partaken by all those who know of 
 it, and when our souls will not be isolated ; when good men 
 will allow themselves to give full way to their benevolent 
 impulses, because no unfair advantage will be taken of their 
 benevolence ; when the weak will not traffic upon their 
 weakness, nor the strong abuse their strength ; when wealth 
 will not be ardently sought for, except by those who feel 
 that they can undertake the heavy burden of dispensing 
 wealth for the good of their brethren ; when men and 
 women will be able to live together in a household without 
 mean dissensions ; when the lower seats shall be preferred ; 
 when men will differ about nice points of doctrine without 
 adjudging to their opponents eternal condemnation'; when, 
 in short, instead of a tumult of discord ascending to heaven 
 from this bewildered world, there shall go up one har- 
 monious melody, breathing peace and faith, and love and 
 concord and contentment." 
 
 Mauleverer (aside to me). And when every fir-tree in 
 the wood shall be a Christmas-tree bearing pretty toys and 
 delicious sweetmeats. 
 
 Ellesmere. "Jam redeunt Saturnia regna" There will 
 be no room for the like of me in this good world that the 
 excellent Dunsford contemplated, but I shall only be too 
 delighted to behold it, whether from near or from afar; and 
 certain it is, that if we do not believe and hope for better 
 things, we shall never try to make things better. 
 
 Milverton. And then he added something which im- 
 pressed me very much, for he was not a man of a romantic 
 turn of mind, or given to daring speculations. 
 
 " Moreover," he said, " I fondly believe that physical 
 nature will then become less obdurate that is, if men are 
 fitted to receive a softer, gentler state of being. Now, as 
 it is, if Nature were more easy and more bountiful, men 
 would only have more spare time for annoying and perse- 
 cuting one another ; but depend upon it, if we were more 
 fitted to receive good things from our Father, we should 
 receive them. 
 
 " Think of these sayings of mine when I have gone, my 
 dear, and let no one persuade you that Christianity is the 
 mere dreai.j of a few benighted enthusiasts. I can say no 
 
Ucalmalj. 319 
 
 more. Good night; and perhaps it is good night for 
 ever." 
 
 It was not so, for I saw him die ; and it is a sight that is 
 not without consolation to see a good man die. 
 
 No one seemed inclined to comment upon these 
 last words of the good Dunsford. Mr. Milverton soon 
 got up and walked about the room. The others 
 looked at one another with a curious expression of 
 countenance, half sad, half hopeful. Mr. Mauleverer 
 shrugged up his shoulders, and Ellesmere replied to 
 him by a similar gesture (it was not a mocking ges- 
 ture, but one of sadness), but neither of them said 
 anything. 
 
 Storjj of 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 REALMAH'S DANGER FROM CONSPIRACIES. 
 
 PERSONAL enemies are very rare. Taking the popu- 
 lation of the world at one thousand millions, it is 
 true that there are at least one thousand millions 
 of personal enemies ; but then, as we must consider 
 each man as his own chief personal enemy, this 
 calculation will not prove much. 
 
 It may be said of Realmah that, with the exception 
 of himself, he had no personal enemy, unless, indeed, 
 it was the witch Potochee ; but, unfortunately, there 
 were many persons who were much injured, or fancied 
 they were, by the advent of Realmah to power. For 
 example, there were near relatives of the deposed 
 chieftains who had hopes of being elected chiefs 
 of the North, of the South, or of the West, if the 
 old form of government were ever re-established. 
 Besides, there were those who had been attendants at 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 these little courts ; and Realmah, though very anxious 
 to do so, had not been able to find room for all these 
 men at his own court. There were, therefore, several 
 persons who, though not particularly disliking the 
 man Realmah, earnestly desired the death of the 
 King. These men formed a band of conspirators, 
 and for several years after Realmah came to the 
 throne he was exposed to their machinations. 
 
 Realmah was a singularly fearless man, possessing 
 all that fearlessness which often belongs to sickly, 
 feeble people, and which seems to be given to them 
 by kind Nature as, in some measure, a compensation 
 for their deficiency in physical force. 
 
 His foster-brother Omki, however, was anything 
 but fearless, and was indeed a very suspicious person, 
 always upon the look-out for conspiracies against his 
 beloved Realmah. A casual remark made to him by 
 a woman of rank in the northern quarter of the city 
 strengthened these suspicions. One day, when he was 
 enlarging upon the merits of Realmah, this woman 
 happened to exclaim, " Poor man ! I doubt whether 
 we shall get a better!" These words dwelt in the 
 suspicious Omki's mind. He kept repeating the words 
 to himself, " ' Poor man ! ' Why poor man ? ' We 
 shall never get a better.' Humph ! Then somebody- 
 is thinking about getting a better." From that time 
 Omki set a sedulous watch upon that woman's hus- 
 band and her brothers. He soon detected that they 
 and other disaffected persons met together secretly ; 
 and he became perfectly sure of the existence of an 
 important conspiracy. He warned Realmah. But 
 the King replied, "Dear Omki, I cannot take all 
 the trouble about my life that you would have me. 
 I should be thinking of nothing else but my life ; 
 and the life would become not worth having. It is 
 not much worth having as it is." Omki, however, 
 redoubled his watchfulness, and formed, chiefly 
 
321 
 
 from among the fishermen's tribe, a guard of men 
 whose main duty it was to watch the movements 
 of the King, without his knowing that he was so 
 watched. 
 
 Now, Realmah had one delight which he thought 
 was quite unknown to his subjects. He would go 
 and mourn, in complete solitude as he supposed, at 
 the grave of the Ainah ; and this he was particularly 
 prone to do when more than usually vexed by any- 
 thing disagreeable in public affairs. Her tomb was in 
 a wood ; and he had caused a house to be built close 
 to it, in which one of his stewards dwelt, for it was 
 a part of the royal domain. By means of a secret 
 approach through this house (he was a great lover 
 of these secret ways), he had unobserved access to 
 the tomb. One side of the house was built against a 
 rocky and wooded eminence, and he had caused a 
 secret aperture to be constructed from that side into 
 this elevated ground. 
 
 It may appear inconsistent to say that Realmah 
 was a very fearless man, while mentioning that he 
 took such precautions as the above. But this was 
 eminently characteristic of him : that he should fore- 
 see danger ; provide, in some measure, against it ; 
 and then not trouble himself any further about the 
 matter. 
 
 It is a wonder that he was not more anxious 
 about his life ; for the conspirators had already tried 
 what poison could do, and their plot had only been 
 defeated by Realmah's fine sense of taste, which had 
 detected something wrong in some beverage that had 
 been handed to him. Careful inquiries had been 
 made about this ; but the guilt had not been 
 brought home to any one, and Realmah affected to 
 believe that it was an accident. Omki, however, took 
 care to make great change in the King's immediate 
 attendants. 
 
 Y 
 
22 
 
 One morning in the spring-time, very early, a man 
 in the dress of a fisherman might have been seen 
 issuing from an obscure postern of the palace, and 
 making his way rapidly, though with somewhat of a 
 limping gait, to the Bridge of Foxes, as it was called, 
 which led to the wood of the royal domain. He did 
 not turn to look about him. Had there been an 
 observant person present, that person would have 
 seen a small body of men emerge from some spot 
 near the palace, and disperse themselves in twos and 
 threes, taking nearly the same route as the fisherman. 
 In half an hour afterwards, a similar body might have 
 been seen issuing from the same postern of the palace 
 from which the fisherman had come. The first body 
 were the emissaries of the conspirators : the second 
 were the faithful guard led by Omki. This was not 
 the first time that the fisherman had been followed 
 in this manner; but it was the first time that the 
 conspirators had received much earlier notice than 
 Omki of the fisherman's intention to take an early 
 walk. It need hardly be said that the fisherman 
 was the King. 
 
 It is a fortunate thing for the world that con- 
 spiracies are almost always ill-managed. In this 
 instance, nothing would seem simpler than that one 
 or two of the foremost of the conspirators should 
 have gained upon Realmah, and have murdered him 
 before he reached the house. But they did nothing 
 of the kind. It had been agreed that they should 
 meet, together near the house, force their way into 
 it, and attack him there. And they kept to their 
 agreement. Probably not one of them really liked 
 the work, and therefore they were all averse to 
 acting, except together in numbers. 
 
 Realmah gained the house ; and, after speaking a 
 few kind words to the steward's wife, descended into 
 the secret passage that led to the tomb of the Ainah, 
 
3 2 3 
 
 which was covered in on all sides, and into which, 
 except by this passage, there was no access. 
 
 Now this poor woman had been solemnly warned 
 by Omki of the danger that the King incurred during 
 these visits to the tomb ; and no sooner had she 
 attended Realmah to the secret passage which led 
 to the tomb, than she went up to the highest room 
 in the house and kept watch. There, to her amaze- 
 ment and dismay, she saw assembling, by twos and 
 threes, no fewer than seventeen men under the shelter 
 of a large " quilpahra," a tree like a beech-tree, but 
 with a larger leaf. She hastened down to the King 
 to give him notice. Realmah instantly appreciated 
 the danger ; and, leaving the tomb, betook himself to 
 the place of concealment in the rock, which was 
 entered by an opening from the vestibule of the 
 house, at a height of about ten feet from the ground. 
 It was reached by means of a rope-ladder. It led 
 into a long passage, which had an exit in the wood. 
 The King made at once for this exit ; but, hearing 
 voices near, did not venture to take this way into 
 the wood. The truth was, that the conspirators had 
 discovered that there was some such means of exit ; 
 but had not ascertained its exact situation, as it had 
 been very artfully contrived. Their first care, how- 
 ever, had been to place a small party at that spot 
 near which they had once or twice seen the King 
 emerge. 
 
 He had not long taken refuge in this concealed 
 passage, when the conspirators came to the door of 
 the cottage, and demanded entrance. The woman 
 made no reply. The conspirators began to force 
 the door, which had been made very strong. More- 
 over, there were two iron bars which could be drawn 
 across it, and which went into staples fixed in the 
 adjacent walls. The careful Omki had provided 
 these means of defence, and had instructed the 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 gjLtalmag. [CHAP. 
 
 steward's wife how to make ready use of them. 
 Seven or eight minutes were lost by the conspirators 
 in forcing this door : at last they made good their 
 entrance. They then seized hold of the poor woman, 
 and by frightful threats compelled her to disclose 
 to them the secret entrance to the tomb. They 
 descended into the vault, where of course they did 
 not find the King ; but one of them, groping about 
 on the floor, picked up a shell brooch of exquisite 
 workmanship, which they were sure could only have 
 belonged to a person of high rank. After a fruitless 
 search, they returned to the vestibule. They then 
 searched all through the house, but without effect. 
 One cruel man then proposed to put the poor woman 
 to the torture. This plan was immediately adopted. 
 A cord was twisted round her forehead, and pulled 
 violently by the men at each end of it. Her agonizing 
 screams rent the air, but no word of betrayal came 
 from the poor woman. Realmah could bear it no 
 longer. He drew aside the rough screen of wood- 
 work that concealed him ; and, standing like a saint 
 in a niche, addressed the conspirators. " I am here : 
 who is it that wishes to kill his king? If any one, 
 let him do so." Most of the conspirators stood 
 staring at him. One or two, more hardened than 
 the rest, hurled missiles at him, one of which struck 
 the King on the breast, and made him fall backwards 
 into the recess. They were looking about for the 
 means of ascending, when Omki and his followers, 
 who had pressed upon their steps, rushed into the 
 house. The fight was furious; but Omki's party 
 prevailed. Six of the conspirators were left dead 
 on the floor, and the others were overpowered and 
 bound. His faithful foster-brother then ascended to 
 Realmah's aid. The King was still senseless. But, 
 though considerably injured, he was not fatally 
 wounded, and after a short time he recovered his 
 
325 
 
 senses. His first orders were to spare the conspira- 
 tors, and to bring them before him. He reasoned 
 with these guilty men, and, upon a promise of 
 clemency, obtained from them a full account of the 
 plot and of the chief movers in it. He then ordered 
 their bonds to be loosed, and was carried* home in 
 the arms of his faithful followers. 
 
 Such a transaction could not be kept secret, and 
 in a few hours it was noised all through the city. 
 Realmah's clemency was to no purpose. While the 
 King was in a deep sleep, for the physicians of that 
 nation understood the use of opiates, the populace 
 rose in fury, and sacked the houses of the principal 
 conspirators, killing those who had not made their 
 escape. 
 
 There was no further attempt upon the life of 
 Realmah ; for those who might still wish to conspire 
 against him felt that, even if they were to succeed in 
 their conspiracy, they would have to endure the rage 
 of an infuriated populace. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 REALMAH'S GREAT ENEMY, BRISHEE-BRASHEE-VAH. 
 
 Ix our moral likings and dislikings there are as 
 many odd fancies and peculiarities as in our physical 
 likings ; and we all know in physical matters how 
 peculiar these likings are. One man is attracted by 
 black hair in his beloved, another by auburn, another 
 by red. The countenance which is absolutely repul- 
 sive to one, is fearfully attractive to another. There 
 are even some people to whom obliquity of vision 
 on the part of their beloved is delightful. 
 
326 HUalm&fj. [CHAP. 
 
 But it has often passed unobserved that there are 
 the same invincible likings and dislikings as regards 
 the moral qualities. One man can endure anything 
 but cruelty in those he loves. Another has a positive 
 hatred for'the puritanical virtues. 1 A third, and such 
 a man was Hamlet, adores justice, and cannot bear 
 the unjust and passionate man : 
 
 " Give me that man 
 
 That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him 
 In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, 
 As I do thee, Horatio ; " 
 
 while again there are others who are very tolerant of 
 passion and injustice, but cannot abide small, narrow- 
 minded equitable priggishness. 
 
 Now Realmah, great as he was, was not exempt 
 from these prejudices in his moral likings and dis- 
 likings. You might oppose him in council, and he 
 would like you just the same. You might say inju- 
 rious things against him, and he would forgive you, 
 merely observing that he was sorry that you did not 
 understand him. You might even conspire against 
 him, and he would readily pardon you, as w r e have 
 seen. But he was unspeakably bitter against the 
 men who promoted false rumours. He was wont to 
 say that these false rumours are the great difficulty 
 of government, and that all the skill in the world 
 cannot quite meet and dissipate them. Here it may 
 be remarked how very difficult it must have been 
 before printing had been invented for a government 
 to check these false rumours. Much of what we now 
 call history consists perhaps of the lightest, falsest, 
 
 i "I have known distinguished fathers and mothers in our Christian 
 Israel, whose presence was like mildew upon flowers, and who sent 
 you away with the feeling of having been defrauded of half your vital 
 electricity." The writer of the above, an American named Henry 
 James, would not be likely to admire much even the virtues of Puri- 
 tanism. 
 
xii.] iiicuJmajr. 327 
 
 and most unauthorized- sayings of the most gossiping 
 of mankind. 
 
 Realmah would lose all his usual calmness and 
 dignity when inveighing against the men who made 
 and propagated false rumours. Indeed he was in 
 the habit of saying that Brishee-Brashee- Vah, which 
 meant in their language The Lord of False Gabbling, 
 was the only enemy he never had conquered, and 
 could never hope to conquer. 
 
 Of the rumours that made Realmah so angry, some 
 were of this kind. The Varnah, who delighted in 
 household arrangement, and who seldom went out of 
 doors, was ill. The court physician recommended 
 that Her Loftiness should take more air. Realmah, 
 entering her apartments one day, remarked before 
 her and her women " We must take the open air a 
 great deal this summer, my Varnah ; that is the way 
 to meet your enemy. He is not to be battled with 
 in the house." 
 
 That simple speech led to a report, which was 
 believed throughout Abibah, that the King would 
 take the field at the head of thirty thousand men for 
 a summer campaign against the Bibraskas ; and 
 absolutely, ambassadors arrived from the Bibraskas 
 to propitiate the wrath of so great a monarch. 
 
 Realmah, when he addressed the Varnah, had 
 pointed to an opening in the wall which looked 
 towards the east, and the Bibraskas were the only 
 tribe in that direction who did not admit the suze- 
 rainty of Realmah. 
 
 The King strove to trace the origin and growth of 
 this report ; and, finding that one of the Varnah's 
 women had repeated his words, with sundry addi- 
 tions, to her lover, was with difficulty persuaded from 
 ordering her to be strangled. The great and good- 
 natured King was never known to have been so fierce 
 as upon this occasion, nor to inveigh so loudly against 
 
328 Lealma. [CHAP. 
 
 Brishee-Brashee-Vah, whom he believed to be the 
 chief god of evil in this lower world. 
 
 Corresponding with his hatred of Brishee-Brashee- 
 Vah was Realmah's love for true intelligence. No 
 man, to use an expression of Talleyrand's, was more 
 " avid of facts." He did not care for the facts being 
 apparently important : if they were trivial, but true, 
 he valued them. He desired to know who in Abibah 
 loved whom, who hated whom, who was about to 
 marry whom. He did not despise gossip, if gossip 
 were but based upon facts. 
 
 The Varnah and Talora, with the tact of women, 
 discovered this, and, when they wanted him to do 
 anything in household matters, took care to please 
 him first by giving him intelligence that he could 
 rely upon. 
 
 His foster-brother, Omki, vexed him much by 
 bringing him rumours and suspicions of all kinds ; 
 but there was a great affection between Realmah 
 and Omki, and the King endured from his foster- 
 brother what he would not have borne from any other 
 man. 
 
 If Realmah was desirous to know the truth about 
 all manner of minor matters, it may be imagined how 
 anxious he was to have sound intelligence about 
 serious things connected with his government, and, 
 above all, to have exact accounts of the movements 
 of the men of the North. 
 
 For this purpose he posted men, upon whose vigi- 
 lance and judgment he could thoroughly rely, at all 
 the passes of that part of the country which is now 
 called the Vorarlberg. 
 
 The instructions he gave to these men were very 
 characteristic of him. He said, "Do not bring me 
 your suspicions ; do not bring me even your thoughts ; 
 do not worry me with rumours : I will only act upon 
 ascertained facts. 
 
2 
 
 " You all know the story of Kalvi the Timid, who 
 lived in the woods. It was always ' Wolves, wolves ! ' 
 with poor Kalvi. Even his wives ceased to be 
 frightened by him. At last, the wolves did come ; 
 and what said the wives ? ' Those are not the howl- 
 ings of real wolves ; but the boys, poor Kalvi, are 
 playing their wicked jokes upon you, as usual ; and 
 we will not shut the door.' 
 
 " My people must not liken me to Kalvi the Timid. 
 Do not bring me anything in the way of intelligence 
 that you have not seen with your own eyes. There 
 is always time enough. For once that we unwisely 
 delay to act, we act prematurely one hundred times. 
 Be wise ; and do not disturb your king until the real 
 moment for action comes." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE INVASION. 
 
 SEVEN years had now passed since Realmah's acces- 
 sion to the throne ; and, in the course of that time, 
 his power had immensely increased. Three objects 
 had chiefly occupied his attention : the manufacture 
 of iron, the gaining of allies, and the consolidation of 
 his sway over distant provinces that had hitherto 
 owned but a dubious allegiance to the Sheviri. In 
 all of these objects he had been eminently successful ; 
 and it is not too much to say that the kingdom he 
 ruled over was ten times as strong as it had been 
 when the burden of government first devolved upon 
 him. 
 
 He had urged on, with all the power of govern- 
 ment, the new manufacture of iron. He had formed 
 many firm alliances as firm, at least, as alliances 
 
330 Hculmulj. [CHAP. 
 
 ever are. After paying attention, in the first instance, 
 to the arming and disciplining of his own troops, he 
 had bestowed similar care upon those of his allies, 
 and had not hesitated to furnish the choice bands of 
 those allies, upon whom he could most rely, with 
 weapons which had been made in his own forges. 
 
 There was great murmuring amongst his people 
 upon this point. What a large mind it takes to be 
 profoundly generous ! and nations are mostly less 
 generous even than individual men. But few cared 
 to speak out openly against anything that Realmah 
 had set his heart upon ; for was he not Realmah- 
 Lelaipah-Mu Realmah the Foreseeing Youth ? And 
 almost all his subjects acknowledged that it was 
 not once, or twice, or thrice, that this man, their 
 King, had been right, and those who opposed him 
 wrong ; but that his words had uniformly proved to 
 be the words of prudence and of wisdom. Even 
 Condore, who was now an old man, joining the 
 peevishness of age to the confirmed habit of pro- 
 phesying evil, ceased to have any weight with his 
 fellow-countrymen, though he did not cease on every 
 occasion to foretell that no good would come of 
 whatever was proposed. For had he not once pro- 
 phesied that good would come ; and, being mistaken, 
 did he not take care never again to prophesy a good 
 result ? Realmah was wont to say to his courtiers, 
 with a smile, " Poor old Condore has been with us 
 to-day, and has told us, in words which once or twice 
 before I have heard from him, that what my govern- 
 ment proposes will not succeed. We needed but this 
 confirmation to act upon our resolve ; for has the 
 good Condore ever prophesied that it will thunder on 
 the left hand, that it has not impertinently thundered 
 on the right ? " This was not true, for Condore had 
 often been right in his forebodings ; but this was the 
 way in which Realmah chose to put it. 
 
xn.i &ealm&0, 33 l 
 
 Meanwhile, what had the men of the North been 
 doing ? It is not known to us ; but we may conjecture 
 that disputes amongst themselves had exhausted for 
 a time their warlike energies, and diverted their at- 
 tention from the conquest of the South. Whatever 
 was the cause, it is certain that the dreaded invasion 
 from the North had not occurred during these seven 
 years. The prudent mind of Realmah had not, how- 
 ever, been the less solicitous on that account. He 
 had never doubted that this invasion would come in 
 his time ; and not a day had passed in which he had 
 not done something in the way of preparation to 
 encounter it. 
 
 Realmah was much given to a splendid hospitality. 
 This hospitality was caused not only by his liberal 
 nature, but also by that spirit of melancholy which 
 ever encompassed him. It is often supposed that 
 the most melancholy among the sons of men retire 
 into privacy to indulge that melancholy ; but, on the 
 other hand, it may frequently be observed, especially 
 if they are in a great public position, that they 
 surround themselves with a multitude, in order to 
 chase away the dark thoughts of their own souls. 
 Thus it was with Cortes ; thus it was with Wallen- 
 stein, and with many others who have played a great 
 part in the world's affairs. 
 
 It was one day, early in the spring of the eighth 
 year of his reign, that Realmah sat at the head of his 
 royal table, surrounded by many of his best friends 
 and most trusted councillors. The King's jester sat 
 at his left hand, and rejoiced to see that every now 
 and then his ready jests provoked a faint kind of 
 smile from the weary monarch. 
 
 The feast was not concluded when, from the further 
 part of the hall, there arose an unaccustomed mur- 
 mur, and then a sudden silence. The crowd opened, 
 and there advanced towards Realmah a man, not clad 
 
00 
 
 [CHAP. 
 
 in festal robes, but dusty, toil-worn, travel-stained. 
 He approached the King hastily, and whispered in 
 his ear the ominous words : " They have come. 
 Through the Pass of Koraun they are pouring into 
 the Vale of Avildama by countless thousands." 
 
 He had hardly given his report when another mes- 
 senger in like guise entered the great hall, and, 
 rushing through the crowd, approached the King, 
 breathing into his ear similar intelligence, with this 
 addition, that the enemy were accompanied by women 
 and children, flocks and herds ; and that the whole 
 host did not appear to be less than 250,000 souls. 
 
 Realmah rose from his seat with alacrity, and, 
 with a loud voice and a most cheerful countenance, 
 announced the news to the assembled guests and 
 servitors. 
 
 " This is a day," he said, " that will ever be memo- 
 rable in our annals. For years we have been await- 
 ing in anxiety this attack ; and, now that it has come, 
 I feel all the relief that there must ever be when 
 suspense is turned into certainty. After the defeat 
 of these hordes (and of that defeat I am well assured), 
 such peace and joy as we have never known at 
 least, such as I have never known will be ours for 
 the glad future. But now to Council ; and, mean- 
 while, do all of you spread the joyful tidings through- 
 out the city." 
 
 Thus, like a great commander and politic states- 
 man, did Realmah simulate a joy he was far from 
 feeling, and throw forth a light of hope which was 
 but dimly reflected in the sombre recesses of his own 
 mind. 
 
 To both of the messengers he gave what he knew 
 would be considered great largesse, thanking them 
 publicly for their vigilance, and bidding them spread 
 the good news throughout the city. Drawing his 
 sword, he presented that to the first messenger ; and 
 
to the second he gave his own goblet, ornamented 
 with amber. 1 
 
 The feast was broken up, and the Council met at 
 once. The first thought of Realmah, on hearing this 
 disastrous news, had been a determination to get rid 
 of the greater part of his Council, and to conduct the 
 war in the plenitude of despotic authority. 
 
 When, therefore, he met the Council, he did not 
 allow the councillors to speak, but gave out his own 
 views as if they were not for a moment to be gainsaid, 
 or even questioned. 
 
 He then told them frankly that they would at first 
 be beaten at all points ; and that the only question 
 was, to exhaust the enemy's forces by the sacrifice of 
 greater numbers on their own side. He explained to 
 them that that was his policy. He was not for doing 
 anything ungenerous ; but the fate of the South 
 hung upon what he was doing. They must not, there- 
 fore, scruple to shed the blood of their tributaries 
 and their allies, as they would their own. The war 
 would have a successful issue if they could sacri- 
 fice a hundred of their own lives, or of the lives 
 of their tributaries and allies, for every thirty of the 
 enemy. 
 
 He gave special missions to almost all the members 
 of the Council, retaining only three with him. These 
 three were Delaimah-Daree, the man of many re- 
 sources ; Londardo, the man of unlimited daring ; 
 and Llama-Mali, Realmah's flatterer and dependant. 
 The King felt nearly sure that he should have his 
 own way in this diminished Council ; and secretly 
 resolved, if he were in the least degree thwarted by 
 them, to dismiss them also upon foreign service, and 
 to take the command alone. 
 
 1 It has surprised antiquaries to find that the inhabitants of the 
 I^ke cities possessed amber; and it has been conjectured that this 
 amber came by tra.de of some kind with the Baltic. 
 
334 ^amaf. [CHAP. 
 
 Before concluding the business of the Council, he 
 gave general orders for an illumination of the town of 
 Abibah, such as that which was held in the eighth 
 month of the year, in honour of Rotondarah, the god 
 of thunder and of storms. 
 
 He also ordered those councillors who were to 
 proceed upon missions to various parts of the king- 
 dom, and to the territories of their allies, to signalize 
 their arrival by similar illuminations in the various 
 towns to which they were ordered to proceed. 
 
 After the Council had broken up, he went to. his 
 own house, which, from motives of policy, he had 
 always retained, and where he often resided to show 
 that he did not personally care for grandeur and, 
 walking up and down the balcony for hours, he 
 revolved the whole conduct of the war. 
 
 Ah me ! how different are the thoughts of men in 
 this perplexed world from what those thoughts would 
 be if men were left to themselves, and were not per- 
 petually molested by their fellow-men ! Here was 
 Realmah, who loved the life of every living creature, 
 who would stoop to save the life of an insect which 
 had become embarrassed in running water ; and yet 
 his sole thought that moonlight night, as he paced up 
 and down the balcony, was how he could most advan- 
 tageously sacrifice the lives of his subjects so as to in- 
 sure the greatest destruction in the ranks of the enemy. 
 
 " Were I resolved to die," he said to himself, 
 "poor creature as I am in battle, they could not kill 
 me without my having at least slain one of the 
 enemy. I will give a great banquet to-morrow, to 
 the tribe of the fishermen and the ironworkers, and 
 upon them I will impress the idea that no man must 
 perish without having slain one at least of these 
 accursed Northmen." 
 
 With this consolatory idea, the great King at last 
 sought the repose that was so much needed for him. 
 
335 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 REALMAH'S PREPARATIONS FOR THE SIEGE. HIS PLAN OF THE 
 CAMPAIGN. 
 
 REALMAH lost no time in making his preparations 
 for resisting the siege of Abibah. He felt sure that 
 the Northern tribes would ask who was the greatest 
 king in those parts, and would direct their energies, in 
 the first instance, to the reduction of his power. 
 
 What he most feared was fire ; and his first efforts 
 were directed to meet that danger. All those parts 
 of the town which lay near the drawbridges he 
 protected with thin plates of iron. The neighbouring 
 parts to them he covered with a coating of clay and 
 small stones ; and the more remote parts of the town 
 with the hides of animals. 
 
 Fortunately, the supply of water was inexhaustible ; 
 but the provisioning of the town for a protracted 
 siege was a matter of anxious thought for Rcalmah. 
 
 As amongst the ancient Peruvians, so amongst the 
 Sheviri, their laws and customs provided for consi- 
 derable public storages of corn to meet the claims of 
 the widows, the orphans, and the sick. And, as it 
 was spring-time, there was nothing further to be done 
 in the storing of grain. 
 
 Much, however, might be accomplished by slaugh- 
 tering the principal part of their flocks and herds, 
 and drying the flesh in the sun. This was done ; 
 and, after great exertions, Realmah found himself in 
 a position to endure a siege of three months, without 
 being in the least degree liable to suffer from famine. 
 He was enabled to persuade his people to consent 
 to the sacrifice of the best of their flocks and herds, 
 by showing them that when the enemy came to 
 
33 6 JJealimtfr. [CHAP. 
 
 invest the city they must he masters of the plains 
 and the woodlands near, and the only question would 
 be whether the Sheviri, or the enemy, should feed 
 upon their flocks and herds. 
 
 The people were thoroughly docile to their king ; 
 and, on this memorable occasion, all private interests 
 were merged in a great effort to meet, and if possible 
 to defeat, the public enemy. 
 
 The name of the king who led the Northern forces 
 was Lockmar ; and the epithet that well described 
 him was Dansta - Ramah " the All- destroying 
 Flame." Like Attila, or Genghis-Khan, or any of 
 the fearful scourges who have devastated the fairest 
 regions of the earth, he was simply a brute kind 
 of a man, who loved carnage, and had gained the 
 superiority amongst his fellows by being, if pos- 
 sible, a lower and more ferocious animal than any 
 of them. Remorseless as a tiger, subtle as a 
 serpent, and brave as a lion, Lockmar had all the 
 sway which belongs to a supreme pre-eminence in 
 badness. 
 
 Against this man the gentle, kind-hearted Realmah 
 was pitted ; and it remained to be seen whether 
 brute force was always to be predominant in this 
 world. 
 
 The plan of the campaign, as it had long been 
 matured in the mind of Realmah, was very simple. 
 There were to be three armies in the field. The 
 Phelatahs and the Doolmen were to form the bulk of 
 one of these armies. The subject provinces were to 
 furnish a second army ; and the third, upon which 
 Realmah placed the greatest reliance, was to consist 
 of Sheviri, and to operate in the plain south of the 
 city, through which the great river Ramassa runs. 
 
 A small body of the troops of the Sheviri was to 
 be attached to the first and second armies. The 
 brunt of the war was to be borne by the army of 
 
xii. j amaj. 337 
 
 the Ramassa, as it was called. This army was to 
 be commanded by Athlah. 
 
 The relations between that chieftain and Realmah 
 had been greatly changed since the beginning of this 
 story. Athlah was a man who always believed in 
 power, and was very submissive to it. Besides, he 
 had learnt to appreciate fully the great qualities of 
 the King ; and on no one's could Realmah have 
 placed a firmer reliance than he did on that of 
 Athlah. 
 
 Realmah resolved to remain in the town of Abibah, 
 for he had many devices in his mind to prepare it for 
 a state of siege, and he was determined to fight the 
 invaders street by street, and not to yield as long as a 
 single vestige of the town remained upon the waters. 
 
 He intended to be present at the battle in the 
 plain, but he had resolved to come away from italive, 
 and to reserve all his energies for the siege. He did 
 not hesitate to let this intention be known to his 
 principal friends and councillors. He felt that the 
 knowledge of this intention (which was sure to leak 
 out) would give great comfort to the inhabitants of 
 the town, and induce them to bear without murmuring 
 the great labours and sacrifices which he was about to 
 impose upon them for the defence of the town. 
 
 He had in his own mind come to the conclusion 
 that each one of these three armies would be worsted, 
 but not without inflicting considerable loss upon the 
 enemy ; that they would then commence a siege ; 
 that this siege would be very impetuously maintained 
 for a short time ; that it would then languish ; that 
 he could direct a guerilla warfare against the southern 
 divisions of the enemy's army ; and, in fine, that he 
 could protract matters until the rainy season should 
 come on. By that time, he would have collected the 
 scattered remnants of these three armies, and would 
 make a final grand attack. 
 
 Z 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 The reasons which had led Realmah to form and 
 to rely upon this plan of campaign were these : 
 Though he had armed his own troops and some 
 of his allies with iron weapons, he was well aware 
 that every man of the Northern tribes would be well 
 armed. He was also aware that they had much 
 more practice in war than the nations of the South. 
 He,, therefore, concluded that his people and his allies 
 would inevitably be beaten in pitched battles until 
 he had called in pestilence and famine to his aid. 
 He also concluded that if he could withstand the 
 first great attack upon the town, these Northern 
 barbarians, who, he had heard, were very capricious 
 and unstable beings, accustomed to rapid victories, 
 would become tired of a protracted siege. They 
 wuuld then either retire, or be defeated upon his 
 striking a great blow, in concert with his allies, upon 
 the forces of the enemy diminished and disheartened 
 by pestilence and famine. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ACCOUNT OF THE CAMPAIGN THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN REALMAH 
 AND ATHLAH THE BATTLE OF THE PLAIN. 
 
 THE early- events of the campaign were such as 
 Realmah had foreseen. It is needless to recount the 
 battles, for there is hardly a more dull thing in the 
 way of narration than the narrative of a battle, unless 
 it is given in full detail, or unless it is signalized by 
 some remarkable incident or manoeuvre. 
 
 The Phelatahs and the Doolmen, who operated to 
 the north-east of the lake, were beaten, but not inglo- 
 riously. The army that was furnished by the subject 
 provinces was also defeated. 
 
339 
 
 Just as Realmah had anticipated, the men of the 
 North, after defeating these armies, directed their 
 course to Abibah. The army of the Ramassa went 
 forth to meet them ; and from day to day a battle 
 was imminent. 
 
 Realmah, as has been said before, resolved to be 
 present at this battle, but not to take any active part 
 in it. He trusted Athlah thoroughly ; was willing 
 and ready to give him aid and advice ; but told every- 
 body that Athlah was to be the real general, and was 
 to have the full credit for the conduct of the war 
 outside the town of Abibah. 
 
 Realmah had a body-guard of sixty men, each of 
 whom was devoted to him ; and, previously to the 
 battle, he told them what he had mentioned before to 
 his councillors, that he had no intention whatever of 
 dying on that field of battle, and that they must 
 take care and bring him back to the town of Abibah 
 unharmed. Before gunpowder was invented, it was 
 very difficult to kill a man who had sixty devoted 
 followers, each one of them ready to die for him. 
 
 It is a very remarkable statement to make, but 
 it is true, that not one of Realmah's subjects dared 
 to surmise, much less to say, that it was cowardice 
 on his part to resolve to come away from the battle 
 alive and unharmed. On the contrary, all felt that 
 while Realmah was gracious enough to remain alive, 
 and to constitute himself as a rallying point for 
 his subjects, the great cause could not be altogether 
 lost. 
 
 Realmah did not name any successor: he knew that 
 it would be idle to do so, for if he fell, the hopes of the 
 South would fall with him, and the Sheviri would 
 hereafter be the mere slaves or vassals of the North. 
 
 The interview between Realmah and Athlah on 
 the evening before the battle of the plain was a most 
 interesting one. 
 
 Z 2 
 
340 anmr, [CHAP. 
 
 In that vast area there was but one tent the 
 King's. All his people knew his sickness and de- 
 bility, and were delighted to provide for him that 
 comfort and convenience which he would not ask for 
 himself. 
 
 Athlah entered the King's tent. Realmah and 
 Athlah had for many years acted together in affec- 
 tionate concert ; but not one word had passed between 
 them having reference to the past. The wisdom 
 gained from experiencing the difficulties of high 
 command had greatly improved Athlah. He. had 
 learned to know himself better, and to understand 
 others better. He knew, for instance, that Realmah's 
 genius was one which could rebuke and dominate 
 his own. 
 
 After the first greeting, Athlah fell upon his knees, 
 and, kissing the King's hand, begged pardon for his 
 offences in past time. He said that in early days he 
 had not known the greatness of the King. 
 
 Realmah raised him affectionately, and said, " What 
 need of words, my Athlah ? I have long known that 
 you are the truest and most faithful of my subjects. 
 And not subject, but friend and councillor, and of my 
 heart, the core of heart." 
 
 Milverton. You see, Sir Arthur, even in that distant age 
 men talked, unconsciously, their Shakespere. 
 
 Realmah then explained to Athlah in close detail, 
 as he had done before in general words, the whole 
 drift of the campaign. 
 
 " The gods," he said, " dear Athlah, do not always 
 grant our first wishes ; and time with them is long : 
 and they are very patient. You must not rely upon 
 gaining a victory. I have made up my mind to bear 
 defeat. The plain to the rear of the wood, where 
 Ramassa curves towards Bidolo-Vamah, must be the 
 where, after defeat, you must collect the scattered 
 
xii.] 
 
 troops of the three great armies. That spot is pro- 
 pitious to me. 
 
 " I have sent our good Londardo to the Phelatahs. 
 He will bring what remains of their forces there. 
 
 " 1 mean to live. You are a warrior, Athlah ; I 
 am a craftsman : the resistance to the siege must be 
 under my sole guidance ; and, during many a weary 
 night of sickness, have I revolved every incident that 
 will probably occur in it. The siege it is that will 
 test their power, and, I trust, consume their souls. 
 
 " The army of the Ramassa, in a few weeks, will 
 be a great army, acting in concert with me." 
 
 Then Athlah said, " And must I survive defeat, my 
 King ? " 
 
 " Yes ; if you love me, live." 
 
 Then Athlah said, " But I have never turned my 
 back upon the enemy ; all my wounds are in front." 
 
 " What is life or death to a wise man, Athlah ? 
 Even the otlocol 1 has the sense to fly from superior 
 force ; but he comes again. 
 
 "What is life, I say, my Athlah? On balmy 
 days, when the breeze sighs gently, and all nature is 
 bountiful and loving, I feel the spirit of my Ainah 
 near rne. I would but too gladly join her ; but it 
 must not be yet." 
 
 Realmah then arranged what should be his mode of 
 communication with Athlah, when that chief should 
 have collected all their scattered forces in the plain to 
 the rear of the great wood. 
 
 After Realmah had instructed Athlah fully upon 
 these details, he embraced him lovingly ; and the 
 general then took leave of his king. 
 
 Athlah was attended by a splendid body-guard, 
 formed of the flower of the army. His conduct must 
 have appeared strange to them. After leaving the 
 
 1 The puma, or lion. 
 
34 2 tama. [CHAP. 
 
 King's tent, he walked with hesitating steps. When 
 he had moved a little distance, he drove his spear into 
 the ground and leaned against it, regarding the tent 
 with a fixed look. The chiefs of the Sheviri thought 
 that he was meditating about the battle that was 
 imminent, and observing, with the cautious eyes of 
 a commander, the nature of the ground. But his 
 thoughts were of a very different complexion. The 
 great French writer, Victor Hugo, in his description 
 of " the last days of a condemned man," describes 
 how, while the prisoner was being tried for his life, he 
 thought neither of his crime nor of his approaching 
 condemnation, but regarded, with much interest, the 
 movements to and fro of a little flower that was upon 
 the window-sill of a window in the court, and was 
 played with by a gentle breeze. 
 
 So it was with Athlah. The issue of a great battle 
 depended somewhat upon his sagacity and his courage, 
 but his mind dwelt only upon the words of Realmah 
 about the Ainah. " So then," he said to himself, " it 
 was that common-looking girl " (to such a man as 
 Athlah she would naturally appear but common- 
 looking) "who was his only love; and the beautiful 
 Talora is as a painted picture to him ! " 
 
 And the chiefs that stood around said to one 
 another, "There is not the slightest inequality of 
 ground of which the great Athlah will not make 
 some use in the battle of to-morrow." 
 
 And Athlah removed his spear, and walked on 
 moodily to his watch-fire, where he lay down to sleep 
 with his guards around him. 
 
 The battle did take place on the morrow. The 
 King surveyed it from a slight eminence on which he 
 was placed. Calmly he saw his chosen legions fall 
 before the disciplined valour of the enemy. Those 
 who were near him might have seen some tears 
 
343 
 
 course down his suffering countenance. But he said 
 nothing not a word. And when the victory was 
 evidently gained by the men of the North, and when 
 further resistance was manifestly hopeless, he allowed 
 himself to be conveyed back to Abibah. 
 
 He had previously sent twenty of his body-guard 
 on whom he could thoroughly rely, to mingle with 
 Athlah's body-guard, and, by force if needful, to 
 convey that general (giving it out as an order from 
 the King) to the plain behind the wood, where, as 
 before said, the Ramassa curves westward towards the 
 ruined mountain, Bidolo-Varnah, and where Realmah 
 had listened to his Ainah's song when she sang 
 
 " My love, he loves many ; 
 Though I love but one.'' 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE SIEGE. 
 
 IMMEDIATELY after Realmah's retreat into the town, 
 the causeways were destroyed, the drawbridges pulled 
 up, and every part of the town finally prepared for a 
 state of siege. 
 
 Before describing this siege it is necessary to give 
 some notion of the skill of the inhabitants of Abibah 
 in the art of building. This is the more necessary as 
 it is a fond idea of modern people that they are pre- 
 eminent in that art ; overlooking the masses of false- 
 ness, pretentiousness, and inappropriateness which 
 deform so large a part of their greatest towns. It 
 would rather astonish them if they could see again 
 ancient Mexico, Thebes, Memphis, Nineveh, Babylon, 
 and Cusco 1 the last perhaps the grandest city that 
 has ever been built upon this earth. 
 
 1 An eye-witness says : "I measured a stone at Tiaguanaco, twenty. 
 
344 amar. ("CHAP. 
 
 The construction of these Lake cities was also 
 most remarkable. In the remains of one of them 
 there are this day to be seen the relics of about 
 twenty thousand piles. Now the art of pile-driving 
 is a most difficult one ; and those who are skilled 
 in it move from place to place where their services 
 are wanted. But if we were to say to the inhabi- 
 tants of any ordinary English town, " Build us, with 
 all the means and appliances that are at your com- 
 mand, but without any aid from specially skilled 
 workmen, a town upon water which shall have for 
 its basis twenty thousand piles/' we should find, 
 from their difficulties and their failures, what great 
 mechanical and workmanlike skill would be requisite 
 for such an undertaking, and should have a just re- 
 spect for the powers, the skill, and the perseverance 
 of the men of Abibah. 
 
 Five days after the battle of the Ramassa, the 
 enemy commenced the siege. They naturally com- 
 menced it at the southern part of the town, which 
 was the part nearest to the shore. They had em- 
 ployed the intervening days in constructing rafts, 
 which they did by tying together the smaller trees 
 which they had hewn down in the great wood. 
 
 A low, long building, devoted to barracks, formed 
 the principal defence on the southern side of the 
 town. It was, in fact, a long semi-inclosed balcony, . 
 for the most part open at the back, but having in 
 front only those openings which admitted of missiles 
 being thrown from them. 
 
 eight feet long, eighteen feet broad, and about six feet thick ; but in 
 the wall of the fortress of Cusco, which is constructed of masonry, theie 
 are many stones of much greater size." It appears from modern re- 
 search that some of these stones were fifty feet long, twenty-two feet 
 broad, and six feet thick. " Habia entre ellas algunas que tenian 
 cincuenta pies de largo, veinte y dos de alto, y seis de ancho."- 
 Antiguedades Pentanas, por Mariano Eduardo de Rivero y Juaii 
 Diego de Tschudi, cap. ix. p. 2^0. 
 
xii.] ccima 345 
 
 Realmah's plan of defence for this building was 
 very singular. He meant the enemy to take it, and 
 to perish after they had taken it. The whole of the 
 flooring was to fall into the water, and the enemy 
 with it, immediately after they had occupied it. But 
 what showed his skill in its construction and his 
 knowledge of human nature, was, that he had planned 
 that this falling-in of the flooring should take place 
 in separate portions, separately. Between the piles 
 there was generally a portion of the flooring that 
 would enable thirty men to stand upon it and defend 
 it ; and each of these compartments was so con- 
 structed that, by the cutting of a single cord, it would 
 descend into the water. 
 
 Realmah knew well that if all the men who were 
 to defend this position knew that the flooring was 
 suddenly, and perhaps without their knowledge, to 
 descend into the water, they would be apprehensive 
 of being left with the enemy and perishing with them. 
 He also knew that if it depended upon the occupants 
 of any particular compartment, or rather upon their 
 captain, at what moment the flooring of that com- 
 partment should fall in, the men defending it would 
 fight bravely to the last. To insure and reward this 
 bravery, he offered a reward of iron swords with 
 amber handles, to the survivors of that band of thirty 
 men who should make the stoutest resistance. 
 
 The enemy advanced upon their rafts to the attack 
 with great determination, and with great confidence 
 of success. Their advance was covered by 3,000 
 archers, who occupied a small eminence just above 
 the shore, and whose missiles dealt death to many 
 a brave defender who but for a moment exposed 
 himself to their deadly shafts. The besieged on their 
 part were not inactive. Many of the attacking party 
 fell by their iron-pointed javelins ; many more were 
 disabled by the boiling pitch poured down upon them 
 
34 6 Ifcalmal. [CHAP. 
 
 as they neared the fortress. Still they pressed on, 
 and swarming up the low building, found entrance 
 here and there. For fully an hour the attack and the 
 defence were vigorously maintained. The time would 
 have been much shorter, but that the archers, who 
 formed the covering party on the hill, were no longer 
 able to give assistance to their friends, when be- 
 siegers and besieged were commingled in the fight. 
 At length the enemy gained entrance at all points, 
 and then the stratagem of Realmah had its full 
 effect. The floorings everywhere descended almost 
 simultaneously, and nothing was to be heard but 
 the cries of drowning men, shouting helplessly for 
 succour from their friends, who were cut off from 
 them. Thus ended the first day's siege, with a signal 
 failure on the part of the besiegers. 
 
 For seventeen days there was no further attack 
 Realmah was at first much puzzled at this inaction, 
 but by his spies he soon learnt that a division of the 
 enemy's army had gone to attack Abinamanche, the 
 capital of the Phelatahs. 
 
 He readily conjectured that this was done in order 
 to possess themselves of the fleet of canoes belonging 
 to Abinamanche, and therefore was not the least 
 surprised when, on the fifteenth and sixteenth days 
 after the first encounter, he perceived numerous canoes 
 creeping along the shore, and making their rendezvous 
 not far from the enemy's head-quarters on the shore. 
 
 On the eighteenth day the siege recommenced. 
 This time it was a much more formidable attack. It 
 may seem strange, but will be accounted for hereafter, 
 that Realmah did not bring his own little fleet of 
 canoes into action, but reserved it for a much more 
 critical occasion. 
 
 The enemy, who were skilled warriors, having been 
 accustomed to fight the men of their own hardy 
 North, had not been idle during there seventeen 
 
xii. J gcalmab. 347 
 
 days. Besides availing themselves of the fleet of 
 the Phelatahs, they had constructed three times the 
 number of rafts with which they had attempted the 
 former attack. 
 
 On this second attack they brought no less than 
 16,000 men into immediate action. 
 
 Realmah was undismayed. He had too long 
 thought of the coming evil to be unprepared for it. 
 
 It is needless to give the almost innumerable 
 details of the attack and defence on this day. Both 
 sides showed the utmost determination ; but, as the 
 sun descended behind Bidolo-Vamah, that luminary 
 might have seen that the enemy had made a lodg- 
 ment in Abibah, and that their troops occupied the 
 " Street of the Ambassadors," which ran parallel to 
 the fortress that had been the point of attack on the 
 first day, and which communicated with the whole of 
 the southern part of the town by four other principal 
 streets. Previously to this lodgment being made by 
 the enemy, Realmah had caused barricades to be 
 formed at the end of these streets. 
 
 For eleven more days no fresh general attack was 
 made by the enemy, though continual fighting and 
 great slaughter took place at these barricades. 
 
 Meanwhile the valorous Athlah was re-forming his 
 army. Meanwhile the enemy were constructing more 
 rafts. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE CONDUCT OF THE VARNAH DURING THE SIEGE. 
 
 I INTERRUPT the description of the horrors of the 
 siege to tell what part the Varnah took in it. The 
 present was an occasion on which her great ability 
 in practical matters shone forth. 
 
34-S J^aJma. [CHAP. 
 
 She knew her husband's character intimately. She 
 was, perhaps, the only person in his wide dominions 
 who had never changed her view of that character. 
 She liked him because he was very indulgent, and 
 very reasonable for a man. Moreover, he was a 
 good listener, and entered into all her plans for the 
 welfare of the people very heartily. 
 
 Spiritual things were not in her domain. She knew 
 that she was not great in comforting Realmah ; and, 
 excellent woman that she was, wished that the Ainah 
 was alive again for that part of the business. She 
 was the only person who conjectured how much 
 comfort Realmah had derived from the Ainah's 
 sympathy. 
 
 The Varnah was one of those women who really 
 have a considerable disrespect for men. She thought 
 contemptuously of their objects in life. She knc\v 
 that Realmah was great amongst men : he was very 
 clever in managing councils, and settling about treaties 
 and alliances ; but she looked upon all these matters 
 as a kind of amusement for beings who did not see 
 what is the real object of life namely, to be thriving 
 and comfortable. 
 
 She was always, however, very deferential, both in 
 public and private, to her husband, and was greatly 
 vexed that Talora did not see that similar conduct on 
 her part was an absolute duty. Much as the Varnah 
 feared Talora's bitter tongue and cruel temper, she 
 once or twice plucked up courage to tell her that she 
 did not behave well to the man who had raised them 
 both to the great position which they occupied. 
 
 Her Loftiness was greatly liked by the people. 
 Even her frugality had endeared her to them. People 
 do not like others the less for having something to 
 laugh at about them. Her subjects had well known 
 that Her Loftiness was a very frugal woman, fond of 
 acquisition, very different from their king ; but they 
 
xii.] anmr. 349 
 
 forgave her these defects when they found that she 
 was willing to sacrifice all her treasures for the public 
 good. 
 
 On the present occasion she was in the most fitting 
 element for the display of her gifts and powers. In 
 every place where her presence was needful she was 
 to be found encouraging, consoling, and proffering 
 aid, medicaments, and food with a most liberal hand. 
 No one said now that Her Loftiness was acquisitive 
 or mean ; but they felt what true generosity there 
 may be in a prudence which is only prudent for the 
 sake of others. 
 
 Far otherwise was it with Talora. She was ever 
 declaring blame, and prophesying disaster. Realmah 
 grew so wearied of her depressing influence that he 
 had her conveyed to the head-quarters of Athlah's 
 army, while he kept the Varnah with him, as his first 
 aide-de-camp, and as the true dear friend to whom 
 he could tell everything, even the worst that had 
 befallen him. 
 
 She had one great merit in his eyes : she never 
 troubled him by wishing to know what he was doing. 
 Realmah received her as he did one of his generals, 
 and gave her instructions as if she had been a man. 
 
 I have said that the Varnah, when married, was 
 not remarkable for good looks. But dignity sat 
 well upon her; and whatever beauty and grace she 
 possessed had been developed by the greatness of 
 her position. Such simple-minded characters as hers 
 are never deficient in dignity ; and Realmah was 
 thankful that, in this emergency, such a woman had 
 been vouchsafed to him, as his friend and counsellor, 
 if not his consoler, who was worthy in so many 
 respects to be the Queen of the Sheviri, and who 
 proved to be far greater in adversity than in pro- 
 sperity 
 
350 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE LAST DAYS OF THE SIEGE. 
 
 ON the twelfth day after the lodgment was effected, 
 another great attack was made upon the southern and 
 western quarters of the town. 
 
 A few words must here be given in explanation of 
 the way in which Abibah had been built 
 
 When the first settlers commenced driving their 
 piles, there was, from some inequality in the nature 
 of the ground at the bottom of the lake, a curved 
 line about eighteen feet in breadth and about a 
 thousand yards in length, in which the piles sank 
 hopelessly into soft mud, finding no footing. This 
 part therefore had been abandoned as foundation, 
 and had been bridged over by flooring which could 
 easily be removed. It divided the city in this way : 
 that two-fifths of the city were on the southern and 
 western side of this sort of covered canal, and three- 
 fifths on the other side. The canal itself was called 
 " The Way of the Pescaras " (the largest kind of fish 
 found in those waters). Unfortunately, there was a 
 bit of the eastern quarter of the town which was in 
 a similar way cut off from the main part of that 
 eastern quarter by a canal. The enemy became 
 aware of this fact. That island, if it may be so 
 called, in the eastern quarter, was mainly occupied 
 by a small fortress. 
 
 The attack, on the part of the besiegers, commenced 
 at the rising of the sun. The number of assailants 
 who were brought into immediate action was twice 
 as great as that which had been brought into action 
 on the previous occasion. And, moreover, they had 
 this great advantage, that their people had gained 
 
xii.] $jUaImafjr. 351 
 
 and maintained a lodgment in the " Street of the 
 Ambassadors." From early morning till late evening 
 the battle raged furiously in the southern and western 
 quarters, and also at that part of the eastern quarter 
 which I have described. 
 
 By the evening all the barricades were forced. 
 The women and children were hastily removed into 
 the northern and eastern quarters of the town, where 
 the poor creatures were huddled together in the open 
 spaces. 
 
 Where the battle raged most furiously was in the 
 great market-place, which, for the sake of conve- 
 nience, as being nearer to the land whence they drew 
 their supplies, was in the southern part of the town. 
 Here Realmah himself was present, though not taking 
 much part in the action. In his mind he compared 
 the attack of the numerous enemy to a flood of 
 molten lava. The comparison was a just one; for, 
 as in the flow of a stream of lava it is at the edges 
 of the torrent that there is least force, while at the 
 middle part it boils up and overflows the edges, so it 
 was with the attack of the enemy, who pressed over 
 the prostrate bodies of their own men, and over- 
 whelmed Realmah's now disheartened forces. 
 
 The shades of evening came on, and found the men 
 of the North in possession of the two-fifths of the 
 town, bounded by the Pescara Canal ; and also, 
 which was still more alarming, of the fortress in 
 the eastern quarter of the town. The slaughter on 
 both sides had been immense ; and, alas ! many 
 women and children of the town of Abibah had 
 been slain during this dreadful day. One remark- 
 able incident must be commemorated. Litervi, that 
 cautious and judicious councillor, had returned from 
 his mission, and had been placed in command of the 
 eastern fortress. Like another great man whose fate 
 is commemorated in the story of one of the greatest 
 
35 2 Ecalmalj. [CHAP 
 
 sieges that ever took place in the world, Litervi 
 had found himself alone at the topmost part of the 
 fortress, with all his warriors slain around him ; and, 
 after hurling his massive club (for he was one of 
 those old-fashioned warriors who could not take to 
 the new weapons) upon the enemy beneath him, he 
 threw himself down being resolved to slay at least 
 one of the enemy by that last missile. This was told 
 to Realmah, who merely remarked that Litervi was a 
 wise, happy, and good man. 
 
 Llama-man, too, had shown his devotion in a very 
 unexpected manner. According to the usual theory, 
 Llama-mah, who had been a flatterer in the days of 
 prosperity, ought to have been a coward and betrayer 
 in the days of adversity. But men are so strange 
 in their ways that there is no accounting for them. 
 Llama-mah, at the risk of his own life (for he 
 received a dangerous wound), had stepped in front of 
 Realmah and saved the King's life in the great fight 
 in the market-place ; for Llama-mah really loved the 
 man he had so often flattered and beguiled. 
 
 Realmah sat in the great Hall of Audience on the 
 evening of this day's disastrous fight. A cordon of 
 his guard kept off the crowd of persons who came 
 for orders, admitting them one by one. Suddenly a 
 head, which had been hurled over the canal by the 
 enemy with loud triumphant shouts, was brought to 
 Realmah. He recognised at once the noble features 
 of Londardo, who, it appears, had fallen in some 
 skirmish, while leading the scattered troops of the 
 Phelatahs to the place of rendezvous. 
 
 Realmah was much affected by this sight, but did 
 not show what he felt. He merely observed " Pre- 
 serve it for a noble burial when we have conquered." 
 
 All night long the King received his chieftains, and 
 gave to each man the orders or the encouragement 
 that he required. There was one thing that much 
 
xn.j iUalmao. 353 
 
 astonished these chieftains, who were all men of 
 high rank, namely, that sundry obscure persons, 
 mere artisans, fishermen, and iron-workers, were ad- 
 mitted to Realmah's presence, and had long audiences 
 of the King. 
 
 The first faint dawn of morning, with its cold grey 
 light, began to appear. Realmah quitted the Hall 
 of Audience and went up to the topmost story of his 
 uncle's palace, now his own. Realmah was fond of 
 high places ; and this topmost story, or watch-tower, 
 having an open gallery round it, was the only addition 
 he had made to that palace. 
 
 What a scene was spread before him ! Towards 
 the north and west he could hardly discern any water 
 for the innumerable rafts of the enemy, which now 
 surrounded those parts of the town. To the extreme 
 east, however, there was a sight to be seen which 
 gladdened the King's heart. A large army of the 
 Sheviri and their allies was posted on the eastern 
 heights about three miles and a half distant ; and, to 
 attack them, numerous bodies of the enemy's troops 
 were already beginning to march eastward, deserting 
 their quarters on the southern shore of the town. 
 
 Reaimah had ordered that, upon no account, what- 
 ever might happen, should he be disturbed while he 
 remained in this watch-tower. Joyfully he observed 
 the movement of the enemy's troops on shore, 
 until the greater part of them had moved to a 
 position within a mile's distance of Athlah's. He 
 then raised a large green flag, and watched with 
 satisfaction his little fleet, which he had kept far 
 out of harm's way until the present moment (a fleet 
 of arrant cowards, as the enemy called them), move 
 in good order, round the eastern part of the town, 
 and take up a position close to the southern quarter 
 of the town, near that part of the shore which the 
 enemy had abandoned. 
 
 A A 
 
354 
 
 Meanwhile he had raised a large red flag which 
 he still kept in his hand. One half-hour, a time of 
 dreadful suspense, in which Realmah seemed to 
 himself to live a life, passed away ; and then, to 
 his infinite joy, appeared in twenty or thirty different 
 places in the southern and western parts of the town, 
 on the further side of the Pescara Canal, light wreaths 
 of smoke the prelude to so many great fires. 
 
 Realmah's plan was simple. He had resolved to 
 sacrifice two-fifths of his town, and by that means to 
 secure victory. His own escape at the outbreak of 
 the revolution had long given him the groundwork 
 of this plan. He had caused maps to be carefully 
 made of what we may call the underground, or rather 
 underfloor, part of his city, and knew to a nicety 
 those devious paths upon the waters along which 
 small boats could make their way amongst the piles. 
 Thirty canoes, which had been moored under his 
 palace, had been destined for this work of incen- 
 diarism ; and their men had been furnished with the 
 most inflammable materials. 
 
 Realmah had hardly time to descend from his 
 watch-tower and place himself at the head of his 
 troops before the flames had burst out furiously in 
 many quarters of that part of the town occupied by 
 the enemy. They were utterly dismayed by this new 
 and unexpected form of attack, and before they had 
 time to recover their presence of mind, Realmah had 
 thrown planks across the Pescara Canal, forming 
 temporary bridges, and was upon them. 
 
 His own people had not thoroughly known Real- 
 mah before that day. There are two lines of Byron's 
 which well describe what had been, and what were 
 now, Realmah's feelings and his mode of action : 
 
 " Then all was stern collectedness and art, 
 Now rose the unleavened hatred of his heart." 
 
355 
 
 Thus it is ever with men in whose natures are com- 
 bined great passion and great prudence. A hundred 
 times, perhaps, they play with the hilt of their swords ; 
 and the bystander, or opponent, little knows how 
 much they have longed to draw them, and what 
 restraint they have exercised upon themselves. But 
 when the time has come, and they do flash forth those 
 swords, it is with a fury that contains in itself the 
 long-accumulated passion hitherto oppressed and con- 
 trolled, but never really annihilated, by the restraints 
 of prudence. 
 
 The King's feelings were very bitter against the men 
 of the North. To them he traced all the misfortunes 
 of his life. By reason of them he had been made a 
 prisoner. For them he had lost his Ainah. To con- 
 tend with them, he had left the peaceful paths of life 
 so dear to him, and had become a king, with all the 
 miseries (for to such a man miseries they were) of 
 kingly state. Silently he had seen his choicest troops 
 fall before these barbarians. Silently, and with no 
 outward demonstration of sorrow, but with tears of 
 the heart, he had seen the poor women and children 
 of Abibah slaughtered before his eyes ; and, at this 
 moment, he saw a large part of the city he loved so 
 well about to be consumed by fire, to get rid of these 
 hateful invaders. 
 
 The King was that day as one possessed. Danger 
 and Death, as if scared by such a madman, fled before 
 him. His guards, the most active and energetic of 
 the young men, toiled after their sickly, careworn, 
 almost-deformed King, in vain. 
 
 The enemy in the city being attacked at once by 
 fire, by the fierce Realmah, and by the fleet of boats 
 which prevented their escape, and cut off their retreat, 
 perished nearly to a man. Those on the rafts made 
 at once for the southern shore, where they joined the 
 main body of the troops, who, discovering the strata- 
 A A 2 
 
35 6 |ealma|, [CHAP. 
 
 gem that had been devised against them, quitted their 
 position opposite to Athlah's camp, and returned to 
 their old quarters. 
 
 There was mourning and lamentation in the enemy's 
 camp that night. Three of their greatest chiefs 
 (amongst them it was said the King of the North 
 himself) had perished in the town. 
 
 All night the flames rose higher and higher, and 
 affronted the placid skies. These flames did not 
 invade that part of the town which lay to the north 
 and east of the canal ; but the rest of the town was 
 completely consumed. There was not, however, a 
 man amongst the Sheviri so base as to lament publicly 
 the loss of his own habitation. 
 
 Meanwhile Realmah joined Athlah. The next day 
 a great attack was made upon the position of the men 
 of the North ; and their complete defeat ensued. 
 Hardly a man escaped to tell the tale ; but Realmah, 
 naturally merciful, gave orders for sparing the women 
 and children who had accompanied the men of the 
 North. These were incorporated into the nation of 
 the Sheviri, who learnt many of the arts of life from 
 their captives. 
 
 Thus were the men of the North defeated, without 
 the aid of pestilence and famine ; and, for genera- 
 tions, they did not venture again to invade the now 
 indomitable South. The name of Realmah became 
 a word of terror with which they scared their fretful 
 children into swift obedience. "And the land had 
 peace." 
 
 Elksmere. I am not too much devoted to Realmah, but 
 I am glad that he and the besieged have got the best of it. 
 I am always on the side of the besieged. I remember be- 
 coming quite excited on behalf of the Dutch when I read 
 Motley's account of the siege of Antwerp. 
 
xii.] camuj, 357 
 
 Sir Arthur. And then, as boys, how we pitied poor 
 Priam, and longed for Hector to gain the victory. I sup- 
 pose there is no boy who has not been against that bully 
 Achilles, and who has not been anxious to blab to the 
 Trojans about the real contents of that wooden horse, which 
 seems so stupid a device. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. I wonder that the Trojan women did 
 not find it out. Now Realmah would not have been taken 
 in by such a device, for he had something of woman's 
 nature in him, and of woman's wit. 
 
 Ellesmere. Say craft. But indeed, my lady, you are 
 talking a great man's talk without knowing it. That 
 deep thinker, but not always perfectly intelligible writer. 
 Samuel Taylor Coleridge, maintained that all the 
 greatest men have something of the feminine nature in 
 them. 
 
 Sir Arthur. One Trojan maiden, Lady Ellesmere, did 
 warn her people Cassandra; but nobody believed in 
 her. 
 
 " Tune etiam fatis aperit Cassandra futuris 
 Ora, del jussu, non unquam credita Teucris." 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Without translating, gentlemen must 
 not talk Latin, nor smoke, nor swear, in the presence of 
 ladies. 
 
 Ellesmere. She thinks now she has been very epigram- 
 matic. Then men may swear if they translate it ? The 
 commonest form of muddlement in sentences is occa- 
 sioned by this endeavour to be brief. You apply two 
 or three nominatives to one verb, or two or three verbs 
 to one nominative, which do not agree together if you 
 look at them separately. I am obliged to translate for 
 Lady Ellesmere. What she did mean was, that, in the 
 presence of ladies, men must not smoke without permission : 
 must not swear at all : and must not quote Latin without 
 translating it. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Sir John's conjugal correction of Lady 
 Ellesmere, of the justice of which I am very dubious, 
 
 Ellesmere. Saccharin ity again ! 
 
CHAP. 
 
 Sir Arthur. has given me time to make my trans- 
 lation : 
 
 " For ever disbelieved by Trojan ears, 
 
 So willed the god, Cassandra told her fears." 
 
 Ellesmere. Such an odd thought struck me while Mil- 
 verton was reading. 
 
 I recalled to my mind Dr. Johnson's going about, with 
 his ink-bottle stuck in his coat, at the sale of Thrale's 
 brewery, and saying, " We are not here to sell a parcel of 
 boilers and vats, but the potentiality of growing rich beyond 
 the dreams of avarice." 
 
 You do not see how this applies, do you ? But I said to 
 myself, We are not here to listen to the obscure battles of 
 the Sheviri and the Phelatahs, of the Doolmen or the Kool- 
 men, and their Athlahs, and Realmahs, and Lockmars 
 (about as interesting, as Milton would have said, as the 
 battles of kites and crows) ; but we are listening to the 
 political notions of a man who is contemplating the present 
 state of Europe and America. 
 
 What he means I do not know for certain, but I have 
 ideas. 
 
 Sir Arthur. And so have I. 
 
 Ellesmere. But I shall not declare my ideas, because 
 Milverton will be sure to say they are not the right ones. 
 
 Cranmer. I am sure I do not see what is meant. 
 
 Ellesmere. Perhaps not ; I only said I had ideas. They 
 are not taxable things, Cranmer, and you cannot prevent 
 my having them. They won't hurt you, Cranmer. 
 
 Mauleverer. I see nothing more in it than this, which I 
 believe I knew before, without the aid of the ingenious 
 Milverton, that men had always had plenty of tyrants and 
 oppressors among them, and that, a few times in the world's 
 history, these tyrants and oppressors had been beaten back. 
 
 But the Northmen will come again, arid then there will 
 be no Realmah to resist them. 
 
 Ellesmere. I know all about it. I know the nation 
 which eventually conquered the Lake cities : and, what is 
 of more importance, 1 know how the nation attained to its 
 greatness. 
 
XIT.] JUalmat, 359 
 
 To make the rest of Sir John's discourse intelligible, 
 I must give a little explanation. Sir John is a man 
 who indulges in very few theories. He chiefly 
 employs himself in demolishing the theories of other 
 people ; but one theory he has, and holds to very 
 strongly, viz. that grey-eyed people are much cleverer, 
 wiser, and better than the black-eyed or the blue- 
 eyed. It was pointed out to him that Lady Elles- 
 mere has grey eyes, and we knew that he would 
 never admit in public that she had any especial merit. 
 He merely said that this was the one exception which 
 did not " prove the rule," as foolish people say, but 
 which confirmed the statement that there is an excep- 
 tion to almost every rule, however well founded. 
 
 Ellesmere. The nation in question was the nation of the 
 Gogoes. A Gogoe of more intelligence than his neighbours 
 put forth the theory that all the blue-eyed female children 
 under three years of age should be made into mince-meat. 
 This theory found favour among many ingenious and 
 thoughtful people. There was soon a mince-meat society, 
 then a mince-meat newspaper. 
 
 The question then entered into the domain of politics. 
 The Gogoes were chiefly governed by two great councils. 
 The most potent council was that which sat in the Hall of 
 Echoes, and was an elected body. The other council 
 consisted of the stoutest men of the community, and 
 was an assemblage of Mauleverers, but chiefly of a jolly 
 nature. 
 
 The mince-meat question was taken up by an important 
 party in the first-named council. They were never able, 
 however, to make it the law of the land. 
 
 You can easily imagine what an excellent subject it was 
 for debate how much there was to be said on both sides 
 of the question. Eventually the anti-mince-meat party came 
 into power. 
 
 Here I am going to say something so profound, and yet 
 so simple, as regards politics, that if people were allowed 
 to carry round a hat, and to receive subscriptions when they 
 
3 6 IJjealmajy. [CHAP. 
 
 had said anything very good, I should, of course, receive 
 much largesse from this liberal company. 
 
 It is this. You suppose that the mince-meat party fell 
 from power for some great political reason. Those are the 
 kind of reasons that historical people, like Milverton, en- 
 deavour to impose upon us, to account for great political 
 changes ; whereas I am a practical man, and I know better. 
 The party fell because people were tired of it. You think 
 that it is only Aristides of whom his neighbours were tired. 
 But I tell you that Julius Cassar, Sejanus, Thomas a Becket, 
 Cardinal Wolsey, Thomas Cromwell, and a host of others, 
 fell simply because the principal people concerned with 
 them were tired of them. You are fond, Milverton, of 
 quoting that saying of Talleyrand, " that he was avid 
 of facts." I say that " all men are avid of change." 
 Why, men become tired even of themselves, and of their 
 position, however powerful ! And thus it was that the 
 mince-meat party in the Gogoe Hall of Echoes fell. 
 
 Meanwhile public opinion amongst the Gogoes had been 
 pronounced more and more in favour of the mince-meat 
 question. What did the party newly in power do ? They 
 were always for large measures, if they were for any mea- 
 sures at all. Largeness was their forte. They proposed 
 that the black-eyed portion of the young maidens should 
 undergo the same fate as that which had been proposed for 
 the blue-eyed. 
 
 The original mince-meat party was astounded ; but what 
 could they say or do? Their arguments against the blue- 
 eyed were found to have equal force against the black-eyed, 
 and the large measure passed unanimously. 
 
 From that time forward the Gogoes became a great 
 nation. They were not so much " blessed " or shall we 
 say " bored?" by an affluence of women, as the surround- 
 ing nations were ; but all their women, whether won by 
 conquest of neighbouring nations, or born in' their own 
 territory, were grey-eyed, which became the fashionable 
 colour. It was the Gogoes, as far as my historical researches 
 have gone, who devastated Europe, and conquered the 
 Lake Cities, and to this day their grey-eyed descendants are 
 ruling men wherever they are to be found. 
 
3 61 
 
 The original country of the Gogoes (this will be a Mil- 
 vertonian touch) is where the great river Niebelungen curves 
 round the base of the great mountain Oltivago, and falls 
 into the Lake of Palmah, which was then the central part of 
 Europe. I flatter myself that that is equally precise and 
 descriptive, and conveys to you the idea of a territory which 
 can easily be recognised in the present day. 
 
 We all laughed very much at the droll way in 
 which Sir John had illustrated his favourite theory, 
 and had combined it with a satirical view of modern 
 politics. Afterwards there was no more conversation, 
 and we went our separate ways. 
 
362 $Ualnm}. [CHAP, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MY master, Mr. Milverton, has a great dislike to 
 taking a walk. He can be energetic enough if there 
 is anything to be seen, or done; but walking for 
 walking's sake is odious to him. When the others 
 were going for a walk, he would accompany them 
 across the little bit of flat garden, and even to the 
 entrance of a paddock : but there he would take 
 leave of them, unless there were some remarkable 
 clouds to be seen which could be observed better in 
 the open space of the paddock. Beyond the confines 
 of the paddock I hardly ever knew him favour any- 
 body with his company. 
 
 I mention this trifling circumstance because it 
 occasionally prevented me from reporting conver- 
 sations which I should like to have reported. 
 
 Mr. Milverton always viewed with pity anybody 
 who went for a long walk. He would say, "Elles- 
 mere has gone for a long walk upon the Downs 
 to-day, poor fellow ! " And I really believe he did 
 pity Sir John upon such an occasion, though Sir John 
 himself immensely enjoyed getting rid of some of 
 his superfluous energy by a walk of ten or twelve 
 miles. 
 
 Upon the present occasion they had all gone 
 for a long walk, except Mr. and Mrs. Milverton 
 and myself. We stayed at home and worked at 
 " Realmah." 
 
 On their return, they all came rushing into our 
 study, boasting of the immense walk they had taken, 
 with a kind of insolence, as if they had done some- 
 
3 6 3 
 
 thing wonderful ; and calling us " muffs " for having 
 stayed at home all day. 
 
 I will now report the conversation which followed : 
 
 Ellesmere. Ah ! Master Leonard, we have had such 
 brilliant talk during our excursion. I would have given 
 anything for you to have been with us. After discussing 
 almost all human affairs with a degree of wisdom which is 
 only known to stalwart walkers, we came to a question which 
 would have delighted you. It was, Given a benevolent fairy 
 (I have never myself held a brief for any such party, but 
 Sir Arthur is sure that there are such parties), and given that 
 the said fairy offered to each of us the absolute fulfilment of 
 any wish we might please to make, what should we wish 
 for ? Now you know you would have been in your element 
 in such a conversation. You must not suppose for a mo- 
 ment that this was the ordinary benevolent-fairy business. 
 I limited their wishes in this way that they must wish for 
 something, not for themselves, but for the good of the 
 world, and that the something in question must not be 
 foolishly wide and conclusive, such as " I wish that every- 
 body may be happy and good ;" in short, they were to wish 
 for means, not ends. Moreover and this was the best 
 part of my limitation, as it knocked off all such things as 
 invisible coats, and ten-leagued boots, and swords of all- 
 powerful sharpness that would make their way even to the 
 brains of bores in Parliament that the thing wished for 
 must be an increase of something which is in existence. 
 
 I need hardly tell you what they all wished for. Mr. 
 Cranmer, of course, wished that the benevolent fairy would 
 endow him with an insight into the depths of political 
 economy, and especially favour him with its views about 
 the Bank Charter Act, in order that he might make the 
 world happy by his next speech upon that subject in the 
 ensuing session of Parliament. 
 
 Sir Arthur, of course, wished that the benevolent fairy 
 would impress upon mankind his notions of the beautiful. 
 He thought that an increased perception of beauty in nature 
 <md in art would add immensely to human happiness. 
 
364 |iLeaIma{)r. [CHAP. 
 
 Mr. Mauleverer wished that the benevolent fairy would 
 have the goodness to inform mankind thoroughly and com- 
 pletely what a miserable set of wretches they are. They 
 would not then follow after all manner of foolish schemes of 
 happiness, which only lead to disappointment. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere expressed a wish that the benevolent 
 fairy would instruct mankind as to the wonderful qualities 
 and merits of her son Johnny. His future success in the 
 world would be the best means she knew of for insuring 
 happiness to mankind. 
 
 Cranmer. There are very few grains of truth, we need 
 hardly tell you, Milverton, in all he has said. 
 
 Ellesmere. I disregard their vain assertions. You know 
 as well as I do, Milverton, that these were their secret 
 thoughts, even if they pretended to wish for others. 
 
 Now, what do you say ? 
 
 Milverton. Well, if I must make a choice, I should say 
 this : Please, benevolent fairy, grant that there should be 
 more love in the world. 
 
 Ellesmere. This is vague. These philosophers are always 
 vague. What do you mean by love ? 
 
 Milverton. You know very well what I mean that 
 charity, as described by St. Paul, should prevail to the extent 
 which that great Apostle himself desired. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, Master Sandy, and what do you say ? 
 
 Johnson. Well, I say, Let intellect prevail : let the great 
 thinkers among mankind be able to impress their views 
 upon the rest. 
 
 Ellesmere. This, now, is also somewhat vague. Like 
 master, like man ! The thinkers differ amongst themselves. 
 My dear Sandy, you must be more precise. You know very 
 well what you mean namely, that what Milverton dictates 
 and you write should govern the whole of the habitable globe. 
 
 Johnson. I do, Sir John. 
 
 Ellesmere. That is an honest boy. Have you nothing 
 especial to say about Scotland ? 
 
 Johnson. No ; I will be quite content with the wish I 
 have expressed. 
 
 Ellesmere. Now, Mrs. Milverton, it is your turn to have 
 a wish. Shall we wish that Milverton shall be made Lord 
 
xni.j IjUalmufj* 3 6 5 
 
 Milverton ? Shall we wish that little Leonard shall cut all 
 his teeth without suffering, and shall become one of the 
 wisest of mankind ? 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. I will not have words thrust into my 
 mouth. I am not going to say anything that Sir John 
 Ellesmere chooses that I should say. My wish is of a 
 totally different kind. I wish that all mankind should see 
 the beauty of what Goethe calls Renunciation. 
 
 Milverton. Bravo, my dear! I believe that you have 
 mentioned the thing which would tend most to raise man- 
 kind into a higher atmosphere of being. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. This is not my own idea ; but what, 
 in his most serious mood, I have heard Leonard dilate 
 upon. 
 
 Ellesmere. You see, Lady Ellesmere, what it is to 
 follow out your husband's views. If you had only said 
 that your wish was that there should be an affluence of 
 good and good-natured criticism in fact, that there 
 should be a Saturday Review for every day in the week 
 what kudos you would have gained from this worshipful 
 company ! 
 
 Now then, Sir Arthur, and Mr. Cranmer, and Mr. Maule- 
 verer, and Lady Ellesmere, if I have not represented you all 
 truly, say your say. 
 
 Mauleverer. I say, Let the earth produce more corn, and 
 with less trouble. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I say, Let the distinction of nations, or 
 rather of races, cease to have such effect as they have had 
 in latter days. 
 
 Ellesmere. You forget, Sir Arthur : you must ask for 
 something more, not something less. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Well, then, let there be more cosmopolitan 
 good feeling. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. What I wish is this : That the feeling 
 for pain (physical pain, if you please to put it so) should be 
 so predominant throughout mankind, that no one should 
 knowingly do anything which should increase the physical 
 pain of man, woman, animal, fish, or insect 
 
 Here the ladies rose and left us. 
 
3 66 Uealmar. [CHAP. 
 
 Ellesmere. I declare the women have been very clever 
 to-day. It was very sharp of Mrs. Milverton " going in," 
 as the slang phrase is, for " Renunciation ;" and for my wife 
 trying to do away with all pain that is caused by our reck- 
 lessness of physical sufferings. Of course, she does not see 
 the full extent of her views, and that all war would be put 
 an end to, if her benevolent fairy granted her the wish that 
 she seeks for. But now, Cranmer, you protested against 
 my representation of your opinions. What do you wish the 
 fairy to grant you ? 
 
 Cranmer. That representative government should be 
 brought to perfection, and should prevail everywhere. 
 
 Ellesmere. I declare you are all very unkind to me : you 
 have never seriously asked what I wish for. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Pray tell us. We are sure that it will be 
 something quite out of the common way. 
 
 Ellesmere. No ; I believe what I should ask would be 
 the greatest boon that could be demanded for mankind. I 
 only ask this simple, trifling thing that good reasoning 
 should have its exact weight with mankind. 
 
 Now all of you think that this is a small, poor, inadequate 
 wish ; but you may depend upon it, it beats all of yours out 
 of the field. 
 
 Give me one thousand millions of mankind (that is the 
 present number on the earth, is it not, Cranmer?) reasoning 
 accurately upon the arguments brought before them, and I, 
 for my part, do not wish any more. 
 
 I hate to " talk shop," as it is called ; but if you will give 
 me the present Lord Chancellor, that good, just, and honest 
 man, Lord --- , to decide upon all questions for the world, 
 I shall be perfectly satisfied. And if my wish were granted, 
 every man would be as good an appreciator of arguments as 
 Lord --- . 
 
 Sir Arthur. So, you would remit all earthly and heavenly 
 questions to the Court of Chancery. 
 
 Ellesmere. I would ; and you will never have a tribunal 
 so competent to decide upon them. We don't look at 
 popular opinion, or at aristocratic opinion, or at philosophic 
 opinion, or at unphilosophic opinion ; we decide upon the 
 exact matters brought before us; and I do say, however 
 
367 
 
 much it might horrify you, that if you would only have the 
 humility to submit any great question to the judicial autho- 
 rities of this kingdom, it would be well decided. 
 
 Milverton. What, the highest abstract questions ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes. We I am speaking for the great lights 
 of the Bench are equal to decide any earthly question 
 brought before us. We have ascertained what justice means. 
 We are really impartial. I believe that in England there is 
 more of the judicial faculty developed than in any other 
 nation. Newspapers, what you are pleased to call public 
 opinion, political considerations of all kinds, personal con- 
 siderations of all kinds, weigh not with us. We shall simply 
 (I am speaking for our great judges) give its due weight 
 exactly to what is brought before us to decide upon. 
 
 I must admit that Sandy and I seem to have somewhat 
 of the same idea. There is-, however, this distinction. He 
 says, Let great intellect prevail ; I say, Let good reasoning 
 prevail. According to his system there would be endless 
 contention ; whereas, according to mine, there would be 
 clear judicial decision and precise action consequent 
 thereupon. 
 
 The company then rose. 
 
 Mauleverer. Stay. I must say something more. You 
 have all taken this matter more seriously than I expected, 
 and I desire to recall my former wish. I should ask for 
 more knowledge. 
 
 It has become the fashion in this house of late, to express 
 one's ideas after the mode of the Sheviri, by fables or 
 apologues. Now I wish you to listen very patiently to 
 a little story of mine. 
 
 Once upon a time there was an island (I observe most of 
 your stories relate to islands), the unfortunate inhabitants 
 of which were molested in this way : An invisibl-e fiend, 
 supposed to rise from the ground, would lay hold of one 
 of these inhabitants and give him a sound beating, making 
 every bone to ache. The fiend would repeat this chastise 
 ment at regular intervals, say every two, three, or four days, 
 at the same hour of the day. At last any poor man who 
 
368 HUalmalr. [CHAP. 
 
 was so persecuted would tremble and shiver all over when 
 the time for his punishment came. But if this poor man 
 had but known (see the advantage of knowledge) one or 
 two simple things, he could have defied his enemy. 
 
 The first was a salve which, when applied to the eyes, 
 rendered the foul fiend perfectly visible. Now this fiend 
 was a slow, dull, heavy fiend. 
 
 Ellesmere. Slow, dull, heavy, and punctual, therefore 
 a good fiend of business, as we say a good man of business, 
 Cranmer. 
 
 Mauleverer and never could mount higher than 
 
 thirty feet. 1 Consequently if the man went up a ladder 
 thirty feet high, he could laugh at the dull fiend, and 
 defy him. 
 
 But more than this, there was a good natured wood-sprite, 
 a dryad, who would walk hand-in-hand with any of the poor 
 men of the island, and would carry him safely through any 
 of the fastnesses of the foul fiend. Unfortunately, however, 
 for thousands of years, neither the eye-salve, nor the habi- 
 tation of the wood-sprite, who by the way lived some six 
 thousand miles off, though he would come at a minute's 
 notice, were known to the inhabitants of the island. 
 
 Cranmer. I have not the least idea what you mean. I 
 wish all of you would talk more plainly. You despise blue 
 books, but really they are much more intelligible than you 
 are with your pink and blue " sleep," and with your 
 Spoolans, and foul fiends and wood-sprites. 
 
 Mauleverer. To come down then to a blue book, the 
 foul fiend is the ague. The eye-salve is the micr scope, 
 which has shown us exactly the limits of the ague spore. 
 The wood-sprite is Jesuit's bark or quinine. 
 
 Now I beg to ask you, Milverton, whether your "love," 
 or Mrs. Milverton's " renunciation ;" or, Mr. Johnson, your 
 "thinking;" or, Ellesmere, your "reasoning," would ever 
 have found out a remedy for the ague ? No : you must all 
 admit that I should ask the fairy for the right thing, merely, 
 more knowledge. 
 
 1 See an excellent paper on this subject in a recent number of All iht 
 "Year Round. 
 
3 6 9 
 
 I hope too, you all observe, that the instance I have 
 given shows the exceeding misery of man, and how much 
 too small he is for his place, that he should go on suffering 
 all this misery for thousands of years when a little knowledge 
 would have raised him above it. 
 
 Depend upon it the present generation is suffering in an 
 exactly similar way from many such evils, moral, intellectual, 
 and physical, which a little more knowledge would dispel. 
 
 No one made any reply, and the company then 
 separated. 
 
 B B 
 
370 ama. [CHAP. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 I WAS telling Mr. Milverton the interest I had felt in 
 the conversation of yesterday about the choice of 
 gifts from the benevolent fairy. " Well," he said, " if 
 you like this kind of fanciful discussion, we will have 
 another. What shall we choose ? I think it would 
 call out all Ellesmere's comicalities, if we were to ask 
 what he would do if his life were to be prolonged to 
 the length of those of the patriarchs." 
 
 When two people have resolved that a conversation 
 shall come to a particular point, they can always 
 manage to effect their object. Accordingly, when we 
 next met, Mr. Milverton and myself soon contrived to 
 place the question before Sir John Ellesmere in the 
 manner that we had proposed, and the conversation 
 proceeded thus : 
 
 Ellesmere. I am to have a 900 years' life. Let me see, 
 what age did I convince you all the other day that I was ? 
 I think thirty-seven. Well, then, in the first place, I decline 
 to live 863 years with Lady Ellesmere. You know, my 
 dear, you are a most agreeable woman ; but in the course 
 of a few hundred years, always struggling, as you do, for 
 mastery, you would be sure to gain complete power over 
 me, and I object to being such a slave as you would then 
 make of me. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. There was nothing said, John, about my 
 having the same term of life as yours. No person, even 
 in imagination, could be so cruel as to make a poor woman 
 live for hundreds of years with you. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Pray let these interesting conjugal remarks 
 cease ; and let us hear what you would aim at, Ellesmere, 
 if you had before you this great length of life. 
 
37* 
 
 Ellesmere. I have no objection to tell you. But you 
 must not fancy that everything I say is a joke. I do not 
 like being always the funny man of the company. If I say 
 something which I really mean, but which does not happen 
 to fit in with your small notions of wisdom and propriety. 
 you laugh your silly laughs, and have not the slightest faith 
 in the earnestness of what I say. 
 
 Cranmcr. We will believe in you, Sir John, as much as 
 we possibly can. 
 
 Milverton. Now then, Ellesmere, proceed. 
 
 Ellesmere. In the first place, I would abolish the penny 
 post. 
 
 Milverton. That we knew before. 
 
 Ellesmere. In the next place I would disinvent tele- 
 graphic communication, 
 
 Milverton. Good. That we knew too. 
 
 Ellesmere. When I say I would do this thing, or that 
 thing, you must readily see that I should have the power 
 to do it, because, outliving the rest of mankind, I should 
 get the whip-hand of the whole nation. My experience 
 would prevail over theirs, and I should be universally 
 listened to and respected. 
 
 I should abolish bells, and so win Sir Arthur's heart. I 
 mean out-of-door bells. I never met with any sensible 
 person who liked these noises. 
 
 Milverton. True : but really, Ellesmere, what small things 
 you are proposing. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, I will come to much greater, then. I 
 would set my face against the growth of great cities. People 
 laugh at James the First, and think him a pedant and a 
 fool ; but I have always thought him very wise in his strong 
 objection to the increase of London. If you allow cities to 
 increase in this way, you ultimately get them so big that it 
 is impossible to have fresh air. I am as serious as I ever 
 was in my life, when I say 'that the perpetual and rapid 
 increase of London is a grief to me. 
 
 Milverton. I quite agree with you. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, then, I would build a house a model 
 house. I really think that a great many of the evils 
 that afflict mankind are to be traced to the badness of 
 B B 2 
 
37 2 eamaf. [CHAP. 
 
 habitations. I do not bother myself with what your sanitary 
 reformers say about things ; but I can see that nine-tenths 
 of your difficulties would vanish if good houses and cottages 
 were built. 
 
 Cranmer. But what do you mean by a good house ? 
 Ellesmere. Well, if you must know, I mean, in the first 
 place, a washable house washable thoroughly, inside and 
 outside. Building, as I should, for 800 years, I should re- 
 solve to be free from paperers and painters and plasterers, 
 and, in short, from repairers of all kinds. 
 
 Sir Arthur. But, Ellesmere, as Milverton says, you have 
 hitherto mentioned such trivial things mere mint and 
 cummin. 
 
 Ellesmere. I would reform dress. Is that a small thing ? 
 Again : I would establish recreation such recreation as 
 has never hitherto been thought of. There should be no 
 town, however small, which should not have its appointed 
 place for recreation for indoors and out-of-doors recrea- 
 tions. In every town yes, almost in every village there 
 is musical talent enough to form the delight of the popula- 
 tion if it were well developed. 
 
 Milverton. I really think that Ellesmere is upon the 
 right tack now. 
 
 Ellesmere. I would also provide medical aid and service 
 for almost every centre of population, however small. 
 By the way, I would certainly set up an ^Edile. 
 Mrs. Milverton. I am very ignorant, but I do not know 
 what an ^Edile is. I suppose it is a person, not a thing. 
 And if it is a person, what duties has he to perform ? 
 
 Ellesmere. It is said that the late Bishop of London 
 being asked by some inquisitive foreigner (what a nuisance 
 it is when people are always wanting information) what an 
 English Archdeacon had to do, judiciously replied, "Oh, 
 an Archdeacon is a person who performs Archidiaconal 
 duties." So I say an ^Edile was a person who performed 
 /Edilian duties. Seriously, I am afraid, in the presence of 
 these learned men, to undertake to give a full account of an 
 ^Edile's duties. I may say briefly that he was the arch- 
 putter-down of nuisances. If there was such an officer 
 now mark you, he was a very powerful man I should 
 
373 
 
 Rot be plagued with street cries, with the howling of my 
 neighbour's dog, with unwholesome odours of all kinds ; 
 and it would be his business to see that I was generally 
 made comfortable. Only tell him that you suspected that 
 your goods were dealt out to you with false weights and 
 measures, and he would soon settle that matter for you. 
 No Boards, nor Commissioners, nor people 'of that kind to 
 consult, and to receive dreary official letters from ; but 
 you would have a swiftly-perambulating Lord Mayor with 
 plenary authority. London would require a good many 
 ^diles. 
 
 Cranmer. Would you abolish lawyers ? 
 
 Eltesmere. This is a very painful question ; but I think 
 I would. In the course of 800 years, using the legal 
 talents of each generation, I should be able to arrange 
 and codify the law; and then I would only have public 
 notaries. 
 
 Sir Arthur. What about war ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Here I should shine. Here would come in 
 that practical good sense of which I possess so large a 
 share. We are such a set of foolish, quarrelsome little 
 beasts, and we derive so much pleasure from hearing about 
 sieges and battles, and knowing of the miseries of our 
 fellow-creatures, that I should not endeavour to abolish 
 war altogether. But what I should do is this. I should 
 reduce the European armies in the following proportion. 
 I should allow them one man for each thousand that they 
 now possess. France, for instance, should have 700 
 soldiers ; Austria, about the same number ; Prussia, 600 ; 
 England, 450; Russia, 800; and the United States, goo. 1 
 The great naval powers should be allowed a ship apiece, 
 and one or two gun-boats. These little armies and navies 
 should go about fighting away like fun, and undertaking 
 what would then be thought great battles and sieges. The 
 newspapers would still be well fed with interesting events ; 
 and taxation for war purposes would be insignificant. I 
 should have outside the great cities little model cities, 
 
 1 It must be remembered that this conversation took place some 
 tune ago. 
 
374 camaj. ICHAP. 
 
 which should represent them for warlike purposes a neat 
 little Paris outside Paris : and I should scatter some 
 squalidity in the way of building about Wimbledon Com- 
 mon, and call it in military despatches, London. 
 
 Again, another reform I should institute of the utmost 
 magnitude is this : I should abolish after-dinner speeches. 
 
 Sir Arthur. The world would be grateful to you for that. 
 
 Ellesmere. Then I should bring my enormous power and 
 experience to bear upon all literature. I should reduce 
 three-volume novels to one. 
 
 Cranmer. But about the newspaper press? What 
 should you do with that ? 
 
 Ellesmere. For the sake of freedom, I should allow one 
 article in each newspaper to be published without signature. 
 To all the others I should require signature. I should make 
 the newspapers into an octavo shape, with the leaves cut. 
 
 Johnson. What about the Church ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I should forbid any one to preach a sermon 
 more than once in three weeks. I would make sermons, 
 instead of being nuisances, things to which the congrega- 
 tion would look forward with expectation, and listen with 
 delight. 
 
 Mauleverer. What about education ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, in that matter I would institute reforms 
 that would astound you. I would organize bands of well- 
 instructed persons who should go about the country and 
 teach everybody everything ; and not merely teach in the 
 ordinary way, but exemplify. 
 
 Cranmer. And this is your practical man, who laughs at 
 theorists and enthusiasts ! 
 
 Ellesmere. Recollect I have 800 years and more to work 
 in. I should be able to organize a system which, if it were 
 well developed, would far surpass the present. I would 
 have people who could teach the rudiments of the best 
 arts in life who could instruct in cookery, in natural 
 history in the properties of earth, air, and water. I know 
 what is to be said in respect of the shallowness that may 
 result from mere lecturing ; but, on the other hand, I have 
 observed how greatly those people are enlightened, elevated, 
 and instructed, who have had only what is called a smatter- 
 
xiv.] amar. 375 
 
 ing of knowledge, derived from judicious lectures. And 
 then, look at this. There is a genius in some remote 
 place or obscure position one of those people described 
 in Gray's Elegy, 
 
 " Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 
 
 The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear," 
 
 and the good seed of instruction falls upon his or her 
 mind ; and then we have an inventor. The consideration 
 of Newton's life has always weighed much with me. It 
 has been a great blessing to mankind that that wonderful 
 man was not a labourer's child. Being a farmer's son, 
 he got the rudiments of education, and upon that small 
 platform what a building did he not erect ! I mean my 
 peasants' children to have, at least, all the advantages that 
 Newton had. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I declare, Sir John, you are becoming quite 
 eloquent. 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh ! I should mainly rely upon education. 
 That is the chief fulcrum upon which we could raise society. 
 
 Cranmer. What about political economy ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Don't be unhappy, Cranmer. In the course 
 of 800 years about the ySist I would settle the Bank 
 Charter Act, and there should be no more of these absurd 
 panics. 
 
 Milverton. What about government ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I would in this respect institute reforms of 
 which you are now only dreaming. Do you think I would 
 be plagued to death with distant peoples' affairs ? Not I. 
 Do you think, as Sydney Smith says, I would have upon 
 every bare rock, where a cormorant can hardly get its living, 
 a Governor, and a Bishop, and an Attorney-General? Not 
 but what the last-named officer would be useful anywhere ; 
 but still we must do without even him when we cannot 
 afford to have him. 
 
 Milverton. I beg you all especially to remember what 
 Ellesmere has just now said. 
 
 Ellesmere. Then, as to home government; I would 
 abolish bribery and suppress bores in the House of 
 Commons. 
 
376 |iealma$r, [CHAP 
 
 A man should prove to me that he knew something 
 about government before he should govern ; and not even 
 Milverton himself, with all his schemes, should educe a 
 more comprehensive form of official government than I, in 
 my 800 years, would strive to create. You do not think I 
 would have a Lord Privy Seal, do you, when the Privy Seal 
 had ceased to be an entity of any importance ? 
 
 Cranmer. What about the House of Lords ? 
 
 Etlesmere. I would certainly make my House of Lords 
 a senate consisting of the wisest and ablest men who had 
 filled public functions, and also consisting of those men 
 who, from their education, their health or rather, . their 
 want of health and their peculiar nature, were not espe- 
 cially fit to solicit popular suffrages, but were justly fitted 
 to become members of a legislative assembly. 
 
 Milverton. What would you do about the poor ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, I feel that the labouring poor have an 
 immense claim upon us. I would render smooth and happy 
 their lives in their latter days. I believe that we could well 
 afford to do so, and that these poor people have the greatest 
 claim upon us. If a man or woman has worked, we will 
 say, for fifty or sixty years, in the production of the ' fruits 
 of the earth for us, we are bound, I think, to render happy, 
 as far as we can, the last years of this poor person's life. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I must still say, Sir John, that your inven- 
 tive genius does not take great flights. You would crush 
 the penny post, disinvent I think that was the word the 
 telegraph, build a house, abolish bell-ringing, and send 
 round lecturers, who if I make out right were chiefly 
 to be good cooks, improve the House of Lords, and a 
 few other little transactions of that kind. But the human 
 mind 
 
 Ellesmere. Wait a bit, Sir Arthur. I am going to take 
 the human mind, or rather the human soul, in hand pre- 
 sently. You may depend upon it, however, that the human 
 body needs our first attention. How can a man be virtuous 
 in a smoky house, listening to the noise of those detestable 
 bells, startled by the penny postman's rap, delivering bills 
 all the day, and being threatened by those alarming tele- 
 graph envelopes? 
 
xiv.] amajr- 377 
 
 But now for the human mind. I shall put down jealousy. 
 I do not mean man-and-woman jealousy; but all that 
 misery which arises from sensitive people being afraid that 
 they are not liked enough, that they are not made enough 
 of, that they are neglected, that somebody is foolish enough 
 to prefer somebody else to them. 
 
 Milverton. Your 863 years will be full of work, I see. 
 
 Ellesmere. I am discontented with that word jealousy. 
 Give me another word, Milverton. 
 
 Milverton. Claimfulness? 
 
 Ellesmere. Not a bad idea; but the word is an ugly 
 word, and will not do. 
 
 Milverton. Claimativeness, then ? 
 
 Ellesmere. That is better. 
 
 Now the reason that Milverton and I have been such 
 good friends from boyhood upwards is, that we are both 
 so free from jealousy, or, to use his own word, claima- 
 tiveness. 
 
 This is no merit on his part ; but a great one on mine. 
 Of course Milverton has great faults in my eyes. He always 
 likes everybody. He has fewer dislikes than any man I 
 ever met with. Whereas I own to having a good many 
 hearty dislikes and he never partakes them with me. I 
 might have been jealous or claimative a thousand times, 
 seeing him take to people whom I cannot endure, and 
 whom I might fancy he prefers to me. 
 
 You come and complain to him that So-and-So is a horrid 
 bore, and Milverton replies : " Well, but he has built a 
 great many cottages on his estate," or " he is very kind to 
 his three maiden aunts," or " he is very great in Byzantine 
 literature," or "his views upon the digamma are sound, "- 
 or " he is a great natural historian, supereminent in moths," 
 or " he knows which are the edible fungi ; and the poor 
 would gain so much if the right fungi were brought into 
 fashion." 
 
 Well, I distrust fungi : I do not care much for moths, 
 they are sure to worry one by burning themselves in the 
 candle as a poor clergyman is to invest his savings in 
 Poyais Bonds or any other destructive security. I loathe 
 the digamma, which I believe to have been a thing invented 
 
37 8 
 
 by schoolmasters to plague mankind, or rather boykind. 
 I am not attracted by the three maiden aunts, and 
 I am not going to live in So-and-So's cottages ; but. I 
 know that So-and-So is an egregious bore, and I might 
 naturally be jealous of Milverton's making so much of 
 this man. 
 
 I am really so free from jealousy or claimativeness, that 
 if I were to find that Milverton had invited a very agree- 
 able party to Worth Ashton, and I was not asked, I 
 should not feel that I was neglected ; but should conclude 
 at once that there was good reason for my not being 
 asked that the digamma man was to be there, and it 
 was thought that I should speak irreverently of the 
 digamma, or that there was scarlatina in the village, and 
 that no risk was to be run for dear little Johnny. In a 
 word, I should firmly believe that Milverton would long to 
 have me with him; but could not manage it. I should 
 not be in the least claimative. Indeed the more I con- 
 sider myself, which I seldom have time to do sufficiently, 
 the more I perceive that I am really a very great man 
 (though Lady Ellesmere does not think so) ; and in the 
 course of these 863 years I should make other people as 
 great as myself. 
 
 Mr. Cranmer. But how is this to be done, Sir John ? 
 
 Ellesmere. . Why, man, I should direct all literature and 
 all education, and all sermonizing; and I should have 
 claimativeness written, talked, educated, and sermonized 
 down. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Does it ever enter into your imagination, 
 Sir John, that this claimativeness, which you inveigh against, 
 proceeds from modesty? 
 
 Ellesmere. I hate modesty. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. No wonder. 
 
 Milverton. But, seriously, my dear fellow, do consider 
 that you have always been a successful man ; that you have 
 good health ; that your enemies would say not that I 
 say it that you have a little touch of hardness in your 
 character; and that, perhaps, you do not make sufficient 
 allowance for humble, timid, sensitive people, who are 
 naturally prone to think they are neglected 
 
xiv.] camn. 379 
 
 Ellesmere. It is all selfishness or immoderate self-esteem, 
 That, too, is the cause of shyness. I am not shy. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Oh yes, you are, John. I do not 
 know anybody who is more shy when he is in the com- 
 pany of those who do not sympathise with him, or under- 
 stand him. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, in the course of the 863 years I will 
 get rid of shyness, and modesty, and claimativeness, and all 
 my other vices if I have any ; and I will become a great 
 man, and will bring all other people up to my level. 
 
 Sir Arthur. You are gradually to rule all literature. 
 You kindly intimated to us that you would reduce all three- 
 volume novels to one. How is this to be done ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I am an outrageous and immoderate reader 
 of fiction. I admire, as I have told you, the writers of 
 fiction mazingly ; but I have great faults to find with them, 
 especially with their incidents. 
 
 Now, there is dear old Sandy there. He is just the sort 
 of quiet, observant fellow to be mapping all our characters 
 down, and forming us into a novel. I will address him 
 as if he were an arch-novel writer, and will give him such 
 a lecture as will make him the first novel-writer of his 
 time. 
 
 Johnson. Pray, do, Sir John, for then my fortune is 
 made. 
 
 Ellesmere. Now, Sandy, you are the arch-novel writer, and 
 I am the hero of the novel. 
 
 In the first place I decline to go to a picnic party. You 
 novel-writers always make something very important occur 
 at a picnic, whereas in real life I have never found anything 
 important occur, except that the earwigs are mixed up with 
 the salt. I will not go to a picnic. 
 
 Johnson. Yes, sir. 
 
 Ellesmere. I will not be upset from a boat. No sooner 
 do I read in any novel that there is a river, or a lake, near 
 the principal house, than I know that I, the hero, am to be 
 upset from a boat. Matilda and Louisa are to be with me. 
 Matilda I really love, Louisa I am engaged to. In rescuing 
 these two dear creatures I am to throw Louisa carelessly 
 into the bottom of the boat, while I am to support Matilda 
 
380 llealmafr. [CHAP. 
 
 in my arms, and to whisper to her (loud enough to be 
 heard by Louisa), " Matilda, dearest, open your eyes once 
 more, and gaze upon your beloved Augustus." I object, 
 in this damp fashion, to be brought to betray my affections 
 and to lengthen out the second volume. Do you hear, Mr, 
 Novel-writer ? 
 
 Johnson. I do, Mr. Hero. You shall not be upset from 
 a boat. 
 
 Ellesmere. Thank you. Well then, sir, I decline, after 
 having enjoyed my property for twenty years, to have a 
 will of my great-uncle's discovered in an old book, which 
 should dispossess me of the property, and make me liable 
 for the back rents received during those twenty years. 
 
 Johnson. The great-uncle's will shall not be found, Sir John. 
 
 Ellesmere. Thank you. Again, I do not wish my uncle 
 in India, Mr. Currie Pudder, to have made a fortune and 
 to leave it to me exactly at the right moment. I can do 
 without my uncle. 
 
 Sir Arthur. There are few people who can. 
 
 Johfison. I must not be rash. I cannot promise you. 
 Sir John, that you are not to have Mr. Currie Pudder as 
 your rich uncle in India; and if you please, I must kill 
 him when I choose, and not when it is perfectly conve- 
 nient to you. 
 
 Ellesmere. Very good. There is one comfort, Master 
 Sandy, that you are not going to live for 863 years. 
 
 I am now going to impress upon Mr. Novel-writer one 
 of my strongest objections to his usual mode of proceeding. 
 I have declined many pleasant things ; and now I decline 
 to be made successful in any calling or profession upon 
 having merely distinguished myself upon one occasion. In 
 your novel, Johnson, if I, the hero, make a speech, as a 
 lawyer or a politician, produce a remarkable sermon as a 
 clergyman, cure one difficult case as a doctor all of a 
 sudden, honours, dignities, and riches pour in upon me 
 like a flood, and Matilda's father withdraws all his ob- 
 jections. If I am a poet, and write a sonnet; if I am a 
 prose-writer, and write an essay; the great publishers all 
 at once besiege my doors that is, in the novel, for in 
 real life I never experienced anything of the kind. My 
 
KIV. 
 
 gtalraafr. 381 
 
 early sonnets were laughed at, and my first speeches 
 were said to be " very well for a young man;" but Pump 
 Court was not inundated by attorneys' clerks inquiring the 
 way to Mr. Ellesmere's chambers. 
 
 The truth is, the world is very hard, and yet a somewhat 
 elastic substance ; and you have to hit it many consecu- 
 tive blows, and to keep on hitting it, before you produce 
 any such impression as will create for you a serviceable 
 reputation. 
 
 Why, in a novel I have, known Mr. Hero rise suddenly 
 from being a private secretary to being a Cabinet Minister ; 
 but nothing like this happens in real life. When you see 
 a successful man, you generally find him middle-aged, 
 slightly bald, very haggard-looking, and generally with 
 dints in his face which show how much he has endured 
 and laboured. He is a much battered-about individual, 
 and not at all like the young man who rejoices in Matilda's 
 love, and who has suddenly, at one bound, prevailed over 
 adverse fates, and conquered fortune. 
 
 Now, without any joking, it is a very mischievous thing 
 to misrepresent life as novelists often do in this respect, 
 and so to indicate that success is to be attained by anything 
 but hard, long, and continuous effort. 
 
 Mr. Novel-writer, I would rather you would overwhelm 
 me with rich uncles, or make me pick up treasure in Oxford 
 Street, than delude me by making me put forth an all-com- 
 manding speech, sonnet, essay, or sermon. What do you 
 say to this, Sandy? 
 
 Johnson. I really am placed in very unpleasant and dif- 
 ficult circumstances. My hero is without any money ; and 
 Matilda's father is obdurate. My hero has gone forth to 
 seek his fortune in the world; and I really cannot wait 
 until he is slightly bald and somewhat " battered," to use 
 Sir John's expression, and Matilda has grown very stout, 
 before they are to be married. What is to be done ? There 
 must certainly be an unlimited supply of uncles, or on that 
 little bit of land which my hero has retained out of all his 
 possessions, and which lies on the top of a down, a coal- 
 mine must be discovered. I am not to be bullied by 
 geology, at any rate. 
 
|kalmab. [CHAP. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, discover your coal-mine for me, Sandy, 
 in preference to your making statesmen a.nd attorneys and 
 publishers act contrary to their natures. 
 
 Well, then, I absolutely refuse to have a brain-fever 
 brought on by change of circumstances and unaccustomed 
 work at a critical time of my fortunes. I never had a 
 brain-fever even when Lady Ellesmere, benighted woman, 
 at first refused to have anything to say to me. Have you 
 had a brain-fever? or you, or you, or you, or you, or you ? 
 [turning to us all.] 
 
 We all answered in the negative. 
 
 Then why should I have one ; and why should I reveal 
 in moments of delirium my especial regard for Matilda 
 and her blue-grey eyes, black eyelashes, and auburn 
 hair? 
 
 Johnson. I am very sorry not to be able to oblige a 
 gentleman-hero in your position ; but I am not sure that 
 I can carry on my novel without your having a brain-fever. 
 
 Ellesmere. What tyrants and pedants these novel-writers 
 are ! 
 
 Well, one thing I protest against, namely Matilda's 
 coming and nursing me when I have the brain-fever. I 
 cannot imagine a more disagreeable thing for a poor hero, 
 when he is ill, than having the young woman he keeps 
 company with come to look after him in his dangerous 
 illness. 
 
 AVould you like to hear the passage in the novel which 
 describes the unpleasant transaction ? 
 
 [We said that we should.] 
 
 " Edwin " I like the name of Edwin better than Au- 
 gustus ''had for a month been hovering between life 
 and death. Dimly, during the last four days, he had been 
 conscious of a presence which had seemed to him like a 
 beautiful vision. On the fifth day he opened his eyes, and 
 discerned a creature of joy and beauty which reminded him 
 of his Matilda, but which he thought to be an angel. 
 
385 
 
 " On the sixth day with a sigh he opened his eyes, re- 
 garded the vision steadily, and exclaimed, ' Matilda ! ' 
 
 " Later in the day he uttered the words, * Again, again ! ' 
 This was in reality a demand for more chicken broth, but 
 was supposed by the bystanders to be a demand for the 
 reappearance of his Matilda especially as he stretched 
 out his white and wasted hand as if to have it clasped in 
 hers." 
 
 I cannot go on any more. My feelings overpower me ; 
 but to speak plainly, Matilda is a nuisance in the sick-room. 
 Now I am getting used to Lady Ellesmere ; but if I were 
 to tell the honest truth, I should prefer being nursed by 
 Peter Robinson, my old clerk, to anybody in the world. 
 Peter does not mind one's fractiousness. Scold Peter ever 
 so much about the gruel, and he would only move up and 
 down his bushy eyebrows and wink at you, as much as to 
 say, " You are very tiresome ; but I don't mind it a bit." 
 Now Lady Ellesmere would go and cry Yes, my dear, 
 you know you would and would never recognise the fact 
 that an invalid is a tiresome, querulous, irritable, unreason- 
 able being. 
 
 No : as the hero of the novel, I take my stand upon this. 
 I will go to a picnic ; I will be tumbled out from a boat ; 
 I will be dispossessed of my property ; I will spring into 
 full success at one bound ; I will have a brain-fever ; but 
 I will not be nursed by the young woman that I keep 
 company with. Don't talk to me about Richard Swiveller 
 and the Marchioness. The Marchioness was accustomed 
 to squalidity and misery ; but my Matilda has been brought 
 up in the best circles, and I cannot be plagued with her in 
 a sick-room. 
 
 Johnson. I will be merciful, Sir John. You shall not be 
 plagued with Matilda when you have a brain-fever. 
 
 Ellesmere. I could go on throughout the whole evening, 
 cutting down the incidents which form the ordinary staple 
 of modern novel-writers. For example, I would insist that 
 when the novel-writer has brought eight or ten characters 
 upon the scene, he shall not contrive their movements in 
 such a way as that whether the hero or heroine remain 
 in England, or go to Australia, or to India, he or she 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 shall always find himself or herself surrounded by the same 
 people. 
 
 Now I have said enough, I think, to show that if I could 
 eliminate these foolish and unreasonable accidents and 
 incidents, we should have no more three-volume novels ; 
 and by the time I had lived through my eight hundred and 
 sixty-three years, all fiction would be so much like fact that 
 there would be no more occasion for any biographers or 
 historians ; and if that would not increase the happiness of 
 the world, I do not know what would. 
 
 But I have not done yet. I should devote myself greatly 
 to instructing the people in the arts of reading and writing. 
 In the course of 800 years I should persuade the English 
 to open their mouths, and speak plainly. This would be 
 a grand improvement. 
 
 Then, as to writing, I would insist upon everybody being 
 able to write clearly. I am "lost in astonishment," do 
 you know that phrase of Milverton's which he is so fond 
 of, and also that other one of " humanity shudders when it 
 contemplates?" Well, I am going to borrow them both 
 for the occasion. I say that I am " lost in astonishment" 
 at the audacity of people who write letters to me which I 
 cannot read. And "humanity shudders when it contem- 
 plates," or at least it ought to "shudder when it contem- 
 plates," how very badly, all over the world, it writes. It is 
 all the fault of that villain who invented a fine up-stroke. 
 
 There have been one or two sneers at my having men- 
 tioned only small matters. Did you hear that I meant to 
 put down the bores in the House of Commons ? Do you 
 call that a small thing ? Why, all the other things I should 
 accomplish in the first 300 years; and the remaining 500 
 I should devote to putting down bores and sending up 
 balloons. Not easy matters, either of them ; but still, I 
 believe, within the reach of human power. 
 
 Sir Arthur. You said something about reforming dress, 
 Ellesmere ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes ; the lion should have his mane again. 
 
 Cranmer. I haven't a conception what he means. 
 
 Ellesmere. Why, that the male creature should dress weii. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. But what about us ? 
 
 
yiv.] llcalnutlj. 385 
 
 Ellesmere. My dear Blanche, I should devote thirty solid 
 years to your improvement ; and, in the course of those 
 thirty years, I should institute two such great reforms in 
 your nature, that I should make you all both perfectly 
 lovable and perfectly lovely. 
 
 I should make each woman not to be afraid of all other 
 women. They are to fear us, and not their own sex con- 
 sequently a woman should not be ashamed of going out five 
 times following to parties in the same dress, if the dress 
 were becoming, and pleased her husband, her brother, or 
 her lover. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. The second great reform ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I should develop vanity amongst women 
 personal vanity which seems now to be so dead amongst 
 them. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I have always prided myself upon having 
 the greatest admiration for women, and never uttering any 
 foolish sneer against them ; but Sir John goes far beyond 
 me. I did imagine, I dare say without due thought/ that 
 they had vanity enough. 
 
 Ellesmere. No, no, Sir Arthur, you are quite mistaken. 
 Each woman sacrifices her own personal appearance to 
 the conceits of fashion whereas, when I had properly 
 developed every woman's personal vanity, she would 
 only think how she could dress herself in the manner 
 that would be most becoming to her. At present, they 
 are all sadly deficient in a care for their own especial 
 beauties. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. There is a great deal of truth in what 
 Sir John says. 
 
 Ellesmere. I believe there is, but I have yet a great deal 
 more to say. 
 
 I would make everything in the way of festivity shorter 
 and earlier. Balls should begin at eight o'clock in the 
 winter, and nine in the summer. Dinners should never 
 last more than two hours, concerts be abridged by one 
 hour. There should never be performed more than one 
 play at a time. As for evening parties, unless they are 
 very much improved in the course of these 900 years, I 
 shall abolish them altogether. 
 
 c c 
 
386 |iea;imajr. [CHAP. 
 
 At remote railway stations, I shall have lending libraries. 
 Is there anything more suicidal in its tendency than having 
 to wait at one of these stations for two mortal hours ? 
 
 Now I come to what I suppose you will call a great thing, 
 as if the things I have just proposed were little things ! I 
 shall do away with the adulteration of food and drugs. I 
 believe I could do that now, with my present term of life, if 
 I could only get one or two clever young members of Par- 
 liament to back me, and get up the facts, leaving me to see 
 how the matter could be dealt with legally. 
 
 Milverton. This is really good, Ellesmere. 
 
 Ellesmere. Now I don't take that as any compliment 
 just as if the other things were not good ! 
 
 Why, man ! do you suppose that there are not as many 
 lives injured or lost by ill-managed festivity as even by the 
 adulteration of food ? And recollect this, that I mean to 
 take care of the recreation of the poor, and not allow them 
 to bolt down their beer and their spirits without tempering 
 it with plenty of real recreation open air, music, dancing, 
 quoits, bowls, and cricket; and for quiet people, like Mil- 
 verton, dominoes, backgammon, and whist. 
 
 I shall set my face against hurry. 
 
 Lastly, I shall put down parentheses, snub fine writing 
 of all kinds, and make people say what they have to say in 
 clear, distinct sentences, with a proper nominative, verb, 
 and accusative ; and nobody shall use words of which he 
 does not understand the meaning ; consequently, the words 
 "objective" and "subjective" will be banished from the 
 language. 
 
 I have said my say. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I must sum up, for I have noted down the 
 gieat labours which Ellesmere purposes for himself in these 
 863 years. 
 
 You will observe that three-fourths of them have refer- 
 ence to getting rid of something tiresome, and indicate 
 the natural wishes of a man who, unhappily for himself in 
 this tiresome world, is easily bored. 
 
 He would abolish the penny post, disinvent the tele- 
 graph, silence bell-ringing, stop the growth of great cities, 
 Build a good house, reform dress (chiefly by making women 
 
3JLeaIma(f. 387 
 
 more vain), abolish lawyers and substitute notaries, reduce 
 armies 999 per 1000, send lecturers on practical subjects 
 throughout the country, put down bores in the House of 
 Commons and set up balloons, crush all jealousy, do away 
 with after-dinner speeches, reduce all three-volume novels to 
 one volume, make everybody write well, make everything in 
 the way of recreation shorter and earlier, prevent the adulte- 
 ration of food, provide lending libraries at remote stations, 
 set his face against hurry, and put down parentheses. 
 
 Goodly work, all of it ! Let us hope that he will make a 
 beginning of some of this work during his natural lifetime. 
 
 Ellesmere. One thing more ! My afterthoughts are, 
 perhaps, the best of my thoughts. I will have it declared, 
 absolutely and finally, that this nation does not undertake 
 to protect missionaries who go into distant countries with 
 which we have no settled diplomatic relations. 
 
 Great will be the joy of the Three per Cents, as Sydney 
 Smith would say, when I have brought the nation to this 
 most needful resolve. 
 
 More last words ! I have a brilliant idea. Indeed I am 
 as full of ideas as an egg is of meat. 
 
 I told you that I should make a small London for mili- 
 tary purposes, out of London on Wimbledon Common, I 
 think. Well, I shall remove most of the London statues to 
 that small town. If the enemy should be of an aesthetic 
 turn of mind, and should gain entrance into the town, they 
 will be so disgusted, horrified, and amazed by these statues 
 that they will fall an easy prey to our troops. On the other 
 hand, if they should survive the shock, and take the town, 
 they will carry off the statues as trophies taken from the 
 barbarians. At any rate, we shall get rid of the statues from 
 London proper. 
 
 Now, is it not desirable that I should have this long life, 
 which Milverton and Sandy are kind enough to arrange for 
 me, if only to effect this grand reform ? 
 
 I end with what I began with that Milady must not have 
 this length of life too. You know women are so perse- 
 vering, and so one idea'd. Men can be bored out of any- 
 thing. I do feel that if you gave her the same vitality as I 
 am to have, it would be Lady Ellesmere, and not Sir John, 
 C C 2 
 
388 |lea;Inmjr, [CHAP. 
 
 who would govern the world. And I leave you to guess 
 how it would then be governed. Eventually, she would put 
 down smoking, and take away from the male part of the 
 human race the chief element of consolation the one 
 thing which enables men to bear their troubles with an 
 equal mind. 
 
 Our conversation had now lasted so long that it 
 was getting towards evening, and the gong began to 
 sound for dressing. Mr. Mauleverer, who had hitherto 
 been silent, now burst out with the exclamation, 
 " Oh, what dinners we should have, if Sir John, could 
 rule us for eight hundred and sixty-three, years ! 
 What a pretty idea that was of his to send about the 
 country consummate cooks as lecturers. But hu- 
 manity, as I have always told you, is a poor creature. 
 And even in the greatest characters, Sir John's, for 
 instance, there are sad defects and shortcomings. 
 The remarks he made about edible fungi were those 
 of a man, comparatively speaking, small-minded, pre- 
 judiced, and ignorant/' 
 
 We all laughed at Mr. Mauleverer's enthusiasm, 
 and then separated to dress for dinner. 
 
xv.j DLealmafr. 389 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 I AM so anxious to get on with the story of Realmah 
 that I do not like to interrupt it by the account of 
 long conversations. I cannot help, however, giving a 
 part of a conversation which occurred when we assem- 
 bled together to hear a reading. Sir John Ellesmere 
 had been propounding one of his favourite maxims ; 
 namely, that all vice is but dulness. 
 
 Ellesmere. Not idleness, you know ; but dulness. How 
 often the word dull could advantageously be substituted for 
 wicked, or malicious, or cruel, or criminal ! Many a puffy, 
 fluffy sentence of historians might be most advantageously 
 abridged if they would but use the right words. I will give 
 an instance. 
 
 An historian of the Huns, a learned Hun, not known to 
 many people, but much studied by me, writes as follows of 
 Attila : " The great King's disposition, which, even in his 
 earliest years, could not have been accounted as humane 
 and forbearing as that of other Huns, was now exacerbated 
 by the impertinent and unwarrantable resistance which had 
 been opposed to his victorious and civilizing arms by the 
 inhabitants of Verona, Mantua, and Brescia: he felt' that 
 the power he had gained by unsparing vigour might be lost 
 by the exercise of a mercy that would have been considered 
 weakness : religious controversy, in the course of which a 
 fanatic Christian had dared to suggest that the great King 
 was the scourge of God, had not sweetened his temper, or 
 soothed his suspiciousness : moreover, the number of his 
 prisoners embarrassed and delayed his progress ; and ac- 
 cordingly Attila resolved to put them all to the sword." 
 
 Now, I should merely say, Attila was dull that day ; and, 
 wanting something to amuse him, ordered a general sla'igh- 
 ter of the prisoners. 
 
390 gjalmafjf. [CHAP. 
 
 Sir Arthur. What an historian is lost to the world in 
 this great lawyer ! But what is your remedy, Ellesmere, for 
 dulness ? 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, inducing men to take an interest in what 
 you would call little things \ in cultivating all manner of 
 small pursuits that is, if they cannot be persuaded to take 
 up great ones. A man who loves his garden, and works in 
 it, is sure to be a less dull, and therefore a better man, than 
 other men who have no 'such pursuit. This is a very com- 
 monplace remark ; but it is true. 
 
 Milverton. I quite agree with you. 
 
 Ellesmere. I don't believe that any of you see the full 
 force of what I mean. Calumny, ill-nature, malice all 
 the minor vices, which, however, give so much pain to the 
 \vorld, are merely functions, to use a mathematical phrase, 
 of dulness. 
 
 Now, suppose I were to die suddenly. I might easily do 
 so of irritable over-yawning some day in the House of 
 
 Commons, or at the Bar. In the case, that fellow 
 
 Wordall spoke consecutively for three days his speech in 
 all exceeding fourteen hours, when it might easily have 
 been made in one and a half. I had to listen, because I 
 had to reply to the fellow, and I declare to you I might 
 have expired then and there, from suppressed irritability. 
 
 Well, I die. Now I do believe I am not an unpopular 
 fellow, and that a good many men rather like me than not ; 
 but their first feeling would be of satisfaction at something 
 having happened that interested them, that they could go 
 home and tell their wives : " My dear, such a sad thing has 
 happened; Sir John Ellesmere is dead and suddenly. 
 You've heard of him, of course ? He was Leonard Milver- 
 ton's great friend A much cleverer fellow, by the way, as 
 people, who knew them both, have often told me ! There 
 was always some good saying of his floating about the 
 world. He was the man who said that the greatest hum- 
 bug of all humbugs is the pretending to despise humbugs." 
 
 " Poor fellow, 1 am afraid he had a sad time of it with 
 Milady ! You have only to look at her face to see that she 
 has a temper of her own. A nez does not become retrousse 
 by internal angelic influences." (Don't hit me, Lady Elles-, 
 
xv.j |Ualma{r, 39 1 
 
 mere. Milverton, you should protect your guests against 
 battery and assault.) 
 
 Now this heartlessness about my death ; this just but 
 depreciatory view of poor Milverton ; this painful truth- 
 fulness about poor Lady Ellesmere, all of it is the result, 
 not of ill-nature, but of dulness. Dulness it is that creates 
 the momentary unkindness. The same thing with calumny; 
 people calumniate because they are dull ; in nine times out 
 of ten they do not mean any harm ! 
 
 Sir Arthur. Moralist as well as historian ! We shall 
 never come to the end of Ellesmere's powers. But what 
 pursuit have you got, Sir John, which always prevents you 
 from being dull, and therefore malicious ? 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Why, don't you know, Sir Arthur? 
 Perhaps, though, you thought the other day, when my 
 amiable husband talked about setting up balloons, he was 
 joking. Would that it were so ! There is a back room in 
 our house in town, where knocking and hammering, and 
 screwing and pasting, and warming and cooling, and gas- 
 burning, are constantly going on. He and his clerk for 
 they are both bitten with the same mania shut themselves 
 up in that room for hours ; and it is as much as my place 
 is worth to disturb them. Sometimes, when things are 
 going well with them, I am kept awake through the small 
 hours of the night to hear all about the machine, which is 
 to combine lightness with strength and with power, and is 
 to enable us all to be aeronauts. Truth, not dulness, com- 
 pels me to say that my husband has all other demerits 
 known in the human character but that of dulness that is, 
 dulness for himself, because he can make other people dull 
 by being so eminently disagreeable. 
 
 Sir ArtJiur. I think you are paid off, Ellesmere, for 
 what you have made your friends say about Lady Elles- 
 mere; but if we once get into recriminations of this 
 kind, we shall never have the reading : so please, Milverton, 
 begin. 
 
 Ellesmere. Stay a bit. I must say more. I want to show 
 you how benevolent my view of dulness makes rne. When 
 I hear that any man has been speaking ill of me behind 
 my back, I am not angry with him, but I merely say to 
 
39 2 |vcalmalj, [CHAP. 
 
 myself, " How dull he must have been to have had nothing 
 better to do !" I long to address to him an oration in the 
 form of a single sentence, the outlines of which I have 
 often imagined, and talked over to myself. The gracious 
 Milverton was good enough, as you will perhaps remember, 
 to tell me, patronisingly, that some sentence I uttered some 
 time ago was not so bad. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Take breathing time, John. I wonder, 
 by the way, whether ears can take hearing time ; for, if so, 
 we must all prepare for John's oration, which is to be 
 compressed into one grand, full (perhaps we may say over- 
 flowing) sentence. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes, my dear, prepare ; for it is always a 
 difficult thing for a woman to listen for any time to any- 
 thing that is well worth hearing. 
 
 I should take my dull maligner aside (probably it would 
 be in Westminster Hall), tell him I had heard what he had 
 said of me prove to him that it was not ray demerit, but 
 his dulness, which had caused him to speak in that manner 
 of me ; and should then address him thus : 
 
 " What, dull ! when you do not know what gives its 
 loveliness of form to the lily, its depth of colour to the 
 violet, its fragrance to the rose ; when you do not 
 know in what consists the venom of the adder any more 
 than you can imitate the glad movements of the dove ; 
 when, unlike the wisest of monarchs and of men, far from 
 knowing trees as he did, 'from the cedar tree that is in 
 Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the 
 wall/ you do not know anything even of the two extremes 
 of Solomon's great knowledge in this behalf; and when 
 even these crushed syringa 1 leaves might form a subject for 
 you to investigate, which, for the remainder of your natural 
 life, should save you from dulness : what, dull ! when the 
 all-pervading forces and powers of chemistry are unknown 
 to you ; when light, heat, electricity, are mere words to you, 
 
 1 Lady Ellesmere afterwards told us that Sir John was passionately 
 fond of the syringa, and that she had made an arrangement for a 
 gardener who comes to Covent Garden to supply her with flowers and 
 leaves from this shrub, which, as she said, she sometimes gave her 
 husband when he was good. 
 
XV.] 
 
 clad with no more ideas for you than they are for that 
 boy who is whistling as he goes along, unmindful, nay 
 unconscious, of the beauty and grandeur of this glorious 
 building : what, dull ! when earth, air, and water are all 
 alike mysteries to you ; and when, as you stretch out your 
 hand, you do not touch anything the properties of which 
 you have mastered ; while, all the time, Nature is inviting 
 you to talk earnestly with her, to understand her, to subdue 
 her, and to be blessed by her : what, dull ! when you have 
 not travelled to the ends of the earth, and have not seen 
 what your forefathers, the mighty men of old some of 
 whom were not dull men have formed, and built, and 
 restrained, and vanquished : what, dull ! when you have 
 travelled over so few minds, and have not read the hundred 
 great books of the world for there have been at least a 
 hundred books written by men who were not dull, and 
 whose works fulfil the words of Samson, when he went 
 down to Timnath to take a wife from among the Philistines, 
 and found that which, as he said, combined leonine strength 
 with honied sweetness : what, dull ! when you know no- 
 thing of the niceties of theology, the subtleties of meta- 
 physics, the closeness of logic, the completeness of mathe- 
 matics, the intricacies, and withal the beauties, of juris- 
 prudence and of law: dull, you say; and you know 
 nothing, comparatively nothing, of the long, finely-woven 
 chain-work of history, telling you, as best it can, of the 
 innumerable tribes of men who have fought and bled 
 sinned, suffered, and rejoiced even as we are now doing, 
 in these which are rashly denominated the later ages : 
 what, dull ! when Art divine, whether expressed in painting, 
 in sculpture, or in architecture, is a thing which, even when 
 you admire it, you ignorantly gaze at, as the heathens at 
 Athens ignorantly worshipped their ' Unknown God ;' 
 what, dull ! when there are thousands, nay millions of 
 human beings, at least as worthy as yourself (ay, and poor 
 animals too ; for God only knows how much they need 
 care, and what a burden lies upon our souls for our con- 
 duct to them), some of whom might be aided, cheered, 
 improved, invigorated, soothed, by the smallest deed or 
 word of sympathy on your part. Go away, man; learn 
 
394 *ama [CHAP. 
 
 something, do something, understand something; and let 
 me hear no more of your dulness condensing itself into 
 malignity." 
 
 Sir Arthur. I think I see the poor man dazed and 
 amazed by Ellesmere's torrent of grand words, and passing 
 the remainder of his life, not in the expression of dull 
 malignity, but in the vain endeavour to recall Ellesmere's 
 sentence. By the way, is it not droll to see that he brought 
 in, unconsciously, one or two legal phrases, such as, " in this 
 behalf" "Solomon's knowledge in this behalf?" 
 
 Mauleverer. It was a full and gorgeous sentence. Elles- 
 mere would be a grand fellow if he were not so disagreeable 
 sometimes. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. When ? How ? Where ? Never to 
 anybody, Mr. Mauleverer, but to me ; and he has a right 
 to be so to me, if he please. 
 
 Milverton. Don't be angry, Mildred. Mauleverer only 
 said that to tease you ; and, as the vulgar say, to get " a 
 rise" out of you. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. I am much obliged to him, I am sure. 
 
 Ellesmere. Now then, Milverton, you may proceed. 
 After a great effort of mind, one can never stoop to answer 
 small criticisms. 
 
 Milverton. I will proceed : but after one of these grand 
 flights of Ellesmere's, which occur about two or three times 
 a year, I really am ashamed to read to you my poor, slow, 
 dull, creeping, crawling sentences. 
 
 [The reading was then continued.] 
 
 Stew 0f 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE SHAM FIGHT. 
 
 IN the embroidered language of the Sheviri (and all 
 people in the beginning of their education are fond of 
 this embroidery), a hundred times since the last day 
 
395 
 
 of the siege had the celestial maiden who adorns the 
 heavens grown up from delicate childhood to the full 
 beauty of womanhood, when we are again called to 
 look upon the town of Abibah. 
 
 Very different was it from that town as it might 
 have been beheld on the day succeeding the siege. 
 It had greatly increased both in size and beauty. Its 
 new foundations had been made much more substan- 
 tial ; and the buildings placed upon them were of a 
 much more enduring character than those which had 
 been consumed in the great fire. That part of the 
 town, however, which had not suffered from fire 
 remained unaltered, and Realmah still continued to 
 occupy his palace in that quarter. 
 
 Most men hate details, and it is a delightful thing 
 for the historian and the novelist, as well as for their 
 readers, that they can judiciously pass over details ; 
 and, as in dramatic writing, bring a fresh scene before 
 you without tiresome explanations as to what had 
 occurred in the interval between that scene and the 
 previous one commemorated. 
 
 It was early on a beautiful morning that Realmah 
 came forth from his palace, accompanied by many 
 courtiers and attendants. He was much altered in 
 appearance. He walked with greater difficulty, and 
 his face was deeply marked with the long furrows 
 ploughed in by that sedulous husbandman, Care. He 
 was more richly dressed than he had formerly been, 
 but the old habit of carelessness was still strong upon 
 him, so that his clothes seemed to be huddled on 
 anyhow. 
 
 As he descended the steps of the palace, he 
 tripped and nearly fell, whereupon a courtier, who 
 though a courtier knew but little of human 
 nature, rushed forward to assist the King; which 
 assistance Realmah waved away with a gesture of 
 petulance, for great people do not like to be thought 
 
396 |UaIma|r, [CHAP. 
 
 failing in strength, and do not approve of being 
 publicly assisted. 
 
 Joy and excitement sat upon the faces of all the 
 people of Abibah that morning on all, at least, but 
 that of the King ; and he seemed not unhappy, but 
 only anxious. 
 
 A large historical work might be written to com- 
 memorate the proceedings of Realmah during these 
 waxings and wanings of the celestial goddess by 
 whose movements they chiefly measured time. There 
 is, however, so much material for history in the world, 
 that there are long periods abounding in great trans- 
 actions which are obliged to be chronicled in a few 
 sentences ; and every day the need for compression 
 in historical narrative becomes greater. 
 
 This day was the day of the year on which a 
 festival was held to commemorate the last day of the 
 siege, when the greater part of the city was consumed 
 by fire, and when the men of the North were driven 
 away. 
 
 Hitherto this festival had been celebrated in a 
 commonplace way by games, feasts, and illumi- 
 nations ; but to-day a much more striking mode of 
 commemorating the great event was to be adopted. 
 The scene was to be acted over again, without, of 
 course, the accompaniment of fire ; but there were to 
 be parties of besieged and besiegers ; in short, a 
 mock fight. The King had with great difficulty 
 been induced to give his consent to this mode of 
 celebration. 
 
 He had been inclined to remind his people of a 
 very ancient proverb which had much meaning in it, 
 and ran thus, " In the games there are no two sons of 
 the same mother" intimating that even in playful con- 
 test all the ties of brotherhood are forgotten. The 
 King, however, restrained himself from saying this, by- 
 thinking of another proverb, " Why tell him that his 
 
xv.] jeamaj. 397 
 
 two eyes look two different ways ? " meaning, it is no 
 good telling people of evils which they cannot cure. 1 
 
 Still, Realmah did not like the idea of this mimic 
 fight, and was not by any means sure that it would 
 not lead to serious consequences ; the more so as he 
 had detected some unwillingness to serve in those 
 young men to whom it had fallen by lot to play the 
 part of the besiegers. However, they all looked very 
 happy on this bright morning, for the spirits of people 
 are always raised when they put on their best clothes. 
 
 Iron weapons had been brought to a great state of 
 perfection, but these were not allowed to be used on 
 the present occasion, except by the King's guard, who 
 were not to take any part in the action. 
 
 During the earlier part of the day everything went 
 well ; but, after some hours of struggle, men's tempers 
 began to be irritated ; and what annoyed the besiegers 
 greatly was the part which the women took in the 
 fight, both in jeering at them, and also in throwing 
 down upon them glutinous masses made from the 
 gums of trees, which caused very severe contusions. 
 
 It was in the new market-place that the sham fight 
 raged most furiously. The time came when the 
 leaders of the besieging force were to give the signals 
 for retreat ; but some of them, especially the younger 
 ones, refrained from giving the appointed signals, and 
 the common soldiers were so excited that those orders 
 which were given by the older officers were not 
 attended to. In short, the fight at this point became 
 a real one. 
 
 Realmah, wearied with the day's proceedings, and 
 seeing that, as far as he had observed, nothing unplea- 
 
 i Though the best proverbs are common to all nations, we find some- 
 thing peculiar in the proverbs of each nation. For instance, this was 
 a favourite proverb of the Sheviri which I do not remember to have 
 seen elsewhere "Do not turn round sharply lest you catch them 
 laughing at you." 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 sant had occurred, had retired to his palace, when 
 news was brought. to him that the worst he had anti- 
 cipated was occurring. 
 
 Hastily summoning his guards, he rushed to the 
 market-place and into the thickest of the fray. Before 
 the combatants were thoroughly aware of his presence, 
 he had received two wounds, one in the arm and one 
 in the thigh ; and several people were either slain or 
 much injured by the royal guards in their endeavour 
 to protect the fallen King. 
 
 At last the tumult was allayed, and Realmah was 
 carried back on a litter to his palace. 
 
 For some time he was insensible, for he was a 
 man very sensitive to the effects of pain ; but, to the 
 astonishment of theVarnah and of all the bystanders, 
 when the medicine-men had dressed his wounds, he 
 burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, and was 
 heard to mutter to himself many times, " There never 
 was anything so fortunate." 
 
 Throughout the city that evening it was generally 
 reported and believed that the King was delirious. 
 The shame and vexation of the men of Abibah were 
 unutterable ; as also their fears, for they feared that 
 they would never be forgiven by their King. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 REALMAH'S GREAT PROJECT. 
 
 THEY erred, indeed, who thought that the words of 
 the King, which had expressed his joy, and declared 
 his good fortune, in having been wounded, were the 
 words of delirium. Never had Realmah been more 
 sane than when, with laughter, he had uttered those 
 words ; for he saw in that occurrence an additional 
 
xv.] amay. 399 
 
 means of carrying into action a project which, from 
 his earliest years, had been very near to his heart. 
 
 He was one of those men who, even when not 
 gifted with genius, or with manifold talents, yet have 
 their way in the world, simply because they never 
 become tired of their projects. 
 
 What chance have ordinary men against such men 
 as these? The ordinary man, after he has said his 
 say a few times, begins to be tired of that saying. If 
 he is a person of any refinement, he becomes ashamed 
 of so much repetition. He seeks to clothe his idea, 
 even if he maintains it, in new words ; and at last, 
 perhaps, he varies, not only the expression, but the 
 substance of his idea. Now, the world of thought is 
 a thing which requires to be penetrated by con- 
 stant hammering in the same place. What would 
 be thought of the woodman who became tired or 
 ashamed of driving his axe into the one cutting 
 which he had begun to make in the tree ? It would 
 be a long time before that tree would be felled, if it 
 had only such an inconstant woodman to attack it. 
 
 In a neighbouring territory, belonging to a people 
 called the Azarees, there was a narrow strip of land 
 which was occupied by a fortress belonging to the 
 Sheviri. Some generations past, the Sheviri had con- 
 quered the Azarees ; and, after the conquest, had 
 held this strip of land, and built this fortress, as a 
 means of keeping the Azarees in a kind of subjec- 
 tion, and also of controlling all the tribes on the 
 lake which had to pass that way, as it was in the 
 nature of a defile which had to be passed by many 
 peoples. 
 
 From his earliest years, bred up in government 
 in the house of his uncle, Realmah had been much 
 accustomed to listen to the talk of statesmen and 
 ambassadors. The silent, reserved boy had heard the 
 old statesmen of his nation gloat over the fact that 
 
4 Ualma, [CHAP. 
 
 this fortress was a thorn in the side of all their 
 enemies, and even of their allies. He had also 
 noticed what a bitter subject of complaint the existence 
 of this fortress had often been with the ambassadors 
 :from foreign tribes. Without daring to breathe a word 
 of what he thought, the studious boy had come to a 
 conclusion totally different from his elders, and had 
 even, at the age of fourteen, resolved, that if ever he 
 should come to power, he would win the hearts of 
 all the nations of the lake by abolishing, in time of 
 peace, this obnoxious fortress. 
 
 He had come to power ; and the resolve of his boy- 
 hood was as much fixed in his mind as ever. With 
 that patient sagacity, however, which was so striking 
 a part of his character, he waited for some time 
 before he even dared to broach to his wise favourite, 
 the court jester, the strange idea which beset him. 
 Not from the jester even, not from any of his most 
 intimate friends, did he at first win a single word of 
 encouragement for his great project. They had not 
 in their vocabulary the word " romantic," or they would 
 have used it ; but they had the word " starlight," which 
 they used in the same sense as we use moonshine, 
 signifying something which is unreal, which pretends 
 to be warm, and is not. There was not a soul to 
 whom Realmah at first confided his great project 
 who did not intimate to him that his idea was 
 starlight. Even the Ainah, to whom he told it first, 
 had but said in answer, " If all men were like my 
 Realmah, it would be well to be so generous ; but 
 there are none like him." And Realmah sighed, for 
 the fondness of her words did not console him for 
 the absence of her sympathy with him in this his 
 dearest project. 
 
 The way in which his proposition was received by 
 three or four of his principal councillors may well 
 illustrate the difficulties with which Realmah had to 
 
401 
 
 contend. When he did at last broach the matter to 
 the court jester, that great functionary, as was natural, 
 conveyed his views chiefly by means of a fable. 
 
 He said that of course the great king, who was not 
 only the greatest but the most learned man in his 
 dominions, must know the old fable about " the good- 
 natured Otlocol." 
 
 " That magnificent but fearful creature, the Otlocol, 
 was wont in former days to hold long conversations 
 with mankind ; and the particular Otlocol in question 
 would often walk about the ancient streets of Abibah. 
 
 "One day a friend of his, a man, said, 'My good 
 Otlocol, why do you take such trouble in getting 
 your food, being up all night sometimes, as I hear, 
 to hunt after the poor reindeer ? l If you would but 
 allow me just to break off the ends of those two 
 formidable teeth of yours, and pare your front claws 
 a little, everybody would be delighted to partake 
 their food with you. But now, good-natured as you 
 are, people are a little afraid of you. Then, even the 
 little children would share their crusts with you.' 
 
 " The good-natured Otlocol, always ready to believe 
 what his friends told him, consented. The teeth were 
 broken, and the nails were pared, by his kind friend. 
 But somehow or other, from that day forth, the 
 Otlocol grew thinner and thinner. He did not, after 
 all, find so many people ready to share their bones 
 and their crusts with him. He was no longer interest- 
 ing, now that he could not do anybody any harm ; 
 and, in the end, the poor animal died of starvation. 
 
 " That is all your poor jester has to say, my prince, 
 to your magnanimous proposal." 
 
 The next person that Realmah tried was Llama- 
 Mah. That courtier was dismayed. He had never 
 
 1 The reindeer in those times came as far south as the Swiss lakes, 
 as may be seen from the bones that have been exhumed from the 
 bottom of those lakes 
 
 D D 
 
CHAP. 
 
 yet disagreed with the King ; but there are bounds 
 to everything, and even Llama- Mah could not give 
 his approbation to the surrender of this fortress. But 
 though he could not assent, he could flatter ; and, 
 after a few minutes' silence, he said to Realmah : 
 "The King is always wise and judicious ; but I have 
 observed sometimes that his wisdom takes a higher 
 flight upon the second discussion of any great subject 
 than that which it did on the first" 
 
 Realmah knew full well what a decided negative 
 was most unwillingly conveyed by Llama-Mah in 
 these flattering words. 
 
 Not daunted, however, he resolved to lay the 
 question before Lariska. Here there was not so 
 fatal and immediate a negative, for Lariska was 
 always delighted to discuss anything; but he had 
 so many ingenious things to say against the pro- 
 position, as well as some few things for it, that 
 Realmah felt more disheartened by his discourse 
 than by that of either of the others. 
 
 The next day the King broached the matter to 
 Londardo. Now, as we know, Londardo was one 
 of those men who think that the reasons for, or 
 against, anything, are about equal, and that the main 
 object in this world's affairs is to adopt some course, 
 and to keep consistently to that. After listening 
 carefully to Realmah's explanation of his project, 
 Londardo looked very grave ; and, to Realmah's 
 astonishment, asked for two days' delay before he 
 should say anything at all about the matter. 
 
 When those two days had elapsed, Londardo waited 
 upon the King. Without any preamble he said, " It 
 is a great idea, and I should be for its adoption if 
 only we could, from this moment, act consistently 
 with the continuous generosity that such a plan 
 demands. It will not do to be conquering here, and 
 giving up the results of conquest there. For example, 
 
xv.] llciilnuijj. 403 
 
 you had thought of punishing the disobedience of the 
 Malquas that must be abandoned, and you must 
 give them the option of refusing all allegiance to you. 
 From all quarters there must come, at the same time, 
 reports of your generosity and of your unwillingness 
 to place a yoke upon any new tributaries. 
 
 "Public affairs differ from private affairs only in large- 
 ness; and, if you observe, the effect of great forbear- 
 ance and generosity in dealing with private individuals, 
 breaks down solely because you do not go far enough. 
 You keep up some restriction, or maintain some advan- 
 tage ; and, in doing this, you retain as much odium as 
 if you had maintained all your advantages, and kept 
 up all your restrictions. I will vote as you wish me 
 in the council, provided you will, from that time, be 
 consistent in a course of complete generosity." 
 
 This conversation took place in the early days of 
 Realmah's reign. Londardo, as we have seen, was 
 slain by the Northmen ; and bitterly did the King 
 mourn over the loss of such a counsellor especially 
 in regard to this great project. 
 
 It is not needful to give in detail the constant efforts 
 made, both in council and out of council, by Realmah 
 to win over his chief friends and councillors. Suffice it 
 to say, however, that gradually he did win them over. 
 
 I do not think he would have been able to do so, 
 but that this project of abandoning the fortress called 
 Ravala-Mamee was consistent with the rest of Real- 
 mah's policy, which had proved eminently successful. 
 The older councillors were astounded when they found 
 that embassies came to Realmah, absolutely offering 
 him a kind of suzerainty over nations that had hitherto 
 been in no manner whatever connected with the Sheviri. 
 
 These councillors began to see that there really is 
 
 such a thing as the power of love, as well as the power 
 
 of hatred. Oh, if Realmah had but been blessed 
 
 with such a religion as Christianity in his time, what 
 
 D D 2 
 
404 Scainmb. [CHAP. 
 
 a difference there might have been in the aspect of 
 the world ! 
 
 The councillors had been at last convinced of the 
 wisdom of Realmah's policy, but they dreaded its 
 being put forth to the people. Year after year they 
 had persuaded the King to postpone the announce- 
 ment of his intentions, always using the common 
 phrase of statesmen in all ages and in all nations, 
 that the time was not ripe for it ; as if the time were 
 ever ripe for the utterances of a great man as if he 
 did not create the time ! 
 
 It may appear surprising to the hearers of this tale 
 that these secret conferences of Realmah with his 
 friends and his councillors on this important subject, 
 lasting as these conferences did for so many years, 
 never became known to his people, nor even to the 
 inhabitants of Abibah. This fact was in direct con- 
 tradiction to a celebrated proverb, or rather trilogy 
 of proverbs, said to have been made by the King 
 himself. 
 
 It is this The dragon-fly told the bee a secret: the 
 whole hive of bees knew it that evening. 
 
 The dragon-fly told another dragon-fly the secret: 
 for three whole days it remained a secret. 
 
 The dragon-fly told the lark the secret: the lark 
 soared up to heaven and did not think much of the 
 dragon-flys secret : the other larks never knew it. 
 
 This proverb, naturally a kingly one, meant : 
 " Trust equals a little : inferiors not at all : superiors 
 (that is, me the King) thoroughly." 
 
 Now, Realmah had not been betrayed by these 
 inferiors to whom he had trusted the great secret. 
 But the reason why it had never been betrayed was 
 evidently this that each man who knew it, feared 
 that he might be considered by the common people 
 as a traitor to his country, if he knew of such a 
 project, and had not at once put his veto upon it. 
 
405 
 
 It was as if, in the times of Louis XIII. of France, 
 a man should have been known to have had corre- 
 spondence with the Court of Spain. 
 
 This will show the dangers and the difficulties 
 which Realmah had to encounter in the execution 
 of this great design. In truth, for the last twenty 
 years he had maintained this project at the risk of 
 his throne, and even of his life. 
 
 Milverton. I do not think that I am especially timid or 
 nervous on ordinary occasions of speaking or talking. I 
 feel what I suppose all people feel when they have to make a 
 speech. One's heart beats a little faster for a few minutes 
 before the time, and one feels that, on this particular occa- 
 sion, one is sure to make a failure of it. But when I have 
 got through my first sentence, and have looked into the 
 eyes of my audience, I am seldom troubled by any further 
 embarrassment. 
 
 So, in talking ; I never feel nervous or uncomfortable, 
 except when I have to explain something, or to argue about 
 something, that will require a certain portion of time to be 
 given to it, and which time I know my auditors will not, 
 or cannot give. One becomes very nervous then. 
 
 Cranmer. That is a very frequent case. I have often 
 felt it myself. 
 
 Ellesmere. Probably ; but proceed, Milverton, with what 
 you were going to say. 
 
 Milverton. Well, I was going to say that to-day I am in 
 a permanent state of nervousness, which has almost hitherto 
 been unknown to me. 
 
 I feel that you are to a certain extent representative men. 
 If I fail in persuading any of you, I know that I have no 
 chance with the world in general. 
 
 Of course, you see what I have been aiming at, and why 
 I have written the story of Realmah. I do not care at all 
 about your saying that mine has been an inartistic mode of 
 proceeding namely, the writing of a story with a purpose. 
 It is my way of doing the thing, and you must bear with it 
 
4o6 jSUalmalT. [CHAP. 
 
 At any rate you must own, that I have followed Goethe's 
 great maxim of not talking away my interest in the subject. 
 You have never heard me speak about it, and yet it has 
 been in my mind for years. 
 
 Ellesmere. What a restraint the man must have put upon 
 himself ! It is just what my favourites, the dogs, do. They 
 could talk well enough about the subjects nearest to their 
 hearts, but they have read their Carlyle, and they know 
 that stern purpose is gradually frittered away by idle talk. 
 
 Milverton. Now I want to discuss the matter most care- 
 fully with you ; and you must allow me to commence the 
 discussion. I should wish to divide my subject into live 
 heads. 
 
 Ellesmere. Good heavens ! this is becoming serious. I 
 should like to tell you my experience about a sermon that 
 was divided into five heads. 
 
 Milverton. Now, don't joke, Ellesmere. 
 
 Ellesmere. Sir Oliver Roundhead come again ! who never 
 laughed himself, nor ever permitted any of his family to 
 laugh. But, indeed, I will be a thoroughly good boy, and 
 as serious as the men who sell fish about the streets, for I 
 have observed they never joke with their customers. 
 
 Milverton. (i) The diminution of expense. And to this 
 branch of the subject I especially invite Mr. Cranmer's 
 attention, reminding him of Tennyson's words, 
 
 " And that eternal want of pence 
 Which vexes public men ; " 
 
 which I know vexes him and Mr. Gladstone, and sundry 
 other great financial authorities. 
 
 You, Sir Arthur, who love the works of the great Greek 
 tragedians, will recollect that passage in the " Prometheus 
 vinctus," in which Prometheus is exhorted to cease from 
 his philanthropic ways. I have often thought how that 
 applies to modern times. If Governments will indulge in 
 philanthropic ways, they must be prepared, for constantly 
 increasing expense in this direction. For instance, if we 
 are to go on taking care of the health and sanitary con- 
 ditions of the people, the expenses of our Medical Depart- 
 ment must go on increasing. 
 
xv.j ilculmalj. 407 
 
 If we are to go on educating the people, the expenses of 
 the Education Department must inevitably increase. 
 
 If we are tc go on cultivating art and science amongst 
 our people, the expenses of the Art and Science Depart- 
 ment must also increase. 
 
 If we are to go on caring for the recreation of the people, 
 there will be increased expense in this direction. 
 
 And, taking the Civil Service generally, considering that, 
 under the new order of things, it will be required to be 
 strengthened and added to, rather than to be reduced, and 
 that of all men in this country, excepting country surgeons, 
 the public servants are the worst paid, I do not see how we 
 can hope for any reduction of expenditure under the heads 
 I have just enumerated. 
 
 I stop here for the moment, and wish to know what Sir 
 Arthur and Mr. Cranmer will say. 
 
 Sir Arthur. You are quite right, Milverton ; these philan- 
 thropic ways must not cease. 
 
 Cranmer. And I have no hope of reducing the Civil 
 Service estimates. That excellent man, Joseph Hume, did 
 not look for much economy in that direction. 
 
 Milverton. Very good. Where, then, must we look for 
 it? I answer, mainly in the naval, military, and colonial 
 departments. 
 
 Ellesmere. Of course we all know that. So far the Court 
 is with you. 
 
 Milverton. Now, I say that the way in which the expenses 
 in those departments are to be reduced, is not by diminish- 
 ing expense over the- whole surface generally, and so producing 
 general weakness everywhere, but by totally doing away with 
 the ?iecd for expense at certain fixed poi?its. 
 
 The above I hold to be a great maxim, applicable alike 
 in private and in public affairs. Don't stint your wife and 
 your children, and your servants and your horses, but do 
 away with the carriage and horses at once, if you really 
 cannot afford to keep it handsomely. Of course you see 
 how I mean to apply this. The wisest political move in our 
 time was the cession of the Ionian Islands. What was the 
 expense to us annually, Cranmer, of the Ionian Islands? 
 Cranmer. Say 5<D,ooo/. 
 
$lcalma{r. [CHAP. 
 
 Milverton. May I ask you, Cranmer, what has been the 
 expense to us of fortifying Alderney? 
 
 Cranmer. About i,i77,ooo/. 
 
 Milverton. What about Bermuda ? 
 
 Cranmer. The cost incurred by Imperial Funds for the 
 defence of Bermuda, in 1859-60, was, if I remember rightly, 
 about 87,0007. 
 
 Milverton. And Gibraltar? 
 
 Cranmer. About 420,0007. for that year; and I do not 
 think that was a heavy year. 
 
 Milverton. For the present I drop the question of ex- 
 pense. You are men of that degree of intelligence and 
 knowledge of the world, that one need not bother you with 
 details, and need only indicate to you a course of argument. 
 
 I am now going to the second branch of my subject. 
 
 (2) The increase of prestige. Mark you, I have not con- 
 fined myself to any particular case. I do not choose to 
 tell you whether Realmah's fortress of Ravala-Mamee 
 means Gibraltar, or Malta, or Bermuda. I argue the case 
 generally; and I say that that nation will gain greatly in 
 prestige which first dares to do some great act of renun- 
 ciation of the kind that I have intimated. Am I right 
 in this ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. I am with you. 
 
 Cranmer. I doubt. 
 
 Mauleverer. Dreams ! Moonshine ! Starlight ! 
 
 Ellesmere. I should like the question to be more specific. 
 The peculiar circumstances of the case would much affect 
 my opinion. 
 
 Milverton. Well, then, I will be more specific. Suppose 
 that we possess a fortress naturally belonging to another 
 great nation, which nation this fortress menaces, discourages, 
 and mortifies ; and suppose that this great nation is one 
 which is never likely to come into direct hostility with our- 
 selves, and the amity of which great nation we should 
 probably win by such an act of renunciation, what should 
 you say then ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I should say that it would be a grand thing 
 to do; but I should wish to know whether this fortress 
 might not be one which it would be important for us to 
 
xv.] camaj. 409 
 
 hold in reference to our own military and naval movements, 
 and our possible hostility with other States. I think that is 
 rather an ugly question, Master Milverton. 
 
 Milverton. It is ; but I shall be prepared to answer it in 
 its proper place. I beg you to keep to the point, and to 
 answer me, whether there would be any loss of prestige in 
 such an act of renunciation as I propose ? 
 
 Ellesmere. No, there would not. Prestige is never lost 
 by anything which indicates fearlessness 
 
 Sir Arthur. And magnanimity. 
 
 Ellesmere. A thing may be very unwise, and yet not 
 cause you to lose prestige. 
 
 Milverton. Very good. I now come to the third branch 
 of the subject. 
 
 (3) Safety for the State. That safety, you may be sure, 
 in the present condition of the means and appliances for 
 warfare, depends upon the concentration of the powers and 
 forces of the State. 
 
 The more you extend the line of possible attack by the 
 enemy, the more you render yourself liable to be defeated 
 at some point, which, though unimportant in itself, as a 
 place to be guarded, is for the moment all-important to 
 you, as being a part of your empire which you are bound to 
 defend. A great empire cannot bear defeat anywhere. I 
 might bring a host of metaphors and similes to illustrate 
 this assertion, but every-day facts will perhaps do so better. 
 You have to take the same care of some obscure British 
 subject, if that man is unduly molested, as you have of 
 your whole Indian dominions. What have you to say to 
 this branch of the subject ? 
 
 Cranmer. I am with you. 
 
 Sir Arthur. So am I. 
 
 Milverton. The rest, I perceive, are silent. 
 
 Ellesmere. I do not like pledging myself. You see he is 
 gradually getting us into his net. He has nearly gained 
 an assent to three of his propositions, and I do not see what 
 we may be led to. We must beware of letting ourselves 
 be treated as the characters are in an imaginary dialogue. 
 You have your Euphranor and Lycidas and Polyphrastes. 
 Euphranor really represents the author, and the other fellows 
 
410 amaj, [CHAP 
 
 his opponents. Lycidas and Polyphrastes seem at first to 
 come out very grandly and boldly; but anybody who is 
 experienced in such writing easily discerns that the buttons 
 are on their foils, while Euphranor's weapon is unguarded. 
 I decline to be Polyphrastes, 
 
 I tell you what these unhappy characters always remind 
 me of the performing monkeys of a showman : the poor 
 little creatures hop about gaily enough, but if, springing to 
 the end of their tether, they struggle to get beyond it, the 
 hard-featured showman jerks them back again, and makes 
 them know their proper place, close to his barrel-organ. 
 They are only to dance to his tunes, and are not, to be 
 indulged in caperings of their own. 
 
 Now, I am not going to be perverse or unreasonable. I 
 will ultimately admit anything that I am convinced of; but 
 I decline, as we go along, to make more admissions than I 
 can help, so that it may not afterwards happen, that Poly- 
 phrastes having admitted this, and Polyphrastes having 
 said that, Euphranor comes forth triumphantly, and shuts 
 poor Polyphrastes up in a syllogism. We are not here to 
 play our parts according to Milverton's bidding, but to argue 
 out a very serious question seriously and guardedly. 
 
 Milverton. I proceed to Number 4. 
 
 (4) The physical well-being of the community. 
 
 This part of the subject has incidentally been treated 
 in Number i, when we were considering the question of 
 expense. All projected improvements tending to the phy- 
 sical well-being of the State are now met with the answer, 
 " N funds." 
 
 But I have more to say about it. It is not only that 
 funds are wanting ; but time, attention, and forethought are 
 wanting. Look what a lot of time and attention on the 
 part of Ministers and Parliament is taken up by small 
 questions concerning these, petty dependencies. 
 
 This course of argument will apply to education as well as 
 to physical well-being. The greatest things for our general 
 well-being as a nation fail to have due thought given to 
 them, because we are busied with all manner of details 
 connected with possessions that are really of no use to us. 
 
 What do you say to all this ? 
 
xv. j ciimnL 4 I[ 
 
 Maukverer. Are people any the happier for this physical 
 well-being and for education ? I doubt. 
 
 Sir Arthur. No, no, Mauleverer ; you mustn't go into 
 your usual course of depreciation of all human effort. We 
 must keep close to the subject. For my part I have 
 nothing to say against Milverton as regards this last branch 
 of -the subject. 
 
 Cranmer. Nor I. I know I never got sufficient atten- 
 tion to anything ; and I believe that we, the British people, 
 are distracted from the consideration of matters that most 
 concern us, by a multiplicity of cares and troubles brought 
 to us from afar. 
 
 Milverton. I am delighted to hear you say that, Cranmer. 
 I may now proceed to the fifth branch of my subject. 
 
 (5) The advancement and development of Christianity. \ 
 have very little to say upon this head. If you do not feel 
 with me at once, I have no hope of persuading you by long 
 arguments. I would just ask you, is it not most inconsis- 
 tent to advocate the adoption of Christianity by individuals, 
 and not to ask Governments to act upon principles which 
 are essentially Christian ? 
 
 You all regret and dread the perpetual increase of arma- 
 ments in Europe. You admit the cruel and wicked expense 
 of these armaments, the loss occasioned by which has lately 
 been estimated at 178,000,0007. per annum, and you ask 
 how on earth this great mischief is to be remedied ? 
 
 I say that some one nation must make the first move, and 
 why should not this nation be England ? 
 
 At present it is an auction of folly. Each nation goes 
 on bidding against the other. There is no end to it. 
 It is like the conduct of ostentatious people, contending 
 who shall make most show ; and this kind of contest can 
 only be ended by the absolute ruin of almost all the 
 contending parties. 
 
 Now, what have you to say to my argument taken as 
 a whole ? 
 
 Here a curious thing occurred. There was a good 
 deal of whispering between Sir John, Sir Arthur, an i 
 Mr. Cranmer; and then Sir John spoke. 
 
4 12 |lealmal). [CHAP. 
 
 Ellesmere. Whenever there is a rude thing to be done, 
 I am the unlucky wight upon whom it falls to do it. We 
 wish that our good host and hostess should take a little 
 conjugal walk, arm in arm, to the fountain in the front 
 garden, and there, reclining on the grass in sweet repose, 
 should consider what they would give us for dinner to 
 morrow, while we make up our minds what we shall reply 
 to this elaborate talk of Milverton's. He has had time 
 to prepare, and so must we. 
 
 Sandy must go too, because, though he is a good and 
 trusty fellow, he so thoroughly belongs to the other camp, 
 that we should be a little afraid of his presence. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Just write down for us, Milverton, the 
 heads of your discourse. 
 
 Mr. Milverton did so, and left the paper with Sir 
 Arthur. We then began to move away. 
 
 Ellesmere. Fairy stays with us. 
 
 But Fairy did not stay with them, but moved away 
 slowly in our direction, in the odd fashion that a dog 
 sometimes does, moving its hind legs like a rheumatic 
 old gentleman, indicating a certain unwillingness to 
 go just what it does when told to go to its kennel, 
 or to go to bed. 
 
 We went to the fountain, and I brought out some 
 railway rugs for us to lie down upon. Mr. Milverton 
 soon fell asleep, for he had been up half the night 
 writing the last chapters. Thus half an hour passed. 
 Afterwards we went into the study and worked. At 
 length we were sent for, and when we had returned 
 to them Sir Arthur began the conversation. 
 
 Sir Arthur. It was somewhat impertinent in us, Mil- 
 verton, to send you and your wife and Mr. Johnson away, 
 but we felt we could discuss the matter better without 
 you, and settle amongst ourselves where the argument 
 was weak, and where it was strong, and what we should 
 finally resolve to say. I am to be the spokesman. 
 
XV. 
 
 I have first the pleasure of informing you that you 
 have made a convert in the person of Mr. Cranmer. 
 
 Cranmer. No, not exactly a convert. I assure you I 
 had many of these ideas floating in my mind before ; and 
 now I only mean, that if I were obliged to vote -to-day, 
 I should vote with Milverton. 
 
 Milverton. I am delighted to hear it, Cranmer. 
 
 Ellesmere. Milverton does love anybody who agrees 
 with him. That is the sure way to his heart. You have 
 risen thirty-three and a half per cent, in his affections, 
 Cranmer. I know you like exact calculations. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I now resume my office as your spokesman. 
 
 In the first place, we are all agreed, except Mauleverer, 
 that philanthropic ways "must not cease, and, in short, we 
 agree with you in the main with regard to all you said 
 about expense. 
 
 With regard to the increase of prestige, we do not seem 
 to care much about it. We think, however, that you may 
 be right in what you said. 
 
 With regard to safety for the State depending on the 
 concentration of its powers and its forces, we thoroughly 
 agree with you. 
 
 Here you must forgive me for a little interruption in 
 the way of illustration that has occurred to me. You 
 know the Highland saying, " Cut your talk with a little 
 drink." So I say, even in the most serious discussion, 
 the talk may be allowed to be cut with something that is 
 either jocose or fanciful. 
 
 Is there any insect that has a particular enmity to the 
 spider? I daresay there is; and, if we had your ento- 
 mologist here, he would probably tell us all about this 
 insect. I will call him the fly-friend. It is rather a 
 shame, by the way, to compare a great nation to a spider, 
 but still I think you will say the illustration is a good one. 
 
 You have observed how spiders' webs are often formed 
 with filaments thrown out to a great distance, the points 
 of attachment being of great importance for the mainte- 
 nance of the web. 
 
 My fly-friend comes and cuts one of these filaments at 
 the furthest point. Before the spider can reach him, he 
 
4*4 ama. [CHAP. 
 
 has gone to another spot and cut the filament there ; and 
 before the irritated spider can reach his enemy, half the 
 web is flapping helplessly down ; for the damage to these 
 distant points is as fatal as if the spider and the fly- 
 friend had come to close quarters. 
 
 You may rely upon it that a great nation, with mnny 
 distant dependencies, is as liable to mischief in this way 
 as any spider's web. 
 
 Milverton. The illustration is admirable; but I think 
 it all comes to be included in the saying of Napoleon, 
 " That the art of war is the art of being strongest at a 
 given time, at a given place." Now I just wish to ask 
 you this ugly question, How are we to be strongest at a 
 given time in Canada? 
 
 How few, even of our greatest statesmen, have given 
 any indication that they are meditating deeply upon our 
 colonial policy? 
 
 Johnson's story about his Spoolans had a great deal of 
 meaning in it. There is next to no looking forward to 
 prepare for great political emergencies. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I must resume. 
 
 With regard to what you said about the physical well- 
 being of a state, we are agreed with you. 
 
 With regard to what you said about the advancement 
 of Christianity, we are all of the same mind with you, 
 except Mauleverer, who said that he had observed that 
 the advancement of Christianity generally meant an in- 
 crease in the number of clergymen and priests. He was 
 not for that. Then he told us that the most malignant 
 human being he had ever known was a parson. We did 
 not see that this had much to do with the present sub- 
 ject, and we outvoted him. 
 
 Milverton. I scarcely know how to construe what I 
 hear. You appear to have nothing to say against me ; 
 and yet you tell me I have only made one convert. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Lady Ellesmere is on the point of con- 
 version. 
 
 FMesmere. 1 think nothing of that. I do not mean 
 to depreciate women : I am in a thoroughly serious mood 
 to-day ; but I knew beforehand that they would be sure 
 
xv.j UaImaIj. 4*5 
 
 to be with you. Your proposition has in it everything 
 to please them. They like anything that looks great and 
 magnanimous ; and you are not to expect them to go 
 into all the statesmanship of the matter. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I am afraid it is now my painful duty, 
 as a schoolmaster would say when he is going to give a 
 boy a whipping, to set before you, Milverton, the great 
 objections that have occurred to us, and which prevent 
 us from being converts, or at least keep us undecided. 
 
 Is not this matter for a congress? Should there not 
 be something like give and take, in such affairs ? Is our 
 Ravala-Mamee to be given up for nothing ? Would not 
 more of what you would wish to be accomplished, be 
 accomplished by making the question European instead 
 of British? 
 
 These are grave questions, my friend. 
 
 Milverton. They are, I wish you had allowed me to 
 be present while you were discussing this part of the 
 subject. I shall merely reply by asking you in turn some 
 grave questions. 
 
 Would there have been such a thing as free-trade in 
 our time if we had waited until other nations had been 
 convinced of the wise policy of freedom in trade? 
 
 Would slavery have been abolished by us if we had 
 waited till other slave-holding nations had come to an 
 agreement with us upon this point? 
 
 And, to take a recent instance, should we ever have 
 ceded the Ionian Islands if we had made that cession a 
 matter of European talk, and haggled about it with other 
 nations? 
 
 Sir Arthur. I proceed to tell you further what we 
 thought ; and I am now really afraid that 1 shall have 
 to say something very unpleasant, and which you will 
 have great difficulty in getting over. 
 
 If any cession of the kind you imagine is to be made, 
 it will have to be discussed in Parliament You know 
 how injudiciously they often talk there about foreign 
 affairs, and how little power the Ministers have either in 
 preventing or directing dangerous discussions of this kind. 
 Now, the transaction which you mean to be a great and 
 
[CHAP 
 
 generous thing, winning you the love and amity of the 
 nation to whom you make this cession, will be so be- 
 slimed with disagreeable and injurious talk, that you are 
 as likely to be hated as to be loved for what you do. 
 
 Milverton. This is a hard blow, I admit; but it is not 
 a fatal one. Such a transaction as I contemplate will 
 never take place without a great burst of generous enthu- 
 siasm, and there will be a great many noble as well as 
 ignoble things said about it. 
 
 But take the worst : say that we do not win the amity 
 of the nation to whom we cede any possession. Will 
 this affect the surrounding nations? Will it make the 
 act really less noble? Will it be the less an initiation 
 of a great policy? And remember this, that some of the 
 advantages I have held out, affect our own individual in- 
 terests such as diminution of expense, and concentration 
 of forces. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I proceed. I am not to enter into dis- 
 cussion, but simply to tell you what we all thought 
 and felt. 
 
 We felt, then, that we were not competent to decide upon 
 such a question without having evidence of a military kind 
 before us. 
 
 Of course you are not able to give us that ; and we 
 should not quite trust you if you were able to give it. 
 We admit that there would probably be great prejudice 
 from a military point of view against your proposal ; but, 
 whether that view is prejudiced or not, we must hear it 
 before pledging ourselves, even in friendly talk, upon such 
 a grave matter. 
 
 Milverton. I have nothing to say in reply on this head, 
 or rather I have a great deal to say; but it must be said 
 after your military views have been expressed, and when I 
 should be able to call in counter-evidence. I could say a 
 great deal from history, bearing upon this point. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes, yes; of course you could. You are 
 better up in such subjects than we are; and you would 
 only give us the instances which are in your favour. I do 
 not mean that you would be intentionally unfair; but, in 
 the course of your reading, the historical examples which are 
 
417 
 
 favourable to your own views would naturally have attracted 
 your attention, and have retained the foremost place in your 
 memory. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I will not allow discussion just yet. I must 
 complete my statement. 
 
 We are afraid, Milverton, of being led away, or rather 
 misled, by the consideration -of some one of your projects 
 such as the giving up of a particular fortress. We see that it 
 would be a great change in our imperial policy, especially as 
 regards the colonies, if we were to consent to come over to 
 your idea, and vote as you propose. We must look upon 
 the thing as a whole. The power, influence, and reputation 
 of a great nation are very delicate things. We are afraid, 
 lest in touching some bit, we should derange the whole. 
 In fact, to use an official word, we are not " prepared " 
 to give our assent, however much or little it may be worth 
 to your proposition. We admit that it is worthy of the most 
 serious, the most anxious consideration. From this time 
 forward we shall, no doubt, keep it in our minds, and find 
 many things to bear upon it which may be either for you or 
 against you. In fine, to talk after a parliamentary fashion, 
 we shall not go into the lobby with you, nor will our names 
 be found in the division list amidst your opponents; but 
 we shall walk out before the end of the debate. 
 
 Ellesmere. A mode of action which, in general, I detest ; 
 but, in this particular case, I must hear a great deal more 
 on both sides before I can come to any conclusion upon 
 so grave a matter. 
 
 Milverton. I do not wish to say anything disrespectful, 
 and I am very deeply obliged to you for the earnest atten- 
 tion you have given to this important subject; but I must 
 remark that some of the arguments, or rather some of the 
 feelings for it seemed to me rather sentiment than argu- 
 ment that Sir Arthur has just adduced are such as have 
 been brought forward to stop the way of every great reform. 
 " Touch this, and what will become of that ? " " Suppress 
 here, and you will cause detriment there." You must admit 
 it is hard to meet these vague accusations. 
 
 Sir Arthur advised that we should sometimes cut our talk 
 by something that was either jocose or fanciful ; and, whilst 
 
 E E 
 
4i 8 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 lie was speaking, I couldn't "help thinking of a p roverb in 
 vogue amongst the Sheviri : 
 
 " The frog leapt from the bank into the water ; and, 
 making a little splash, said that he was so much afraid lest 
 his friend, the pescara, 1 who ate up pike for him in the 
 deep waters of the lake, should be troubled by it." 
 
 Ellesmere. Now that won't do, Milverton : it is very well 
 meant, and veiy sarcastic, but it won't do ; for you begin by 
 telling us that the leap of your frog was a most important 
 plunge the initiation of a new policy. 
 
 Milverton. Then I will give you another proverb which 
 shall be more applicable. No : it shall not be a proverb, 
 but a fable, which was a favourite with the Sheviri. 
 
 In the great wood where the Ramassa curves round the 
 Bidolo-Vamah (I know that Ellesmere always makes fun of 
 this bit of description) there dwelt two lions, occupying re- 
 spectively the north-east and south-west corners of the wood. 
 
 This was in the time when lions and men were very 
 friendly, and often had good talk together. 
 
 Both of these lions had scratched out with their powerful 
 fore-claws deep pitfalls near and afar from their respective 
 caves. 
 
 These pitfalls troubled the poor men very much when 
 they came to gather beech-mast in the woods. So they said 
 to the lions, whom they met walking out together one fine 
 day in the woods, " These holes that you make everywhere 
 are a great trouble to us ; and we have lost some of our 
 people in them. Please fill them up, that friendship may 
 abide between us." 
 
 And the lions said that they would consider about it ; 
 and, after the men had gone, they reasoned together, but 
 could not agree. 
 
 i Mr. Milverton afterwards told me a droll proverb, or rather pro- 
 verbial story, about the pescara and the frog. They are always 
 supposed to be great friends. The story is this : " The pike had hold 
 of the frog's leg ; the pescara came up and swallowed both of them. 
 As the frog was being swallowed he protested against this breach of 
 friendship. Upon which the pescara said, 'It is a pity, but how is it I 
 find you in such bad company?' " The story used politically to intimate 
 that a small State cannot get into relation with a larger State, even that 
 of hostility, without partaking of its troubles. 
 
419 
 
 The lion of the south-west, calling all his friends of the 
 forest together, did fill up these pitfalls: the other lion 
 remained sullen and obdurate. 
 
 Now there came a great drought in the land ; and the 
 lions, drinking filthy water, fell sick, and the little lions 
 were at death's door. 
 
 Then the men sent their chief medicine-man to the good 
 lion, who restored him and his young lions to their full 
 strength; but the other lion lost his lioness and his young 
 cubs, and became more gloomy and ferocious than ever. 
 
 Ellesmere. But there was a time when war did break out 
 between men and lions, and what happened then ? 
 
 Milverton. That is exactly what I was going to tell you. 
 
 War did break out between men and the lions ; and the 
 suspicious lion, flying trom a band of armed men who were 
 too strong for him, fell into one of his pitfalls far away from 
 his cave, the existence of which he had forgotten ; and he 
 died miserably of starvation. But the good and wise lion 
 mocked at the pursuit of armed men, and roamed freely, or 
 if he fled, fled fast and unharmed, over his part of the 
 forest, for he had not to beware of pitfalls ; and he and his 
 descendants occupied his corner of the wood securely, down 
 to the days of the great King Realmah commonly called 
 Realmah-Lelaipah-Mu, - Realmah, the youth who could 
 foresee things. 
 
 Ellesmere. I must admit that the fable is a very signi- 
 ficant one, and keeps close to the matter it is meant to 
 illustrate ; but these kind of illustrations never convince me. * 
 
 Milverton. Before I conclude, there is one point upon 
 which I wish especially not to be misunderstood ; and I 
 trust that you will not misunderstand me. 
 
 I trust that you will not think that I wish Great Britain 
 to act like a cruel stepmother the stepmother that we meet 
 with in fiction ; for I have often observed that in real life 
 stepmothers are very kind and to get rid of her colonies 
 in the most summary and careless manner. 
 
 All I vvish is, that these great colonial questions should 
 
 be carefully considered by our statesmen. There may be 
 
 a great State, or what will soon be a great" State, which, in 
 
 case of the outbreak of any European war, will be molested 
 
 E E 2 
 
420 eitnUtj. [CHAP. 
 
 solely in consequence of its being attached to us by ties, how- 
 ever slight. Now, for the interest of such a State (if such a 
 State there be), still more than for our own interest, I wish 
 to disengage it from us, and so to free it from any mischief 
 that might come upon it from its connexion with ourselves. 
 
 I have come to no fixed conclusions upon the difficult 
 points connected with this matter. I only wish, both for 
 the sake of our colonies and ourselves, that this great subject 
 should have due and instant consideration. 
 
 I do not pretend that I have not some distinct views and 
 principles in my own mind upon this subject ; but I do not 
 desire to impress them, at the present moment, upon you. 
 All I ask for, is consideration. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I must say, Milverton, that you are very 
 good and reasonable upon this great subject. I should have 
 much less faith in you, and much less interest in your treat- 
 ment of the subject, if you were to endeavour, at this early 
 period of the discussion, to enforce upon us any cut and 
 dried opinions upon it. 
 
 Ellesnierc. Oh, he is as cunning a dog as ever lived, 
 as regards the artful way in which he gradually gets his 
 opinions to sink into your mind ! He began with me, as 
 a little boy in a pepper-and-salt jacket and trousers, to 
 convince me about the Corn-laws, and Free-trade, and 
 other great questions about which he had made up his 
 boyish mind most conclusively. To be sure he turned 
 out to be right ; but that is no matter. That was a mere 
 accident. I warn you that when he is most fair-spoken, he 
 is most dangerous. 
 
 Milverton. I cannot talk any more to-day. I am very 
 tired. 
 
 Having so said, Mr. Milverton rose to. go away. 
 Before doing so, however, he put his arm in a 
 brotherly fashion round Lady Ellesmere, and gave 
 her a kiss, saying, " I am so glad, my dear Mildred, 
 that you are on my side, for I know you are ; and 
 you must bring him round. It is an important 
 admission, by the way, that he makes namely, that 
 all the women would be on my side of the question." 
 
xv.] umaT. 421 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh dear me, how wonderfully affectionate we 
 are to those people who agree with us ! It is not often 
 that my poor wife, " a poor thing, sir, but mine own," is 
 honoured in this way. And I am not sure that I should 
 like it to occur very often. 
 
 Please don't go yet. After a painful and elaborate dis- 
 cussion one ought to have something to amuse one. Do 
 you remember that just before Miiverton announced his 
 five propositions, I said I could tell you something about 
 a sermon that was divided into five heads ? And Miiverton 
 would not let me interrupt. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Yes. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, I was a boy of thirteen, at church with 
 my father ; and opposite to us, in the gallery, was a lad of 
 about the same age as I was, in a pew with his family. 
 
 The sermon was of the order called drowsy, and we were 
 well into the third head of the discourse, and I was trying 
 to get a glance at the MS. in order to see whether we had 
 got through more than half the number of pages, which 
 I am sorry to say was a favourite device of mine, when my 
 attention was arrested by a noise in the pew opposite. Up 
 started the lad I have told you of (we will call him Tom 
 Brown, remembering Tom Hughes's story) : in the most 
 decisive manner he brushed by his family, banged the pew 
 door, and marched away, making a considerable disturb- 
 ance. 
 
 Immediately after church, my father, one of the most 
 amiable of men (Lady Ellesmere is thinking now how dif- 
 ferent from her son), said to me, " Johnny, we must go and 
 call at the Browns' directly. Tommy is either very ill, or 
 there is something extraordinary the matter with the boy." 
 Accordingly we went to pay a visit to the Browns', and 
 there we found what really had happened. My little friend 
 Tom Brown had been chaffering the whole week with a gipsy 
 boy from the neighbouring common, about the purchase 
 of a donkey. Late on Saturday evening the negotiation 
 stood thus: Tommy had offered i/. 15^. The gipsy boy 
 stood out for i/. 17-r. 6d. 
 
 During the first and the second head of the sermon, the 
 wicked Tommy had been thinking over all the good points 
 
4 2 - JjLcalmajf. [CHAP. 
 
 of the donkey; and in the course of the third head had 
 come to the conclusion that he would give i/. 17 s. 6d. And, 
 being a boy of a most decisive turn of mind, he resolved 
 at once to complete the bargain. 
 
 That boy was the only person I ever saw go boldly out 
 of church, banging the pew door, and stamping out as if 
 he thought the whole congregation, if they knew what was 
 in his mind, would entirely approve of what he was doing. 
 You know if one has ever so good a reason for going out of 
 church, one generally sneaks out as if one were doing the 
 most wicked thing possible. 
 
 Now the recollection of that transaction has stood me 
 in good stead ever since. When I have been arguing 
 before the House of Lords, or the Privy Council, and 
 have noticed that the attention of one of the Lords is 
 wandering a little, I say to myself, he is thinking whether 
 he will give i/. 17^. 6d. for the donkey, so I must quit 
 this branch of the subject, and rouse him up with a fresh 
 argument. 
 
 How invaluable this story would be to Members of Parlia- 
 ment ! When a man, in a long and tiresome speech that he 
 is labouring through, sees that the attention of the House 
 is wandering, he should immediately realize the fact that it 
 is thinking whether it will give its i/. 17 s. 6d. for the donkey, 
 and he should at once conclude by firing off his peroration, 
 long ago prepared. It is the most foolish thing in the world 
 to go on, even with good argumentation, when you see that 
 your audience is tired. I should like it to be told of me 
 that my auditors had always said, "I wish Ellesmere would 
 have given us a longer speech ; but he is always so succinct 
 and curt." What an example the late Sir William Follett 
 was to all of us ! There was a man. People did not pre- 
 sume to cough while he was speaking. It was really one of 
 the highest intellectual pleasures to hear that man deal with 
 a difficult case, or a great subject. And how appreciative 
 even the most uncultivated intellects are of such closeness 
 of reasoning ! I knew a common soldier who always went 
 to hear the late Archbishop of Dublin preach, because, to 
 use an expression which delighted me, " it was so well 
 argued and put." By the way, what a good essay that is 
 
423 
 
 of that man of many initials, A.K.H.B., on the "Art of 
 Putting. Things." 
 
 Now you will all remember this story of mine about the 
 i/. lyj. 6d. for the donkey. You are very good, Sir Arthur, 
 in respect of speech-making, for you never make a speech 
 in Parliament but it is a great speech, and I honour you for 
 that. You are very seldom tiresome. 
 
 Sir Arthur (putting his hand to his heart). It is indeed 
 a compliment to be praised by Sir John Ellesmere, whose 
 praise, from its exceeding rarity, is certainly most valuable. 
 I hope I may always deserve it \Excuni omncs. 
 
4 2 4 eamaf. [CHAP. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FOR some few days we had no readings nor con- 
 versations. The truth is, Mr. Milverton was ill. I 
 think the excitement and the anxiety that he had 
 lately undergone, from his desire to convince these 
 people, had made him ill, but he would not allow, 
 even to his wife or to me, that this was the case. 
 
 When he had recovered, we had another meeting. 
 Sir Arthur began the conversation. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Do you know, I think, Milverton, that we 
 behaved rather badly to you the other day. We treated 
 you and Mrs. Milverton, and Mr. Johnson, as if you were 
 enemies ; and we, the know-nothings, held our private 
 caucus, and arranged our opposition to you, somewhat 
 ungraciously perhaps. But I can assure you that you had 
 great friends in this caucus, in Lady Ellesmere and Mr. 
 Cranmer. 
 
 Cranmer. I am very anxious to hear Realmah's speech. 
 
 Ellesmere. And so am I; not that there will be anything 
 new in it ; for, depend upon it, Master Realmah has nothing 
 to say beyond that which Master Milverton has already 
 said to us. But he (Realmah) is an interesting specimen of 
 a savage, and I should like to see how he deals with his 
 Sir Arthur, his Cranmer, his Ellesmere 
 
 Cranmer. Say, his Condore. 
 
 Ellesmere. And his Mauleverer, who, after all, will be 
 the most difficult person to deal with. 
 
 Mauleverer. I do not know what the Lake City Maule- 
 verer might have been like ; but I can only say, that the 
 British M-auleverer is a most reasonable person to deal 
 with. It is true that he does not partake of any of your 
 enthusiasms ; but, at least, he is very like that good man, 
 Londardo, and is apt to think that the arguments for and 
 
xvi.] amay. 4 2 5 
 
 against anything are about equal ; and so he is generally 
 inclined to go the way that his friends would have him. 
 
 He is not like a certain yappetting little poodle that I 
 once ventured to describe, but is rather of the bull-dog order, 
 leady and willing to take up his friend and master's side, 
 without looking too anxiously into the rights of the dispute. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Let us have the King's speech, Milverton. 
 The greatest proof that we can give you of our interest 
 in your subject is, that we would rather listen to you than 
 have any more of our own talk. And I am sure that this is 
 the general feeling. 
 
 Milverton. I don't know how you all became aware 
 that Realmah is to make a speech ; I never told you. But 
 Mildred knew it, and I suppose she told her husband, for 
 there is no trusting a married woman with anything. She 
 is sure to go and tell her husband ; and then he, not having 
 been trusted himself in the first instance, has no scruple in 
 telling the whole world. The speech, however, does not 
 come just yet. 
 
 Mr. Milverton then commenced the reading. 
 
 of 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE KING'S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 THE King began to look very old and worn and wan. 
 It was a weakness of this great monarch that he 
 would not know of this approach of age and decay. 
 Never did he look in the polished shells that served 
 as mirrors amongst the Sheviri, nor gaze down into 
 the waters of the lake by daylight. He felt that he 
 had yet much to do. Life had few, if any, pleasures 
 for him ; but it abounded in duties. That man is 
 very strong and powerful who has no more hope for 
 
gealmab. [CHAP 
 
 himself: who looks not to be loved any more ; to be 
 admired any more ; to have any more honour or 
 dignity ; and who cares not for gratitude ; but whose 
 sole thought is for others, and who only lives on for 
 them. 
 
 This was the state of Realmah. He ever feared 
 that the civilization he had created with such great 
 rapidity, would die away with equal rapidity after his 
 death. Fearing this, even he, wise as he was, re- 
 doubled his efforts at a time when he ought, in great 
 measure, to have relaxed them ; and he would not 
 know that he was fading away. 
 
 Quick to discern what was in their monarch's mind, 
 the courtiers were prone to talk before him of his 
 never-failing youth and vigour; and had the effrontery 
 to dwell upon this welcome theme, even when they 
 saw the pale grey King, in his grand heavy robes, 
 wearily make his way to a council, or drag himself 
 along in some .state ceremony. 
 
 Do what you will, you never can get to the end 
 of the odd folly of mankind. It is a sea that cannot 
 be sounded. The witty Erasmus may write a book ] 
 about it, but it defies the satire of the keenest satirist, 
 and is beyond the imagination of the most imagi- 
 native man. Here was a prince who had done great 
 things, and was inaccessible to any flattery about 
 them. Indeed, he could not bear to hear them alluded 
 to. So impatient was he in this respect, that he had 
 cut short an ambassador from a neighbouring people, 
 who commenced an oration by a long and laudatory 
 description of the King's great doings. " Could we 
 not, my Lord Ambassador," said Realmah, " take all 
 this for granted, and proceed at once to the business 
 in hand ? " 
 
 The same man, however, was open to gross flattery 
 upon the subject of his youthfulness and continued 
 
 2 The celebrated work, " Mcrise Encomium." 
 
Jvcalmab. 4 2 7 
 
 vigour ; and did not object to be told, though he 
 knew it to be false, at each recurring birthday, that 
 the King possessed a charmed life, and that the past 
 year seemed to have added to his vigour, rather than 
 to have taken from it. 
 
 The art of sculpture is one which makes its ap- 
 pearance at the earliest periods of civilization ; and 
 the Sheviri were already considerable adepts in this 
 art. As was to be expected, the representation of 
 their monarch was a favourite subject with the artists 
 of Abibah. On the Bridge of Leopards, an elegant 
 little wooden bridge which connected two portions of 
 the eastern part of the city, there were two statues of 
 the King. The second one had been taken from life, 
 seventeen years after the first. The costumes of the 
 statues were different one being the garb of a war- 
 rior, the other that of a king ; but the second statue 
 was even more juvenile-looking, if anything, than the 
 first. And both of them represented a very young 
 man, a kind of Apollo, who would by no means halt 
 in his gait. 
 
 There was not a person, man or woman, in Abibah, 
 who did not know the foible of the great King ; and 
 probably it endeared him to them, for a man of great 
 merit ought to have many foibles, if he would be 
 much loved. 
 
 There is generally something very interesting in 
 premature decay, and that because of the strange 
 contrast it mostly affords. It is seldom, or ever, total. 
 There has been either great physical or great mental 
 overwork ; and part of the vital energies is deadened 
 or destroyed, while the other part remains intact. 
 Upon this other part new strain is put ; and gallantly 
 for a time, if backed by a great soul, this other part 
 answers to the strain put upon it. But each day 
 the enemy is stronger, and the resisting power is 
 weaker. 
 
4 2 & lie&Imalr. [CHAP. 
 
 There was also in Realmah a quality which is to 
 be noticed in the greatest men, but it is one which 
 tells with great severity upon the vital powers. There 
 was an almost infinite pitifulness l in Realmah. The 
 private and the public troubles of his subjects became 
 his own, and there was not a disease or a disaster 
 amongst his numerous subjects that did not weigh 
 upon the heart, and tax the energies, of the great and 
 loving King. 
 
 His career, which we have but in a small degree 
 narrated, shows that he possessed that first quality 
 needful for a ruler justice. But if there was any 
 exception to this rule, any weakness of favouritism 
 to be observed in him, it was in a leaning which he 
 always showed to the tribe of the fishermen. Never 
 was it known that the poorest fisherman was kept 
 long waiting for an audience with Realmah. That 
 tribe never suspected that the King's especial regard 
 for them proceeded from his never-dying love for the 
 Ainah. They thought that it was their own especial 
 services to him on the night of the great revolution 
 that endeared them to him. And, perhaps, his lean- 
 ing to the fishermen's tribe was, after all, a stroke of 
 policy (at any rate he pretended to himself that it 
 was so), for it is a grand thing for any person in 
 power to have any man, or body of men, upon whose 
 affection he can profoundly rely, and whom he has not 
 to study to win upon any particular occasion of diffi- 
 culty. Even the great Napoleon, as hard a man as 
 ever lived, could speak with loving tenderness of those 
 who were " devoted to my person ; " and it is one of 
 the few blessings that attend great men, that they are 
 sure to elicit a large amount of personal affection 
 amongst those who come into close contact with them. 
 
 1 It is a strange thing, by the way, that that word "pitiful" should 
 have been so corrupted, and that the man whose heart is full of pity 
 should have come to be looked upon as a small and poor kind of man. 
 
xvi.] cama;. 429 
 
 The forty-seventh birthday of the King approached, 
 and was to be celebrated throughout the city with 
 great rejoicings. It was customary, on that anniver- 
 sary, for the King to receive all the official persons 
 connected with his government, both of the city of 
 Abibah and of the neighbouring towns. 
 
 It had been doubtful, on account of the wounds 
 which the King had received on the occasion of the 
 mock fight, whether he would be well enough to un- 
 dertake this ceremony. But, notwithstanding those 
 wounds were still unhealed, he did so, though on this 
 day it was a very long reception, which lasted indeed 
 for live hours. Never was the King more gracious 
 never did he give more ample encouragement to those 
 of his high officers who had pleased him by the dili- 
 gent discharge of their duties, and who had loyally 
 promoted his great designs ; but, at the end of the 
 reception, he fainted away in the arms of his at- 
 tendants. Still this warning had no effect in rendering 
 the King more prudent ; and, with unabated vigour, 
 he prepared to undertake in a few days' time a great 
 ceremony, the particulars of which will be narrated in 
 the following chapter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE FESTIVAL OF THE FOUNDATION OF ABIBAH. 
 
 IT was the festival of the foundation of the city of 
 Abibah. The festival was always celebrated on the 
 ninety-sixth day of the year, 1 and it was an occasion 
 
 1 The manner in which the day for holding this anniversary was fixed 
 upon was by calculating as follows : three fours were multiplied 
 together ; and to their product was added the sum of eight fours, thus 
 making the total 96. 
 
430 amar. [CHAP. 
 
 upon which the King was expected to speak very 
 frankly to his people, and to declare to them his 
 hopes, his fears, and his wishes for the future. 
 
 Whether Realmah felt that his health was In a 
 precarious state (though no man dared to say that he 
 was not as young and vigorous as ever), or whether 
 he feared any quarrel amongst his allies and tributa- 
 ries (and he was well aware that what he intended to 
 do could only be done in a time of profound peace), 
 he resolved that at this festival he would declare 
 his great project to the people. His recent wounds, 
 he knew, would not be otherwise than most service- 
 able to him on this occasion. In fact this may have 
 determined him, as he was well aware that his people 
 were much afraid that they had not yet earned his 
 forgiveness, and would therefore be most anxious to 
 conciliate him, and to make their peace at any 
 sacrifice. 
 
 Now Realmah was a great orator a born orator. 
 After the first moments of abject nervousness, which 
 all men of fine temperament experience at beginning 
 a speech, Realmah was never greater, never more self- 
 possessed, than when he was addressing a multitude 
 of his subjects. 
 
 The thousands of eyes looking up at him seemed 
 to endow him with a part of their own magnetic 
 force. He felt that he could move his audience to 
 tears, to laughter, and even, what is more difficult 
 still, to self-abnegation. He was well aware that on 
 this great occasion he must tax his powers to the 
 utmost, and either win or lose the cause which, for 
 thirty-five years, he had set his heart upon. 
 
 It was from a platform ascended by steps in the 
 centre of the great market-place of Abibah, that the 
 King was accustomed to address the assembled 
 people on the auspicious day of the anniversary of 
 the founding of their city. 
 
xvi.] 
 
 Slowly and painfully did the King ascend the steps 
 on this memorable day. He smiled a strange, ghastly 
 smile, composed partly of pain, partly of a wish to 
 appear very gracious and very much delighted at 
 meeting the assembled people. In the distance the 
 smile looked very well, and seemed all graciousness ; 
 but to the faithful Omki, his foster-brother, this set 
 smile brought tears to the heart. And, strange to 
 say (which was only too painfully noticed by Omki), 
 the King, in the middle of the ascent, laid hold of his 
 arm, and leant heavily upon it. " Keep close to me, 
 dear Omki," he said ; and Omki shuddered, for the 
 King was not wont to say " dear," or to be so openly 
 affectionate, even to him. 
 
 A word or two must be said of Omki before we 
 proceed to give an account of the royal speech, and 
 of its direful results. 
 
 There is much hero-worship even in these days, 
 but, alas, of what a different kind to that of this 
 faithful foster-brother ! It is the hero-worship of ask- 
 ing the hero out to unwelcome festivity, in order to 
 show him off, of invading his privacy, of molesting 
 him in every way : it is not the hero-worship of 
 devoting labour and time, and fortune and self- 
 sacrifice, and life itself, to a great man, who would 
 be worth it all. Now it is little to say that Omki 
 would have given his life for his foster-brother the 
 King : he would have waded deep in blood, regard- 
 less of his own soul, to obey any order of the King. 
 I am describing a pagan, and not a Christian ; but 
 there is great merit in such self-devotion, in whatever 
 way it may be shown. 
 
 The King gained the platform, and wearily threw 
 his jasper-studded robes behind him. 
 
 His great Council followed a body of venerable 
 men, who looked as if the cares of state were deeply 
 marked in their expressive countenances. There was 
 
43 2 glealmalj. [CHAP. 
 
 a flourish of trumpets, or of the instruments that 
 corresponded with trumpets, which was by no means 
 ineffective, for the Sheviri were an eminently musical 
 people, and, in their rude instruments, there were the 
 beginnings of all the instruments that are now most 
 potent in the expression of musical ideas. The 
 people were hushed into a supreme silence. 
 
 Milverton. I reserve the speech for a new chapter ; and, 
 before describing its effect upon the men of Abibah, would 
 like to hear what the guests at Worth-Ashton have to say 
 further upon Realmah's great project. 
 
 Here there was a pause for a time, but nobody 
 chose to make any remark, and then Mr. Milverton 
 resumed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE KING'S SPEECH. 
 
 THE King commenced his speech. He began in 
 those low, soft, musical tones which compel attention 
 from a crowd. 
 
 He told his people of the delight it was to him to 
 meet them ; and how, in that vast assemblage of 
 thoughtful men (and he should that day demand the 
 .utmost of their thought) he believed that there was 
 not one single human being who was not a friend of 
 his who was not indeed devotedly attached to his 
 person and his government. 
 
 He went into various details, which we need not 
 recount here, to show what had been done during 
 the past year; and he dwelt at some length upon 
 
433 
 
 the ever-increasing prosperity which had gladdened 
 the streets of Abibah. He spoke of their improve- 
 ments in manufacture, especially of the manufacture 
 of iron, and pointed out to them how wise and how 
 advantageous had been the policy which had made 
 them the manufacturers of iron for all that part of 
 the world. " See," he said, " the fruits of a generous 
 polity. Had we kept this art to ourselves, we might, 
 it is true, have been almost supernaturally strong to 
 resist invasion ; but now r we not only can defy inva- 
 sion, but we have gained the goodwill of all the 
 people both far and near, and, in the last three 
 years, our city is doubled in extent." 
 
 From all parts of the vast assemblage, at that and 
 at other portions of the speech, the cries of " Maralah ! 
 maralah ! " " He has said it ! He has said it ! " 
 (which corresponded to our " Hear, hear,") were 
 heard. 
 
 While the King was giving these details there was 
 a gentle murmur of under-talk amongst the crowd, 
 for neither civilized nor uncivilized men can long 
 endure the narration of details, however interesting 
 they may be, or rather however interesting they 
 ought to be. But this murmur was entirely hushed 
 into a supreme silence when the King changed the 
 subject, and began to speak about the mock-fight. 
 
 This subject he touched upon with great skill and 
 delicacy. He took all the blame upon himself, saying 
 that he ought to have known that the Sheviri, even in 
 play, could not bear to be defeated. He was glad 
 that he had been one of the principal sufferers. With 
 regard to those few poor men who had fallen, our 
 good Queen, he said, had taken care to provide for 
 their families. 
 
 When he ceased speaking on this topic, the crowd 
 felt that a weight had been taken off them, and there 
 was a general murmur of satisfaction, each man con- 
 
 F F 
 
434 eamaf. [CHAP. 
 
 gratulating his neighbour that no evil thing had 
 happened to them, and saying how good and kind 
 the King was, so ill too as he looked from the effects 
 of his wounds. 
 
 Realmah won many hearts by this part of his 
 speech. 
 
 Then there came a long and elaborate story, or 
 rather fable. Some such fable had always been told 
 by Realmah on these occasions, and for this occasion 
 it had cost him many a weary midnight hour to think 
 over this fable and to prepare it. All the rest of his 
 speech flowed from his heart, and was the gift of the 
 moment ; but the fable was a work of art He was 
 not so much in advance in thought of his fellow- 
 countrymen as not to think these fables a most 
 significant way of conveying ideas ; and what to 
 us would seem childish, was to him a great flight of 
 imagination and of thoughtfulness. 
 
 The story was all about a crane and a serpent, and 
 it told how the good crane was loved and favoured 
 by everybody brought good fortune wherever it 
 alighted, and, in fact, was a sort of much-loved king. 
 While, on the other hand, the serpent was hated by 
 all living creatures ; and even when it was innocent, 
 and had left its poison behind it for the day, the 
 remembrance of its treachery and its malignity 
 made all creatures pitiless towards it, and anxious 
 to destroy it. 
 
 The people did not quite perceive the drift of the 
 story, which, however, was soon to be made manifest 
 to them ; but they applauded it, because any story 
 about beasts, or birds, or reptiles, was very welcome 
 to them. 
 
 The King then dwelt upon the various embassies 
 which had reached the town of Abibah in the course 
 of the preceding year, and showed his people what 
 credit and what vast advantages had flowed from the 
 
xvi.] gcudnab. 435 
 
 commanding position which the Sheviri now occupied 
 amongst the sons of men. " Is it not better," he said, 
 "to be called upon to arbitrate than to be deluded 
 into a participation in their trumpery wars ? Not 
 that we fear war all the nations know that ; and 
 there lives not a prince so daring as, even in his 
 dreams, to contemplate a war with the Sheviri ; " and 
 all the people shouted again with renewed enthusiasm, 
 " Maralah ! maralah ! " 
 
 " What," Realmah continued, " could be said of 
 the frenzy of those who should dare to attack the 
 men by whose valour and sagacity alone the warlike 
 nations of the North (now no longer dreaded) had 
 been triumphantly beaten back to their inhospitable, 
 ice-bound climes ? " 
 
 And now he dexterously changed his mode of 
 speech ; he dwelt upon the beauty and the power 
 possessed not only by himself, but by every one in 
 that assemblage, even the meanest, of being as it 
 were an arbiter of the fate of surrounding nations, 
 of settling quarrels, of appeasing feuds, of being, if 
 he might presume to say so, humble representa- 
 tives upon earth of the great God whose name he 
 did not dare to mention, who loved all men, and 
 only wished that all mankind should be one brother- 
 hood. 
 
 Here the exclamations of applause were redoubled, 
 and the soft voices of women might also have been 
 heard exclaiming " Maralah ! maralah ! " 
 
 Realmah then, with great tact, alluded to the 
 labours of his Council ; he was but the meanest of 
 the servants of his people. What should he, a com- 
 paratively young man (here there was a smile on the 
 faces of the whole assemblage, which each man and 
 each woman strove to suppress), be, if he had not the 
 guidance, the affectionate guidance, of their fathers, 
 who had grown old in the service of the country, and 
 F F 2 
 
|UaImaIj. [CHAP. 
 
 who stood around him, a devoted band of trusty coun- 
 cillors, second to none upon this green earth ? 
 
 He then, with the skill of an accomplished orator, 
 affected to hesitate and to be overcome, while from 
 the most distant outskirts of the vast assemblage there 
 arose cries of the most endearing encouragement. 
 They called upon the gods to bless him, to prosper all 
 his doings, to preserve him to them for untold years ; 
 and even Realmah, who had meant the interlude 
 as a mere artful point in oratory, was himself, for the 
 moment, overcome by the vast display of real affection 
 exhibited towards him by his people. He absolutely 
 wept ; but knowing how mistaken a thing it is for an 
 orator to be really overcome by his feelings, he threw 
 himself back upon the thought of the great work he 
 had to undertake, and of the immense difficulty that 
 it would be to overcome his people's prejudices. 
 He himself, however, scarcely recognised the effect 
 he had produced, that there was not a man in that 
 vast assemblage who at that moment would not have 
 thought it almost treason to presume to differ from 
 their great King. 
 
 A little incident, too, succeeded in recovering 
 Realmah more than almost anything else could 
 have done. His eyes had fallen upon the critical 
 Condore ; and, to the King's amazement, Condore, 
 who by the way was always fascinated by oratory, 
 was one of those who gesticulated most furiously, 
 and made the most tempestuous exclamations of 
 applause. 
 
 But Condore, true to his critical character, the 
 moment he found the King's eyes upon him, changed 
 immediately, and began to move his head from right 
 to left, in token of the severest disapproval. Realmah, 
 who like most men of genius had the keenest sense 
 of what was ridiculous, was amazingly tickled by 
 Condore's behaviour ; and the good Condore probably 
 
ealma{f, 437 
 
 at that moment unconsciously fulfilled his mission on 
 the earth, for he succeeded in restoring the King, 
 who had been nearly overcome by these outbursts of 
 affection, to the full mastery of his usual cool, crafty, 
 self-possessed nature. 
 
 Realmah resumed his oration, feeling that it was 
 almost the supreme moment of his life. " What then 
 have we gained, and how have we gained it ? We 
 have gained the affection of all the peoples who dwell 
 within four hundred innesangs. 1 Now look," he said, 
 " what is it that governs ? Is it force ? Force lasts 
 only as long as it is present, but the power of affection 
 lasts for ever, speaks even out of the tomb. Most of 
 us here present are men. Are we ruled ? Doubtless 
 we are. By whom are we ruled ? Is it by those who 
 have strength to compel us, or is it by those whose 
 weakness and whose delicacy contain their most 
 undoubted strength ? What man amongst us, from 
 the king on his throne to the fisherman whose daily 
 bread is precarious, will not own, if he be a man, to 
 an infinite desire to win and to gratify those who are 
 dearest to him in his household, his wives and his 
 children ? " (There was enormous shouting in the 
 crowd, with loud bursts of laughter, in which the 
 women did not join, and great cries of " Maralah ! 
 maralah ! ") 
 
 The King proceeded : " I have spoken, it may be 
 jestingly, it may be that the most earnest thoughts 
 that I have ever uttered underlie this playful speech. 
 Do you think that the law of affection is confined to 
 individual men and women alone ? May there not be 
 states that should feel towards one another a similar 
 relation ? And now I will tell you what I have felt 
 from my youth upwards, and, if ever you have loved 
 your King, you must listen to him when he seeks to 
 
 1 Tnnesanp, a measure in use with the Sheviri, being 400 times 4 
 feet, taking the average length of the human foot as the unit. 
 
43 8 llcalmalj. [CHAP. 
 
 persuade you of that which, from his earliest years, 
 has been his deepest wish, and to which the endea- 
 vours of his years of maturity years not passed 
 without suffering, such as only a king can know 
 have been devoted. What has been the one thing 
 which has long prevented our being supremely loved 
 and admired by the nations around us ; which has 
 stood in the way of our being loved by them with the 
 devotedness which a woman has for the lord of her 
 household, her chief? It has been our possession of 
 the great fortress of Ravala-Mamee. This, and this 
 alone, has alienated the affections of the nations from 
 us. When we were a weak people, it might have 
 been well to preserve it ; but now we are beyond all 
 fears, and our rule will best be enlarged, maintained, 
 and preserved, by our possessing the entire confidence 
 and love of all the surrounding nations. 
 
 " I am for abandoning this fortress " (there were 
 cries of " Maralah nevee" " He has not spoken it ! " 
 The King disregarded them ; he continued) : " Is it 
 much to confide in your king ? There are not many 
 times in a man's life when it becomes him to say what 
 he has done ; but there are such times. Have not I 
 have not we" (turning to his councillors) "raised 
 you from a petty state to the most commanding 
 nation known in this part of the world ? Is it for 
 ordinary men to measure the wisdom of chiefs ? But 
 I need not upbraid you. I see by your countenances 
 that you are only too willing to believe in your king, 
 who has led you on so often to victory ; who has 
 made each of you a conqueror ; and who now seeks, 
 with your aid, which you will 'not refuse your king, to 
 place your dominion upon a basis which cannot be 
 removed the love, the affection, and the gratitude of 
 all the surrounding nations, upon whose necks you 
 might have trampled, but to whom you say, ' Rise, 
 and be one with us, who are the leaders of arts, of 
 
xvi 
 
 Eculnmb. 439 
 
 knowledge, b.nd of policy the indomitable Sheviri.' " 
 The vast assemblage answered to the King's noble 
 words with corresponding enthusiasm, and there was 
 but one cry, or if there was, the voices of dissentients 
 were drowned by the predominant shout of " Maralah ! 
 maralah ! " 
 
 The King, upon whose face there beamed the light 
 of joy such as no man had yet seen upon it, resumed : 
 " It is not I who am I that I should guide your 
 councils ? It is your fathers, the venerable men who 
 stand around me, who sanction all that I propose, and 
 who, far superior to me, have overcome their attach- 
 ment to a policy in which they were bred ; which they 
 have long maintained by arts and by arms ; but 
 which, with the greatness of minds open to convic- 
 tion, they are now determined to supersede by a 
 policy of wise and affectionate conciliation." The 
 surrounding members of the Council intimated, by 
 expressive gestures, their consent, and the approving 
 shouts of the whole assemblage were redoubled. 
 
 Realmah resumed his speech ; and resolved, in one 
 splendid peroration, long ago prepared in those mid- 
 night walks of his up and down the balcony, to fix 
 upon the minds of his people his own prophetic ideas. 
 I call them prophetic, for, alas ! they were not to be 
 realized in his time ; but such ideas were to be for the 
 guidance of nations to whom the very name of 
 Realmah, of his nation, of his generation, would be 
 entirely foreign, and to whom his wars, his alliances, 
 and his suzerainties would be as utterly unknown as 
 the battles of the kites and the crows, or any of the 
 inferior animals. 
 
 Realmah resumed : " And now these are my last 
 words to-day to all of you. And it may be that the 
 King may not speak to you many more times, for he 
 is feeble" (from all parts of the assemblage arose 
 shouts of "Long live the King!") "yes, he is 
 
44 lUalmalj. [CHAP. 
 
 feeble ; and he knows, though he has sought to dis- 
 guise it from you and from himself, that he is not the 
 man he was. He would have you drink in these 
 words as if indeed they were his last. He has sought 
 to be a father to you; and all his own joys and 
 sorrows have been put aside to fulfil to each one of 
 you the loving relation of a father. And you have 
 been good sons to him. 
 
 " What man amongst you is there that does not 
 love Realmah ? " (The audience were moved to an 
 inexpressible degree.) " But I come back to my great 
 subject. What is the highest power ? What is the 
 greatest force ? What is the most unbounded domi- 
 nion ? Is it the power of the sword ? Is it the force 
 of arms ? Is it the dominion gained by conquest ? 
 Lives there one amongst you, the most daring, the 
 highest placed, whom Realmah could not, by a word, 
 condemn to death ? But what would the King gain 
 by the loss of a loving subject ? And so it is with 
 each one of us, all of whom are kings. We will rule 
 in the hearts of surrounding nations, and not diminish 
 or destroy them. It shall be for ever said of the 
 Sheviri that they were dauntless in battle, merciful in 
 conquest, and good lords whom all men desired to 
 live under, and whose beneficent sway spread out 
 undivided, unresisted, unopposed, from where that 
 bright luminary rises joyous in the strength of youth, 
 to where, surrounded by his purple guards, he descends 
 into the waters that receive him tenderly, and refresh 
 him for the labours of the ensuing day. 
 
 " I say again, What is conquest ? What is power ? 
 What is domination ? " And here, strangely enough, 
 Realmah concluded in a form of speech that was 
 adopted on a similar occasion by one of our own 
 greatest orators, 1 so true is it that the highest flights 
 of oratory are alike in all nations, and under all cir- 
 
 1 Lord Macaulay, in his Indian speech. 
 
441 
 
 cumstances. " To have found the peoples of this 
 vast region sunk in barbarism, 1 living from day to day 
 a mean, care-driven, hazardous life, each man set 
 against his neighbour, each chief against his brother 
 chief, each state against its neighbour state ; their 
 arms of defence and offence the weapons of children : 
 their habitations, huts ; their policy, only craft ; their 
 ambition, only self-interest ; their mode of life, little 
 better than that of the wild animals of the woods to 
 have raised all these people till they are men, states- 
 men, members of great nations these are the tri- 
 umphs of reason 2 over barbarism. This is the just, 
 the only just, and God-rewarded conquest insured to 
 us by our arts and our morals, by our divine policy 
 and our heaven-descended laws." 
 
 The King ceased. The assemblage was moved to 
 a degree that had never been known before, even at 
 these high festivals. Upon their recovering from 
 their emotion, they shouted with one voice, " Let it 
 be as the King has said ; we are his slaves, long live 
 Realmah." 
 
 But, strange to say, the King, for a minute or two, 
 moved not, but gazed at his people with a glassy 
 stare, as if all intelligence had gone out of him. 
 Then, recovering himself, he grasped at the balcony, 
 afterwards, in a moment, at the arm of the faithful 
 Omki, who was close to him. "Stay near me," he 
 muttered in strangely indistinct words, " guards, close 
 around me : let the trumpets sound." 
 
 The faithful Omki divined the coming danger. 
 Leaning heavily upon Omki, and tottering down the 
 steps, surrounded by his body-guard, and followed by 
 the councillors, whose looks to one another betrayed 
 their fears, the King was half led, half carried, to his 
 
 1 The word for barbarism is ** pralo-mi-mamee" "only able to 
 count I, 2, 3." 
 
 2 The word was a long compound, "sitting alone at night.'' 
 
44 2 Scalntab. [CHAP. 
 
 palace, the populace remaining in profound ignorance 
 of the sudden seizure by illness of their beloved 
 sovereign. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE DEATH OF THE KING. 
 
 EVEN during the days of his last illness, Realmah's 
 exertions for the good of the kingdom were unremit- 
 ting. The heir to the throne, Andarvi-Milcar, who 
 loved the King fervently, and who, perhaps, of all the 
 men in the city least desired his death, was constantly 
 with him, receiving his last instructions. And here 
 the exceeding sagacity of Realmah may be noticed ; 
 for though he spoke much of what had been his 
 designs for the future, he spoke more of the men who 
 were to carry them out, giving to Andarvi, even in the 
 minutest particulars, his opinion of the characters, 
 not only of the principal officers of the kingdom, but 
 even of those lesser magistrates who had considerable 
 power in distant settlements. 
 
 It was a curious thing, as illustrating the King's 
 mechanical skill and love of science, that while he 
 was ill he had invented an ingenious arrangement by 
 which the sponges containing nutritious liquid could 
 be conveyed to his lips by his slightly moving a par- 
 ticular string or wire. 
 
 During his last illness he saw much of his wives. 
 Realmah had really been very good to the Varnah. 
 On ordinary occasions, and when his mind was full of 
 business, he could not pretend to sympathise with her 
 in her petty cares and hopes, but every now and then 
 he made a great effort to please her. He would send 
 for some rare product or some rare work of art to a 
 
xvi.] euntaf. 443 
 
 distant part of his dominions, and would then confide 
 to the Varnah what he had done, pretending all the 
 while that he was doubtful whether he should get it, 
 though he knew full well that no one ever refused the 
 great King anything he asked for. Then he would 
 charm the Varnah by talking about the expected 
 present, as if he were deeply interested in it, and he 
 would contrive that it should come upon some festal 
 day, especially upon the birthday of her departed 
 mother ; for the mother's birthday was always held 
 in great reverence. Realmah really liked the Varnah, 
 admired her skill in household management, was 
 pleased with her orderliness (though he had none of 
 that quality himself), never forgot the aid he had 
 received from her during the siege, and believed that 
 in her way she was attached to him. Indeed, to the 
 court jester, the only man whom he allowed a glimpse 
 into his inmost soul, he would say, " I am the Varnah's 
 choicest possession, and she will mourn for me, poor 
 thing, when I am gone, as no one else will mourn. 
 In truth I am afraid lest then all the other possessions 
 should lose favour in her sight." And when she came 
 into his presence, as he was dying, he would take her 
 hand, and speak kindly to her, and tell her how to 
 guide her household and her wealth. And the poor 
 Varnah was astonished to find that even in those 
 matters in which she had thought her husband but a 
 good-natured child, he was her master a wise and 
 sagacious man, full of foresight. 
 
 To the beautiful Talora, too, though less loving, he 
 was kind ; and she was astonished to find that he 
 read the utmost depths of her soul, counselling her, 
 notwithstanding her protests, as to whom she might 
 marry hereafter, and what alliance she might with 
 least loss of royal dignity advantageously contract ; 
 and Talora wept bitterly, discerning, perhaps for the 
 first time, what a great man she had married, and 
 
444 amaf. [CHAP. 
 
 what a small part of her heart she had given to 
 him. The intensity of this feeling on her part may 
 best be shown by the fact that it was three long 
 years before Athlah could win the still beautiful 
 Talora to be his bride, and that Realmah was never 
 mentioned but that Talora blushed and sighed and 
 looked sad, when she thought how great a soul had 
 nearly been her own, and what she might have made 
 of the love of a man who had so large a capacity 
 for loving. 
 
 But, poor woman, she was somewhat mistaken, for 
 it was not in her nature to comprehend the love that 
 the Ainah had called forth in Realmah, and what 
 immeasurable regrets and infinite longings of his had 
 been buried in her tomb. 
 
 On the ninth day after the festival, at three in the 
 morning, when the air was coldest, a deep groan 
 from the King summoned his drowsy attendants. 
 He started up in bed. In a loud voice he said, 
 " Preserve my kingdom ; be faithful to Andarvi- 
 Milcar. I go to meet her for ever for ever ; light, 
 more, more light" And saying this, the great King 
 sank back upon his couch, and with a sigh poured 
 forth his spirit. 
 
 The next morning there was sorrow and lamenta- 
 tion in almost every house in Abibah ; and they 
 mourned for him as for a father. 
 
 His funeral was magnificent. They raised a great 
 mound for him, which, amidst the changes of the 
 earth's surface, is still visible in the wood that lies 
 adjacent to those waters which were once a great 
 lake, and are now but a small one, and which mound 
 still puzzles the learned amongst the antiquarians. 
 
 What a strange memorial is that round, coarse, 
 undescriptive thing, a mound, to tell of heroic deeds, 
 grand thoughts, and unbounded suffering ! And yet 
 how often in the world's history is it all that does 
 
xvi.] amar. 445 
 
 remain to commemorate these deeds, these thoughts, 
 and this suffering. Perhaps, too, all that will remain 
 of us in after-ages, and of our intricate civilization, 
 will be a few such mounds, and some collected heaps 
 of rubbish, to be pored over by the learned men of a 
 new generation, occupying a little portion of that 
 surface of the earth which is, after all, but one vast 
 unrecorded burial-ground. 
 
 Ellesmere. And so poor Realmah is dead ! You all 
 think me a very hard man, but if there is anything in this 
 world that I have a horror of, it is my friends dying, whether 
 in real life, or even in fiction. 
 
 I have become quite accustomed to Milverton's droning 
 on about Realmah, and thought that it was to last for the 
 greater part of my natural life. I must not say that he is a 
 friend in fiction, and not an entire reality. As for Mrs. 
 Milverton, Lady Ellesmere, Sandy, and even Milverton 
 himself, they have the firmest belief in their Realmah. 
 You could not offer them a greater insult than to suppose 
 for a moment that such a being as Realmah had not existed, 
 and that he had not done all these fine things. They get 
 together in the study, and I hear them in my room over- 
 head buzzing away, and I know that it is all talk about 
 Realmah. I have very little doubt that Blanche and 
 Mildred had a good sisterly cry together (nothing com- 
 forts a woman so much as having a good cry) over " poor 
 dear Realmah's death." 
 
 Sir Arthur. I agree with Ellesmere, it is hateful to come 
 to the end of anything, or anybody. 
 
 There is one thing I am very curious to know ; and that 
 is, whether Andarvi-Milcar, Realmah's successor, fulfilled 
 Realmah's wish, and gave up, or demolished, the fortress of 
 Ravala-Mamee. 
 
 Milverton. He did ; but whether he was successful or 
 not in so doing, I do not know. I suppose that in some 
 succeeding age the Northmen did come down again, and 
 make an end of the Lake-cities. 
 
446 Jtalmg| [CHAP. 
 
 I feel, now that it is all written, that I have omitted to 
 dwell upon many things and persons that I ought to have 
 described, but I did not like to worry you with details. 
 For instance, I should like to have told you about the King's 
 jester, whom I have alluded to, but never described. 
 
 He was a very clever man, but excessively indolent. He 
 never cared to take much interest in public affairs. He had 
 the right of accompanying the King everywhere, and being 
 near him whether at a council or a feast. Sometimes at 
 a council he said very shrewd things, and was really of use. 
 At other times he took no interest in the business in hand, 
 but all the time played a game with himself called kinwee, 
 which was played with fishes' bones. He was very fond of 
 Realmah, and followed him about like a dog. He delighted 
 in witnessing so much energy and activity, and felt almost 
 as if he himself was energetic and active. He kept the 
 King's secrets well, and that endeared him to Realmah. 
 His mischievous propensities plagued the good Varnah a 
 great deal, and he delighted to tease her, but she bore 
 with him most kindly for the King's sake. 
 
 Ellesmere. Just as Mrs. Milverton tolerates me for 
 Milverton's sake. 
 
 Milverton. It was very comical sometimes to see the 
 jester at a council, when he was in one of his queer moods. 
 He would throw down a large number of these fishes' bones 
 on the table, close to Realmah, then make a grab at them, 
 shutting his eyes ; then say, " Odd or even ? " and retire 
 into a corner to count the bones, nobody of course paying 
 any attention to him. At last he would get tired of play- 
 ing by himself, and would resolve to bring Realmah into 
 the game. The poor jester did not dare to go near any- 
 body else, so he would whisper persuasively in the King's 
 ear, "Loftiness, my dear, do let us have a bet, it's so 
 dull." 
 
 Ellesmere. I thoroughly sympathise with this poor man. 
 Everybody does so over-explain everything to me. I am so 
 tired sometimes of everybody. 
 
 Milverton. And the King would return the whisper, "Go 
 into the corner, throw ten times, even bet of two shells 
 there are more odds than evens. Play fair, don't cheat 
 
447 
 
 your poor King, he has always enough to do with his 
 shells." And so the jester was kept quiet for a time. 
 
 The jester might have served the new King, but he would 
 not do so. After the funeral of Realmah, the poor jester 
 sadly followed the Varnah home to the house which had 
 been Realmah's in his earliest days, and where the Varnah 
 meant to dwell for the remainder of her life. He (the jester) 
 had never asked leave to live with Her Loftiness, nor had 
 she made the offer to him to do so, but she would have 
 taken care of a dog (though she disliked dogs) which 
 Realmah had loved, and she was secretly delighted that 
 the jester had elected to live with her. 
 
 Two more uncongenial souls could not have been imagined 
 than Her Loftiness and the poor jester. She could not 
 understand his wit (he was really very witty), and she 
 detested his coarse fun and his practical jokes, but had 
 endured them most kindly for Realmah's sake. Realmah, 
 too, was not the man to be amused by practical jokes, 
 but he liked to see the people about him laugh, and be 
 amused with anything, for he said, " Then they do not 
 busy themselves too much with the affairs of my govern- 
 ment." 
 
 Ellesmere. The poor jester ! I pity him from the bottom 
 of my heart. I know full well what it is to live with people 
 who do not quite understand one. None of you, except 
 perhaps Milverton, quite understand me not even always 
 Lady Ellesmere. 
 
 Milverton. Be comforted, Ellesmere. It was not long 
 before the jester had a companion. 
 
 The faithful Omki had, in obedience to Realmah's dying 
 command, attached himself to the new King. But he could 
 not take any real interest in public affairs, or in the new 
 King. He became utterly listless and depressed, so, at the 
 end of a year, he went to Andarvi-Milcar, and said, " My 
 lord and king, Omki's heart is not a big heart, and it has 
 not room for more than one love. I am the man who 
 was in the same cradle with the great King, and I cannot 
 love anybody else. Let thy servant go, for he is stupid 
 and useless." Andarvi-Milcar consented ; and Omki. also, 
 went and took up his abode with the Varnah. Her Lofti- 
 
|LeaIma{r, [CHAP. 
 
 ness rejoiced that she had now two feckless, listless, human- 
 beings to look after, who had loved her Realmah. 
 
 See what a dangerous thing it is to come within the 
 influence of a very great man, or of a very admirable woman. 
 If you have not a great capacity for loving, they take all the 
 love out of you at once, and make the rest of the world 
 uninteresting to you. 
 
 These two, the jester and Omki, would sit in the porch 
 before the house of Her Loftiness, the jester playing his 
 game of odd-and-even by himself, while Omki sat silent, 
 full of sad memories of Realmah ; and then an old man 
 would join them, and pass the sunny hours of the day in 
 their company. 
 
 This old man was Condore. His chief happiness con- 
 sisted in talking with the jester and with Omki about the 
 late King ; and there was a great deal of talk, in which you 
 could hear the words, " and he said to me," and " I said 
 to him ; " and then they went through the strange scenes 
 which had occurred on Realmah's coming to the throne, 
 and on the defeat of the Northmen, and on the sham fight, 
 and on the last days of Realmah's public appearance. 
 
 Thus these three men passed the remainder of their lives. 
 Condore lived to a great age, for the daily exercise of criti- 
 cism is not a thing which rapidly exhausts the vital powers. 
 
 Ellesmere. I am glad at least to find that, according to 
 Milverton, I am to have a long life. 
 
 Milverton. There was a councillor whom I forgot to 
 mention at the time when I described to you the rest of 
 Realmah's councillors. I thought of this omission after- 
 wards, but imagined you would not care to have it remedied. 
 However, I should like to describe him to you now, for his 
 was a very peculiar form of mind, but one not unknown in 
 modern times. 
 
 His name was Pimmenee. Like the other councillors, 
 he was a very clever man. He was the most observant 
 person amongst the Sheviri of natural phenomena; and, 
 in general, knew more facts than anybody else. He would 
 make a statement very boldly, and apparently well founded 
 upon facts. But then there would come such a string of 
 exceptions that the original statement would seem to be 
 
gcalmab. 449 
 
 broken down by them, and at last you felt as if you had 
 nothing to rely upon. 
 
 Realmah would try and bring him back to his original 
 statement by repeating it; but Pimmenee would never 
 admit that the repetition was correct. He had not said 
 quite this. That was not the exact word he had used ; 
 or, if he had, it would not quite bear out his meaning. 
 
 For instance, a question would arise where the summei* 
 camp should be placed, and Pimmenee would at first pro- 
 nounce very decidedly against a particular spot as being 
 near a morass. Then there would come a host of exceptions 
 to the statement there were morasses and morasses. It 
 might even be an advantage to be near a morass. And so 
 he would go on, fining down his original statement till at 
 last hardly anything remained of it. 
 
 Ellesmere. Is he not a' little like two of the other fellows, 
 namely, Lariska and Delaimah-Daree ? 
 
 Milverton. No : there is where you are so often deluded 
 in estimating men, and fail to get the most out of them 
 summing them up under some one general form of con- 
 demnation : saying, for instance, that they are not practical. 
 
 Now, Lariska was simply too argumentative : Delaimah- 
 Daree too resourceful, and therefore too inconclusive; while 
 this man, Pimmenee, was too exceptive. To get the good 
 that was really to be got out of these men, you must have 
 mastered the peculiar bent of each of their minds, which 
 prevented each one of them, taken by himself, from 
 becoming a perfect councillor; but which did not pre- 
 vent their being of great use as individual members of a 
 council. 
 
 I should like to give you some of the proverbs of the 
 Sheviri. These were, in after-ages, all attributed to Realmah ; 
 and some of them, I really think, were his. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I should like to hear them. There is nothing 
 in all literature more interesting to me than proverbs, and 
 the fact that they are no man's children makes them more 
 interesting. I do not know a single instance, except in the 
 Bible, where you can say for certain that such a proverb 
 was made by such a man. 
 
 Milverton. Well then, here are some of them : 
 G G 
 
45 ama. [CHAP. 
 
 The viper will stand upon the tip of his tail to make himselj 
 agreeable in good company. 
 
 The crane stands upon one leg, in heavenly meditation ; but 
 all the while he is looking sharply after his fish. 
 
 When the eyes and the lips lie, look to the hands and the 
 feet. 
 
 The prudent man (literally, the man who has eyes in the 
 back of his head) cares more whom he is with, than even 
 what he does. 
 
 Four fishes smelt at the bait and turned their tails to it ; 
 one fish came by and swallowed it. (The advantage of a 
 council.) 
 
 Before the journey is over, the dog has run twice the distance. 
 (Applied to a man who does not go directly to the point ; 
 but wanders hither and thither like a dog.) 
 
 Make the four salutations to a friend every day. (This 
 alludes to the four bows that were made to foreign ambas- 
 sadors by all who met them ; and the proverb means this, 
 Keep up always the highest forms of courtesy with your 
 friends.) 
 
 Jealousy kisses Us left hand, because the right hand caught 
 the fish. 
 
 The man you hate cannot carry his food to his mouth, but 
 you hate him more for his way of doing so. 
 
 The ghosts of snails get into their shells (money) by night, 
 and go, for company, where there are most shells, (i.e. Money 
 makes money.) 
 
 Eukee ! Eukee ! Eukee ! but, wife, the salt fish will do. 
 (" Eukee " is a solemn word addressed to the gods ; and the 
 proverb alludes to the hypocrite, who addresses the gods 
 fervently, but sacrifices to them only salt fish.) 
 
 The tears of a chief cause sore eyes to all other chiefs. 
 
xvi.] Jiealnutfr. 451 
 
 The water sends you back (reflects you), so do all men and 
 women. 
 
 Better be quite blind than see one side only of everything. 
 
 If you will do the thing that has not been done before, first 
 hide all the stones that are in the streets of the city. 
 
 To the tiger his claws ; to the serpent her venom ; to the eagle 
 his talons; to the rat his teeth; and to men and women 
 calumny : the good God gives weapons to all. 
 
 The Sheviri cursed the ram ; but the patie?it rain ivent on 
 raining, and the earth became green. 
 
 Say it often ; men, as well as parrots, will say it too. 
 
 If you slay your adversary, are you sure you have done him 
 any harm ? 
 
 The ants march in one line, and overrun kingdoms. (An 
 argument for unity and order.) 
 
 The echo says nothing of itself; so, the people. 
 
 The clever lizard leaves its tail in your hand. (This was a 
 favourite saying of the King when he was urging com 
 promises on his councillors.) 
 
 A lie lasts for a day : but it may be the day. (This, in the 
 original language, is really a most effective proverb. The 
 articles " a " and " the " are not expressed directly, but are 
 included in the substantives. A day, i.e. an ordinary day, 
 is Tala. The day, i.e. the day upon which some important 
 decision is arrived at, is Talammah; and so the proverb 
 runs in the original language, Strag (a lie) marlt Tala ; pol 
 kree Talammah.} 
 
 When you want to sell the blunt hatchet, be the first to say 
 that it is blunt. 
 
 How wise the clever men would be if they could understand 
 the foolish ! 
 
 G G 2 
 
45 2 mlmal. CHAP. 
 
 All make the four bows to yesterday. (Meaning, I sup- 
 pose, that all must submit to what we call now " the logic 
 of facts.") 
 
 One wise man knew the secret way into the city ; but all 
 said, " Why should we follow one man ?" 
 
 The king had a friend before he was king. 
 
 Only the quite deaf hear praises always of themselves. 
 
 If the spider barked like a dog, would he catch flies ? 
 
 He who looks down, gathers shells (i.e. money) ; he who 
 looks up, sighs for stars, but they do not come to him. 
 
 The tiger that you look at will not give you the death-stroke. 
 
 A wise man said a word too much : that word was the 
 word of a fool. 
 
 While the lightning lasted, two bad men were friends, 
 
 Ellesmere. Some of the proverbs are not bad. I like 
 "the clever lizard" one, and "the dog that runs twice the 
 distance." 
 
 There, again though, how hard men are upon dogs. 
 Why, men, metaphorically speaking, run ten times the dis- 
 tance ! Then I like "the four fishes" one. I have myself 
 observed that it is much easier to delude fish when they 
 come singly, than when they come three or four together, 
 and are fishes in council. 
 
 There are several of the other proverbs, Milverton, that 
 are far too modern in their substance, and that you could 
 never persuade me were uttered by any savage, however 
 much you may try to make him out a Solomon. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I like all of them very much. 
 
 Ellesmere. Of course you do. As I have said before, 
 one never gets an author to speak disrespectfully of another 
 author in his presence. Now I'll give you a proverb which 
 shall be worth something. Never believe a man when Jit 
 talks about anything which he thoroughly understands. 
 
xvi.] amj. 453 
 
 Mauleverer. That is the most impudent proverb I have 
 ever heard. 
 
 Ellesmere. Impudent it may be ; but true, it undoubtedly is. 
 
 When a man understands anything very well, he generally 
 has an especial repute for it, and he speaks with an eye to 
 that repute of his. Sir Arthur being an eminent man of 
 letters, his public opinion of other men of letters is not 
 worth that [snapping his fingers]. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I shall respond to Ellesmere by giving him 
 a proverb, or rather a saying, which I met with the other 
 day, and which has delighted me beyond measure. It was 
 in that recent work of Sir Henry Bulwer. Some French- 
 man said, " Oest un avantage terrible de ri avoir rien fait ; 
 mats il ne faut pas en abuser" What a wonderful lesson 
 that is for some critics ! Eh, Ellesmere ? 
 
 Ellesmere. I don't seem to feel it personally, but it cer- 
 tainly is not bad. It is indeed a tremendous advantage to 
 have done nothing, when one is oneself the subject of 
 criticism. 
 
 Milverton. Well, now that "Realmah" is ended, all that 
 I have got to say to you is, whether you have done any- 
 thing or whether you have not done anything (in which 
 latter case you will certainly be in the best position for 
 criticism), do not trouble yourselves with criticising, but do 
 consider whether we may not draw some lesson from this 
 savage chief as to the management of our own political 
 affairs. Only promise me that, and I shall be amply re- 
 warded for any pains that I have taken in telling you the 
 truthful story of his life. 
 
 [Here the conversation ended, and we went our 
 separate ways.] 
 
454 tama. [CHAP. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE holidays were coming to an end, a melancholy 
 fact which, as may be imagined, we did not at all like 
 to contemplate. 
 
 It was breakfast time on the Monday morning pre- 
 ceding that on which we should have to return to 
 town. After we had sat down, Sir John, as usual, was 
 the first to begin talking. 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh dear, dear ! 'Tis sad to think that, after 
 one more revolving week, I shall have to go back to town 
 with Lady Ellesmere, to be entrusted to her tender mercies, 
 and to take leave of Fairy and of the water-rats, of whose 
 bright little eyes and inquiring countenances I see so much 
 when I go fishing ; and of Milverten, too, and of all the 
 other intelligent creatures with whom I am at present 
 domiciled. Let us make the most of this week. 
 
 Milverton. I am preparing, at Sir Arthur's particular 
 desire, an essay for you for next Saturday. 
 
 Ellesmere. And. that is what the fellow calls " making 
 the most of this week." However, it is all right. The 
 blackness of Black Monday is greatly diminished in inten- 
 sity when the preceding Saturday is made of a dark brown 
 colour by having to listen to an essay. 
 
 Milverton. But this will be an essay that you will like, 
 I think. 
 
 Ellesmere. That is what you always hold out. The par- 
 ticular thing that you are at work upon is always to give 
 life a new savour. It is the one subject which mankind 
 is pining to hear discussed. 
 
 Milverton. It is to be an abrupt, disjointed essay. It 
 is to sum up, as it were, our discussion, of late, of many 
 subjects. There will be much that is commonplace in it ; 
 much that you have often heard me talk about before; 
 
455 
 
 much that you yourselves have said; and, perhaps, there 
 will be a few new things. I really believe it will be the 
 last I shall ever write. 
 
 Hereupon Sir John muttered something which 
 sounded very like a grace after meat ; but Lady 
 Ellesmere put her hand upon his mouth and stopped 
 his muttering. When she removed it, however, he 
 began talking. 
 
 Ellesmere. No: I don't believe it. Placards up ! " Signer 
 Doncatelli, or Herr von Klinkel, has consented, at the urgent 
 request of his many friends and admirers, to give one moie 
 representation, in which he will appear in his w r ell known 
 part of, &c. &c." 
 
 No one seems to know when to leave off. Poor dear 
 Sir Walter Scott ! even he, shrewd man though he was, must 
 write " Count Robert of Paris." 
 
 Pooh ! don't tell me. I know but too well the nature 
 of all you fellows who are accustomed to exhibit, and to 
 be pointed out as monsters by the finger of the passers-by 
 (monstrari digito pr<ztereuntium\ whether you are statesmen, 
 actors, or authors. You never can be quiet unless you are 
 upon your stage. There will no more be a last essay by 
 Milverton, while he is alive, than there will be a last muffin 
 baked as long as there are people who have the rude diges- 
 tion to consume muffins. Don't hold out false hopes : there 
 is nothing more cruel. 
 
 Milverton. I shall not reply to Ellesmere's sneers. He 
 will be sure, after all, 10 take a box for Lady Ellesmere 
 and himself, to hear Doncatelli. 
 
 What I want, however, to consult you about for I am 
 very much puzzled myself about it is, what title we shall 
 take. The essay will consist of endeavours to show how 
 hur.ian life may be improved. I do not for a moment 
 agree with Mauleverer that we are at a standpoint of misery, 
 as he imagines ; but, no doubt, there is a great deal that 
 is very miserable in the world, and within our power, I 
 think, to ameliorate. 
 
45 6 Jjeamsjf, [CHAP. 
 
 Cranmer. What should you say to this for a title ? " On 
 the improvement of things in general." 
 
 Milverton. Too vague, Mr. Cranrner. 
 
 Sir Arthur. " On the improvement of the human race ?" 
 
 Ellesmere. That's right; lug in "the human race:" that 
 is sure to please Milverton. What says Sandy? 
 
 Johnson. " On physical and mental development, with a 
 view to the future welfare of the world." 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, you pedantic Scotch boy ! we can't have 
 that. 
 
 Maulevertr. " On the possible, but very far from pro- 
 bable, diminution of the extreme wretchedness of man- 
 kind." 
 
 Milverton. No. I can't accept that ; I do not begin by 
 looking at things from your point of view, Mauleverer. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. " On consolation." 
 
 Ellesmere. Pour out a cup of tea for me directly, please, 
 Mrs. Milverton. She will well water the teapot, I know, to 
 spite me, if I say what I think of her title before my cup 
 is poured out. 
 
 My dear woman, it is not " consolation" that we are going 
 to write about. It is to prevent the necessity for your 
 rubbishing consolation. We all know that you women 
 think you are such " dabs," as we used to say at Eton, 
 at consoling. It is not bolts and bars for the stable door 
 that we are going to provide, after the donkey has been 
 stolen ; but we are here assembled, or rather shall be next 
 Saturday, to prevent the stealing of donkeys. 
 
 And now, Lady Ellesmere, what wise suggestion are you 
 going to make for a title ? 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. "On mankind being made less pro- 
 voking." 
 
 Ellesmere. What would that do for the solace of the 
 world, if womarikjtidi were left as they are? For surely 
 the art of provoking is their own. 
 
 I see you will have to come to me for a title. I boldly 
 suggest this one : " On the art of making men comfortable." 
 
 In this Act of Parliament, or, if you like it, essay, the 
 word "men" shall include men, women, dogs, horses, cows, 
 water-rats, black-beetles, and all other animals and insects. 
 
xvn.1 anraj. 457 
 
 Milverton. Your title is rather long, Ellesmere, especially 
 if your interpretation of the word " men " be added to it. 
 
 Ellesmere. Not a bit too long. The Act, I mean the 
 essay, shall always be referred to as "The Comfortable." 
 That will please Sir Arthur. 
 
 Sir Arthur. It will show what a forgiving disposition 
 I have, and how fond I am of " The Magnanimous," that 
 I confess I agree with Ellesmere, and am quite content that 
 his title, in its full length, should be adopted. 
 
 Milverton. So be it then ; and Mr. Johnson and I will 
 do our best to get ready by next Saturday. I shall want a 
 good deal of indulgence from you. 
 
 Ellesmere (tapping his breast). This is the shop, as Mr. 
 Squeers would say, to come to for indulgence. 
 
 Here the conversation about the essay ended. Mr. 
 Milverton and I worked very hard during the whole 
 week, and succeeded in getting our materials ready 
 by Saturday. 
 
 That Saturday was a lovely day. Indeed, it was 
 one of those calm, warm, bright days, which we some- 
 times have in England, and in which are combined 
 almost all the beauties of summer and winter. There 
 had been a frost in the early morning ; and a white 
 rime was still upon the trees, marking out each spray 
 and twig most beautifully. We took our places in 
 the summer-house in the garden that overlooks a 
 vast expanse of country. Sir John Ellesmere thus 
 began : 
 
 Ellesmere. Who shall say we understand anything about 
 " The Comfortable," when we take our places in this summer- 
 house to listen to a shivering essay which might have been 
 delivered to us in a comfortable study ? 
 
 Milverton. Shall we go back then? 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, by no means ! 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. That is so like John. He will object 
 to anything, even when he likes it himself, merely for the 
 sake of making, or, as he calls it, taking, an objection. 
 
!\ca:Ima|r. [CHAP. 
 
 Ellesmcre. Don't interrupt, Lady Ellesmere, and waste 
 time. Don't you see that Milverton is wild to begin, and 
 that there is an alarming mass of paper in his hands to be 
 got through before we shall have any comfort ? 
 
 Mr. Milverton commenced reading : " On the Art 
 of making Men Comfortable ; the word ' Men ' to 
 include Men, Women, Dogs, Horses, Cows, Water- 
 rats, Black-beetles, and all other animals and insects." 
 
 Milverton. You see I have adopted your title literally, 
 for so you willed that I should. And now, first, I am not 
 going to read an essay, but to make a speech. I shall 
 speak to you in a most familiar way ; and, moreover, shall 
 consider that you recollect a great deal that I have already 
 said, so that I may merely have to deal with it by allusion. 
 
 It is a very great difficulty to introduce anything 
 like method into this vast and complicated subject. 
 What I shall do is this : I shall first consider all the 
 main points which bear upon a man from without : 
 I shall then take him to his home and see how 
 he is to be made comfortable there : afterwards, I 
 shall conclude with several general reflections, which 
 will have for their tendency to show how man and 
 other animals (I do not neglect Ellesmere's "rider") 
 should be made more comfortable. 
 
 [Here Mr. Milverton spoke upon the topics of 
 Government, Education, Religion, War, and Railway 
 Management. I omit all that he said upon these 
 subjects, because otherwise the essay, or rather the 
 speech, would stretch to an immoderate length. He 
 spoke for nearly forty minutes ; and, as he speaks 
 very rapidly, the speech contained a great deal ot 
 matter which it is quite impossible for me to give 
 you. At a future time I may take some oppor- 
 
459 
 
 tunity of doing so. He then proceeded, and said as 
 follows : ] 
 
 I descend now to questions that may be considered 
 of lower importance than those I have discussed, but 
 which are nevertheless of great importance as regards 
 the comfort of mankind. 
 
 I go first to the consideration of their dwellings. 
 These are at present deplorable. We have not 
 made any advance (indeed I think our movement has 
 been retrograde in this respect) since the time of the 
 Romans. The main objects are for the most part 
 neglected. How dampness should be avoided ? how 
 noise should be subdued ? how fresh air should be 
 provided? how smoke should be carried off? seem 
 to be unimportant questions, so that the exterior is 
 kept according to the style most in favour with the 
 architect. 
 
 The waste that there is in this matter is most 
 surprising. If houses were well built, there would 
 be very little expense for repairs, for painting, and, 
 perhaps, for fire insurance. We have excellent 
 materials ; we make hardly any use of them : and 
 there is scarcely a house in which any provision is 
 made for the exceptional events, either festive or 
 calamitous, which are sure to occur at some time 
 or other, in every household. 
 
 Then look at the waste in decoration, in furniture, 
 in knick-knacks of all kinds. I often take an in- 
 dividual room, and I say to myself, " If I had the 
 money which that foolish cornice has cost, which that 
 hideous centre-piece in the ceiling has cost, which 
 that painful furniture, constructed so as to retain the 
 utmost amount of dust, has cost, which those knick- 
 knacks, which amuse one for two or three minutes 
 and are a trouble ever afterwards, have cost, the room 
 could be so enlarged and improved that the people 
 who inhabit it would be far more comfortable." 
 
4-6 iSUftlntftjr, [CHAP. 
 
 The last thing architects and builders generally 
 seem to consider is, that the room is really to be 
 inhabited. I have seen the whole wing of a great 
 palace or castle so spoilt for the want of a little addi- 
 tional space, that there was not sufficient room for 
 the furniture which would be imperatively required in 
 the twenty or thirty apartments of that wing. There 
 has been no space in these rooms (which people are 
 not only supposed to sleep in by night, but to live 
 in by day) for a sofa, and for a writing-table. 
 
 Again, no attention has been paid to climate. It 
 has been forgotten that there are a good many rainy 
 days in Great Britain in the course of the year, and 
 that the British spring is not altogether a balmy 
 season. In this respect our ancestors were much 
 wiser than we are, and understood what is called 
 " Gardenesque architecture." Now, one often sees a 
 great white staring house situated in the midst of a 
 great park. Nobody seems ever to have considered 
 that people might like to have some walking exercise 
 or to breathe some fresh air without being exposed 
 to inclement weather in that spacious park. I have 
 often seen that the needless, foolish, and ugly de- 
 corations of two or three of the principal rooms 
 would have provided a beautiful colonnade like 
 our cloisters at Trinity, in which the sickly and 
 the young might enjoy the sun, and have the advan- 
 tage of fresh air and exercise throughout the winter 
 days. 
 
 The above are trifling things to speak of, but, 
 while we are discussing "The Comfortable," they 
 are scarcely out of place. 
 
 As to the cottages of the poor, they are outrageous. 
 Often constructed without the means of drainage 
 the walls in some instances being built up against the 
 earth, the outlets being exposed without any protec- 
 tion against the east winds they are really nothing 
 
better than nests for fever, and well-devised traps for 
 rheumatism and consumption. 
 
 Here comes in that sad neglect of admirable 
 materials for building which I have before com- 
 mented upon. Terra-cotta, slates, and tiles might 
 be used with the greatest advantage in such construc- 
 tions. In fact, a house, and still more a cottage, 
 ought to be impregnable to damp throughout, and 
 capable of thorough ventilation. Will you have the 
 kindness to show me any such constructions from the 
 highest to the lowest class of buildings ? 
 
 And now look at our buildings in London. I am 
 very sensitive, I acknowledge, to noise ; but I do not 
 believe I am altogether singular in this respect. Now, 
 you know, one is absolutely dependent upon one's 
 neighbour to the right and to the left. We enjoy 
 smoke from their chimneys. We have the pleasure 
 of listening to their daughters practising the first 
 scales in music ; we partake, uninvited, of the clamour, 
 if not of the enjoyment, of their feasts. 
 
 But I must not dwell much more on this subject : 
 all I wish is, that when people are building houses 
 they would not forget that these houses are to be 
 inhabited, and would act accordingly. If half the 
 thought which is given to obscure questions in 
 theology or metaphysics had been given to the 
 question of making men more comfortable by build- 
 ing better habitations for them, what a much happier 
 and more endurable world it would have been. 
 
 When Sir Walter Scott died, and critics were com- 
 menting upon his works, one of the best criticisms was 
 to this effect : " Shakspeare builds up his characters 
 from within to without. Their coats, dresses, and 
 external paraphernalia of any kind are the last things 
 about which he gives any indication ; whereas Sir 
 Walter commences from without, and his heroes or 
 heroines are greatly connected in your mind with their 
 
462 |iealirafr. [CHAP. 
 
 - . _ _&- 
 
 outside paraphernalia." There was some little truth 
 in this, though I think it was much too severe on Sir 
 Walter ; but I have often thought that we mostly do 
 what was complained of in Sir Walter, and nearly 
 always attend to the outside first. There is charm- 
 ing Gothic architecture, as seen from the outside, in 
 which the Gothic architect, neglecting the improve- 
 ments which have taken place in materials since the 
 time of the Goths, gives you foolish windows and 
 dark passages, and every evil with which the Goths 
 were contented as indeed they were by their igno- 
 rance obliged to be contented to endure. 
 
 The same error is to be found in those men who 
 live for the outer world instead of for home. This 
 brings me naturally to the subject of ostentation, the 
 direst enemy of comfort. No, I will not put it down 
 exactly as ostentation, but as the doing of things 
 because others do them, whether you like them or 
 not, and whether they are suitable or not, to you 
 or your means. I think I will call it imitation, and 
 say that imitation is the direst enemy of comfort. 
 Women, I am sorry to say, are greatly to blame in 
 this matter. It is always an unanswerable argument 
 in their minds that other people do anything. In 
 fact, women are the only real and sound Conserva- 
 tives, or rather Tories, in the world ; and one great 
 end that we shall gain from their education, if ever 
 a better education is given to them, is this, that 
 we shall have much less conventionalism to con- 
 tend with. 
 
 Now I proceed to the next point, viz., as to what 
 should be done inside a house to make it a happy 
 and comfortable home. Of course, the great danger, 
 the pressing danger, of domestic life is its familiarity 
 mark you, there is immense pleasure in this familiarity, 
 but I think we might have all the pleasure without 
 the mischief. I recur to a few of the points which I 
 
463 
 
 have often dwelt upon before. Never scold for little 
 things and for things in which there is no intention to 
 do wrong : people don't mean to break glass or china, 
 or to spill the grease ; and yet you often hear a child 
 or a servant reproved for some accident as if it had 
 been done out of malice prepense. 
 
 Never ridicule other people's tastes, especially the 
 tastes of those who live with you, or any of your 
 neighbours' tastes, unless those tastes are absolutely 
 noxious and mischievous. 
 
 Cultivate the great art of leaving people alone, 
 even those whom you think you have a right to 
 direct in the minutest particular. 
 
 Now here I am going to say a most important 
 thing, and I beg your attention to it. 
 
 Praise those with whom you live, if they really 
 deserve it. Do not be silent upon their merits, for 
 you should cultivate their reasonable self-esteem. If 
 they have merits, other people strangers will tell 
 them of it, and they think it is unkind of you who 
 have lived with them, and ought to love them, not to 
 have recognised their merits. A person shall live 
 with a person his junior, and during the whole of his 
 life shall never have told that junior of his good 
 qualities or his merits ; and it is only perhaps when 
 that first person dies, that the other finds out that, 
 during the time they had lived together, he had been 
 thoroughly appreciated ; but, unfortunately, it has 
 been a silent appreciation. 
 
 Domestic comfort is the very core of happy life. 
 Now what perfection it would be if, in domestic life, 
 the courtesy and civility which strangers show to us 
 were combined with the affection and the absence of 
 restraint which belong to domesticity ! 
 
 Now I am going to insist upon a point which might 
 be thought very trivial, but which yet has something 
 in it. Do not merely endeavour to be joyous and 
 
4 6 4 |UaIma|* [CHAP. 
 
 pleasant with those with whom you live, but even 
 to be agreeable to look at ; in fact, I say it boldly, 
 although you may laugh at me, try and look your 
 best for your own people as well as for the stranger. 
 
 [Here there came in a somewhat long statement 
 about communism, which I am sure would not be 
 very interesting to most people, and which I omit. 
 Then the subject of wealth was introduced by Sir 
 Arthur. Mr. Milverton proceeded : ] 
 
 Riches ! In any discourse about human happiness, 
 something must be said upon this subject. Every- 
 body admits that money is the source of all evil, and 
 everybody tries to get as much money as he or she 
 can. Of course, seriously speaking, wealth is a good 
 thing. That we should have plenty of corn, of coal, 
 of wool, of cotton, and of cattle, is before all things 
 necessary if we are to be comfortable ; but what is a 
 bad thing is, that too much respect should be paid, 
 and too much honour given, to merely wealthy 
 people. 
 
 " The learned pate ducks to the golden fool : 
 All is oblique." 
 
 Now instead of its being a thing which is prima 
 facie for a man, it may be argued that it is rather 
 prima facie against him, that he is rich : it is a fact 
 which he has to account for, and often the account he 
 may have to give is anything but creditable to him. 
 What may be called the legitimate influence of riches 
 is surely enough. That a rich man has the services of 
 other men and animals in every way at his command 
 is surely power enough. You have, doubtless, heard 
 me tell the story of a dignitary in the Romish Church, 
 one of the most actively benevolent of men a sort 
 of Borromeo ; and he was descanting among his 
 friends about the worthlessness of worldly goods, and 
 
XVH.J liealtnafj, 465 
 
 he concluded by saying, "All, all, is vanity except a 
 carriage." Doubtless the good man had often found, 
 in his career of active benevolence, the advantage of 
 rapid locomotion. 
 
 Well, let the rich have their carriages, and make 
 good use of them. 
 
 Ellesmere. Only one word ! I won't interrupt again. 
 Let them take care to send their carriages to the railway 
 station, to meet their poor friends who come to visit them. 
 
 But you will say, give us instances of the illegiti- 
 mate influence of wealth. There is one that occurs 
 to me directly. I say it is iniquitous, it is monstrous, 
 that a man should be raised to the peerage merely 
 because he is a rich man, and can to use the cant 
 phrase afford to support the dignity of the peerage. 
 That dignity of the peerage would be easily sup- 
 ported, if only those persons were made p?ers who 
 had, by public service and distinguished merit, deserved 
 the honour. 
 
 If it were universally recognised that there were 
 great objects in human life, such as social distinctions* 
 over which riches had no influence whatever, riches 
 would be less unreasonably, and less immoderately 
 pursued. Again, I object strongly to a man's power 
 of voting, in any capacity, being augmented by his 
 wealth. I do not care about your telling me that this 
 is sheer Radicalism, and talking to me about stakes 
 in the country : that betting phrase has no weight 
 with me. The judgment of men who have devoted 
 themselves to the getting, the saving, or the enjoying 
 of riches, may be as much warped by those employ- 
 ments as the poor man's judgment may be by his 
 poverty. I beg to ask you one question : do you 
 think the railways would have been worse managed if 
 the qualifications for directorship had been lowered, 
 or had been abandoned altogether ? 
 
 H H 
 
466 |lea:Ima{r. [:HAP. 
 
 However, all that I contend is, do no honour to a 
 rich man merely because he is rich. If this maxim 
 were adopted, riches would be robbed of half their 
 mischief. 
 
 I now pass to quite another subject, which, how- 
 ever, is not unconnected with the foregoing. I main- 
 tain that now life goes too fast, too fussily, and too 
 anxiously, to admit of much comfort, at least for 
 those who have any prominent part to play in life. 
 All our swiftness of locomotion, our promptitude of 
 communication, tends to promote this fussiness. Here, 
 again, I am merely talking after Ellesmere. I must 
 own I am very much puzzled as to how to suggest 
 any remedy for this state of things. I have tried to 
 think over it deeply, and the only thing that has 
 occurred to me, as a remedy, is this, that more per- 
 sons should be taken into partnership with those who 
 have to bear the arduous parts in life, and who would 
 then have more time for thinking. The general com- 
 plaint now is, which I have heard uttered dozens of 
 times, that those who have anything to do, have gene- 
 rally too much to do, while there remains a number 
 of intelligent and active-minded people who have 
 nothing to do unless, indeed, the shooting at hares 
 and pheasants be considered something to do. 
 
 Now, I w r ant to put before you a dilemma : either 
 this increase of work is profitable to the community, 
 or it is not ; if it is not, let us drop it ; but if it is, 
 then the benefit to the public will pay for the employ- 
 ment of additional heads and hands. 
 
 I mean this to apply to Government, and to all 
 public services useful to the community. But I will 
 illustrate my meaning by an example taken from 
 Government. 
 
 [Here Mr. Milverton gave an account, which would 
 not interest my readers much, of the labours and 
 duties of the Secretary of State for the Home Depart- 
 
Ilculmajj. 467 
 
 ment, and strongly urged the division of the work of 
 that office into two branches, with a new Minister.] 
 
 I pass now to another subject, recreation. I do 
 not advocate recreation exactly upon the same grounds 
 as those upon which it has often been argued for. I 
 say this I say that men - 
 
 Ellesmere, Yes, and women too. Oh, dear ! I ought 
 not to have interrupted. 
 
 that men are such mischievous animals, that you 
 can hardly take too much pains to occupy their spare 
 moments innocently. Oh, if we could have put down 
 frequently to a game at whist Attila, Charlemagne, 
 Genghis Khan, and the First Napoleon ! I am afraid 
 that there would be chronological difficulties in the 
 way of this arrangement ; but you know what I mean. 
 
 As to recreation for the poor, I agree with Elles- 
 mere, that that man will be one of the greatest bene- 
 factors to his species, and will fulfil the functions of a 
 great statesman, who contrives that the poor man 
 shall take a little longer time than he does at present 
 to consume his pot of beer. Remember there is but 
 standing-room in those bright and odious gin-palaces ; 
 and one "go" I believe that is the word is swal- 
 lowed hastily after another, because the poor man has 
 nothing else to amuse him, or to do. 
 
 Now I do not care what amusement you provide 
 for him, so that it is tolerably innocent, whether, 
 following the humble Milverton, he sits quietly down 
 to draughts and dominoes, like a French peasant ; or 
 whether, imitating the ambitious Ellesmere, he makes 
 " ducks and drakes" with a flat stone upon a pond ; 
 or whether, partaking the poetic nature of Sir Arthur, 
 he devotes his spare energies to the beautiful accom- 
 plishment of dancing ; or whether, following the 
 example of the solid Mauleverer, he plays at bowls 
 II II 2 
 
468 IjUalnraff. [CHAP. 
 
 and quoits (for those, I know, are your favourite 
 games, Mauleverer) ; or whether (to please you, John- 
 son) he indulges in golf and cricket; or whether, to 
 the delight of the wise and fact-loving Cranmer, he 
 plays at the game of Mechanics' Institutes it is all 
 one to me, so only that he is amused, and does not 
 drink off his gin or his beer quite so quickly. 
 
 Why is it, by the way, that women are so much 
 better than men less given to drunkenness, or any 
 similar excess ? Simply because they have a thousand 
 little occupations. A woman, who is not oppressed 
 by much riches and many servants, always finds 
 plenty to do about her house, and, in that, finds her 
 chief occupation in life and often her chief happiness. 
 And if Sir Arthur's plans 1 are adopted, women must 
 also, of necessity, partake in the recreation provided 
 for men. Now all the feminine species love dancing, 
 either as actors or spectators. The other day, in a 
 hideous back street, an organ-grinder came down the 
 street while I was passing, and six or eight young 
 ragamuffinesses, who seemed to spring from the gut- 
 ters, began to dance to the polka which the organ-man 
 was grinding out. They danced capitally, keeping 
 the right time, while their rags fluttered in the wind. 
 Their little grimy faces were suffused with joy, and 
 their bright teeth shone all the more brightly from 
 the contrast with the general dirt of the countenance. 
 Their mothers came out to see them. One or two 
 touching men lounged to the doors and looked on 
 complacently. For the moment that wretched street 
 was quite lit up with festivity. 
 
 You may think me a foolish man, overmuch given 
 to sentimentality ; but I could have sat down, if there 
 had been any clean place to sit upon, and cried, though 
 crying is not much in my way. But it did grieve me 
 
 1 This alludes to some views of Sir Arthur's given in a conversation 
 which I have not recorded. 
 
49 
 
 to think how few opportunities for recreation these 
 poor little wretches had ; and I pictured to myself a 
 scene which I have often beheld near Dresden, where, 
 in some tea-garden near to the town, I have seen the 
 artisan and his wife and his children all making them- 
 selves supremely happy (at an expense which is often 
 consumed in one or two " goes" at a gin-palace, swal- 
 lowed in a few minutes' time by the respectable 
 father of a family in England), dancing being the 
 principal amusement, and eating and drinking only 
 secondary. 
 
 I pass on to other topics connected with the great 
 subject of promoting the comfort of mankind. These 
 topics will be of a general character. The main 
 enemies to human comfort are intolerance, denigra- 
 tion, unjustifiable repetition, unjust criticism, uncalled- 
 for publicity, pedantry, irrational conservatism, and 
 the cultivation of hardness of character. 
 
 It would be like giving out one of Blair's sermons, 
 just such as we used to have at Eton from Dr. Keate, 
 and which we called " Second-prose " a juvenile 
 corruption for " Second-prayers " to dilate much 
 upon these topics; but I shall say a word or two 
 upon each. 
 
 Touching intolerance, it is comparatively easy for 
 men of large and tolerant nature to be tolerant, 
 generally speaking. Their difficulty will ever be to 
 be tolerant of intolerant people. Let them remember 
 that intolerance is the twin sister of ignorance, and 
 that they do not understand nor appreciate these 
 intolerant people if they cannot tolerate them. 
 
 Denigration. It may be very stupid in me, but 
 I cannot understand the pleasure which people take 
 in blackening each other. In the first place, it is 
 such an easy thing to do. The clever thing to do, 
 is to find out people's merits. I do not say this 
 satirically; but it is often the outer points of men's 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 characters little foolish habits, modes of talk that 
 are not agreeable, tiresome ways, unpleasant rough- 
 ness on the surface, all which afford such easy 
 opportunities for denigration, while, to discern the 
 sterling worth and merit and kindness which there 
 are in so many human beings (I believe in nearly 
 all) does require nice observation, guided by a kindly 
 imagination. 
 
 I should not care so much about this denigration, 
 if there were not always people ready to repeat 
 to the person blackened all the dark and unpleasant 
 things which others have said about him or her. 
 
 Touching unjustifiable repetition, which makes so 
 much mischief arid destroys so much comfort in the 
 world, I would only quote that good man, Thomas 
 a Kempis, whom I have quoted before, and who 
 says, "Do not hasten to repeat even those things 
 which you believe " ("Nee audita, vel credita, mox ad 
 aliorum aures effundere"\ 
 
 With respect to unjust criticism. The world is 
 full of this, and the critics little know what pain 
 they occasion. I do not say that critics should be 
 able to do the work they criticise, but really they 
 ought to sympathise to some extent with whatever 
 they criticise. Do they ever think how difficult it 
 is to do anything ? It is lucky that we come upon 
 the fruits of other men's work in former generations, 
 when there was less criticism, for there is no knowing 
 what good work might not have been stifled, if it 
 had been subjected to the same ordeal of criticism 
 which abounds in the present day. If we do not 
 take care, we shall enter into a Byzantine period 
 of the world's history, in which there is endless com- 
 ment, and little or no original production. 
 
 Now, for pedantry. This is one of the greatest 
 enemies, in a small way, to human comfort ; it 
 pervades every class of society. Scholars and official 
 
ljuealmzijr. 47 1 
 
 men are especially accused of it; but they are not 
 more guilty than other people. How dreadfully 
 pedantic doctors are, and railway officials, and, 
 above all, servants ! A doctor would see his dearest 
 friend die rather than interfere with another doctor, 
 or presume to say that the treatment is not quite 
 judicious. And I believe if a superior being, who 
 had only observed our world from a distance, were 
 obliged to come down and live amongst us, he 
 would not be surprised at our stupidities and our 
 cruelties our wars for example so much as he 
 would be by all the pedantries, vanities, and conven- 
 tionalities, by which we create so much discomfort. 
 The utterances that would astonish him, until he 
 became familiar with them, would be, " It is not my 
 place to do this : " " It is not your place to do that : " 
 " I think I ought to have been consulted :" " It seems 
 I am nobody now;" and the like. He would say 
 to himself, " They are always tormenting themselves 
 about trifles. They do not look at the substance. 
 They do not consider what things should be done ; 
 but rather, how these things should be done according 
 to certain narrow formularies." 
 
 Now, for irrational conservatism. I am sure that 
 I am fully alive to the advantages of conservatism. 
 It is a grand thing, as some one has said, that in 
 England we never wake up some fine morning and 
 find from the newspapers that everything has changed, 
 and that we are about to live under quite a new 
 dynasty. But there is such a thing as irrational 
 conservatism. An evil is fully proved to be an evil, 
 and an obvious remedy is suggested to counteract it. 
 You say to yourself, paraphrasing Shakspeare 
 
 " The times have been, 
 
 That, when the brains were out, the thing would die, 
 And there an end." 
 
472 eamaf. [CHAP. 
 
 But no, it won't die. It goes on spasmodically with- 
 out brains, and continues to cause a great deal of 
 practical discomfort. All this is the result of an 
 irrational conservatism, prone to reject every new 
 thing merely because it is new. 
 
 Now I come to unreasonable publicity. Publicity 
 in these days is too rapid, and not inquiring enough. 
 There conies out a flaming attack against some poor 
 man, based upon certain statements. In a day or 
 two, the man generally contradicts some of these 
 statements, and apparently with truth. But .the 
 mischief has been done. The accused person has 
 been made very uncomfortable, for people are 
 always in a great rage at being accused in any 
 respect wrongfully. Now it occurs to me to ask, 
 Why could not the accusing writer have made a 
 little more investigation before he wrote the accusing 
 article ? I suppose the answer will be, that he must 
 write to live, and he cannot make a living out of 
 it if he is to take all this trouble in investigation. 
 All I can say is, that as there seems to be a like- 
 lihood of publicity increasing greatly, an immense 
 amount of discomfort will be caused, both to public 
 and to private individuals, by rash and injurious 
 publications. 
 
 I am now going to touch upon another subject, not 
 before alluded to by me, and which I daresay you 
 will take to be very fanciful in me, and somewhat 
 effeminate. Is there not a certain hardness in the 
 English character which, instead of being repressed, is 
 much cultivated in modern times ? I scarcely know 
 how to describe it whether to class it as stoicism or 
 cynicism, or any other ism ; but I perceive it, and feel 
 it. No young man likes to show that he feels any- 
 thing very much, or cares for anybody very much. 
 Now you see from the literature of former ages that 
 people then weie not so reticent. I admit that there 
 
473 
 
 is something grand in the Spartan-like endurance 
 which enables you to let the fox gnaw you, without 
 your making any unpolite allusion to the pain you 
 suffer. But there is a wide distinction between this 
 endurance and the reticence to which I have referred. 
 If you constantly repress the expression of feelings, 
 you will gradually cease to have these feelings. Now, 
 for the comfort of the world and it is that which I 
 am advocating it is desirable that we should know 
 more of the better and more amiable parts of each 
 other's characters, and that amiability should not be 
 diminished by the constant avoidance of the manifes- 
 tation of it. Do you hear, Sir John ? 
 
 [Ellesmere nodded.] 
 
 I am afraid I have hitherto neglected to comment 
 upon the rider which Sir John Ellesmere was good 
 enough, with the consent of the company, to add to 
 the title of my essay. I can only say that I shall 
 never be happy or comfortable in this world while the 
 lower animals are treated as they are ; and I believe 
 that mine is not an exceptional case, but that there are 
 tens of thousands of human beings who feel exactly 
 as I do. If you were to amend all other evils, and 
 yet resolve to leave this untouched, we should not be 
 satisfied. It is an immense responsibility that Provi- 
 dence has thrown upon us, in subjecting these sensi- 
 tive creatures to our complete sway ; and I tremble 
 at the thought of how poor an answer we shall have 
 to give when asked the question how we have made 
 use of the power entrusted to us over the brute 
 creation. 
 
 EUesmere. According to Milverton, in order to make 
 people comfortable, we are to praise them when they 
 deserve it, even though we have the misfortune to live with 
 
474 eama, [CHAP. 
 
 them. Don't pinch my arm, Lady Ellesmere ! I praised 
 you so much before we were married, that there is an 
 immense balance of praise, still unaccounted for, that will 
 never be deserved on your part. But I have not indulged 
 Milverton to this extent, and therefore I can afford to say 
 now that the essay is not despicable. Useful, too, it is. 
 People come bothering me, even in court, and saying, 
 " How I wish I were you, having the pleasure of assisting 
 at those essays and conversations which take place at 
 Worth- Ashton." And these people are wonderfully sugges- 
 tive too, telling me what you should write about, and what 
 I should talk about. Now I can answer them, "My good 
 fellows, only read his last essay, the very last that ever is 
 to be, together with my talk upon it, and then you need 
 not read any more, and need not bother me any more, for 
 you will know exactly what we think upon every subject." 
 
 Now I will at once point out the things I agree with. I 
 agree with what you say about government and education ; 
 also about riches and religion. Indeed, what you said 
 about riches and education was chiefly derived from me. 
 
 By the way, with respect to religion, could you not have 
 said something more about sermons ? I have only heard 
 three sermons in my life upon what may be called the daily 
 topics of common life. Kindness to animals, gentleness 
 and tolerance in domestic life, not ridiculing the young, not 
 hurrying to repeat everything you hear, and several other 
 topics that you dwelt upon, would make excellent subjects 
 for sermons. Only the sermons must not be vague ; they 
 must not be Blairish ; they must condescend to details. 
 The preacher must sometimes say, " I saw this or that the 
 other day, and I must protest against it." He must not be 
 afraid of using common words, and must call a spade a 
 spade, and not an agricultural implement. If he is going 
 to speak against bribery at an election, he must use the 
 word "bribe" pretty plainly. 
 
 "It is no doubt, my Christian brethren, a thing to be 
 greatly reprehended that when a person is admitted to 
 exercise the privilege connected with a great trust, held for 
 the good of the community at large, and for the welfare of 
 our holy religion, he should, in an unseemly manner, betray 
 
xvii.] amaf. 475 
 
 that trust for the sake of any creature comfort, or endanger 
 his soul by yielding to the desire of the natural man for 
 filthy lucre, when lucre of any kind cannot be honourably 
 or virtuously conjoined with the due exercise of this im- 
 portant privilege." 
 
 What poor man discerns in that sentence any allusion 
 to pots of beer and five-pound notes for his vote? He 
 perceives that somebody has done wrong, or will do wrong. 
 Naturally he thinks it is the squire, and he goes away 
 saying, " Parson have a-been giving of it to the squire this 
 morning, he have." 
 
 Sir Arthur. I perceive a great opening for " filthy lucre" 
 to be gained by Sir John Ellesmere, if he would but write 
 a series of skeleton sermons. 
 
 Ellesmere. I will do it when I have time, and you shall 
 have a presentation copy, Sir Arthur. I think they might 
 even be of use to you when you are composing sonnets. 
 
 There is one thing you have omitted, Milverton, as 
 regards the art of making men comfortable. I shan't be 
 comfortable until you give me some good plays to go to, 
 played by great players. It is true there is always the 
 House of Commons, which Charles II. said was as good as 
 a play ; but I want something beyond that. 
 
 Mauleverer. Yes; I like a good play. It is the only 
 time one thoroughly forgets one's private miseries. 
 
 Cranmer. I don't care much about plays. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. I think they are the most enjoyable 
 things in the world. 
 
 Milverton. I will tell you a very foolish thing that is 
 often said, even by very clever men, about playgoing. They 
 say, "Why care to go and see Shakspeare acted? Can't 
 you read it in your closet ? " Now this appears to me such 
 nonsense. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes, it is. I don't believe that anybody 
 thoroughly understands a great play until he has seen it 
 acted. 
 
 Milverton. If there is anything in the world that I think 
 I know well, it is Macbeth. \ knew it when I was six years 
 old, for my mother used to spend hour after hour, and day 
 after day, in teaching it to me, and making me play it with 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 her; but when I came to see a great actress in Lady 
 Macbeth's part Helen Faucit new lights burst in upon 
 me, and I saw what a delicate and refined fiend Lady 
 Macbeth could be. 
 
 Ellesmere. Yes, I know, Milverton, that is a theory of 
 yours, that " Lady Macbeth" is her best part ; but I difTer 
 from you, and think that in "Rosalind" is her greatest 
 triumph. Now I will tell you what I think is one of that 
 lady's greatest merits as an actress. It is that she is not 
 always quite the same. Of course her main conception of 
 the part does not much vary ; but there will be particular 
 touches new felicities evolved in each representation. 
 She gives me the notion of one to whom her part is always 
 fresh, because, like the characters of all persons who are 
 good for anything, it is, in fact, an inexhaustible subject 
 of study. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Well, now, I like her in the Lady of Lyons. 
 She it was who made the Pauline. I remember seeing her 
 act with Macready in that play, and I never was more 
 delighted in my life. 
 
 Ellesmere. You see now what a pleasure is lost to us if 
 we neglect the drama. I shan't be comfortable, Milverton, 
 until you have the kindness to restore that to us an easy 
 matter, of course, for such a genius as you are. 
 
 But to revert to Milverton's speech. I quite agree with 
 what he said about the iniquity of adding undeserved 
 honours to riches. Riches ought to have no effect over the 
 distribution of honours and dignities. All merit through- 
 out the world receives an insult and a discouragement 
 when a rich man receives an honour on account of his 
 riches. 
 
 Sir Arthur. As to discouragement, I differ from you. 
 
 Milverton. And so do I. 
 
 Sir Arthur. The men who do anything that is worth 
 doing seldom think about reward of any kind. You can 
 get their best work from them, whether you treat them 
 well or ill. 
 
 Milverton. Quite true, Sir Arthur. We should confer 
 honours upon them, not so much for their sakes as for ours. 
 And not for ours in a worldly or acquisitive point of view, 
 
477 
 
 for, as you say, we shall get their best work from them, 
 whether we reward them or not. 
 
 Cranmer. I don't know. They knock pretty hard at 
 the doors of the Treasury sometimes. 
 
 Mauleverer. Yes ; after their work is done. 
 
 Ellesmere. Let us proceed with the discussion on the 
 essay. How severe Milverton was upon our present mode 
 of building and decorating. I think some general prin- 
 ciples might have been enounced there such as that 
 celebrated one of Pugin's, " Do not conceal the construc- 
 tion." The mischief that is done by concealing the con- 
 struction is immense. 
 
 Let us each invent a maxim. Of course it will only be 
 partially true, as all maxims are. Let us be silent for five 
 minutes. Walk about if you like (my locomotive thoughts 
 are always best), and then each of us shall propound his or 
 her nostrum in the form of a maxim. 
 
 We agreed to do so, and in five minutes were re- 
 seated and ready to produce our maxims. 
 
 Ellesmere. Of course I am ready first, and mine will be 
 the wisest maxim. Never mind the outside. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Avoid uniformity. 
 
 Ellesmere. Very good. What an advantage it is to live 
 with clever people : how it sharpens the wits ! I almost 
 think I shall change my maxim into, Find out clever people, 
 and insist upon living with them. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. One would think I had followed John 
 about before we were married, and had implored him to 
 allow me to live in the light of his sagacity, and to sun 
 myself in the warmth of his tender nature. 
 
 Ellesmere. You gave clear proof of your good sense in 
 doing it. Why deny it ? What do you say, Mauleverer ? 
 What is your maxim ? 
 
 Mauleverer. No artificial surfaces of any tuna. 
 
 Ellesmere. That is grand, but there must be many 
 exceptions gilding, for instance. 
 
 Cranmer. No house to be built on leasehold property. 
 
 Ellesmere. Tyrannous, and inadmissible, I fear ; but 
 very suggestive. What do you say, Milverton? We ex- 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 pect something very good from you, as it is your especial 
 subject. 
 
 Milverton. Never do anything in building which cannot 
 give a good account of itself. 
 
 Ellesi7iere. A splendid moral maxim ! but is it not a 
 little remote from bricklaying and plastering ? 
 
 Milverton. I really do not know how to sum up what I 
 mean in one maxim, but I will endeavour to explain. 
 
 The other day, before we left London, I took a walk. I 
 came upon some masons busily chipping holes in some 
 blocks of stone at the basement of a grand house ; making, 
 in short, little dust-pans for the London dirt to accumulate 
 in. This was done, I believe, because at the Pitti Palace, 
 in Florence, the architect had, doubtless to save trouble, 
 used rough and indented blocks of stone. Now what 
 account could these little dust-pans give of themselves ? 
 
 Then I saw a house with three huge brick pilasters rising 
 nearly to the roof, but not quite, and all that they supported 
 was a beam of wood fantastically and ridiculously orna- 
 mented? What account could those pilasters give of 
 themselves ? 
 
 Then I paid a visit, and was shown into a fine room with 
 a coved ceiling. There were seventy-eight half-brackets, 
 which, if they had been completed, would have had to 
 support four beams of wood, which had manifestly other 
 support. These semi-brackets were elaborately carved, and 
 abounded in leaves. They were splendid receptacles for 
 dust and dirt The only account they could give of them- 
 selves would be that they were put up to accommodate 
 spiders. Indeed the benevolent attention paid in house 
 decorations to the judicious lodgment of spiders is quite 
 marvellous. I wish people, when they were building, 
 provided as carefully for the accommodation of servants. 
 
 Elle:mere. The illustrations are good, but the maxim 
 remains somewhat vague and obscure, according to my 
 judgment. What do you say, Sandy ? 
 
 Johnson. Let every house in the country, and, where 
 possible, in London, have a good large playroom, separated 
 from the house by a passage having double doors at each end 
 of it. 
 
xvii.] amar, 479 
 
 Ellesmere. Elevate Sandy upon a tub, send at once for 
 Theed or Woolner, and have a statue made of Sandy, with 
 a battledore in his hand. It is a most judicious suggestion 
 that he has contributed. 
 
 What a place that room would be to send children to on 
 rainy days, and whenever their irrepressible animal spirits 
 keep the nerves of the elder people in a state of anxious 
 quivering ! 
 
 N.B. (and this would make that playroom an earthly 
 paradise). It should be an understood thing that the 
 family are not " at home " to visitors, when they are in 
 the playroom. 
 
 Sir Arthur. What a place for private theatricals, without 
 upsetting the rest of the house ! 
 
 Ellesmere. No foolish flowers to be put there to take up 
 room. It should be big enough for croquet, while battle- 
 dore and shuttlecock and children's hoops should revel in it. 
 
 Milverton. What a place it would be for a good jovial 
 dinner to one's poor neighbours after a cricket-match or an 
 archery meeting ! 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. What a place to practise archery in ! 
 
 Milverton. I will engage to build it out of the expensive 
 and ugly follies 
 
 Ellesmere. Which would, of course, be committed, if you 
 were not entrusted with the building of the house. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Another good point is that there would be 
 much less space required in the ordinary reception rooms, 
 if one had such a room as this for extraordinary occasions. 
 
 Ellesmere. You are all going into too much grandeur. 
 Sandy and I mean this room to be roughly constructed and 
 attached to houses of very moderate calibre ; and, if we 
 were left alone for a fortnight, without being bothered with 
 essays, and had one carpenter attached to us, we would 
 knock up something of the kind here. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Milverton, what is your maxim ? 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. I will give up the playroom, though 
 with great regret, if you will only give me two rooms sepa- 
 rated, in a similar manner to that which Mr. Johnson 
 proposes, from the house, to be used in case of illness, and 
 especially in case of infectious illness. 
 
480 HUtlimaj. [CHAP. 
 
 Ellesmere. An excellent idea ! But you must put it in 
 the form of a maxim. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. Leonard, do put it for me. You know 
 I am not clever in putting things. 
 
 Milverton. Mrs. Milverton wishes to say that Every 
 house should be so arranged as to contain a domestic infirmary. 
 
 Ellesmere. Well, you are all very clever! and have 
 offered a heap of good suggestions. 
 
 As I proposed the game, I think I ought to be allowed 
 to have another turn. 
 
 [We all assented.] 
 
 Then I say, When you are building, think of the comfort 
 of your servants, even before you think of your own. 
 
 [" Hear, hear," from Mr. Milverton and Sir Arthur.] 
 
 My first maxim, however, was the great one. I really 
 am proud of it. I should like it to be commemorated in 
 my epitaph. By the way, as this is Milverton's last essay, 
 it would be a very appropriate thing if I were to give you 
 a sketch of what my epitaph should be. I think it should 
 run thus. Give me your pencil, Sandy; let me write it 
 out: 
 
 He was a sound lawyer; 
 
 And, by a peculiar felicity, 
 
 Not uncommon to great advocates, 
 
 The side on which he argued 
 
 Happened always to be 
 
 The side of justice and of truth. 
 
 He never beat his wife, though she was often 
 
 Very provoking. 
 He was an endurable friend, 
 And, in a dull country house, 
 Was worth a deal of money 
 
 As a guest. 
 
 He was a good master to his dogs, 
 A persevering fisherman, 
 
 A powerful singer ; 
 
 And when he borrowed books, he always 
 
 Took care to return them. 
 
 The grand maxim, 
 
481 
 
 NEVER MIND THE OUTSIDE, 
 Which has improved the Art of Building 
 
 Throughout the world, 
 
 And which has tended to dignify and purify 
 
 All other departments in human life, 
 
 Was his'n. 
 
 Sir Arthur, Excellent! But there must be a Latin 
 quotation somewhere. 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, ah ! Latin. Yes, I have it. " Quis 
 tulerit Gracchos de seditione querentes" 
 
 Sir Arthur. I must be very stupid, I suppose; but I 
 do not see the appropriateness. 
 
 Mauleverer. Nor I. 
 
 Ellesmere. Nor I ; but it will set people thinking. They 
 will say I used it in some great speech, and that, as it 
 had never been heard in the House of Commons before, 
 it completely crushed Mr. Disraeli, or Mr. Gladstone. 
 
 Sir Arthur. No : say something of which nobody can 
 make any meaning, such as " Sed memor quia immemor " 
 (" But mindful, because unmindful," ladies). 
 
 Milverton. No : turn it this way, " Immemor guia 
 memor" ("Unmindful because mindful"), and then a 
 very subtle interpretation might be given. Don't you 
 know that, when you know a person very well, and love 
 him or her very much, you have more difficulty in re- 
 calling his or her countenance than that of any ordinary 
 person ? 
 
 Ellesmere. That is too fine-drawn. I stick to my 
 Gracchi. 
 
 But is not my epitaph modest and touching? I could 
 almost myself shed tears for the loss of such a man. L 
 do not say that I was a perfect friend, but only an en- 
 durable one. And then how exquisitely my honesty, 
 carefulness, and general propriety of conduct are indicated 
 in what is said about the returning of borrowed books ! 
 Some people might think there is a little flattery in the 
 words " powerful singer," but I know that Lady Ellesmere 
 always goes out of the room when I begin to sing, and 
 I conclude that her exit is from an excess of pleasure 
 that requires solitude to moderate it. 
 
 t i 
 
482 |LeaImar. 1 CHAP - 
 
 I observed that Lady Ellesmere did not say any- 
 thing, and looked grave. Women do not like this 
 kind of jesting about serious subjects, such as 
 epitaphs. Sir John saw this too, and immediately 
 turned into another branch of the subject. 
 
 Ellesmere. What you said about pedantry, Milverton, 
 was not bad, but I think it was muddled up in your 
 mind with other things, and, if you examined the matter, 
 you would find that what you disapproved of was a 
 mixture of pedantry and insolence. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Resulting in disobligingness, which is but 
 too common everywhere. 
 
 FMesmere. Everybody knows, and Lady Ellesmere better 
 than anybody, that I am the least ofFendable of mortal 
 men. But I have been offended thrice in my life, and 
 in each case it was by an official personage. Mark you 
 that, Sir Arthur and Mr. Cranmer. 
 
 Milverton. Let us hear all about it. I can hardly 
 imagine your being offended with anybody. 
 
 Ellesmere. The guilty official personages were the 
 croupier of a gaming-table, a young woman in a refresh- 
 ment-room at a railway-station, and an Under-Secretary 
 of State. 
 
 Mauleverer. How came you to be on such terms with 
 a croupier as to be offended? 
 
 Ellesmere. Don't be alarmed ! I never lost a penny 
 at a gaming-table in my life. When once I am convinced 
 that the odds, in however small a degree, are against me, 
 not a thaler would I venture. But I met this fellow in 
 some reading-room, and I asked him to do me some little 
 service, such as one man may reasonably ask another, to 
 show me where the bell was, or to be good enough to 
 indicate the way to the hotel of the Three Knaves, or to 
 allow me to have the Kolnischer Zeitung when he had 
 done with it. 
 
 He intimated to me that people mustn't speak to people 
 if people had not been introduced to people, and snubbed 
 me entirely. He was the most insolent of the three. 
 
 She was the haughtiest. I was foolish and tiresome 
 
XV.T.] llealma. 483 
 
 enough, seeing a. largely-spread board, to wish for some- 
 thing to eat and to drink. The young lady was appa- 
 rently absorbed in writing an epic poem. She looked 
 over my head, as Dickens describes, " into the far dis- 
 tance," and yet I felt she saw this tiresome person. I 
 never was cut so dead in my life. I went away hungry and 
 thirsty ; but I found another damsel who was gracious and 
 kind to me, and gave me a bun, from the stifling effect 
 of which I have not yet fully recovered. Oh, she was 
 haughty, I can tell you, that first young woman ! 
 
 Now for my third snubbing. My time is too highly 
 appreciated for me to bestow it unnecessarily; but I had 
 to icpresent some grievance I think it was for some 
 constituents to the - Office. 
 
 I made my way, not without difficulty, to the Under- 
 secretary, not without difficulty too, from the many 
 interruptions, did I contrive to state my case. Then he 
 commenced snubbing me fearfully. You will think I was 
 in a rage. Nothing of the kind. An odd idea struck me 
 while he was talking, that amused me all the time. 
 
 Did you ever hear the story of Mrs. Siddons, " How gat 
 he there?" You don't know it? Well, she heard some 
 one say of a Frenchman that he was in his bureau. Her 
 ideas of a bureau were not of a room, but of a piece of 
 furniture, and so the great tragic actress naturally exclaimed, 
 "How gat he there?" 
 
 * And so, too, all the time I was listening to this gentle- 
 man's objurgations, I was saying to myself, " How gat you 
 there ? What Minister originally took you out of the ruck 
 of men?" I say originally, because when once a man has 
 got anything, he rises afterwards by a kind of routine, in 
 parliamentary official life, as well as in the permanent civil 
 service. 
 
 And then I thought of Milverton. He once wrote a 
 story the best thing he ever did write, to my mind. By 
 the way, he will not live in future days by anything he has 
 written that the public has read as his ; but if he does 
 survive in men's minds it will be by some obscure thing 
 he has written, which neither he nor the public has taken 
 any account of. 
 
 I I 2 
 
484 .eama'. [CHAP. 
 
 Milverton. Thank you, Ellesmere ! 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, where was I ? 
 
 Milverton. That's so like Ellesmere he has often so 
 many persons on his hands to attack in this case the 
 croupier, the refreshment-girl, the Under-Secretary, the 
 Minister who first noticed him, and my unfortunate self 
 that he hardly knows where he is, and whom he is mauling. 
 
 Ellesmere. Oh, yes : I know where I was. Milverton 
 wrote a story about some people who were always obliged 
 to speak the truth when it was dark. I began to fear that I 
 was one of these people. It was a November day when 
 I saw the Under-Secretary, and, though only four o'clock 
 (I was on my way to the House), the shades of evening 
 were coming on. A nervous dread seized me lest I should 
 be obliged to tell my thoughts, and ask the Under-Secretary, 
 " How gat you there ?" I hurriedly took my departure. 
 
 That man was the rudest of the three. 
 
 But, seriously speaking for I mean that all my stones 
 should bear closely on the subject this illustrates what 
 I mean. 
 
 These three people were probably pedants. The croupier 
 had a pedantic idea of acquaintanceship the Under- 
 secretary of official work the refreshment-girl about giving 
 refreshments. I have no doubt I did something that 
 was out of due course : asked for coffee at a wrong time, 
 or committed some solecism in refreshment manners. I 
 daresay they were all pedants, but they were ill-conditioned 
 people too. Pedantry is not so harmful as you would make 
 out ; and besides, you often mistake a necessary preciseness, 
 or an inevitable division of labour, for mere pedantry. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I really think that, when a man has written 
 his own epitaph, it indicates a great desire on his part for 
 rest and quietness. I am sure, therefore, that Sir John will 
 be very much obliged to me if I take up the running in his 
 stead, and offer what few objections occur to me. 
 
 I think you are all too much inclined to look at what is 
 physical. What you have said about houses is very good ; 
 but, really, man is too great a creature to be made very 
 comfortable merely by comfortable houses. I like best 
 what Milverton said about social and domestic intercourse. 
 
485 
 
 How many human beings, Mr. Cranmer, were there 
 found to be in the British Islands on the occasion of the 
 last census ? 
 
 Cranmer. 29,423,628 ; I know you will believe in my 
 odd figures. 
 
 Sir Arthur. Divide that number roughly by four, and it 
 will come to something like 7,000,000. I have no doubt, 
 then, that there are, at this moment, 7,000,000 of mis- 
 understandings in the British Isles. You know what I 
 mean by misunderstandings ; that A thinks that he has 
 reason to think that B thinks meanly of him ; and that B 
 thinks that C said something very unkind about him behind 
 his back ; and that E is sure that F has prejudiced G 
 against him, for G has never been so friendly with him 
 since he (G) made F's acquaintance; and so it goes on, 
 through innumerable alphabets. Now this habit of self- 
 tormenting might be considerably diminished by judicious 
 education. Here is a thing, too, for preachers to preach 
 against. 
 
 Milverton. The mischief chiefly arises from a kind ot 
 modesty from a keen sense in most people of their own 
 shortcomings and deficiencies. If people would only 
 exercise their imagination in imagining that others think 
 as well and as kindly of them (and this is surely not a 
 great stretch of imagination) as they do of these others, the 
 world would be a much more comfortable place to live in. 
 The agonies that sensitive people invent no, absolutely 
 create for themselves are as astounding in magnitude as 
 they are ingenious in conception. I have seen the tears 
 start into the eyes of a child on its being called by some 
 new name of affection which it did not understand. Now, 
 though a very humble, what a striking instance this is of 
 the misery of misunderstanding ! 
 
 Sir Arthur. A great French writer, I think it was Eugene 
 Sue, said, " Tout pardonner, <?est tout comprendre." I would 
 rather he had turned it the other way, and had said, " Tout 
 couifrendre, c'est tout par aonner." For, in truth, one would 
 never be angry with anybody, if one understood him or her 
 thoroughly. Now there is not time to understand them 
 thoroughly. One must trust a great deal to the imagina- 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 lion: and therefore, I say, educate the imagination to 
 believe that people are saying many favourable things of 
 John behind his back. 1 
 
 Ellesmere. I know a John who never indulges in this 
 fond imagination, and yet does not make himself very 
 miserable by fretting over what he imagines people may be 
 saying of him. 
 
 Sir Arthur. I was going on to say that we do not make 
 enough of, or give sufficient encouragement to, pleasantness 
 in people. I know I am only saying here what Milverton 
 would say, and indeed what he has said elsewhere ; but I do 
 not think he gave the just weight to such topics in his speech, 
 and that he, like the rest of you, dwelt too much on mate- 
 rial comforts. He led you from the senate or the school 
 to the social circle and the home ; but I want to deal with 
 the man himself, and with his modes of thought, if I am to 
 make him " comfortable." And I believe that a great deal 
 can be done by training, especially by early training, to 
 habituate our minds to " comfortable " modes of thought. 
 
 To illustrate how rare a thing is pleasantness of de- 
 meanour. I knew a lady who received, as it is called, 
 London society very extensively. This lady was a comely, 
 cosy woman, " fair, fat, and forty," and one of those per- 
 sons in whom others inevitably confide, and to whom they 
 come and tell their grievances. 
 
 One day I was alone with her, when she began to talk of 
 her experience of the world. I listened very attentively. 
 
 " Now, as regards you men," she said, " what a number 
 of clever and intelligent men there are ! A clever man is no 
 rarity ! Also, what a number of good people there are ; people 
 (perhaps of rough, queer, awkward exterior) who gave no sign 
 of their goodness and kindheartedness, but who, on the con- 
 trary, * from the cradle to the grave,' are misunderstood ; 
 and who are very cross, too, at being misunderstood, when 
 it is really their own fault, or rather the fault of their train- 
 ing. But if you want to know what is a rarity among men, 
 
 1 I did not understand this expression, but afterwards found out that 
 it was anciently a way by which a man delicately alluded to favourable 
 things that had been said about himself, " Dicebant mtilta favorabilia dt 
 lohanne." 
 
XVTI. 
 
 487 
 
 it is a pleasant man one who is safe, who never makes, 
 nor takes, needless offence ; who brings out the best points 
 of other people. I assure you, Sir Arthur, when one has to 
 give many parties, one learns to- value such persons very 
 much, and to discern that they are highly gifted." 
 
 I never forgot this conversation, and have ever since been 
 looking about for pleasant people. The lady was quite 
 right : they are the rarities. Double their number, and the 
 world would be much more " comfortable." 
 
 Now, don't come down upon me by saying that a man 
 must be somewhat false, or too much given to assent to 
 everything that everybody says, in order to be a pleasant 
 companion. Falseness, or insincere assent, is immediately 
 perceived, and destroys pleasantness of intercourse, instead 
 of creating it. But a pleasant man can dissent from you 
 heartily and earnestly, without giving the least cause for 
 offence. Of course no man is pleasant who is not truthful. 
 Now a disagreeable man will often dissent from you from 
 the mere love of opposition, and you do not call that un- 
 truthful, whereas it is the essence of falsehood, and you never 
 know what the man's opinions really are, because he is 
 so given to object to everything that anybody else says. 
 
 Milverton. I agree with every word you say, Sir Arthur ; 
 but do not blame me for not having introduced all these 
 things into my speech ; if I had done so, I should have 
 spoken from breakfast-time till dinner-time. 
 
 Ellesmere. I must revive, and return to this dull earth ; 
 for I have something very good to say. I object to a 
 species of ill-natured ridicule which is very rife in these 
 days, and which goes by the vulgar name of " chaff." I 
 have heard the most ill-natured things said chaffingly. 
 
 Mauleverer. Well ! If I ever ! 
 
 Sir Arthur. Upon my word, Ellesmere, we must revert 
 to the Latin of your epitaph, and exclaim : " Qiiis tulerit 
 Ellesmere, de chaffatione querentem" 
 
 Ellesmere. And I must revert to what you say about mis- 
 understandings. I will knock off, at once, some four or five 
 units from your seven millions of misunderstandings, for I 
 daresay there are four or five foolish people who misunder- 
 stand me. Cranmer did, for one ; but that's all over. I never 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 say anything that can hurt anybody of any sense. Half an 
 hour ago, I said something to Milverton about his works 
 which might be taken to be an unpleasant saying, whereas 
 it was a high compliment ; delicately veiled, I admit, but still 
 a high compliment. Other people valued his well-known 
 works ; I, for my part, delight most in those which are at 
 present obscure. All my dkspliments (if I may coin a word 
 for the occasion) are (when unmasked) highly complimentary. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. There never were masks, then, so like 
 real flesh and blood. 
 
 Ellesmere. It is very kind of you, my lady, to point out 
 how well the thing is done, and that the deception is so. like 
 real life ; and yet, as I contend, it does not deceive any- 
 body. The birds do not come and peck at my picture : 
 they merely say to one another, " How well Sir John paints 
 his cherries ! It is quite a treat to look at them." 
 
 Now, for goodness' sake do admit that there is a gulf so 
 wide between fun and ill-nature that no Curtius can fill it 
 up. Don't think you are going to make men comfortable 
 by making them dull. 
 
 Mauleverer. I am going to have my " innings " now, 
 and I shall presume to take you back to a very grave part 
 of the subject. You may try to improve individual men as 
 much as you like, but I can tell you that they will always be 
 little, spiteful, vain, sensitive, backbiting creatures. 
 
 Now I think you may possibly do something to make 
 governments wiser, and so improve the comfort of man- 
 kind. I do not wish to be censorious, but the statesmen of 
 modern days do not seem to me to be well educated for 
 statesmanship to be well grounded in the things it most 
 behoves them to know. A signal proof of this seems to 
 me to be, that all great measures are carried by the very 
 men who began by opposing them. I will not use the 
 ugly words " renegades" and " apostates," but, to use par- 
 liamentary language, I will say that the best measures are 
 carried by gentlemen " who have seen reason, and are not 
 ashamed to own it, for greatly modifying their opinions on 
 this important subject," which generally means that they 
 have come right round. 
 
 I know full well that to make too much of mere con- 
 
489 
 
 sistency is a. great mistake ; but it does occur to me as 
 a subject of regret, that statesmen should not have appre- 
 hended the drift of certain main lines of policy. Now I 
 must speak a little egotistically, but it will illustrate what I 
 mean. When I was a young man, and thought it likely 
 that I should some day or other be in parliament, the great 
 noise was beginning to be made about Free-trade and the 
 Corn-laws. I said to myself, I will study these questions 
 for myself : and I did study them carefully. I came to the 
 conclusion, which was not particularly welcome to me, that 
 the principles of Free-trade must prevail, and that the Corn- 
 laws must be abolished. Now, really, I cannot help giving 
 myself, and others who did as I did, more credit for states- 
 manlike views than those men who filled a much greater 
 place in the world, but who seemed to be very deaf to 
 sound reasoning, and never to have looked into things for 
 themselves. 1 cannot respect them so much for their 
 inconsistency, whatever merit it may have, as I should 
 have done for their sagacity, if they had been consistently 
 right from the first. 
 
 Another point has struck me about statesmen. Some- 
 times they do not seem to be equal to the clever men 
 outside, or even to the general body of ordinary men, for 
 that is the point. A Cabinet, perhaps consisting of really 
 clever men, puts forth something which gods, men, and 
 omnibus drivers protest against, not only as a thing bad in 
 itself, but which has aiso this disadvantage, that it cannot 
 possibly be carried. That good sense which forms the best 
 part of what we call " the public mind," seems sometimes 
 to have no representatives amongst even first-class states- 
 men. This has really puzzled me. I am not speaking 
 satirically at all, but very earnestly, and I hope numbly. 
 Do explain this phenomenon to me. 
 
 Cranmer. Let me answer him. You seem to forget, 
 Mauleverer, that these things you object to, which are put 
 forth by statesmen, and which, as you say, are discovered to 
 be foolish, even by commonplace persons, are the results 
 of compromise. Now, every compromise is easily attack- 
 able. Your commonplace man has nobody whom he is 
 obliged to consult. His views are therefore uncompromis- 
 
490 
 
 ing and clear. You would see what modifications he would 
 have to make if he had to act with others, instead of merely 
 talking out his own views, upon his own responsibility alone. 
 
 Sir Arthur. It seems but fair to consider this. 
 
 Milverton. Still, does there not remain an important 
 residuum of truth in what Mr. Mauleverer has stated ? 
 
 Sir Arthur. Perhaps ; but much less, I think, than you 
 imagine. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. Now may I not take up the running, or 
 have the innings, to use the elegant phrases which you 
 gentlemen adopt, and make my comment upon the speech ? 
 
 How was it, Leonard, that you did not say anything 
 about marriage, upon which, surely, so much of comfort or 
 discomfort depends ? 
 
 Milverton. My dear Mildred, are you going to be un- 
 reasonable too, like the rest of them? To discourse pro- 
 perly on such a subject would have required a long speech, 
 and who is to make such a speech ? An unmarried man 
 cannot, for want of experience, and a married man will not ; 
 consequently there has been very little written or said about 
 marriage, if we except Jeremy Taylor's celebrated sermon, 
 which is worth listening to. 
 
 I will tell you something which occurs to me, but it has 
 reference to love-making rather than to marriage. I think 
 that some of you women make a point of being too re- 
 served and too reticent in the expression of your feelings, 
 or rather of neglecting to give any intimation of what those 
 feelings might be ; and so, many a marriage, that might have 
 proved very happy, has been prevented. 
 
 Ellesmere. I quite agree with Milverton that, considering 
 the greater natural modesty and timidity of men, women 
 should make more of an advance than they do. What 
 would have become of me if Mildred had not been some- 
 what different from the rest of her sex ? You know how it 
 all happened ? 
 
 "Johnny!" she said (I did think that a little familiar, 
 and that she might have contented herself with "John"), 
 "Johnny! you are intolerable to most men, and nearly to 
 all women ; but you are not so very intolerable to me. I 
 don't mind, if you don't. Pegotty is willing." 
 
491 
 
 What could I do, but close at once with the proposition,! 
 and say, " Barkis is willing, and has been for many a long 
 day " ? And so it ended ; no, it didn't end there ; I always 
 do what the books tell me to do I believe in books and 
 so down I knelt and kissed her hand. And here we are, 
 not more miserable than other married people. Oh, it's a 
 capital instance of the advantage of women coming forward. 
 Speaking on the part of men, having received a " brief," 
 marked with a large fee, and intituled " Mankind in general 
 v. Mauleverer and Others," I say we should not mind at all 
 if women would take the leading part in love affairs. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere. I think I need not contradict this state- 
 ment. The Court is too well aware of my learned friend's 
 power of statement, which is nearly equal in truth and 
 accuracy to his "powerful singing." Johnny's audacity (I 
 suppose I may call him Johnny now) is too well known for 
 it to be supposed that it was wanting to him on any occasion. 
 Their lordships, I am sure, are so far with me. 
 
 Milverton. Have you anything to say, Johnson ? for, if 
 not, I shall commence my speech in reply. 
 
 Johnson. I have something to say, but it is not quite 
 relevant to the subject. 
 
 Ellesmere. Say it, Sandy. Hang relevancy and consis- 
 tency, and all other strait-laced inventions for tying up the 
 tongues of men. 
 
 Johnson. No, I shall postpone it to another time. 
 
 Milverton. Have you anything you wish to say, Blanche? 
 
 Mrs. Milverton. No, dear ; I agree, chiefly, with what 
 Sir Arthur has said. 
 
 Milverton. Then, I suppose, I may commence my reply. 
 
 In the first place, Ellesmere sneered at me about 
 repetition. 
 
 [I did not hear Sir John say anything of the kind : 
 I suppose it was an aside.] 
 
 I shall begin with a story. 
 
 I was travelling with one of the leading men of the ex- 
 treme Liberal party in Ireland, a man of great eloquence, 
 and it was at a time when O'Connell was in full force, and 
 creating immense agitation for repeal. " What a great man 
 
492 lUdmsjf* [ CHAP - 
 
 he is ! " said my friend. " Is there any man who can repeat 
 the same thing over and over again in the way that he 
 does ? You do not see the greatness that there is in that. 
 If you or I, poor creatures, were to have said the same 
 thing once or twice, however appropriate, should we not 
 be too shamefaced to say it again ? 
 
 * Hereditary bondsmen, know ye not, 
 Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow ? ' 
 
 Now, could you ' hereditary bondsmen ' them more than 
 once or twice in your life ? You know you couldn't. 
 Whereas O'Connell can and will do so a hundred times. 
 Those lines exactly convey his meaning, and he is not going 
 to waste his time in searching for what would be sure to do 
 not quite so well." 
 
 What my Irish friend said made a deep impression upon 
 me, and when I am drawing back from a word, or a phrase, 
 or a sentiment, merely because I have said it once or twice 
 before, I mutter to myself, " Hereditary bondsmen, know 
 ye not ? " and on I go with my word or my phrase, which 
 happens to suit me now as it suited me before. Have I 
 not answ ered you, Master Ellesmere ? 
 
 [Ellesmere made a shrug of negation, but said 
 nothing.] 
 
 I should like now to add a few words in explanation 
 of my speech. I do not think I made very clear what 
 I meant by unreasonable conservatism. I will give an 
 instance. A man who has given considerable attention 
 to the poor, and has been noted for benevolence, tells 
 me that it would be an immense advantage if wages were 
 paid in the middle of the week instead of at the end. I 
 thought I knew something about this matter, but when 1 
 came to talk with this man, I found there were advan- 
 tages, in the plan he proposed, that had entirely escaped 
 me. Look, for instance, how much longer time the poor 
 woman would have for laying out her husband's wages to 
 advantage. Whereas, under the present system of paying 
 on a Saturday, she has scarcely any choice given her ; for 
 
493 
 
 recollect that Sunday is the feast day: the day for which 
 meat is bought. 
 
 Then another thing that you would never have thought 
 of is, that no extra blaze of gas would be brought on, 
 like there now is on a Saturday night, for the purpose of 
 selling an inferior article under the deceiving influence of 
 that extra light. Well, this man had two great establish- 
 ments ; one in town, and one in the country. At one he 
 succeeded, but at the other conservatism, as he told me, 
 was too strong for him. 
 
 Now, take another instance, the locking of the doors 
 of railway carriages. I never met with a man who could 
 give me valid reasons for the continuance of that prac- 
 tice that almost everybody wishes to be discontinued. I 
 believe that the reason mainly adduced for the practice 
 is, that some madman might jump out while the train is 
 in motion. But what a one-sided madman he must be, 
 for the doors are only locked on one side. Bring the 
 people of England to the poll on this question, and not 
 one in one hundred thousand would vote for this locking 
 up except, perhaps, the madmen. They might naturally 
 enough vote with the directors. 
 
 But the thing having been done once, irrational con- 
 servatism comes in, and years pass away before the thing 
 can be undone. 
 
 Take another instance, we mend our roads with rough 
 stones, and omit to press them down properly. This in- 
 jures our horses, spoils our carriage-wheels, and annoys 
 ourselves ; and, moreover, is a great detriment to the 
 road. But to bring a heavy roller over these stones would 
 be a Whig-Radical device, and irrational conservatism 
 shudders at it. 
 
 Now I come to Sir Arthur's remarks. Of course, if it 
 had been an essay or a speech chiefly directed to the 
 government of the man's own mind, I should have dwelt 
 much more upon the art of making men more comfort- 
 able in their minds. I should have mentioned, for instance, 
 what I have said before, about the folly of hating, and of" 
 imagining evils for, others, upon this ground alone, that, 
 exercise your imagination as much as you will, you cannot 
 
494 aaf, [CHAP, 
 
 imagine anything which is sure to do your enemy, if you 
 are stupid enough a-nd extravagant enough to indulge in 
 such a luxury as an enemy, any harm. 
 
 I should have endeavoured to deal with envy and jea- 
 lousy in a similar way : but I was not speaking about the 
 passions, but about the possible comforts of mankind. 
 
 Finally, I should like to say something more about 
 communism. I fear I shall be misunderstood in what I 
 said about that. I do certainly think that some of the 
 advantages which communists aim at might be gained by 
 central government, which, in my judgment, is bound to 
 undertake that good for individuals which they cannot 
 possibly compass by individual exertion. 
 
 But now, following the line of Sir Arthur, I will show 
 that there is a much larger and higher communism in my 
 mind the communism of sympathy that should pervade 
 all classes. 
 
 What is the great misery of each individual man ? Isola- 
 tion. " No losses but of my making, no tears but of my 
 shedding," says Shylock, being himself, partly from his 
 own fault, and partly from the fault of cruel prejudices, 
 one of the most isolated of beings. 
 
 You all know those words in the " Flauto Magico " 
 which I admire so much. I have often repeated them 
 to you, and ("Hereditary bondsmen, know ye not?") I 
 shall repeat them again. The words which please me 
 most are 
 
 " Fra noi ciascun divide 
 L' affanno ed il piacer." 
 
 What a comfort it would be to human life if men felt 
 they could divide their sorrows with other men, and how 
 willingly they would then allow those others to partake 
 their joys ! Of course, I know that, upon this earth, such 
 a state of things is impossible. The only approach that 
 can be made to it is by sympathy, and sympathy must 
 grow with knowledge. Changing and enlarging a little 
 your French proverb, I would say " Tout comprendre cest 
 tout aimer" 
 
495 
 
 We dined together, and everybody tried, at least 
 everybody except Sir John Ellesmere, to make the 
 evening go off cheerfully; but it was manifestly an 
 effort, and the wheels "drave heavily." It was in 
 vain that Mr. Milverton, playing the part of a good 
 host, threw out topics of conversation, chiefly political. 
 Sir John gave short, snappish answers, which led to 
 nothing. 
 
 When we had left the table, and had drawn round 
 the fire, there was a heavy silence for a minute or 
 two, which was at last broken by Sir John. 
 
 Ellesmere. No, I will not come again ; it is such a de- 
 testable thing, the breaking-up. Nothing is worth it. 
 
 I will come and see you, Milverton, if you are in trouble or 
 ill, but I will not assist any more at these pleasant meetings. 
 
 What did Dr. Johnson say when he went over Garrick's 
 cheerful house, and saw Garrick's pleasant, comely wife, and 
 Garrick's well-chosen furniture? It was something of this 
 sort : " Oh, Davy, Davy, these are the things which make 
 it so terrible to die ! " and parting is a kind of death. 
 
 Now there is Sir Arthur. I knew him to be a great 
 writer and a great politician, but I did not know that he 
 was such a good fellow, and that he would endure the 
 impertinences of a certain flippant lawyer, presuming to 
 chaff him (shall I admit the word "chaff"?) about "The 
 True," " The Good," and " The Beautiful" 
 
 And then there is Cranmer. Who would have thought 
 that an ex-Secretary of the Treasury would be so tolerant 
 of such an unofficial-minded man as I am ? And then, 
 Mauleverer, I now know that he has a large soul, and am 
 sure that he likes me better than any turtle ; and Sandy, 
 there ; what a clever boy he is ! Have I not taught him 
 many athletic sports such as fishing, and making ducks 
 and drakes on the water? And I am very sorry to part 
 from him, too. I hate parting, that's a fact ! and I am not 
 such a hypocrite and impostor as, like the rest of you, to 
 pretend to be very cheerful this evening. 
 
 By the way, having mentioned Garrick's wife reminds me 
 
496 almaE [CHAP. 
 
 of something. With my fear of any great felicity in this 
 world, and my horror of having to part from it, I almost 
 wish I had never seen Mildred. She has made life too 
 agreeable to me. Now then, dear, have I not said a thing 
 which compensates for all rude speeches, past, present, and 
 to come ? 
 
 [It is always very difficult to know how far Sir 
 John is in earnest. I think there was a touch of 
 earnestness in that last sentence of his. Lady Elles- 
 mere evidently thought so, too. In that beautiful 
 woman's eyes there came that mist which rises before 
 tears, or upon the conquest and suppression of tears, 
 and which gives the deepest and tenderest expression 
 to a face. She stole her hand into his ; but said 
 nothing. Sir John continued :] 
 
 Talking of "The Comfortable," there is one comfort in 
 having a wife, that one can throw one's packing upon her ; 
 and, as no true woman can refuse a good opportunity for 
 making a fuss, she is sure to delight in it. To-morrow is 
 Sunday, and we start early on Monday ; so, my dear, you 
 really must set to work now. Remember to return those 
 books of Milverton's that we have carried off into our room, 
 or my epi - Don't look so reproachful, my dear. Do 
 you know, Milverton, our wives are angry with us : yours 
 because you said it was your last essay ; and mine, because 
 I wrote a posthumous account of myself. You silly thing ! 
 it does not make one die a bit the sooner; and as for you, 
 Blanche, Milverton's threat of its being the last essay is 
 merely a sign of increased liveliness, and a decent way of 
 informing us that he is coming out next season with re- 
 newed vigour. Do Ministers always mean to resign when 
 they threaten to do so ? 
 
 No, don't go just yet. I will give you a good winding 
 up of all our writing and talking. Do you remember the 
 concluding chapter of Rasselas, " in which nothing is con- 
 cluded " ? I will give you my version of it as applicable 
 to ourselves. It is as follows ; 
 
xvn.j ;ttmma{r. 497 
 
 It rained incessantly (that is, it did yesterday), and the 
 Friends in Council were confined to the house. A juicy 
 day in the country promotes meditation of the most serious 
 kind ; and they had ample time to think over and to 
 communicate to each other the various schemes of happi- 
 ness which each of them had formed. 
 
 Mr. Cranmer thought that, of all sublunary things, taxa- 
 tion was the prettiest. He desired to found a state where 
 the people would pay their taxes gladly, and where financial 
 statements made by the Government would be universally 
 believed in. 
 
 Mr. Mauleverer sought to enrol himself in a community 
 where every man, woman, and child should know how 
 thoroughly and hopelessly miserable he or she is, and 
 where a joke should be a crime punishable by instant 
 death. 
 
 Sir Arthur maintained that a perception of " The Beauti- 
 ful " would, of itself, render all people sufficiently happy ; 
 but his wanderings from Mesopotamia to Yucatan had onlv 
 brought him in contact with coarse people, who seemed 
 more intent upon "The Beefy" than "The Beautiful." 
 
 Mr. Milverton desired a kingdom in which right reason 
 that is to say, his own ideas should always prevail. He 
 had carefully fixed the limits of this kingdom ; but could 
 never find anybody worthy to be an inhabitant of it except 
 himself and his private secretary, Sandy Johnson. 
 
 Mr. Alexander Johnson thought that literature was the 
 salt of life, and that any man who had written a book 
 must be very wise and very good. Some converse, how- 
 ever, with men who had written books, induced him greatly 
 to modify this opinion ; and he was now inclined to main- 
 tain that the northern part of each community contained 
 all the worth, and wit, and wisdom of the land, and that 
 the universe, to be well governed, should chiefly be ruled 
 over by Scotchmen. 
 
 Mrs. Milverton desired to find that greatest of house- 
 hold treasures a good cook, with a good temper. 
 
 Lady Ellesmere proposed to form a female community, 
 herself to be the head of it, where, freed from the tur- 
 bulence of men, gentle meanr should be employed for the 
 
 K K 
 
[CHAP. 
 
 attainment of generous ends, and where rationality of enjoy- 
 ment should be the just reward of perspicuity of design ; 
 but, never having been for any ten minutes alone with 
 other women, without finding their society rather dull, she 
 was beginning to conclude that men, as well as wasps, 
 must have their place in creation (though she could riot 
 quite see why) and must be endured as necessary evils. 
 
 Sir John Ellesmere was contented to be driven along the 
 stream of life without expecting to find anybody much wiser, 
 more judicious, or less unreasonable than himself. 
 
 Of the many discussions and deliberations in which the 
 " Friends " had been involved, they were now aware that 
 some of them were wise, and that some of them were inept. 
 Of the opinions they had pronounced, the precepts they 
 had urged, the suggestions they had presumed to offer for 
 the benefit as they had been pleased to fancy of man- 
 kind, reflection taught them that those which were the 
 utterances of folly would be readily adopted by the common 
 nonsense of their fellow-men ; while such alas, but few ! 
 as were the dictates of sound wisdom would mostly be 
 devoid of growth in the shallow soil upon which such seeds 
 are, of necessity, scattered by the sower. Rejoicing in the 
 thought that, if their lucubrations would do no good, at any 
 rate they would cause but little harm for the world is so 
 full of foolishness that if a new folly is introduced it must 
 perforce expel some other folly the Friends in Council 
 resolved, if the train should not break down, to return to 
 their smoke-stained habitations in the "unlovely" precincts 
 of modern Babylon. 
 
 After this there was much humorous conversation, 
 everybody, except Mrs. Milverton and Mr. Cranmer, 
 protesting that their views and hopes had been grossly 
 misrepresented by Sir John Ellesmere. We then 
 separated for the night ; and I have nothing further 
 to relate respecting our sojourn during the holidays 
 at Worth-Ashton. 
 
499 
 
 And now I must say a word or two for myself. I 
 may not always have set forth accurately the con- 
 versations which I have undertaken to record. I 
 may not even have chosen the most interesting of 
 them. I am very young, but I think I am not un- 
 observant ; and the love I have had from my child- 
 hood for investigating character may have been useful 
 to me in this instance. I hope it may have been so. 
 But, at any rate, I have done my best, and can only 
 hope that what I have done will not be received with 
 disfavour by the public. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 EICHARD CLAY AND SONS, 
 
 BREAD STREET HILL, K.C. 
 
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