GRYLL GRANGE

By Thomas Love Peacock

[Illustration: Minuet de la Cour 009-177]

[Illustration: Titlepage]

GRYLL GRANGE

BY

THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK

ILLUSTRATED BY F. H. TOWNSEND

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY GEORGE SAINTSBURY

London

MACMILLAN AND CO. , Ltd. 

NEW YORK: MACMILLAN & CO. 

1896

INTRODUCTION

_Gryll Grange_, the last and mellowest fruit from Peacock's tree, was, like most mellow fruit, not matured hastily. In saying this I do notrefer to the long period--exactly a generation in the conventionalsense--which intervened between _Crotchet Castle_ of 1831 and this of1861. For we know as a matter of fact, from the preface to the 1856edition of _Melincourt_, that Peacock was planning _Gryll Grange_ ata time considerably nearer to, but still some years from, its actualpublication. 

There might perhaps have been room for fear lest such a proceeding, onthe part of a man of seventy-five who was living in retirement, shouldresult in an ill-digested mass of detail, tempered or rather distemperedby the grumbling of old age, and exhibiting the marks of failing powers. No anticipation could have been more happily falsified. The advancein good temper of _Gryll Grange_, even upon Crotchet Castle itself, isdenied by no one. The book, though long for its author, is not in theleast overloaded; and no signs of failure have ever been detected in itexcept by those who upbraid the still further severance between theline of Peacock's thought and the line of what is vulgarly accounted'progress, ' and who almost openly impute decay to powers no longer usedon their side but against them. The only plausible pretext for thisinsinuation is that very advance in mildness and mellowness which hasbeen noted--that comparative absence of the sharper and cruder strokesof the earlier work. But since the wit is as bright as ever, though lesshard, it seems unreasonable to impute as a defect what, but for veryobvious reasons, would be admitted as an improvement. 

Except Brougham, who still comes in for some severe language, no one ofPeacock's old favourite abominations undergoes personal chastisement. On the contrary, indirect but pretty distinct apology is tendered toWordsworth, Southey, and Coleridge by appreciative citation of theirwork. Even among the general victims, Scotchmen and politicaleconomists have a still more direct olive-branch extended to them bythe introduction of the personage of Mr. MacBorrowdale: there is no moreblasphemy of Scott: and I do not at the present moment remember any verydistinct slaps at paper money. Peace had been made long ago with theChurch of England, through the powerful medium of Dr. Folliott; but itis ratified and cemented anew here not merely by the presentation ofDr. Opimian, but (in rather an odd fashion perhaps) by the trait ofFalconer's devotion to St. Catharine. So also, as the fair hand ofLady Clarinda, despite some hard knocks administered to her father andbrother, had beckoned Peacock away from his cut-and-dried satire ofthe aristocracy, so now Lord Curryfin exhibits a further stage ofreconciliation. In short, all those elements of society to which veryyoung men, not wanting either in brains or heart, often take crude andfanciful objection, had by this time approved themselves (as they alwaysdo, with the rarest exceptions, to les âmes bien nées) at worst gracefulif unnecessary ornaments to life, at best valuable to the social fabricas solid and all but indispensable buttresses of it. 

In all these 'reconciliations and forgivenesses of injuries, ' however, it is very important to observe that there is no mawkishness; and, whatever may have been sometimes thought and said, there is no 'ratting*in the real sense. As must be obvious to any attentive reader of thenovels, and as has been pointed out once or twice before in theseintroductions, Peacock had at no time been anything like an enrolled, much less a convinced, member of the Radical or any party. He may havebeen a Republican in his youth, though for my part I should like moretrustworthy evidence for it than that of Thomas Jefferson Hogg, a veryclever but a distinctly unscrupulous person. If he was--and it is not atall improbable that he had the Republican measles, a very common diseaseof youth, pretty early--he certainly had never been a democrat. Even hisearlier satire is double-edged; and, as must be constantly repeated andremembered, it was always his taste and his endeavour to shoot follyas it flew, to attack existent and not extinct forms of popular orfashionable delusion. Such follies, whether in 1860 or since, havecertainly not as a rule been of the aristocratic, monarchical, or Toryorder generally. 

He found plenty of these follies, however, in the other kind--the kindwhich he had begun to satirise smartly in _Crotchet Castle_--and heshowed pretty decisively that his hand had not lost its cunning, nor hissword its sharpness. The satire, though partly, is not mainly political;and it is an interesting detail (though it only refreshes the memory ofthose who knew the facts then or have studied them since) that barelyshe years before a far more sweeping reform than that of 1832, a veryacute judge who disliked and resisted it spoke of 'another reformlunacy' as 'not likely to arise in his time. ' And these words, itmust be remembered, are put in the mouth of Mr. MacBorrowdale, who isrepresented as merely middle-aged. 

It is fortunate, however, for the interest of _Gryll Grange_ thatpolitics, in the strict sense, occupy so small a part of it; for of allsubjects they lose interest first to all but a very select number ofreaders. The bulk of the satiric comment of the book is devoted eitherto purely social matters, or to the debateable land between these andpolitics proper. A little but not very much of this is obsolete orobsolescent. American slavery is no more; and the 'PantopragmaticSociety' (in official language the Social Science Congress) has ceasedto exist as a single recognised institution. But there is not much aboutslavery here, and if pantopragmatics have lost their special Societythey flourish more than ever as a general and fashionable subject ofhuman attention. You shall not open a number of the _Times_ twice, perhaps not once in a week, without finding columns of debate, harangue, or letter-writing purely pantopragmatical. 

Still more is this the case with another subject which has even moreattention, and on which what some think the central and golden sentenceof the book is laid down by Dr. Opimian in the often-quoted words, 'Ifall the nonsense which in the last quarter of a century [it is appallingto think that this quarter is getting on for three-quarters now] hasbeen talked on all other subjects were thrown into one scale, and allthat has been talked on the subject of Education alone were thrown intothe other, I think the latter would preponderate. ' Indeed it cannot besaid that after nearly five-and-thirty years, up to and including thepresent moment, during which Competitive Examination has been a field ofbattle, much has been added to Peacock's attack on it, or anything saidon the other side to weaken the cogency of that attack. No doubt he wasto some extent a prejudiced judge; for, though few people would at anytime of his youth have had less to fear from competitive examination, his own fortune had been made by the opposite system, and thecompetitive scheme must infallibly tend rather to exclude than to admitpersons like him. But a wise criticism does not ask cut bone in casesof argument, it simply looks to see whether the advocacy is sound, notwhether the advocate has received or expects his fee. And Peacock'sadvocacy is here not merely sound; it is, in so far as it goes, inexpugnable. It is true there is a still more irrefragable rejoinder toit which has kept competition safe hitherto, though for obvious reasonsit will very rarely be found openly expressed by the defenders of thesystem; and that is, that, under the popular jealousy resulting fromwide or universal suffrage, there is no alternative but competitiveexamination, or else the American system of alternating spoils tothe victors, which is demonstrably worse for the public, and notdemonstrably much better for private interests. 

As for table-turning, and lectures, and the 'excess of hurrying about, 'and 'Siberian' dinners and so forth, they are certainly not dead. Table-turning may have changed its name; the others have not evenadopted the well-known expedient of the alias, but appear just as theywere thirty years ago in the social and satiric dictionaries of to-day. 

It would be odd if this comparative freshness and actuality of subjectdid not make _Gryll Grange_ one of the lightest and brightest ofPeacock's novels; and I think it fully deserves that description. Butit would be doing it extremely scant justice to allow any one to supposethat its attractions consist solely, or even mainly, in 'valuablethoughts' and expressions of sense, satire, and scholarship (to combineWordsworth with Warrington). In lighter respects, in respects of formand movement, and it is absolutely impossible that he should have beenan Evangelical. 

We must not dismiss without some special mention the episode--though itis not properly an episode, inasmuch as it has throughout an importantconnection with the working of the story--of 'Aristophanes in London. 'This has sometimes been adversely criticised as not sufficientlyantique--which seems to overlook the obvious retort that if it had beenmore so it could not by any possibility have been sufficiently modern. Those who know something of Aristophanes and something of London maydoubt whether it could have established the nexus much better. Ihave elsewhere pointed out the curious connection with Mansel'sPhrontisterion, which was considerably earlier in date, and with thesentiments of which Peacock would have been in the heartiest agreement. But it is extremely unlikely that he ever saw it. His antipathy to theEnglish universities appears to have been one of the most enduring ofhis crazes, probably because it was always the most unreasonable; andthough there is no active renewal of hostilities in this novel (or noneof importance), it is noticeable there is also no direct or indirectpalinode as there is in most other cases. As for the play itself, itseems to me very good. Miss Gryll must have looked delightful asCirce (we get a more distinct description of her personality here thananywhere else), Gryllus has an excellent standpoint, and the dialogue, though unequal, is quite admirable at the best. Indeed there is aGilbertian tone about the whole piece which I should be rather moresurprised at being the first to note, so far as I know, if I were notpretty well prepared to find that the study of the average dramaticcritic is not much in Peacock. The choric trochees (which by the wayis a tautology) are of the highest excellence, especially the piecebeginning--

'As before the pike will fly'

in which Coeur-de-Lion's discomfiture of the 'septemvirate of quacks' ishymned; and the finale is quite Attic. I do not know whether the thinghas ever been attempted as an actual show. Though rather exacting in itsmachinery, it ought to have been. 

The novel is rather full of other verse, but except 'Love and Age'--sooften mentioned, but never to be mentioned enough for its strange andadmirable commixture of sense and sentiment, of knowledge of the heartand knowledge of life--this is not of the first class for Peacock, certainly not worthy to be ranked with the play. 'The Death of Philemon'is indeed a beautiful piece in its first half; the second were better'cut' 'The Dappled Palfrey, ' a very charming _fabliau_ in the original, chiefly suggests the superiority of _Lochinvar_ to which it is a sort ofcounterpart and complement. 'The New Order of Chivalry' with a good dealof truth has also a good deal of illiberality; and, amusing as it is, is a relapse into Peacock's old vein of almost insolent personality. Sir Moses Montefiore and Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy did not deserve, thoughthey might afford to despise, the sort of cheap rallying here applied tothem; and might have retaliated, not without point, on persons whodrew large salaries at the India House, with frequent additionalgratifications, and stood up for 'chivalry' in their leisure moments. And 'The Legend of St Laura' is not first rate. But the Italiantranslations make us wish for more of the same. 

On the whole, however, though we may like some things more and some lesshere, I cannot conceive the whole being otherwise than delightful to anyperson of knowledge, sense, and taste. And as we close Peacock's novelsthere is this interesting though rather melancholy thought that we'close the book' in more senses than one. They have never been imitatedsave afar off; and even the far-off imitations have not been verysatisfactory. The English Muse seems to have set, at the joining of theold and new ages, this one person with the learning and tastes of theancestors, with the irreverent criticism of the moderns, to comment onthe transition; and, having fashioned him, to have broken the mould. 

George Saintsbury. 

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER IMisnomers

CHAPTER IIThe Squire and his Niece

CHAPTER IIIThe Duke's Folly

CHAPTER IVThe Forest--A Soliloquy on Hair

CHAPTER V. The Seven Sisters

CHAPTER VIThe Rustic Lover

CHAPTER VIIThe Vicar and his Wife--Families of Love:--The Newspaper

CHAPTER VIIIPantopragmatics

CHAPTER IXSaint Catharine

CHAPTER XThe Thunderstorm

CHAPTER XIElectrical Science--The Death of Philemon

CHAPTER XIIThe Forest Dell--The Power of Love--The Lotteryof Marriage

CHAPTER XIIILord Curryfin--Siberian Dinners--Social Monotony

CHAPTER XIVMusic and Painting--Jack of Dover

CHAPTER XVExpression in Music--The Dappled Palfrey--Loveand Age--Competitive Examination

CHAPTER XVIMiss Niphet--The Theatre--The Lake--Divided Attraction--Infallible Safety

CHAPTER XVIIHorse-Taming--Love in Dilemma--Injunctions--Sonorous Vases

CHAPTER XVIIILectures--The Power of Public Opinion--A NewOrder of Chivalry

CHAPTER XIXA Symposium--Transatlantic Tendencies--After-Dinner Lectures--Education

CHAPTER XXAlgernon and Morgana--Opportunity and Repentance--The Forest in Winter

CHAPTER XXISkating--Pas de deux on the Ice--Congeniality--Flints among Bones

CHAPTER XXIIThe Seven against Thebes--A Soliloquy on Christmas

CHAPTER XXIIIThe two Quadrilles--Pope's Ombre--Poetical Truth toNature--Cleopatra

CHAPTER XXIVProgress of Sympathy--Love's Injunctions--OrlandoInnamorato

CHAPTER XXVHarry and Dorothy

CHAPTER XXVIDoubts and Questions

CHAPTER XXVIILove in Memory

CHAPTER XXVIIIAristophanes in London

CHAPTER XXIXThe Bald Venus--Inez de Castro--The Unity of Love

CHAPTER XXXA Captive Knight--Richard and Alice

CHAPTER XXXIA Twelfth-Night Ball--Pantopragmatic Cookery--Modern Vandalism--A Bowl of Punch

CHAPTER XXXIIHopes and Fears--Compensations in Life--AthenianComedy--Madeira and Music--Confidences

CHAPTER XXXIIIThe Conquest of Thebes

CHAPTER XXXIVChristmas Tales--Classical Tales of Wonder--TheHost's Ghost--A Tale of a Shadow--A Tale ofa Bogle--The Legend of St. Laura

CHAPTER XXXVRejected Suitors--Conclusion

GRYLL GRANGE

 Opinion governs all mankind, Like the blind leading of the blind:-- And like the world, men's jobbemoles Turn round upon their ears the poles, And what they're confidently told By no sense else can be controll'd. 

In the following pages the New Forest is always mentioned as if it werestill unenclosed. This is the only state in which the Author has beenacquainted with it. Since its enclosure, he has never seen it, andpurposes never to do so. 

The mottoes are sometimes specially apposite to the chapters to whichthey are prefixed; but more frequently to the general scope, or, toborrow a musical term, the _motivo_ of the _operetta_. 

CHAPTER I

MISNOMERS

 Ego sic semper et ubique vixi, ut ultimam quamque lucem, taraquam non redituram, consumerem. --Petronius Arbiter. 

 Always and everywhere I have so lived, that I might consume the passing light as if it were not to return. 

'Palestine soup!' said the Reverend Doctor Opimian, dining with hisfriend Squire Gryll; 'a curiously complicated misnomer. We have anexcellent old vegetable, the artichoke, of which we eat the head; wehave another of subsequent introduction, of which we eat the root, andwhich we also call artichoke, because it resembles the first in flavour, although, _me judice_, a very inferior affair. This last is a species ofthe helianthus, or sunflower genus of the _Syngenesia frustranea_ classof plants. It is therefore a girasol, or turn-to-the-sun. From thisgirasol we have made Jerusalem, and from the Jerusalem artichoke we makePalestine soup. '

_Mr. Gryll. _ A very good thing, doctor. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ A very good thing; but a palpable misnomer. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ I am afraid we live in a world of misnomers, and of a worsekind than this. In my little experience I have found that a gang ofswindling bankers is a respectable old firm; that men who sell theirvotes to the highest bidder, and want only 'the protection of theballot' to sell the promise of them to both parties, are a free andindependent constituency; that a man who successively betrays everybodythat trusts him, and abandons every principle he ever professed, is agreat statesman, and a Conservative, forsooth, _a nil conservando_; thatschemes for breeding pestilence are sanitary improvements; that the testof intellectual capacity is in swallow, and not in digestion; that theart of teaching everything, except what will be of use to the recipient, is national education; and that a change for the worse is reform. Lookacross the Atlantic. A Sympathiser would seem to imply a certain degreeof benevolent feeling. Nothing of the kind. It signifies a ready-madeaccomplice in any species of political villainy. A Know-Nothing wouldseem to imply a liberal self-diffidence--on the scriptural principlethat the beginning of knowledge is to know that thou art ignorant. No such thing. It implies furious political dogmatism, enforced bybludgeons and revolvers. A Locofoco is the only intelligible term:a fellow that would set any place on fire to roast his own eggs. AFilibuster is a pirate under national colours; but I suppose the word inits origin implies something virtuous: perhaps a friend of humanity. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ More likely a friend of roaring-(Greekphrase)--in the sense in which roaring is used by our old dramatists;for which see Middleton's _Roaring Girl_, and the commentators thereon. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ While we are on the subject of misnomers, what say you tothe wisdom of Parliament?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Why, sir, I do not call that a misnomer. Theterm wisdom is used in a parliamentary sense. The wisdom of Parliamentis a wisdom _sui generis_. It is not like any other wisdom. It is notthe wisdom of Socrates, nor the wisdom of Solomon. It is the wisdom ofParliament. It is not easily analysed or defined; but it is very easilyunderstood. It has achieved wonderful things by itself, and still morewhen Science has come to its aid. Between them they have poisoned theThames, and killed the fish in the river. A little further developmentof the same wisdom and science will complete the poisoning of the air, and kill the dwellers on the banks. It is pleasant that the preciouseffluvium has been brought so efficiently under the Wisdom's own wisenose. Thereat the nose, like Trinculo's, has been in great indignation. The Wisdom has ordered the Science to do something. The Wisdom doesnot know what, nor the Science either. But the Wisdom has empowered theScience to spend some millions of money; and this, no doubt, the Sciencewill do. When the money has been spent, it will be found that thesomething has been worse than nothing. The Science will want more moneyto do some other something, and the Wisdom will grant it. _Redit laboractus in orbem_. {1} But you have got on moral and political ground. My remark was merely on a perversion of words, of which we have aninexhaustible catalogue. 

__Mr. Gryll. __ Whatever ground we take, doctor, there is one pointcommon to most of these cases: the word presents an idea which does notbelong to the subject, critically considered. Palestine soup is notmore remote from the true Jerusalem, than many an honourable friend frompublic honesty and honour. However, doctor, what say you to a glass ofold Madeira, which I really believe is what it is called?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ _In vino Veritas_. I accept with pleasure. 

_Miss Gryll. _ You and my uncle, doctor, get up a discussion oneverything that presents itself; dealing with your theme like a seriesof variations in music. You have run half round the world _à propos_ ofthe soup. {1} What say you to the fish?

 1 The labour returns, compelled into a circle. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Premising that this is a remarkably fine sliceof salmon, there is much to be said about fish: but not in the way ofmisnomers. Their names are single and simple. Perch, sole, cod, eel, carp, char, skate, tench, trout, brill, bream, pike, and many others, plain monosyllables: salmon, dory, turbot, gudgeon, lobster, whitebait, grayling, haddock, mullet, herring, oyster, sturgeon, flounder, turtle, plain dissyllables: only two trisyllables worth naming, anchovy andmackerel; unless any one should be disposed to stand up for halibut, which, for my part, I have excommunicated. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ I agree with you on that point; but I think you have namedone or two that might as well keep it company. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I do not think I have named a singleunpresentable fish. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Bream, doctor: there is not much to be said for bream. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ On the contrary, sir, I think there is muchto be said for him. In the first place, there is the authority ofthe monastic brotherhoods, who are universally admitted to have beenconnoisseurs in fish, and in the mode of preparing it; and you willfind bream pie set down as a prominent item of luxurious living in theindictments prepared against them at the dissolution of the monasteries. The work of destruction was rather too rapid, and I fear the receiptis lost. But he can still be served up as an excellent stew, providedalways that he is full-grown, and has swum all his life in clear runningwater. I call everything fish that seas, lakes, and rivers furnish tocookery; though, scientifically, a turtle is a reptile, and a lobster aninsect. Fish, Miss Gryll--I could discourse to you on fish by the hour:but for the present I will forbear: as Lord Curryfin is coming down toThornback Bay, to lecture the fishermen on fish and fisheries, and toastonish them all with the science of their art You will, no doubt, becurious to hear him. There will be some reserved seats. 

_Miss Gryll. _ I shall be very curious to hear him, indeed. I have neverheard a lecturing lord. The fancy of lords and gentlemen to lectureeverybody on everything, everywhere, seems to me something very comical;but perhaps it is something very serious, gracious in the lecturer, and instructive to the audience. I shall be glad to be cured of myunbecoming propensity to laugh whenever I hear of a lecturing lord. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I hope, Miss Gryll, you will not laugh atLord Curryfin: for you may be assured nothing will be farther from hislordship's intention than to say anything in the slightest degree droll. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Doctor Johnson was astonished at the mania for lectures, even in his day, when there were no lecturing lords. He thought littlewas to be learned from lectures, unless where, as in chemistry, thesubject required illustration by experiment. Now, if your lord is goingto exhibit experiments in the art of cooking fish, with specimens insufficient number for all his audience to taste, I have no doubt hislecture will be well attended, and a repetition earnestly desired. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am afraid the lecture will not have the aidof such pleasant adventitious attractions. It will be a pure scientificexposition, carefully classified, under the several divisions andsubdivisions of Ichthyology, Entomology, Herpetology, and Conchology. But I agree with Doctor Johnson, that little is to be learned fromlectures. For the most part those who do not already understand thesubject will not understand the lecture, and those who do will learnnothing from it. The latter will hear many things they would like tocontradict, which the _bienséance_ of the lecture-room does not allow. I do not comprehend how people can find amusement in lectures. I shouldmuch prefer a _tenson_ of the twelfth century, when two or three mastersof the _Gai Saber_ discussed questions of love and chivalry. 

_Miss Gryll. _ I am afraid, doctor, our age is too prosy for that sortof thing. We have neither wit enough, nor poetry enough, to furnish thedisputants. I can conceive a state of society in which such _tensons_would form a pleasant winter evening amusement: but that state ofsociety is not ours. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Well, Miss Gryll, I should like, some winterevening, to challenge you to a _tenson_, and your uncle should beumpire. I think you have wit enough by nature, and I have poetry enoughby memory, to supply a fair portion of the requisite materials, withoutassuming an absolute mastery of the _Gai Saber_. 

_Miss Gryll. _ I shall accept the challenge, doctor. The wit on one sidewill, I am afraid, be very shortcoming; but the poetry on the other willno doubt be abundant. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Suppose, doctor, you were to get up a _tenson_ a littlemore relative to our own wise days. Spirit-rapping, for example, is afine field. _Nec pueri credunt. .. Sed tu vera puta_. {1} You mightgo beyond the limits of a _tenson_. There is ample scope for anAristophanic comedy. In the contest between the Just and the Unjustin the _Clouds_, and in other scenes of Aristophanes, you have ancientspecimens of something very like _tensons_, except that love has notmuch share in them. Let us for a moment suppose this same spirit-rappingto be true--dramatically so, at least. Let us fit up a stage for thepurpose: make the invoked spirits visible as well as audible: andcalling before us some of the illustrious of former days, ask themwhat they think of us and our doings? Of our astounding progress ofintellect? Our march of mind? Our higher tone of morality? Our vastdiffusion of education? Our art of choosing the most unfit man bycompetitive examination?

 1 Not even boys believe it: but suppose it to be true. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You had better not bring on many of them atonce, nor ask many similar questions, or the chorus of ghostly laughterwill be overwhelming. I imagine the answer would be something likeHamlets: 'You yourselves, sirs, shall be as wise as we were, if, likecrabs, you could go backward. ' It is thought something wonderful thatuneducated persons should believe in witchcraft in the nineteenthcentury: as if educated persons did not believe in grosser follies:such as this same spirit-rapping, unknown tongues, clairvoyance, table-turning, and all sorts of fanatical impositions, having for thepresent their climax in Mormonism. Herein all times are alike. Thereis nothing too monstrous for human credulity. I like the notion of theAristophanic comedy. But it would require a numerous company, especiallyas the chorus is indispensable. The _tenson_ may be carried on by two. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ I do not see why we should not have both. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Oh pray, doctor! let us have the comedy. We hope to havea houseful at Christmas, and I think we may get it up well, chorus andall. I should so like to hear what my great ancestor, Gryllus, thinksof us: and Homer, and Dante, and Shakespeare, and Richard the First, andOliver Cromwell. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ A very good _dramatis personae_. With these, and the help of one or two Athenians and Romans, we may arrive at atolerable judgment on our own immeasurable superiority to everythingthat has gone before us. 

Before we proceed further, we will give some account of ourinterlocutors. 

CHAPTER II

THE SQUIRE AND HIS NIECE

 FORTUNA . SPONDET . MULTA . MULTIS . PRAESTAT . NEM1NI . VIVE . IN . DIES . ET . HORAS . NAM . PROPRIUM . EST . NIHIL. {1} Marmor vetus apud Feam, ad Hor. Epist. I. Ii, 23. 

 Fortune makes many promises to many, Keeps them to none. Live to the days and hours, For nothing is your own. 

Gregory Gryll, Esq. , of _Gryll Grange_ in Hampshire, on the bordersof the New Forest, in the midst of a park which was a little forest initself, reaching nearly to the sea, and well stocked with deer, havinga large outer tract, where a numerous light-rented and well-conditionedtenantry fattened innumerable pigs, considering himself well located forwhat he professed to be, _Epicuri de grege porcus_, {2} and held, thoughhe found it difficult to trace the pedigree, that he was lineallydescended from the ancient and illustrious Gryllus, who maintainedagainst Ulysses the superior happiness of the life of other animals tothat of the life of man. {3}

 1 This inscription appears to consist of comic senarii, slightly dislocated for the inscriptional purpose. 

 Spondet Fortuna multa multis, praestat nemini. Vive in dies et horas: nam proprium est nihil. 

 2 _A pig from the herd of Epicurus_. The old philosophers accepted good-humouredly the disparaging terms attached to them by their enemies or rivals. The Epicureans acquiesced in the pig, the Cynics in the dog, and Cleanthes was content to be called the Ass of Zeno, as being alone capable of bearing the burthen of the Stoic philosophy. 

 3 Plutarch. _Bruta animalia raiione uti. _ Gryllus in this dialogue seems to have the best of the argument. Spenser, however, did not think. .. . So, when he introduced his Gryll, in the Paradise of Acrasia, reviling Sir Guyon's Palmer for having restored him to the human form. 

 Streightway he with his virtuous staff them strooke, And streight of beasts they comely men became: Yet being men they did unmanly looke, And stared ghastly, some for inward shame, And some for wrath to see their captive dame: But one above the rest in speciall, That had an hog been late, hight Grylle by name, Repyned greatly, and did him miscall, That had from hoggish forme him brought to naturall. 

 Said Guyon: 'See the mind of beastly man, That hath so soon forgot the excellence Of his creation when he life began, That now he chooseth, with vile difference, To be a beast, and lacke intelligence. '

 Fairy Queen, book ii. Canto 12. 

 In Plutarch's dialogue, Ulysses, after his own companions have been restored to the human form, solicits Circe to restore in the same manner any other Greeks who may be under her enchantments. Circe consents, provided they desire it. Gryllus, endowed with speech for the purpose, answers for all, that they had rather remain as they are; and supports the decision by showing the greater comfort of their condition as it is, to what it would probably be if they were again sent forth to share the common lot of mankind. We have unfortunately only the beginning of the dialogue, of which the greater portion has perished. 

It might be seen that, to a man who traced his ancestry from the palaceof Circe, the first care would be the continuance of his ancient race;but a wife presented to him the forethought of a perturbation of hisequanimity, which he never could bring himself to encounter. He liked todine well, and withal to dine quietly, and to have quiet friends at histable, with whom he could discuss questions which might afford ampleroom for pleasant conversation, and none for acrimonious dispute. Hefeared that a wife would interfere with his dinner, his company, and hisafter-dinner bottle of port. For the perpetuation of his name, herelied on an orphan niece, whom he had brought up from a child, whosuperintended his household, and sate at the head of his table. She wasto be his heiress, and her husband was to take his name. He left thechoice to her, but reserved to himself a veto, if he should think theaspirant unworthy of the honourable appellation. 

The young lady had too much taste, feeling, and sense to be likely tomake a choice which her uncle would not approve; but time, as it rolledon, foreshadowed a result which the squire had not anticipated. MissGryll did not seem likely to make any choice at all. The atmosphere ofquiet enjoyment in which she had grown up seemed to have steeped herfeelings in its own tranquillity; and still more, the affection whichshe felt for her uncle, and the conviction that, though he had alwayspremeditated her marriage, her departure from his house would be theseverest blow that fate could inflict on him, led her to postpone whatshe knew must be an evil day to him, and might peradventure not be agood one to her. 

'Oh, the ancient name of Gryll!; sighed the squire to himself. 'What ifit should pass away in the nineteenth century, after having lived fromthe time of Circe!'

Often, indeed, when he looked at her at the head of his table, the starof his little circle, joyous herself, and the source of joy in others, he thought the actual state of things admitted no change for the better, and the perpetuity of the old name became a secondary consideration; butthough the purpose was dimmed in the evening, it usually brightened inthe morning. In the meantime, the young lady had many suitors, whowere permitted to plead their cause, though they made little apparentprogress. 

Several young gentlemen of fair promise, seemingly on the point of beingaccepted, had been, each in his turn, suddenly and summarily dismissed. Why, was the young lady's secret. If it were known, it would be easy, she said, in these days of artificial manners, to counterfeit thepresence of the qualities she liked, and, still more easy, the absenceof the qualities she disliked. There was sufficient diversity in thecharacters of the rejected to place conjecture at fault, and Mr. Gryllbegan to despair. 

The uncle and niece had come to a clear understanding on this subject. He might present to her attention any one whom he might deem worthyto be her suitor, and she might reject the suitor without assigning areason for so doing. In this way several had appeared and passed away, like bubbles on a stream. 

[Illustration: Was the young lady too fastidious. 043-12]

Was the young lady over fastidious, or were none among the presentedworthy, or had that which was to touch her heart not yet appeared?

Mr. Gryll was the godfather of his niece, and to please him, she hadbeen called Morgana. He had had some thoughts of calling her Circe, butacquiesced in the name of a sister enchantress, who had worked out herown idea of a beautiful garden, and exercised similar power over theminds and forms of men. 

CHAPTER III

THE DUKE'S FOLLY

 Moisten your lungs with wine. The dog-star's sway Returns, and all things thirst beneath his ray. Alcaeus

 Falernum. Opimianum. Annorum. Centum. Heu! Heu! inquit Trimalchio, ergo diutius vivit vinum quam homuncio! Quare reyye reviovas faciamus. Vita vinum est. -- Petronius Arbiter. 

 Falernian Opimian Wine an hundred years old. Alas! Alas! exclaimed Trimalchio. This wine lives longer than man! Wherefore let us sing, 'moisten your lungs. ' Wine is life. 

Wordsworth's question, in his Poets Epitaph, Art thou a man of purple cheer, A rosy man, right plump to see?

might have been answered in the affirmative by the Reverend DoctorOpimian. The worthy divine dwelt in an agreeably situated vicarage, onthe outskirts of the New Forest. A good living, a comfortable patrimony, a moderate dowry with his wife, placed him sufficiently above the caresof the world to enable him to gratify all his tastes without minutecalculations of cost. His tastes, in fact, were four: a good library, agood dinner, a pleasant garden, and rural walks. He was an athlete inpedestrianism. He took no pleasure in riding, either on horseback or ina carriage; but he kept a brougham for the service of Mrs. Opimian, andfor his own occasional use in dining out. 

[Illustration: The Rev. Doctor Opimian. 047-16]

Mrs. Opimian was domestic. The care of the doctor had supplied her withthe best books on cookery, to which his own inventive genius and thekindness of friends had added a large, and always increasing manuscriptvolume. The lady studied them carefully, and by diligent superintendenceleft the doctor nothing to desire in the service of his table. Hiscellar was well stocked with a selection of the best vintages, under hisown especial charge. In all its arrangements his house was a model oforder and comfort; and the whole establishment partook of the genialphysiognomy of the master. From the master and mistress to the cook, andfrom the cook to the torn cat, there was about the inhabitants of thevicarage a sleek and purring rotundity of face and figure that denotedcommunity of feelings, habits, and diet; each in its kind, of course, for the doctor had his port, the cook her ale, and the cat his milk, insufficiently liberal allowance. In the morning while Mrs. Opimian foundample occupation in the details of her household duties and the care ofher little family, the doctor, unless he had predestined the whole dayto an excursion, studied in his library. In the afternoon he walked; inthe evening he dined; and after dinner read to his wife and family, orheard his children read to him. This was his home life. Now and then hedined out; more frequently than at any other place with his friend andneighbour, Mr. Gryll, who entirely sympathised with him in his taste fora good dinner. 

Beyond the limits of his ordinary but within those of his occasionalrange was a solitary round tower on an eminence backed with wood, whichhad probably in old days been a landmark for hunters; but having inmodern days no very obvious use, was designated, as many such buildingsare, by the name of The Folly. The country people called it 'The Duke'sFolly, ' though who the Duke in question was nobody could tell. Traditionhad dropped his name. 

One fine Midsummer day, with a southerly breeze and a cloudless sky, thedoctor, having taken an early breakfast, in the progress of which hehad considerably reduced the altitude of a round of beef, set out witha good stick in his hand and a Newfoundland dog at his heels for one ofhis longest walks, such as he could only take in the longest days. 

Arriving at the Folly, which he had not visited for a long time, he wassurprised to find it enclosed, and having at the back the novelty of acovered passage, built of the same gray stone as the tower itself. Thispassage passed away into the wood at the back, whence was ascendinga wreath of smoke which immediately recalled to him the dwelling ofCirce. {1} Indeed, the change before him had much the air of enchantment;and the Circean similitude was not a little enhanced by the antiquemasonry, {2} and the expanse of sea which was visible from the eminence. He leaned over the gate, repeated aloud the lines of the _Odyssey_, andfell into a brown study, from which he was aroused by the approach of ayoung gentleman from within the enclosure. 

 1 (Greek passage) Od. K 145-152. I climbed a cliff with spear and sword in hand, Whose ridge o'erlooked a shady length of land: To learn if aught of mortal works appear, Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the ear. From the high point I marked, in distant view, A stream of curling smoke ascending blue, And spiry tops, the tufted trees above, Of Circe's palace bosomed in the grove. Thither to haste, the region to explore, Was first my thought. . . 

 2 (Greek passage) Id. 210, 211. 

 The palace in a woody vale they found, High-raised of stone, a shaded space around. Pope. 

'I beg your pardon, sir, ' said the doctor, 'but my curiosity is excitedby what I see here; and if you do not think it impertinent, and wouldinform me how these changes have come about, I should be greatlyobliged. '

'Most willingly, sir, ' said the other; 'but if you will walk in, and seewhat has been done, the obligation will be mine. '

The doctor readily accepted the proposal. The stranger led the way, across an open space in the wood, to a circular hall, from each sideof which a wide passage led, on the left hand to the tower, and on theright to the new building, which was so masked by the wood as not to bevisible except from within the glade. It was a square structure of plainstone, much in the same style as that of the tower. 

The young gentleman took the left-hand passage, and introduced thedoctor to the lower floor of the tower. 

'I have divided the tower, ' he observed, 'into three rooms: one on eachfloor. This is the dining-room; above it is my bedroom; above it againis my library. The prospect is good from all the floors, but from thelibrary it is most extensive, as you look over the woods far away intothe open sea. '

'A noble dining-room, ' said the doctor. 'The height is well proportionedto the diameter. That circular table well becomes the form of the room, and gives promise of a fine prospect in its way. '

'I hope you will favour me by forming a practical judgment on thepoint, ' said his new acquaintance, as he led the way to the upper floor, the doctor marvelling at the extreme courtesy with which he was treated. 'This building, ' thought he, 'might belong to the age of chivalry, andmy host might be Sir Calidore himself. ' But the library brought him backto other days. 

The walls were covered with books, the upper portion accessible by agallery, running entirely round the apartment. The books of the lowercircle were all classical; those of the upper, English, Italian, andFrench, with a few volumes in Spanish. 

The young gentleman took down a Homer, and pointed out to the doctorthe passage which, as he leaned over the gate, he had repeated from the_Odyssey_, This accounted to the doctor for the deference shown to him. He saw at once into the Greek sympathy. 

'You have a great collection of books, ' said the doctor. 

'I believe, ' said the young gentleman, 'I have all the best books inthe languages I cultivate. Home Tooke says: "Greek, Latin, Italian, and French, are unfortunately the usual bounds of an English scholar'sacquisition. " I think any scholar fortunate whose acquisition extendsso far. These languages and our own comprise, I believe, with a few rareexceptions, all the best books in the world. I may add Spanish for thesake of Cervantes, Lope de Vega, and Calderon. {1}

 1 Mr. Buchanan says that Peacock learned Spanish at an advanced period of life, which ought to have been mentioned in our introductory memoir. Scarcely a Spanish book, however, appears in the catalogue of his library. --G. 

It was a _dictum_ of Porson, that "Life is too short to learn German ":meaning, I apprehend, not that it is too difficult to be acquiredwithin the ordinary space of life, but that there is nothing in it tocompensate for the portion of life bestowed on its acquirement, howeverlittle that may be. '{1}

 1 Mr. Hayward's French hotel-keeper in Germany had a different, but not less cogent reason for not learning German. 'Whenever a dish attracts attention by the art displayed in its conception or preparation, apart from the material, the artist will commonly be discovered to be French. Many years ago we had the curiosity to inquire at the Hôtel de France, at Dresden, to whom our party were indebted for the enjoyment they had derived from a _suprême de volaille_, and were informed the cook and the master of the hotel were one and the same person: a Frenchman, _ci- devant chef_ of a Russian minister. He had been eighteen years in Germany, but knew not a word of any language but his own. "_A quoi bon, messieurs_" was his reply to our expression of astonishment; "_à quoi bon apprendre la langue d'un peuple qui ne possède pas une cuisine?_" '--_Art of Dining_, pp, 69, 70. 

The doctor was somewhat puzzled what to say. He had some French and moreItalian, being fond of romances of chivalry; and in Greek and Latinhe thought himself a match for any man; but he was more occupied withspeculations on the position and character of his new acquaintance thanon the literary opinions he was enunciating. He marvelled to find ayoung man, rich enough to do what he here saw done, doing anythingof the kind, and fitting up a library in a solitary tower, insteadof passing his time in clubs and _réunions_, and other pursuits andpleasures of general society. But he thought it necessary to saysomething to the point, and rejoined:

'Porson was a great man, and his _dictum_ would have weighed with me ifI had had a velleity towards German; but I never had any. But I ratherwonder you should have placed your library on the upper instead of themiddle floor. The prospect, as you have observed, is fine from all thefloors; but here you have the sea and the sky to the greatest advantage;and I would assign my best look-out to the hours of dressing andundressing; the first thing in the morning, the last at night, and thehalf-hour before dinner. You can give greater attention to the viewsbefore you when you are following operations, important certainly, butmechanical from repetition, and uninteresting in themselves, than whenyou are engaged in some absorbing study, which probably shuts out allperception of the external world. '

'What you say is very true, sir, ' said the other; 'but you know thelines of Milton--

 'Or let my lamp, at midnight hour, Be seen in some high lonely tower, Where I may oft outwatch the Bear, With thrice great Hermes. 

'These lines have haunted me from very early days, and principallyinfluenced me in purchasing this tower, and placing my library on thetop of it. And I have another association with such a mode of life. '

A French clock in the library struck two, and the young gentlemanproposed to his visitor to walk into the house. They accordinglydescended the stairs, and crossed the entrance-hall to a largedrawing-room, simply but handsomely furnished; having some good pictureson the walls, an organ at one end of the room, a piano and harp at theother, and an elegantly-disposed luncheon in the middle. 

'At this time of the year, ' said the young gentleman, 'I lunch at two, and dine at eight. This gives me two long divisions of the morning, forany in-door and out-door purposes. I hope you will partake with me. Youwill not find a precedent in Homer for declining the invitation. '

'Really, ' said the doctor, 'that argument is cogent and conclusive. Iaccept with pleasure: and indeed my long walk has given me an appetite. '

'Now you must know, ' said the young gentleman, 'I have none but femaledomestics. You will see my two waiting-maids. '

He rang the bell, and the specified attendants appeared: two younggirls about sixteen and seventeen; both pretty, and simply, but verybecomingly, dressed. 

Of the provision set before him the doctor preferred some cold chickenand tongue. Madeira and sherry were on the table, and the youngattendants offered him hock and claret. The doctor took a capaciousglass from each of the fair cup-bearers, and pronounced both winesexcellent, and deliciously cool. He declined more, not to overheathimself in walking, and not to infringe on his anticipations of dinner. The dog, who had behaved throughout with exemplary propriety, was notforgotten. The doctor rose to depart. 

'I think, ' said his host, 'I may now ask you the Homericquestion--(Greek phrase){1}

 1 Who, and whence, are you?

'Most justly, ' said the doctor. My name is Theophilus Opimian. I am aDoctor of Divinity, and the incumbent of Ashbrook-cum-Ferndale. '

'I am simply, ' said the other, 'Algernon Falconer. I have inheritedsome money, but no land. Therefore, having the opportunity, I made thispurchase to fit it up in my own fashion, and live in it in my own way. '

The doctor preparing to depart, Mr. Falconer proposed to accompanyhim part of the way, and calling out another Newfoundland dog, whoimmediately struck up a friendship with his companion, he walked awaywith the doctor, the two dogs gamboling before them. 

CHAPTER IV

THE FOREST--A SOLILOQUY ON HAIR

 Mille hominum species, et rerum discolor usus: Velle suum cuique est, nee voto vivitur uno. Persius. 

 In mind and taste men differ as in frame: Each has his special will, and few the same. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian_. It strikes me as singular that, with such ahouse, you should have only female domestics. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ It is not less singular perhaps that they are sevensisters, all the children of two old servants of my father and mother. The eldest is about my own age, twenty-six, so that they have all grownup with me in time and place. They live in great harmony together, anddivide among them the charge of all the household duties. Those whom yousaw are the two youngest. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ If the others acquit themselves as well, youhave a very efficient staff; but seven young women as the establishmentof one young bachelor, for such I presume you to be (_Mr. Falconerassented_), is something new and strange. The world is not overcharitable. 

[Illustration: Seven young women in a bachelor's establishment. 056-24

_Mr. Falconer. _ The world will never suppose a good motive where it cansuppose a bad one. I would not willingly offend any of its prejudices. Iwould not affect eccentricity. At the same time, I do not feel disposedto be put out of my way because it is not the way of the world--_LeChemin du Monde_, as a Frenchman entitled Congreve's comedy{1}--but Iassure you these seven young women live here as they might do in thetemple of Vesta. 

 1 Congreve, le meilleur auteur comique d'Angleterre: ses pièces les plus estimées sont Le Fourbe, Le Vieux Garçon, Amour pour Amour, L Epouse du Matin, Le Chemin du Monde. -- Manuel Bibliographique. Par G. Peignot. Paris, 1800. 

It was a singular combination of circumstances that induced and enabledme to form such an establishment; but I would not give it up, nor alterit, nor diminish it, nor increase it, for any earthly consideration. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You hinted that, besides Milton's verses, youhad another association of ideas with living in the top of a tower. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I have read of somebody who lived so, and admitted tohis _sanctum_ only one young person, a niece or a daughter, I forgetwhich, but on very rare occasions would descend to speak to somevisitor who had previously propitiated the young lady to obtain him aninterview. At last the young lady introduced one who proposed for her, and gained the consent of the recluse (I am not sure of his name, butI always call him Lord Noirmont) to carry her off. I think this wasassociated with some affliction that was cured, or some mystery that wassolved, and that the hermit returned into the everyday world. I do notknow where I read it, but I have always liked the idea of living likeLord Noirmont, when I shall have become a sufficiently disappointed man. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You look as little like a disappointed man asany I have seen; but as you have neither daughter nor niece, you wouldhave seven links instead of one between the top of your tower and theexternal world. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ We are all born to disappointment. It is as well to beprospective. Our happiness is not in what is, but in what is to be. Wemay be disappointed in our everyday realities, and if not, we may makean ideality of the unattainable, and quarrel with Nature for not givingwhat she has not to give. It is unreasonable to be so disappointed, butit is disappointment not the less. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It is something like the disappointment of themen of Gotham, when they could not fish up the moon from the sea. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ It is very like it, and there are more of us in thepredicament of the men of Gotham than are ready to acknowledge thesimilitude. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am afraid I am too matter-of-fact tosympathise very clearly with this form of aestheticism; but here is acharming bit of forest scenery. Look at that old oak with the deerunder it; the long and deep range of fern running up from it to thatbeech-grove on the upland, the lights and shadows on the projections andrecesses of the wood, and the blaze of foxglove in its foreground. It isa place in which a poet might look for a glimpse of a Hamadryad. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Very beautiful for the actual present--too beautiful forthe probable future. Some day or other the forest will be disforested;the deer will be either banished or destroyed; the wood will be eithershut up or cut down. Here is another basis for disappointment. The morewe admire it now, the more we shall regret it then. The admiration ofsylvan and pastoral scenery is at the mercy of an Enclosure Act, and, instead of the glimpse of a Hamadryad, you will some time see a largeboard warning you off the premises under penalty of rigour of law. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ But, my dear young friend, you have yourselfenclosed a favourite old resort of mine and of many others. I did notsee such a board as you speak of; but there is an effective fence whichanswers the purpose. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ True; but when the lot of crown land was put up forsale, it was sure to be purchased and shut up by somebody. At any rate, I have not interfered with the external picturesque; and I have beenmuch more influenced by an intense desire of shutting up myself than ofshutting up the place, merely because it is my property. 

About half-way from their respective homes the two new friendsseparated, the doctor having promised to walk over again soon to dineand pass the night. 

The doctor soliloquised as he walked. 

'Strange metamorphosis of the old tower. A good dining-room. A goodlibrary. A bedroom between them: he did not show it me. Good wine:excellent. Pretty waiting-maids, exceedingly pretty. Two of sevenVestals, who maintain the domestic fire on the hearth of the young Numa. By the way, they had something of the Vestal costume: white dresses withpurple borders. But they had nothing on their heads but their own hair, very gracefully arranged. The Vestals had head-dresses, which hid theirhair, if they had any. They were shaved on admission. Perhaps the hairwas allowed to grow again. Perhaps not. I must look into the point. Ifnot, it was a wise precaution. "Hair, the only grace of form, "{1} saysthe _Arbiter elegantiarum_, who compares a bald head to a fungus. {2} Ahead without hair, says Ovid, is as a field without grass, and a shrubwithout leaves. {3} Venus herself, if she had appeared with a bald head, would not have tempted Apuleius: {4} and I am of his mind. A husband, inMenander, in a fit of jealous madness, shaves his wife's head; and whenhe sees what he has made of her, rolls at her feet in a paroxysm ofremorse. He was at any rate safe from jealousy till it grew again. Andhere is a subtlety of Euripides, which none of his commentatorshave seen into. Ægisthus has married Electra to a young farmer, whocultivates his own land. He respects the Princess from magnanimity, andrestores her a pure virgin to her brother Orestes. "Not probable, " saysome critics. But I say highly probable: for she comes on with her headshaved. There is the talisman, and the consummate artifice of thegreat poet. It is ostensibly a symbol of grief; but not the less amost efficient ally of the aforesaid magnanimity. "In mourning, " saysAristotle, "sympathising with the dead, we deform ourselves by cuttingoff our hair. " And truly, it is. 

 1 Quod solum formse decus est, cecidere capilli. --Petronius, c. 109. 

 2. . . Laevior. . . Rotundo Horti tubere, quod creavit unda. _Ibid_. 'A head, to speak in the gardener's style, is a bulbous excrescence, growing up between the shoulders. '--G. A. Steevens: _Lecture on Heads_. 

 3 Turpe pecus mutilum; turpe est sine gramme campus; Et sine fronde frutex; et sine crine caput. Ovid: Arks Amatorio, iii. 249. 

 4 At vero, quod nefas dicere, neque sit ullum hujus rei tam dirum exemplum: si cujuslibet eximiae pulcherrimaeque fominae caput capillo exspoliaveris, et faciem nativa specie nudaveris, licet ilia coelo dejecta, mari édita, fluctibus educata, licet, inquam, Venus ipsa fuerit, licet omni Gratiarum choro stipata, et toto Cupidinum populo comitata, et balteo suo cincta, cinnama fragrans, et balsama rorans, calva processerit, placere non potent nee Vulcano suo. -- Apuleius: _Metamorph_. Ii. 25. 

But, indeed, what it is profanation to speak, nor let there be hereofany so dire example, if you despoil of its hair the head of any mosttranscendent and perfectly beautiful woman, and present her face thusdenuded of its native loveliness, though it were even she, the descendedfrom heaven, the born of the sea, the educated in the waves, though, Isay, it were Venus herself, attended by the Graces, surrounded by theLoves, cinctured with her girdle, fragrant with spices, and dewy withbalsams, yet, if she appeared with a bald head, she could not pleaseeven her own Vulcan. A woman's head shaved is a step towards a death'shead. As a symbol of grief it was not necessary to the case of Electra;for in the sister tragedies of Æschylus and Sophocles her grief isequally great, and she appears with flowing hair; but in them she is anunmarried maid, and there is no dramatic necessity for so conspicuous anantidote to her other charms. Neither is it according to custom; for inrecent grief the whole hair was sacrificed, but in the memory of anold sorrow only one or two curls were cut off. {1} Therefore, it was thedramatic necessity of a counter-charm that influenced Euripides. Helenknew better than to shave her head in a case where custom requiredit. Euripides makes Electra reproach Helen for thus preserving herbeauty;{2} which further illustrates his purpose in shaving the head ofElectra where custom did not require it. And Terence showed his tastein not shaving the head of his heroine in the _Phormio_, though theseverity of Athenian custom would have required it. Her beauty shonethrough her dishevelled hair, but with no hair at all she would not havetouched the heart of Antipho. 

 1 Sophocles: Electra, v. 449. 

 2 Euripides: Orestes, v. 128. 

But wherefore does my mind discourse these things to me, suspendingdismal images on lovely realities? for the luxuriant hair of these younggirls is of no ordinary beauty. Their tresses have not been depositedunder the shadow of the sacred lotus, as Pliny tells us those ofthe Vestals were. Well, this young gentleman's establishment may beperfectly moral, strictly correct, but in one sense it is moralitythrown away: the world will give him no credit for it. I am sure Mrs. Opimian will not. If he were married it would be different. But I think, if he were to marry now, there would be a fiercer fire than Vesta'samong his Lares. The temple would be too hot for the seven virgins. Isuppose, as he is so resolute against change, he does not mean to marry. Then he talks about anticipated disappointment in some unrealisableideality, leading him to live like Lord Noirmont, whom I never heard ofbefore. He is far enough off from that while he lunches and walks as hedoes, and no doubt dines in accordance. He will not break his heart forany moon in the water, if his cooks are as good as his waiting-maids, and the wine which he gave me is a fair specimen of his cellar. He islearned too. Greek seems to be the strongest chord in his sympathies. Ifit had not been for the singular accident of his overhearing me repeathalf a dozen lines of Homer, I should not have been asked to walk in. Imight have leaned over the gate till sunset, and have had no more noticetaken of me than if I had been a crow. '

At dinner the doctor narrated his morning adventure to Mrs. Opimian, and found her, as he had anticipated, most virtuously uncharitablewith respect to the seven sisters. She did not depart from her usualserenity, but said, with equal calmness and decision, that she had nobelief in the virtue of young men. 

'My dear, ' said the doctor, 'it has been observed, though I forget bywhom, that there is in every man's life a page which is usually doubleddown. Perhaps there is such a page in the life of our young friend; butif there be, the volume which contains it is not in the same house withthe seven sisters. '

[Illustration: Verifying the question of hair of the Vestals. 063-33]

The doctor could not retire to rest without verifying his questiontouching the hair of the Vestals; and stepping into his study, wastaking out an old folio, to consult _Lipsius de Vestalibus_, when apassage flashed across his memory which seemed decisive on the point. 'How could I overlook it?' he thought--

 'Ignibus Iliacis aderam: cum lapsa capillis Decidit ante sacros lanea vitta focos:{1}

says Rhea Sylvia in the _Fasti. _'

He took down the _Fasti_, and turning over the leaves, lighted onanother line:--

 Attonitæ flebant demisso crine ministræ. {2}

With the note of an old commentator: 'This will enlighten those whodoubt if the Vestals wore their hair. ' 'I infer, ' said the doctor, 'thatI have doubted in good company; but it is clear that the Vestals didwear their hair of second growth. 

 1 The woollen wreath, by Vesta's inmost shrine, Fell from my hair before the fire divine. 

 2 With hair dishevelled wept the vestal train. 

But if it was wrapped up in wool, it might as well not have been there. The _vitta_ was at once the symbol and the talisman of chastity. ShallI recommend my young friend to wrap up the heads of his Vestals in a_vitta?_ It would be safer for all parties. But I cannot imagine apiece of advice for which the giver would receive less thanks. And I hadrather see them as they are. So I shall let well alone. '

CHAPTER V

THE SEVEN SISTERS

 (Greek passage. ) Euripides: Alcestis. 

 Rejoice thy spirit: drink: the passing day Esteem thine own, and all beyond as Fortune's. 

The doctor was not long without remembering his promise to revisit hisnew acquaintance, and, purposing to remain till the next morning, he setout later in the day. The weather was intensely hot: he walked slowly, and paused more frequently than usual, to rest under the shade of trees. He was shown into the drawing-room, where he was shortly joined by Mr. Falconer, and very cordially welcomed. 

The two friends dined together in the lower room of the tower. Thedinner and wine were greatly to the doctor's mind. In due time theyadjourned to the drawing-room, and the two young handmaids whohad waited at dinner attended with coffee and tea. The doctor thensaid--'You are well provided with musical instruments. Do you play?'

_Mr. Falconer. _ No. I have profited by the observation of DoctorJohnson: 'Sir, once on a time I took to fiddling; but I found thatto fiddle well I must fiddle all my life, and I thought I could dosomething better. '

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Then, I presume, these are pieces of ornamentalfurniture, for the use of occasional visitors?

_Mr. Falconer. _ Not exactly. My maids play on them, and sing to them. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Your maids!

_Mr. Falconer. _ Even so. They have been thoroughly well educated, andare all accomplished musicians. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And at what time do they usually play on them?

_Mr. Falconer. _ Every evening about this time, when I am alone. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And why not when you have company?

_Mr. Falconer. _ La Morgue aristocratique, which pervades all society, would not tolerate such a proceeding on the part of young women, ofwhom some had superintended the preparation of the dinner, and othersattended on it. It would not have been incongruous in the Homeric age. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Then I hope you will allow it to be notincongruous this evening, Homer being the original vinculum between youand me. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Would you like to hear them?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Indeed I should. 

The two younger sisters having answered the summons, and the doctor'swish having been communicated, the seven appeared together, all in thesame dress of white and purple. 

'The seven Pleiads!' thought the doctor. 'What a constellationof beauty!' He stood up and bowed to them, which they gracefullyacknowledged. 

They then played on, and sang to, the harp and piano. The doctor wasenchanted. 

After a while, they passed over to the organ, and performed some sacredmusic of Mozart and Beethoven. They then paused and looked round, as iffor instructions. 

'We usually end, ' said Mr. Falconer, 'with a hymn to St. Catharine, butperhaps it may not be to your taste; although Saint Catharine is a saintof the English Church Calendar. '

'I like all sacred music, ' said the doctor. 'And I am not disposed toobject to a saint of the English Church Calendar. '

'She is also, ' said Mr. Falconer, 'a most perfect emblem of purity, andin that sense alone there can be no fitter image to be presented to theminds of young women. '

'Very true, ' said the doctor. 'And very strange withal, ' he thought tohimself. 

The sisters sang their hymn, made their obeisance, and departed. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ The hands of these young women do not show signsof menial work. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ They are the regulating spirits of the household. Theyhave a staff of their own for the coarser and harder work. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Their household duties, then, are such asHomeric damsels discharged in the homes of their fathers, with (Greekword) for the lower drudgery? _Mr. Falconer. _ Something like it. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Young ladies, in short, in manners andaccomplishments, though not in social position; only more useful in ahouse than young ladies generally are. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Something like that, too. If you know the tree by itsfruit, the manner in which this house is kept may reconcile you to thesingularity of the experiment. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am perfectly reconciled to it. The experimentis eminently successful. 

The doctor always finished his day with a tumbler of brandy and water:soda water in summer, and hot water in winter. After his usual draughthe retired to his chamber, where he slept like a top, and dreamed ofElectra and Nausicaa, Vestals, Pleiads, and Saint Catharine, and wokewith the last words he had heard sung on the preceding night stillringing in his ears:--

 Dei virgo Catharina, Lege constans in divina, Coli gemma preciosa, Margarita fulgida, Sponsa Christi gloriosa, Paradisi viola!{1}

 1 Virgin bride, supremely bright, Gem and flower of heavenly light, Pearl of the empyreal skies, Violet of Paradise!

CHAPTER VI

THE RUSTIC LOVER

 Despairing beside a clear stream A shepherd forsaken was laid. 

The next morning, after a comfortable breakfast, the doctor set out onhis walk home. His young friend accompanied him part of the way, and didnot part with him till he had obtained a promise of another and longervisit. 

The doctor, as usual, soliloquised as he walked. 'No doubt these areVestals. The purity of the establishment is past question. This younggentleman has every requisite which her dearest friends would desire ina husband for Miss Gryll. 

And she is in every way suited to him. But these seven damsels interposethemselves, like the sevenfold shield of Ajax. There is something veryattractive in these damsels:

 Faciès non omnibus una, Nec diversa tamen: qualem decet esse sororum. {1}

 1 Though various features did the sisters grace, A sister's likeness was in every face. Addison: Ovid. Met. 1. Ii. 

If I had such an establishment, I should be loath to break it up. It isoriginal, in these days of monotony. It is satisfactory, in these daysof uncongenial relations between master and servant It is effective, in the admirable arrangements of the household. It is graceful, in thepersonal beauty and tasteful apparel of the maidens. It is agreeable, intheir manners, in their accomplishments, in their musical skill. It islike an enchanted palace. Mr. Gryll, who talks so much of Circe, wouldfind himself at home; he might fancy himself waited on by her handmaids, the daughters of fountains, groves, and rivers. Miss Gryll might fancyherself in the dwelling of her namesake, Morgana. But I fear shewould be for dealing with it as Orlando did with Morgana, breaking thetalisman and dissolving the enchantment This would be a pity; but itwould also be a pity that these two young persons should not cometogether. But why should I trouble myself with matchmaking? It isalways a thankless office. If it turns out well, your good service isforgotten. If it turns out ill, you are abused by both parties. '

The doctor's soliloquy was cut short by a sound of lamentation, which, as he went on, came to him in louder and louder bursts. He was attractedto the spot whence the sounds proceeded, and had some difficulty indiscovering a doleful swain, who was ensconced in a mass of fern, tallerthan himself if he had been upright; and but that, by rolling over andover in the turbulence of his grief, he had flattened a large space downto the edge of the forest brook near which he reclined, he wouldhave remained invisible in his lair. The tears in his eyes, and thepassionate utterances of his voice, contrasted strangely with a roundrussetin face, which seemed fortified by beef and ale against allpossible furrows of care; but against love, even beef and ale, mightytalismans as they are, are feeble barriers. Cupid's arrows had piercedthrough the _os triplex_ of treble X, and the stricken deer lay mourningby the stream. 

[Illustration: A doleful swain. 071-41]

The doctor approaching kindly inquired, 'What is the matter?' but wasanswered only by a redoubled burst of sorrow, and an emphatic rejectionof all sympathy. 

'You can't do me any good. '

'You do not know that, ' said the doctor. 'No man knows what good anothercan do him till he communicates his trouble. '

For some time the doctor could obtain no other answer than therepetition of 'You can't do me any good. ' But at length the patience andkind face of the inquirer had their effect on the sad shepherd, and hebrought out with a desperate effort and a more clamorous explosion ofgrief--

'She won't have me!'

'Who won't have you?'

'Well, if you must know, ' said the swain, 'you must. It's one of theyoung ladies up at the Folly. '

'Young ladies?' said the doctor. 

'Servants they call themselves, ' said the other; 'but they are more likeladies, and hold their heads high enough, when one of them won't haveme. Father's is one of the best farms for miles round, and it's all hisown. He's a true old yeoman, father is. And there's nobody but him andme. And if I had a nice wife, that would be a good housekeeper for him, and play and sing to him of an evening--for she can do anything, shecan--read, write, and keep accounts, and play and sing--I've heardher--and make a plum-pudding--I've seen her--we should be as happy asthree crickets--four, perhaps, at the year's end: and she won't haveme!'

'You have put the question?' said the doctor. 

'Plump, ' said the other. 'And she looked at first as if she was goingto laugh. She didn't, though. Then she looked serious, and said she wassorry for me. She said she saw I was in earnest She knew I was a goodson, and deserved a good wife; but she couldn't have me. Miss, said I, do you like anybody better? No, she said very heartily. '

'That is one comfort, ' said the doctor. 

'What comfort, ' said the other, 'when she won't have me?'

'She may alter her mind, ' said the doctor, 'if she does not prefer anyone else. Besides, she only says she can't. '

'Can't, ' said the other, 'is civil for won't. That's all. '

'Does she say why she can't?' said the doctor. 

'Yes, ' said the other. 'She says she and her sisters won't part witheach other and their young master. '

'Now, ' said the doctor, 'you have not told me which of the seven sistersis the one in question. '

'It's the third, ' said the other. 'What they call the second cook. There's a housekeeper and two cooks, and two housemaids and two waitingmaids. But they only manage for the young master. There are others thatwait on them. 

'And what is her name?' said the doctor. 

'Dorothy, ' said the other; 'her name is Dorothy. Their names follow, like ABC, only that A comes last. Betsey, Catherine, Dorothy, Eleanor, Fanny, Grace, Anna. But they told me it was not the alphabet theywere christened from; it was the key of A minor, if you know what thatmeans. '

'I think I do, ' said the doctor, laughing. 'They were christened fromthe Greek diatonic scale, and make up two conjunct tetrachords, if youknow what that means. '

'I can't say I do, ' said the other, looking bewildered. 

'And so, ' said the doctor, 'the young gentleman, whose name is Algernon, is the Proslambanomenos, or key-note, and makes up the octave. Hisparents must have designed it as a foretelling that he and his sevenfoster-sisters were to live in harmony all their lives. But how did youbecome acquainted?'

'Why, ' said the other, 'I take a great many things to the house from ourfarm, and it's generally she that takes them in. '

'I know the house well, ' said the doctor, 'and the master, and themaids. Perhaps he may marry, and they may follow the example. Live inhope. Tell me your name. '

'Hedgerow, ' said the other; 'Harry Hedgerow. And if you know her, ain'tshe a beauty?'

'Why, yes, ' said the doctor; 'they are all good-looking. '

'And she won't have me, ' cried the other, but with a more subduedexpression. The doctor had consoled him, and given him a ray of hope. And they went on their several ways. 

The doctor resumed his soliloquy. 

'Here is the semblance of something towards a solution of thedifficulty. If one of the damsels should marry, it would break thecombination. One will not by herself. But what if seven apple-facedHedgerows should propose simultaneously, seven notes in the key of Aminor, an octave below? Stranger things have happened. I have read ofsix brothers who had the civility to break their necks in succession, that the seventh, who was the hero of the story, might inheritan estate. But, again and again, why should I trouble myself withmatchmaking? I had better leave things to take their own course. '

Still in his interior _speculum_ the doctor could not help seeing a dimreflection of himself pronouncing the nuptial benediction on his twoyoung friends. 

CHAPTER VII

THE VICAR AND HIS WIFE--FAMILIES OF LOVE--THE NEWSPAPER

 Indulge Genio: carpamus dulcia: nostrum est Quod vivis: cinis, et manes, et fabula fies. Vive memor lethi: fugit hora: hoc quod loquor, inde est. Persius. 

 Indulge thy Genius, while the hour's thine own: Even while we speak, some part of it has flown. Snatch the swift-passing good: 'twill end ere long In dust and shadow, and an old wife's song. 

'Agapetus and Agapêtê, ' said the Reverend Doctor Opimian, the nextmorning at breakfast, 'in the best sense of the words: that, I amsatisfied, is the relation between this young gentleman and hishandmaids. '

__Mrs. Opimian. __ Perhaps, doctor, you will have the goodness to makeyour view of this relation a little more intelligible to me. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Assuredly, my dear. The word signifies 'beloved'in its purest sense. And in this sense it was used by Saint Paul inreference to some of his female co-religionists and fellow-labourers inthe vineyard, in whose houses he occasionally dwelt. And in this senseit was applied to virgins and holy men, who dwelt under the same roof inspiritual love. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ Very likely, indeed. You are a holy man, doctor, butI think, if you were a bachelor, and I were a maid, I should not trustmyself to be your aga--aga--

[Illustration: Should not trust myself to be your aga--aga. 076-44]

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Agapêtê. But I never pretended to this sort ofspiritualism. I followed the advice of Saint Paul, who says it is betterto marry. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ You need not finish the quotation. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Agapêtê is often translated 'adoptive sister. 'A very possible relation, I think, where there are vows of celibacy, andinward spiritual grace. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ Very possible, indeed: and equally possible where thereare none. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ But more possible where there are seven adoptivesisters, than where there is only one. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ Perhaps. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ The manners, my dear, of these damsels towardstheir young master are infallible indications of the relations betweenthem. Their respectful deference to him is a symptom in which I cannotbe mistaken. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ I hope you are not. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am sure I am not. I would stake all my creditfor observation and experience on the purity of the seven Vestals. Iam not strictly accurate in calling them so: for in Rome the numberof Vestals was only six. But there were seven Pleiads, till onedisappeared. We may fancy she became a seventh Vestal. Or as the planetsused to be seven, and are now more than fifty, we may pass a seventhVestal in the name of modern progress. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ There used to be seven deadly sins. How many has modernprogress added to them?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ None, I hope, my dear. But this will be due, not to its own tendencies, but to the comprehensiveness of the olddefinitions. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ I think I have heard something like your Greek wordbefore. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Agapêmonê, my dear. You may have heard the wordAgapêmonê. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ That is it. And what may it signify?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It signifies Abode of Love: spiritual love ofcourse. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ Spiritual love, which rides in carriages and four, fares sumptuously, like Dives, and protects itself with a high wall fromprofane observation. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Well, my dear, and there may be no harm in allthat. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ Doctor, you are determined not to see harm in anything. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am afraid I see more harm in many things thanI like to see. But one reason for not seeing harm in this Agapêmonâmatter is, that I hear so little about it The world is ready enough topromulgate scandal; but that which is quietly right may rest in peace. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ Surely, doctor, you do not think this Agapemone right?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I only say I do not know whether it is rightor wrong. It is nothing new. Three centuries ago there was a Family ofLove, on which Middleton wrote a comedy. Queen Elizabeth persecuted thisfamily; Middleton made it ridiculous; but it outlived them both, andthere may have been no harm in it after all. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ Perhaps, doctor, the world is too good to see anynovelty except in something wrong. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Perhaps it is only wrong that arrests attention, because right is common, and wrong is rare. Of the many thousand personswho walk daily through a street you only hear of one who has been robbedor knocked down. If ever Hamlet's news--'that the world has grownhonest'--should prove true, there would be an end of our newspaper. For, let us see, what is the epitome of a newspaper? In the first place, specimens of all the deadly sins, and infinite varieties of violence andfraud; a great quantity of talk, called by courtesy legislative wisdom, of which the result is 'an incoherent and undigested mass of law, shotdown, as from a rubbish-cart, on the heads of the people ';{1} lawyersbarking at each other in that peculiar style of dylactic delivery whichis called forensic eloquence, and of which the first and mostdistinguished practitioner was Cerberus;{2} bear-garden meetings ofmismanaged companies, in which directors and shareholders abuse eachother in choice terms, not all to be found even in Rabelais; burstingsof bank bubbles, which, like a touch of harlequin's wand, strip offtheir masks and dominoes from 'highly respectable' gentlemen, and leavethem in their true figures of cheats and pickpockets; societies of allsorts, for teaching everybody everything, meddling with everybody'sbusiness, and mending everybody's morals; mountebank advertisementspromising the beauty of Helen in a bottle of cosmetic, and the age ofOld Parr in a box of pills; folly all alive in things called réunions;announcements that some exceedingly stupid fellow has been'entertaining' a select company; matters, however multiform, multifarious, and multitudinous, all brought into family likeness by thevarnish of false pretension with which they are all overlaid. 

 1 Jeremy Bentham. 

 2 Cerberus forensis erat causidicus. --Petronius Arbiter. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ I did not like to interrupt you, doctor; but it struckme, while you were speaking, that in reading the newspaper you do nothear the bark of the lawyers. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ True; but no one who has once heard the wow-wowcan fail to reproduce it in imagination. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ You have omitted accidents, which occupy a large spacein the newspaper. If the world grew ever so honest, there would still beaccidents. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ But honesty would materially diminish thenumber. High-pressure steam-boilers would not scatter death anddestruction around them, if the dishonesty of avarice did not tempttheir employment, where the more costly low pressure would ensureabsolute safety. Honestly built houses would not come suddenly down andcrush their occupants. Ships, faithfully built and efficiently manned, would not so readily strike on a lee shore, nor go instantly to pieceson the first touch of the ground. Honestly made sweetmeats would notpoison children; honestly compounded drugs would not poison patients. Inshort, the larger portion of what we call accidents are crimes. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ I have often heard you say, of railways andsteam-vessels, that the primary cause of their disasters is the insanepassion of the public for speed. That is not crime, but folly. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It is crime in those who ought to know betterthan to act in furtherance of the folly. But when the world has grownhonest, it will no doubt grow wise. When we have got rid of crime, wemay consider how to get rid of folly. So that question is adjourned tothe Greek kalends. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ There are always in a newspaper some things of acreditable character. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ When we are at war, naval and military heroismabundantly; but in time of peace these virtues sleep. They are laid uplike ships in ordinary. No doubt, of the recorded facts of civil lifesome are good, and more are indifferent, neither good nor bad; but goodand indifferent together are scarcely more than a twelfth part of thewhole. Still, the matters thus presented are all exceptional cases. Ahermit reading nothing but a newspaper might find little else thanfood for misanthropy; but living among friends, and in the bosom ofour family, we see the dark side of life in the occasional picture, the bright is its every-day aspect The occasional is the matter ofcuriosity, of incident, of adventure, of things that really happento few, and may possibly happen to any. The interest attendant on anyaction or event is in just proportion to its rarity; and, happily, quietvirtues are all around us, and obtrusive virtues seldom cross our path. On the whole, I agree in opinion with Theseus, {1} that there is moregood than evil in the world. 

 1 Eurip. Suppl. 207: Herm. 

_Mrs. Opimian. _ I think, doctor, you would not maintain any opinion ifyou had not an authority two thousand years old for it. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Well, my dear, I think most opinions worthmentioning have an authority of about that age. 

CHAPTER VIII

PANTOPRAGMATICS

 Cool the wine, Doris. Pour it in the cup, Simple, unmixed with water. Such dilution Serves only to wash out the spirit of man. 

The doctor, under the attraction of his new acquaintance, had allowedmore time than usual to elapse between his visits to Gryll Grange, and when he resumed them he was not long without communicatingthe metamorphosis of the old Tower, and the singularities of itsinhabitants. They dined well as usual, and drank their wine cool. 

_Miss Gryll. _ There are many things in what you have told us that excitemy curiosity; but first, what do you suppose is the young gentleman'sreligion?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ From the great liking he seems to have taken tome, I should think he was of the Church of England, if I did notrather explain it by our Greek sympathy. At the same time, he kept verycarefully in view that Saint Catharine is a saint of the English ChurchCalendar. I imagine there is less of true piety than of an abstractnotion of ideal beauty, even in his devotion to her. But it is so farsatisfactory that he wished to prove his religion, such as it is, to bewithin the pale of the Church of England. 

_Miss Gryll. _ I like the idea of his closing the day with a hymn, sungin concert by his seven Vestals. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am glad you think charitably of the damsels. It is not every lady that would. But I am satisfied they deserve it. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ I should like to know the young gentleman. I wish you couldmanage to bring him here. Should not you like to see him, Morgana?

_Miss Gryll. _ Yes, uncle. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Try what you can do, doctor. We shall have before long somepoetical and philosophical visitors. That may tempt him to join us. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It may; but I am not confident. He seems to meto be indisposed to general society, and to care for nothing but woods, rivers, and the sea; Greek poetry, Saint Catharine, and the sevenVestals. However, I will try what can be done. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ But, doctor, I think he would scarcely have provided sucha spacious dining-room, and so much domestic accommodation, if he hadintended to shut himself up from society altogether. I expect thatsome day when you go there you will find a large party. Try if he willco-operate in the Aristophanic comedy. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ A good idea. That may be something to his mind. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Talking of comedy, doctor, what has become of LordCurryfin, and his lecture on fish. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Why, Lord Michin Malicho, {1} LordFacing-both-ways, and two or three other arch-quacks, have takento merry-andrewising in a new arena, which they call the Science ofPantopragmatics, and they have bitten Lord Curryfin into tumbling withthem; but the mania will subside when the weather grows cool; and nodoubt we shall still have him at Thornback Bay, teaching the fishermenhow to know a herring from a halibut. 

 1 'Marry, this is _miching mallecho_: it means mischief. ' --Hamlet. 

_Miss Gryll. _ But pray, doctor, what is this new science?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Why that, Miss Gryll, I cannot well make out. I have asked several professors of the science, and have got nothing inreturn but some fine varieties of rigmarole, of which I can make neitherhead nor tail. It seems to be a real art of talking about an imaginaryart of teaching every man his own business. Nothing practical comes ofit, and, indeed, so much the better. It will be at least harmless, aslong as it is like Hamlet's reading, 'words. , words, words. ' Like mostother science, it resolves itself into lecturing, lecturing, lecturing, about all sorts of matters, relevant and irrelevant: one enormous boreprating about jurisprudence, another about statistics, another abouteducation, and so forth; the _crambe repetita_ of the same rubbish, which has already been served up 'twiës hot and twiës cold, '{1} at asmany other associations nicknamed scientific. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Then, doctor, I should think Lord Curryfin's lecture wouldbe a great relief to the unfortunate audience. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ No doubt more amusing and equally profitable. Not a fish more would be caught for it, and this will typify the resultof all such scientific talk. I had rather hear a practical cook lectureon bubble and squeak: no bad emblem of the whole affair. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ It has been said a man of genius can discourse on anything. Bubble and squeak seems a limited subject; but in the days of the FrenchRevolution there was an amusing poem with that title;{2} and there mightbe an amusing lecture; especially if it were like the poem, discursiveand emblematical. But men so dismally far gone in the affectation ofearnestness would scarcely relish it. 

 1 And many a Jacke of Dover hast thou sold, That hath been twiës hot and twiës cold. Chaucer: The Coke's Prologue. 

 2 'Babble and Squeak: a Gallimaufry of British Beef with the Chopped Cabbage of Gallic Philosophy. ' By Huddesford. 

CHAPTER IX

SAINT CATHARINE

 . .. Gli occhi su levai, E vidi lei che si facea corona, Riflettendo da se gli eterni ral Dante: Paradiso, xxxi. 70-72. 

 I lifted up my gaze, And looked on her who made herself a crown, Reflecting from herself the eternal rays. 

It was not long before the doctor again walked over to the Tower, topropose to his young friend to co-operate in the Aristophanic comedy. 

He found him well disposed to do so, and they passed a portion of theafternoon in arranging their programme. 

They dined, and passed the evening much as before. The next morning, asthey were ascending to the library to resume their pleasant labour, thedoctor said to himself, 'I have passed along galleries wherein were manychambers, and the doors in the day were more commonly open than shut, yet this chamber door of my young friend is always shut. There must be amystery in it. ' And the doctor, not generally given to morbid curiosity, found himself very curious about this very simple matter. 

At last he mustered up courage to say, 'I have seen your library, dining-room, and drawing-room; but you have so much taste in internalarrangements, I should like to see the rest of the house. '

_Mr. Falconer. _ There is not much more to see. You have occupied one ofthe best bedrooms. The rest do not materially differ. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ To say the truth, I should like to see your own. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I am quite willing. But I have thought, perhapserroneously, it is decorated in a manner you might not altogetherapprove. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Nothing indecorous, I hope. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Quite the contrary. You may, perhaps, think it too muchdevoted to my peculiar views of the purity of ideal beauty, as developedin Saint Catharine. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You have not much to apprehend on that score. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ You see, there is an altar, with an image of SaintCatharine, and the panels of the room are painted with subjects from herlife, mostly copied from Italian masters. The pictures of St. Catharineand her legend very early impressed her on my mind as the type of idealbeauty--of all that can charm, irradiate, refine, exalt, in the best ofthe better sex. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You are enthusiastic; but indeed, though she isretained as a saint in the Reformed Church, I am not very familiar withher history. And to me some of these pictures require explanation. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I will tell you her legend as briefly as I may. And wewill pass from picture to picture as the subjects arise. 

THE LEGEND OF SAINT CATHARINE

Catharine was a Princess of Alexandria in the third century. Sheembraced the Christian religion by divine inspiration. She waspre-eminent in beauty, learning, and discourse. She converted her fatherand mother, and all with whom she came into communication. The EmperorMaxentius brought together the fifty wisest men of the empire to converther from the error of her way, and she converted them all to the newfaith. Maxentius burned her proselytes, and threatened her with asimilar death. She remained firm. He had her publicly scourged, and casther into prison to perish by famine. Going on an expedition, he leftthe execution of his orders to the empress and his chief general, Porphyrius. Angels healed her wounds and supplied her with food; and ina beatific vision the Saviour of the world placed a ring on her finger, and called her His bride. {1} The presence of the ring showed to her thetruth of the visitation. The empress and Porphyrius visited the prison, and she converted them also. The emperor, returning, put the empressand Porphyrius to death; and after many ineffectual expostulations withCatharine, determined on putting her to death by the wheel which bearsher name. 

 1 Maria, Vergine delle Vergini, e Misericordia delle Misericordie, vestita de i lampi del Sole, e coronata de i raggi delle Stelle, prese il sottile, il delicato, ed il sacro dito di Catarina, humile di core e mansueta di vita, ed il largo, il clémente, ed il pictoso figliuol suo 'o cinse con lo anello. --Vita di Santa Catarina, 1. Ii. Vinegia, 1541. 

Four of these wheels, armed with iron teeth, and revolving towardseach other, were to cut her to pieces. Angels broke the wheels. He thenbrought her to the stake, and the angels extinguished the flames. Hethen ordered her to be beheaded by the sword. This was permitted, and inthe meantime the day had closed. The body, reserved for exposure to wildbeasts, was left under guard at the place of execution. Intense darknessfell on the night, and in the morning the body had disappeared. Theangels had borne it to the summit of the loftiest mountain of the Horebrange, where still a rock, bearing the form of a natural sarcophagus, meets the eye of the traveller. Here it was watched by angel-guards, and preserved in unchanging beauty, till, in the fulness of time, itwas revealed to a holy man, who removed it to the shrine, under which itlies to this day, with the ring still on its hand, in the convent whichwas then founded, and which bears her name--the convent Saint Catharineof Mount Sinai. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Most of this is new to me. Yet I am notunfamiliar with pictures of the marriage of Saint Catharine, which was afavourite subject with the great Italian masters. But here is a picturewhich the legend, as you have related it, does not illustrate. What isthis tomb, with flames bursting from it, and monks and others recoilingin dismay?

_Mr. Falconer. _ It represents a remarkable incident at the tomb of thesaint. The Empress Catharine II. Was a great benefactress to the Conventof Mount Sinai, and desired to possess Saint Catharine's ring. She senta mitred abbot as an envoy to request it from the brotherhood. 

The monks, unwilling to displease the empress, replied that they did notdare to remove it themselves, but that they would open the tomb, andthe envoy might take it. They opened the tomb accordingly, and theenvoy looked on the hand and the ring. He approached to draw it off;but flames burst forth: he recoiled, and the tomb closed. Under such amanifestation of the saint's displeasure, the fathers could not againattempt to open it. {1}

 1 Illustrations of Jerusalem and Mount Sinai (1837), p. 27. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I should like to have seen the empressreceiving the envoy's report. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Her reception of it would depend on the degree of faithwhich she either actually felt, or might have thought it politic toassume. At any rate, the fathers had shown their devotion, and affordedher a good opportunity for exhibiting hers. She did not again seek toobtain the ring. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Now, what are these three pictures in oneframe, of chapels on hills?

_Mr. Falconer. _ These chapels are here represented as they may besupposed to have been in the Catholic days of England. Three sisters, named Catharine, Martha, and Anne, built them to their namesake saints, on the summits of three hills, which took from these dedications thenames they still bear. From the summit of each of these chapels theother two were visible. The sisters thought the chapels would longremain memorials of Catholic piety and sisterly love. The Reformationlaid them in ruins. Nothing remains of the chapel of St. Anne but a fewgray stones, built into an earthen wall, which, some half-century ago, enclosed a plantation. The hill is now better known by the memory ofCharles Fox than by that of its ancient saint. The chapel of SaintMartha has been restored and applied to Protestant worship. The chapelof Saint Catharine remains a picturesque ruin, on the banks of the Wey, near Guildford. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And that old church?

_Mr. Falconer. _ That was the church of Saint Catharine, which was pulleddown to make way for the dock by which her name is now profaned; an actof desecration which has been followed by others, and will be followedby many more, whenever it may suit the interests of commerce to commitsacrilege on consecrated ground, and dissipate the ashes of the dead;an act which, even when that of a barbarian invader, Horace thoughtit would be profanation even to look on. {1} Whatever may be in otherrespects the superiority of modern piety, we are far inferior to theancients in reverence for temples and tombs. 

 1 The saint whom I have chosen frequently to my mind the most perfect ideality of physical, moral, and intellectual beauty. '

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am afraid I cannot gainsay that observation. But what is that stained glass window?

_Mr. Falconer. _ It is copied on a smaller scale, and with more ofItalian artistic beauty in the principal figure, from the window in WestWickham church. She is trampling on the Emperor Maxentius. You see allher emblems: the palm, which belongs to all sainted martyrs; the crown, the wheel, the fire, the sword, which belong especially to her; andthe book, with which she is always represented, as herself a miracleof learning, and its chosen universal patroness in the schools of theMiddle Ages. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian_. Unquestionably the legend is interesting. Atpresent, your faith is simply poetical. But take care, my young friend, that you do not finish by becoming the dupe of your own mystification. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I have no fear of that I think I can clearly distinguishdevotion to ideal beauty from superstitious belief. I feel the necessityof some such devotion to fill up the void which the world, as it is, leaves in my mind. I wish to believe in the presence of some localspiritual influence; genius or nymph; linking us by a medium ofsomething like human feeling, but more pure and more exalted, to theall-pervading, creative, and preservative spirit of the universe; but1 cannot realise it from things as they are. Everything is too deeplytinged with sordid vulgarity. There can be no intellectual powerresident in a wood, where the only inscription is not '_Genio loci_, 'but 'Trespassers will be prosecuted'; no Naiad in a stream that turns acotton-mill; no Oread in a mountain dell, where a railway train depositsa cargo of vandals; no Nereids or Oceanitides along the seashore, wherea coastguard is watching for smugglers. No; the intellectual life ofthe material world is dead. Imagination cannot replace it. But theintercession of saints still forms a link between the visible andinvisible. In their symbols I can imagine their presence. Each inthe recess of our own thought we may preserve their symbols from theintrusion of the world. And the saint whom I have chosen presents tomy mind the most perfect ideality of physical, moral, and intellectualbeauty. 

 1 Epod. 16, 13. 

[Illustration: Perfect ideality of beauty. 091-61]

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian_. I cannot object to your taste. But I hopeyou will not be led into investing the ideality with too much ofthe semblance of reality. I should be sorry to find you far gone inhagiolatry. I hope you will acquiesce in Martin, keeping equally clearof Peter and Jack. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Nothing will more effectually induce me so to acquiescethan your company, dear doctor. A tolerant liberality like yours has avery persuasive influence. 

From this digression the two friends proceeded to the arrangement oftheir Aristophanic comedy, and divided their respective shares after themanner of Beaumont and Fletcher. 

CHAPTER X

THE THUNDERSTORM

 Si bene calculum ponas, ubique naufragium est. --Petronius Arbiter. 

 If you consider well the events of life, shipwreck is everywhere. 

After luncheon the doctor thought of returning home, when a rumblingof distant thunder made him pause. They reascended the Tower, toreconnoitre the elements from the library. The windows were so arrangedas to afford a panoramic view. 

The thunder muttered far off, but there was neither rain nor visiblelightning. 

'The storm is at a great distance, ' said the doctor, 'and it seems to bepassing away on the verge of the sky. '

But on the opposite horizon appeared a mass of dark-blue cloud, whichrose rapidly, and advanced in the direct line of the Tower. Before itrolled a lighter but still lurid volume of vapour, which curled andwreathed like eddying smoke before the denser blackness of the unbrokencloud. 

Simultaneously followed the flashing of lightning, the rolling ofthunder, and a deluge of rain like the bursting of a waterspout. 

They sate some time in silence, watching the storm as it swept along, with wind, and driving rain, and whirling hail, bringing for a timealmost the darkness of night, through which the forked lightning poureda scarcely interrupted blaze. 

Suddenly came a long dazzling flash, that seemed to irradiate the entirecircumference of the sky, followed instantaneously by one of thosecrashing peals of thunder which always indicate that something very nearhas been struck by the lightning. 

The doctor turned round to make a remark on the awful grandeur of theeffect, when he observed that his young friend had disappeared. On hisreturn, he said he had been looking for what had been struck. 

'And what was?' said the doctor. 

'Nothing in the house, ' said his host. 

'The Vestals, ' thought the doctor; 'these were all his solicitude. '

But though Mr. Falconer had looked no farther than to the safety of theseven sisters, his attention was soon drawn to a tumult below, whichseemed to indicate that some serious mischief had resulted fromthe lightning; and the youngest of the sisters, appearing in greattrepidation, informed him that one of two horses in a gentleman'scarriage had been struck dead, and that a young lady in the carriage hadbeen stunned by the passing flash, though how far she was injured by itcould not be immediately known. The other horse, it appeared, had beenprancing in terror, and had nearly overthrown the carriage; but hehad been restrained by the vigorous arm of a young farmer, who hadsubsequently carried the young lady into the house, where she was nowresting on a couch in the female apartments, and carefully attended bythe sisters. 

[Illustration: The other horse prancing in terror. 095-65]

Mr. Falconer and the doctor descended into the hall, and were assuredthat the young lady was doing well, but that she would be much betterfor being left some time longer undisturbed. An elderly gentlemanissued from the female apartments, and the doctor with some amazementrecognised his friend Mr. Gryll, to whom and his niece this disaster hadoccurred. 

The beauty of the morning had tempted them to a long drive; and theythought it would be a good opportunity to gratify at least a portionof the curiosity which the doctor's description of the Folly and itsinhabitants had excited in them. They had therefore determined on takinga circuit, in which they would pass under the walls of the Tower. Theywere almost at the extremity of their longest radius, when the stormburst over them, and were just under the Tower when the lightningstruck one of their horses. Harry Hedgerow was on his way with some farmproduce when the accident occurred, and was the young farmer who hadsubdued the surviving horse, and carried the young lady into the house. Mr. Gryll was very panegyrical of this young man's behaviour, and thedoctor, when he recognised him, shook him heartily by the hand, andtold him he felt sure that he was a lad who would make his way: a remarkwhich Harry received as a good omen: for Dorothy heard it, and looked athim with a concurrent, though silent, approbation. 

The drawing-room and the chambers for visitors were between the Towerand the _gynoceum_, or female apartments, which were as completelyseparated from the rest of the house as they could have been in Athens. 

After some anxious inquiries, it was reported that the young lady wassleeping, and that one or other of the sisters would keep constant watchby her. It was therefore arranged that Mr. Gryll should dine and passthe night where he was. Before dinner he had the satisfaction of hearingfrom medical authority that all would be well after a little time. 

Harry Hedgerow had bethought him of a retired physician, who lived witha maiden sister in a cottage at no great distance from the Tower, and who often gave gratuitous advice to his poorer neighbours. If heprescribed anything beyond their means, himself or his sister was alwaysready to supply it. Though their own means were limited, they were thegood angels of a small circumference. 

The old physician confirmed the opinion already given by the sisters, that the young lady for the present only required repose; but heaccepted the invitation to remain till the morning, in the event of hisadvice being needed. 

So Miss Gryll remained with the elder sisters. Mr. Gryll and the twodoctors, spiritual and temporal, sat down to dinner with Mr. Falconer, and were waited on, as usual, by the younger handmaids. 

CHAPTER XI

ELECTRICAL SCIENCE--THE DEATH OF PHILEMON

 Where wine is not, no mirth the banquet knows: Where wine is not, the dance all joyless goes. The man, oppressed with cares, who tastes the bowl, Shall shake the weight of sorrow from his soul. 

 Bacchus, on the birth of the vine, predicting its benefits: in the twelfth book of the Dionysiaca of Nonnus. 

The conversation at dinner turned on the occurrences of the morning andthe phenomena of electricity. The physician, who had been a traveller, related many anecdotes from his own observation: especially such astended to show by similarity that the injury to Miss Gryll would not beof long duration. He had known, in similar cases, instances of apparenttotal paralysis; but he had always found it temporary. Perhaps in a dayor two, but at most in a very few days, it would certainly pass away. Inthe meantime, he recommended absolute repose. Mr. Falconer entreatedMr. Gryll to consider the house as his own. Matters were arrangedaccordingly; and it was determined that the next morning a messengershould be despatched to Gryll Grange for a supply of apparel. The Rev. Dr. Opimian, who was as fond as the Squire himself of the young lady, had been grievously discomposed by the accident of the morning, and feltthat he should not thoroughly recover his serenity till he could againsee her in her proper character, the light and life of her society. Hequoted Homer, Æschylus, Aristotle, Plutarch, Athenaeus, Horace, Persius, and Pliny, to show that all which is practically worth knowing on thesubject of electricity had been known to the ancients. The electrictelegraph he held to be a nuisance, as disarranging chronology, andgiving only the heads of a chapter, of which the details lost theirinterest before they arrived, the heads of another chapter havingintervened to destroy it. Then, what an amount of misery it inflicted, when, merely saying that there had been a great battle, and thatthousands had been wounded or killed, it maintained an agony of suspensein all who had friends on the field, till the ordinary channels ofintelligence brought the names of the suflferers. No Sicilian tyrant hadinvented such an engine of cruelty. This declamation against a supposedtriumph of modern science, which was listened to with some surpriseby the physician, and with great respect by his other auditors, having somewhat soothed his troubled spirit, in conjunction with thephysician's assurance, he propitiated his Genius by copious libationsof claret, pronouncing high panegyrics on the specimen before him, andinterspersing quotations in praise of wine as the one great panacea forthe cares of this world. 

A week passed away, and the convalescent had made good progress. Mr. Falconer had not yet seen his fair guest. Six of the sisters, oneremaining with Miss Gryll, performed every evening, at the earnestrequest of Mr. Gryll, a great variety of music, but always ending withthe hymn to their master's saint. The old physician came once or twice, and stayed the night. The Reverend Doctor Opimian went home for hisSunday duties, but took too much interest in the fair Morgana not toreturn as soon as he could to the Tower. Arriving one morning in thefirst division of the day, and ascending to the library, he foundhis young friend writing. He asked him if he were working on theAristophanic comedy. Mr. Falconer said he got on best with that in thedoctor's company. 'But I have been writing, ' he said, 'on somethingconnected with the Athenian drama. I have been writing a ballad on thedeath of Philemon, as told by Suidas and Apuleius. ' The doctor expresseda wish to hear it, and Mr. Falconer read it to him. 

THE DEATH OF PHILEMON{1}

 1 Suidas: sub voce (Greek), Apuleius: Florid, 16. 

 Closed was Philemon's hundredth year: The theatre was thronged to hear His last completed play: In the mid scene, a sudden rain Dispersed the crowd--to meet again On the succeeding day. 

 He sought his home, and slept, and dreamed. Nine maidens through his door, it seemed, Passed to the public street. He asked them, 'Why they left his home?' They said, 'A guest will hither come We must not stay to meet. '

 He called his boy with morning light, Told him the vision of the night, And bade his play be brought. His finished page again he scanned, Resting his head upon his hand, Absorbed in studious thought He knew not what the dream foreshowed: That nought divine may hold abode Where death's dark shade is felt: And therefore were the Muses nine Leaving the old poetic shrine, Where they so long had dwelt. 

 II

 The theatre was thronged once more, More thickly than the day before, To hear the half-heard song. The day wore on. Impatience came. They called upon Philemon's name, With murmurs loud and long. 

 Some sought at length his studious cell, And to the stage returned, to tell What thousands strove to ask. 'The poet we have been to seek Sate with his hand upon his cheek, As pondering o'er his task. 

 'We spoke. He made us no reply. We reverentially drew nigh, And twice our errand told. He answered not We drew more near The awful mystery then was clear: We found him stiff and cold. 

 'Struck by so fair a death, we stood Awhile in sad admiring mood: Then hastened back, to say That he, the praised and loved of all, Is deaf for ever to your call: That on this self-same day, 'When here presented should have been The close of his fictitious scene, His life's true scene was o'er: We seemed, in solemn silence awed, To hear the "Farewell and applaud, " Which he may speak no more. 

 'Of tears the rain gave prophecy: The nuptial dance of comedy Yields to the funeral train. Assemble where his pyre must burn: Honour his ashes in their urn: And on another day return To hear his songs again. '

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ A beautiful fiction. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ If it be a fiction. The supernatural is confined tothe dream. All the rest is probable; and I am willing to think it true, dream and all. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You are determined to connect the immaterialwith the material world, as far as you can. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I like the immaterial world. I like to live amongthoughts and images of the past and the possible, and even of theimpossible, now and then. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Certainly, there is much in the material worldto displease sensitive and imaginative minds; but I do not know any onewho has less cause to complain of it than you have. You are surroundedwith all possible comforts, and with all the elements of beauty, and ofintellectual enjoyment. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ It is not my own world that I complain of. 

It is the world on which I look 'from the loopholes of retreat. ' Icannot sit here, like one of the Gods of Epicurus, who, as Cicero says, was satisfied with thinking, through all eternity, 'how comfortable hewas. '{1} I look with feelings of intense pain on the mass of poverty andcrime; of unhealthy, unavailing, unremunerated toil, blighting childhoodin its blossom, and womanhood in its prime; of 'all the oppressions thatare done under the sun. '

 1 Comprehende igitur animo, et propone ante oculos, deura nihil aliud in omni aeternitate, nisi, Mihi pulchre est, et, Ego beatus sum, cogitant em. --Cicero: _De natura deorum_, 1. I. C. 41. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I feel with you on all these points; butthere is much good in the world; more good than evil, I have alwaysmaintained. 

They would have gone off in a discussion on this point, but the Frenchcook warned them to luncheon. 

In the evening the young lady was sufficiently recovered to join thelittle party in the drawing-room, which consisted, as before, of Mr. Falconer, Mr. Gryll, Doctor Anodyne, and the Reverend Doctor Opimian. Miss Gryll was introduced to _Mr. Falconer. _ She was full of gratefulencomium for the kind attention of the sisters, and expressed an earnestdesire to hear their music. The wish was readily complied with. Sheheard them with great pleasure, and, though not yet equal to muchexertion, she could not yet refrain from joining in with them in theirhymn to Saint Catharine. 

She accompanied them when they retired. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I presume those Latin words are genuine oldmonastic verses: they have all the air of it. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ They are so, and they are adapted to old music. 

Dr. Anodyne. There is something in this hymn very solemn and impressive. In an age like ours, in which music and pictures are the predominanttastes, I do not wonder that the forms of the old Catholic worship arereceived with increasing favour. There is a sort of adhesion to the oldreligion, which results less from faith than from a certain feeling ofpoetry; it finds its disciples; but it is of modern growth; and has veryessential differences from what it outwardly resembles. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It is, as I have frequently had occasion toremark, and as my young friend here will readily admit, one of themany forms of the love of ideal beauty, which, without being in itselfreligion, exerts on vivid imaginations an influence that is very oftenlike it. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ An orthodox English Churchman was the poet who sang tothe Virgin:

 'Thy image fells to earth. Yet some, I ween, Not unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend, As to a visible Power, in which did blend All that was mixed and reconciled in thee, Of mother's love with maiden purity, Of high with low, celestial with terrene. '{1}

 1 Wordsworth: Ecclesiastical Sonnets, i 21. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _--Well, my young friend, the love of ideal beautyhas exercised none but a benignant influence on you, whatever degree oforthodoxy there may be in your view of it. 

The little party separated for the night. 

CHAPTER XII

THE FOREST DELL--THE POWER OF LOVE--THE LOTTERY OF MARRIAGE

 (Greek passage) Philetaerus: Cynagis. 

 I pray you, what can mortal man do better Than live his daily life as pleasantly As daily means avail him? Life's frail tenure Warns not to trust to-morrow. 

The next day Mr. Falconer was perfectly certain that Miss Gryll wasnot yet well enough to be removed. No one was anxious to refute theproposition; they were all so well satisfied with, »the place and thecompany they were in, that they felt, the young lady included, a decidedunwillingness to go. That day Miss Gryll came to dinner, and the nextday she came to breakfast, and in the evening she joined in the music, and, in short, she was once more altogether herself; but Mr. Falconercontinued to insist that the journey home would be too much for her. When this excuse failed, he still entreated his new friends to remain;and so passed several days. At length Mr. Gryll found he must resolveon departing, especially as the time had arrived when he expected somevisitors. He urgently invited Mr. Falconer to visit him in return. Theinvitation was cordially accepted, and in the meantime considerableprogress had been made in the Aristophanic comedy. Mr. Falconer, afterthe departure of his visitors, went up into his library. He took downoner book after another, but they did not fix his attention as they usedto do; he turned over the leaves of Homer, and read some passages aboutCirce; then took down Bojardo, and read of Morgana and Falerina andDragontina; then took down Tasso and read of Armida. He would not lookat Ariosto's Alcina, because her change into an old woman destroyedall the charm of the previous picture. He dwelt on the enchantress whoremained in unaltered beauty. But even this he did only by fits andstarts, and found himself continually wandering away towards a moreenchanting reality. 

He descended to his bedroom, and meditated on ideal beauty in theportraits of Saint Catharine. But he could not help thinking that theideal might be real, at least in one instance, and he wandered down intohis drawing-room. There he sat absorbed in thought, till his two younghandmaids appeared with his luncheon. He smiled when he saw them, andsat down to the table as if nothing had disturbed him. Then, taking hisstick and his dog, he walked out into the forest. 

There was within moderate distance a deep dell, in the bottom of whichran a rivulet, very small in dry weather, but in heavy rains becominga torrent, which had worn itself a high-banked channel, winding infantastic curves from side to side of its narrow boundaries. Above thischannel old forest trees rose to a great height on both sides of thedell The slope every here and there was broken by promontories whichduring centuries the fall of the softer portions of the soil had formed;and on these promontories were natural platforms, covered, as they weremore or less accessible to the sun, with grass and moss and fern andfoxglove, and every variety of forest vegetation. These platforms werefavourite resorts of deer, which imparted to the wild scene its ownpeculiar life. 

This was a scene in which, but for the deeper and deeper wear of thefloods and the bolder falls of the promontories, time had made littlechange. The eyes of the twelfth century had seen it much as it appearedto those of the nineteenth. The ghosts of departed ages might seemto pass through it in succession, with all their changes of faith andpurpose and manners and costume. To a man who loved to dwell in thepast, there could not be a more congenial scene. One old oak stood inthe centre of one of the green platforms, and a portion of its gnarledroots presented a convenient seat. Mr. Falconer had frequently passed aday here when alone. The deer had become too accustomed to him to fly athis approach, and the dog had been too well disciplined to molest them. There he had sat for hours at a time, reading his favourite poets. 

[Illustration: Reading his favourite poets. 107-77]

There was no great poet with some of whose scenes this scenery did notharmonise. The deep woods that surrounded the dwelling of Circe, theobscure sylvan valley in which Dante met Virgil, the forest depthsthrough which Angelica fled, the enchanted wood in which Rinaldo met thesemblance of Armida, the forest-brook by which Jaques moralised over thewounded deer, were all reproduced in this single spot, and fancy peopledit at pleasure with nymphs and genii, fauns and satyrs, knights andladies, friars, foresters, hunters, and huntress maids, till the wholediurnal world seemed to pass away like a vision. There, for him, Matildahad gathered flowers on the opposite bank;{1} Laura had risen from oneof the little pools--resting-places of the stream--to seat herselfin the shade;{2} Rosalind and Maid Marian had peeped forth from theiralleys green; all different in form, in feature, and in apparel; but nowthey were all one; each, as she rose in imagination, presented herselfunder the aspect of the newly-known Morgana. 

 1 Dante: Purgatorio, c. 28. 

 2 Or in forma di Ninfa o d' altra Diva, Che del più chiaro fondo di Sorga esca, E pongasi a seder in sulla riva. PETRARCA: Sonetto 240. 

Finding his old imaginations thus disturbed, he arose and walked home. He dined alone, drank a bottle of Madeira, as if it had been so muchwater, summoned the seven sisters to the drawing-room earlierand detained them later than usual, till their music and its oldassociations had restored him to something like tranquillity. He hadalways placed the _summum bonum_ of life in tranquillity, and not inexcitement. He felt that his path was now crossed by a disturbing force, and determined to use his utmost exertions to avoid exposing himselfagain to its influence. 

In this mood the Reverend Doctor Opimian found him one morning in thelibrary reading. He sprang up to meet the Divine, exclaiming, 'Ah, deardoctor, I am very glad to see you. Have you any special favourite amongthe Odes of Pindar?'

The doctor thought this an odd question for the first salutation. Hehad expected that the first inquiry would have been for the fairconvalescent. He divined that the evasion of this subject was the resultof an inward struggle. He thought it would be best to fall in with themood of the questioner, and said, 'Charles Fox's favourite is said tohave been the second Olympic; I am not sure that there is, or can be, anything better. What say you?'

_Mr. Falconer. _ It may be that something in it touches a peculiar toneof feeling; but to me there is nothing like the ninth Pythian. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I can understand your fancy for that ode. Yousee an image of ideal beauty in the nymph Cyrene. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ 'Hidden are the keys of wise persuasion of sacredendearments, '{1} seems a strange phrase in English; but in Greek thewords invest a charming sentiment with singular grace. Fit words towords as closely as we may, the difference of the mind which utters themfails to reproduce the true semblance of the thought. The differenceof the effect produced, as in this instance, by exactly correspondingwords, can only be traced to the essential difference of the Greek andthe English mind. 

 1 (Greek passage)--Pindar?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And indeed, as with the words, so with theimage. We are charmed by Cyrene wrestling with the lion; but we shouldscarcely choose an English girl so doing as the type of ideal beauty. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ We must draw the image of Cyrene, not from an Englishgirl but from a Greek statue. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Unless a man is in love, and then to himall images of beauty take something of the form and features of hismistress. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ That is to say, a man in love sees everything through afalse medium. It must be a dreadful calamity to be in love. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Surely not when all goes well with it. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ To me it would be the worst of all mischances. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Every man must be subject to Love once in hislife. It is useless to contend with him. 'Love, ' says Sophocles, 'is unconquered in battle, and keeps his watch in the soft cheeks ofbeauty. '{1}

_Mr. Falconer. _ I am afraid, doctor, the Morgana to whom you haveintroduced me is a veritable enchantress. You find me here, determinedto avoid the spell. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Pardon me. You were introduced, as Jupiter wasto Semele, by thunder and lightning, which was, happily, not quite asfatal. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I must guard against its being as fatal in a differentsense; otherwise I may be myself the _triste bidental_. {2} I have aimedat living, like an ancient Epicurean, a life of tranquillity. Ihad thought myself armed with triple brass against the folds of athree-formed Chimaera. What with classical studies, and rural walks, and a domestic society peculiarly my own, I led what I consideredthe perfection of life: 'days so like each other they could not beremembered. ' {3}

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It is vain to make schemes of life. The worldwill have its slaves, and so will Love. 

Say, if you can, in what you cannot change. For such the mind of man, asis the day The Sire of Gods and men brings over him. {4}

 1 (Greek passage)--Antigone. 

 2 Bidental is usually a place struck by lightning: thence enclosed, and the soil forbidden to be moved. Persius uses it for a person so killed. 

 3 Wordsworth: The Brothers. 

 4 Quid placet aut odio est, quod non mutabile credas?

 (Greek phrase) These two quotations form the motto of Knight's Principles of Taste. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I presume, doctor, from the complacency with which youspeak of Love, you have had no cause to complain of him. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Quite the contrary. I have been an exception tothe rule that 'The course of true love never did run smooth. ' Nothingcould run more smooth than mine. I was in love. I proposed. I wasaccepted. No crossings before. No bickerings after. I drew a prize inthe lottery of marriage. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ It strikes me, doctor, that the lady may say as much. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I have made it my study to give her cause to sayso. And I have found my reward. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Still, yours is an exceptional case. For, as far asmy reading and limited observation have shown me, there are few happymarriages. It has been said by an old comic poet that 'a man who bringsa wife into his house, brings into it with her either a good or an evilgenius. '{1} And I may add from Juvenal: 'The Gods only know which itwill be. '{2}

 1 (Greek passage)

 Theodectes: apud Stobaeum. 2 Conjugium petimus partumque uxoris, at illis Notum, qui pueri, qualisque futura sit uxor. JUV. Sat. X. 352-3. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Well, the time advances for the rehearsals ofour Aristophanic comedy, and, independently of your promise to visit theGrange, and their earnest desire to see you, you ought to be there toassist in the preliminary arrangements. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Before you came, I had determined not to go; for, totell you the truth, I am afraid of falling in love. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It is not such a fearful matter. Many havebeen the better for it. Many have been cured of it. It is one of thosedisorders which every one must have once. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ The later the better. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian_. No; the later the worse, if it falls into aseason when it cannot be reciprocated. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ That is just the season for it. If I were sure thatit would not be reciprocated, I think I should be content to have gonethrough it. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Do you think it would be reciprocated?

_Mr. Falconer. _ Oh no. I only think it possible that it might be. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Well, there is a gentleman doing his best tobring about your wish. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Indeed! Who?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian_. A visitor at the Grange, who seems in greatfavour with both uncle and niece--Lord Curryfin. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Lord Curryfin! I never heard you speak of him, but as aperson to be laughed at. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ That was my impression of him before I knew him. Barring his absurdities, in the way of lecturing on fish, and of shiningin absurd company in the science of pantopragmatics, he has very much torecommend him: and I discover in him one quality which is invaluable. Hedoes all he can to make himself agreeable to all about him, and hehas great tact in seeing how to do it. In any intimate relation oflife--with a reasonable wife, for instance--he would be the pink of agood husband. 

The doctor was playing, not altogether unconsciously, the part of aninnocent Iago. He only said what was true, and he said it with a goodpurpose; for, with all his repeated resolutions against match-making, hecould not dismiss from his mind the wish to see his young friends cometogether; and he would not have liked to see Lord Curryfin carry off theprize through Mr. Falconer's neglect of his opportunity. Jealousy beingthe test of love, he thought a spice of it might be not unseasonablythrown in. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Notwithstanding your example, doctor, love is tobe avoided, because marriage is at best a dangerous experiment. Theexperience of all time demonstrates that it is seldom a happy condition. Jupiter and Juno to begin with; Venus and Vulcan. Fictions, to be sure, but they show Homer's view of the conjugal state. Agamemnon in theshades, though he congratulates Ulysses on his good fortune in having anexcellent wife, advises him not to trust even her too far. Come downto realities, even to the masters of the wise: Socrates with Xantippe;Euripides with his two wives, who made him a woman-hater; Cicero, whowas divorced; Marcus Aurelius. --Travel downwards: Dante, who, when heleft Florence, left his wife behind him; Milton, whose first wife ranaway from him; Shakespeare, who scarcely shines in the light of a happyhusband. And if such be the lot of the lights of the world, what canhumbler men expect?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You have given two or three heads of a cataloguewhich, I admit, might be largely extended. You can never read a history, you can never open a newspaper, without seeing some example of unhappymarriage. But the conspicuous are not the frequent. In the quiet pathof every-day life--the _secretum iter et fallentis semita vita_--I couldshow you many couples who are really comforts and helpmates to eachother. Then, above all things, children. The great blessing of old age, the one that never fails, if all else fail, is a daughter. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ All daughters are not good. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Most are. Of all relations in life, it is theleast disappointing: where parents do not so treat their daughters as toalienate their affections, which unhappily many do. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ You do not say so much for sons. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Young men are ambitious, self-willed, self-indulgent, easily corrupted by bad example, of which there isalways too much. I cannot say much for those of the present day, thoughit is not absolutely destitute of good specimens. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ You know what Paterculus says of those of his own day. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ 'The faith of wives towards the proscribed wasgreat; of freed-men, middling; of slaves, some; of sons, none. '{1} So hesays; but there were some: for example, of the sons of Marcus Oppius andQuintus Cicero. {2} You may observe, by the way, he gives the first placeto the wives. 

 1 Id tamen nolandum est, fuisse in proscriptos uxorum fidem summam, libcriorum niediam, servorum ahquam, filiorum nullam. --Paterculus, 1. Ii. C. 67. 

 2 A compendious and comprehensive account of these and other instances of filial piety, in the proscription of the second triumvirate, will be found in Freinihemius; Suppununta Liviania, cxx. 77-80. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Well, that is a lottery in which every man must take hischance. But my scheme of life was perfect. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Perhaps there is something to be said againstcondemning seven young women to celibacy. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ But if such were their choice--

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ No doubt there are many reasons why they shouldprefer the condition they are placed in to the ordinary chances ofmarriage: but, after all, to be married is the natural aspiration of ayoung woman, and if favourable conditions presented themselves--

_Mr. Falconer. _ Conditions suitable to their education are scarcelycompatible with their social position. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ They have been educated to be both useful andornamental. The ornamental need not, and in their case certainly doesnot, damage the useful, which in itself would procure them suitablematches. 

Mr. Falconer shook his head, and, after a brief pause, poured out avolume of quotations, demonstrating the general unhappiness of marriage. The doctor responded by as many, demonstrating the contrary. He pausedto take breath. Both laughed heartily. But the result of the discussionand the laughter was, that Mr. Falconer was curious to see LordCurryfin, and would therefore go to Gryll Grange. 

CHAPTER XIII

LORD CURRYFIN--SIBERIAN DINNERS--SOCIAL MONOTONY

 Ille potens sui laetusque deget, cui licet in diem dixisse, Vixi: eras vel atra nube polum pater occupato, vel sole puro: non tamen irritum quodcumque retro est, efficiet; neque diffinget infectumque reddet, quod fugiens semel hora vexit. --Hor. Carm. Iii. 29. 

 Happy the man, and happy he alone, He who can call to-day his own: He who, secure within, can say, To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day. Be storm, or calm, or rain, or shine, The joys I have possessed in spite of fate are mine. Not heaven itself upon the past has power, But what has been has been, and I have had my hour. --Dryden. 

A large party was assembled at the Grange. Among them were some of theyoung ladies who were to form the chorus; one elderly spinster, MissIlex, who passed more than half her life in visits, and was everywherewelcome, being always good-humoured, agreeable in conversation, havingmuch knowledge of society, good sense in matters of conduct, good tasteand knowledge in music; sound judgment in dress, which alone sufficedto make her valuable to young ladies; a fair amount of reading, oldand new; and on most subjects an opinion of her own, for which she hadalways something to say; Mr. MacBorrowdale, an old friend of Mr. Gryll, a gentleman who comprised in himself all that Scotland had ever beensupposed to possess of mental, moral, and political philosophy; 'Andyet he bore it not about'; not 'as being loth to wear it out, '{1} butbecause he held that there was a time for all things, and that dinnerwas the time for joviality, and not for argument; Mr. Minim, the amateurcomposer of the music for the comedy; Mr. Pallet, the amateur painterof the scenery; and last, not least, the newly-made acquaintance, LordCurryfin. 

 1 We grant, although he had much wit, H. Was very shy of using it, As being loth to wear it out; And therefore bore it not about, Except on holidays or so, As men their best apparel do. Hudibras. 

Lord Curryfin was a man on the younger side of thirty, with a goodperson, handsome features, a powerful voice, and an agreeable delivery. He had a strong memory, much power of application, and a facility oflearning rapidly whatever he turned his mind to. But with all this, hevalued what he learned less for the pleasure which he derived from theacquisition, than from the effect which it enabled him to produce onothers. He liked to shine in conversation, and there was scarcely asubject which could be mooted in any society, on which his multifariousattainments did not qualify him to say something. He was readily takenby novelty in doctrine, and followed a new lead with great pertinacity;and in this way he had been caught by the science of pantopragmatics, and firmly believed for a time that a scientific organisation forteaching everybody everything would cure all the evils of society. Butbeing one of those 'over sharp wits whose edges are very soon turned, 'he did not adhere to any opinion with sufficient earnestness to be onany occasion betrayed into intemperance in maintaining it. So far fromthis, if he found any unfortunate opinion in a hopeless minority of thecompany he happened to be in, he was often chivalrous enough to cometo its aid, and see what could be said for it. When lecturing became amania, he had taken to lecturing; and looking about for an unoccupiedsubject, he had lighted on the natural history of fish, in which he soonbecame sufficiently proficient to amuse the ladies, and astonish thefishermen in any seaside place of fashionable resort. Here he alwaysarranged his lecture-room, so that the gentility of his audience couldsit on a platform, and the natives in a gallery above, and that thus thefishy and tarry odours which the latter were most likely to bring withthem might ascend into the upper air, and not mingle with the moredelicate fragrances that surrounded the select company below. He tooka summer tour to several watering-places, and was thoroughly satisfiedwith his success. The fishermen at first did not take cordially to him;but their wives attended from curiosity, and brought their husbands withthem on nights not favourable to fishing; and by degrees he won on theirattention, and they took pleasure in hearing him, though they learnednothing from him that was of any use in their trade. But he seemed toexalt their art in the eyes of themselves and others, and he told themsome pleasant anecdotes of strange fish, and of perilous adventures ofsome of their own craft, which led in due time to the crowding of hisgallery. The ladies went, as they always will go, to lectures, wherethey fancy they learn something, whether they learn anything or not; andon these occasions, not merely to hear the lecturer, but to be seenby him. To them, however attractive the lecture might have been, thelecturer was more so. He was an irresistible temptation to matrons withmarriageable daughters, and wherever he sojourned he was overwhelmedwith invitations. It was a contest who should have him to dinner, andin the simplicity of his heart, he ascribed to admiration of his scienceand eloquence all the courtesies and compliments with which he waseverywhere received. He did not like to receive unreturned favours, andnever left a place in which he had accepted many invitations, withoutgiving in return a ball and supper on a scale of great munificence;which filled up the measure of his popularity, and left on all hisguests a very enduring impression of a desire to see him again. 

So his time passed pleasantly, with a heart untouched by either loveor care, till he fell in at a dinner party with the Reverend DoctorOpimian. The doctor spoke of Gryll Grange and the Aristophanic comedywhich was to be produced at Christmas, and Lord Curryfin, with his usualdesire to have a finger in every pie, expressed an earnest wish to beintroduced to the squire. This was no difficult matter. The doctorhad quickly brought it about, and Lord Curryfin had gone over in thedoctor's company to pass a few days at the Grange. Here, in a very shorttime, he had made himself completely at home; and had taken on himselfthe office of architect, to superintend the construction of the theatre, receiving with due deference instructions on the subject from theReverend Doctor Opimian. 

Sufficient progress had been made in the comedy for the painter andmusician to begin work on their respective portions; and Lord Curryfin, whose heart was in his work, passed whole mornings in indefatigableattention to the progress of the building. It was near the house, and was to be approached by a covered way. It was a miniature of theAthenian theatre, from which it differed in having a roof, but itresembled it in the arrangements of the stage and orchestra, and in thegraduated series of semicircular seats for the audience. 

When dinner was announced, Mr. Gryll took in Miss Ilex. Miss Gryll, ofcourse, took the arm of Lord Curryfin. Mr. Falconer took in one of theyoung ladies, and placed her on the left hand of the host. The ReverendDr. Opimian took in another, and was consequently seated between herand Miss Ilex. Mr. Falconer was thus as far removed as possible from theyoung lady of the house, and was consequently, though he struggled asmuch as possible against it, frequently _distrait_, unconsciouslyand unwillingly observing Miss Gryll and Lord Curryfin, and makingoccasional observations very wide of the mark to the fair damsels onhis right and left, who set him down in their minds for a very oddyoung man. The soup and fish were discussed in comparative silence; theentrées not much otherwise; but suddenly a jubilant expression from Mr. MacBorrowdale hailed the disclosure of a large sirloin of beef whichfigured before _Mr. Gryll. _

_Mr. MacBorrowdale_. You are a man of taste, _Mr. Gryll. _ That is ahandsomer ornament of a dinner-table than clusters of nosegays, and allsorts of uneatable decorations. I detest and abominate the idea ofa Siberian dinner, where you just look on fiddle-faddles, while yourdinner is behind a screen, and you are served with rations like apauper. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I quite agree with Mr. MacBorrowdale. I like tosee my dinner. And herein I rejoice to have Addison on my side; for Iremember a paper, in which he objects to having roast beef placed on asideboard. Even in his day it had been displaced to make way for someincomprehensible French dishes, among which he could find nothingto eat. {1} I do not know what he would have said to its being placedaltogether out of sight. Still there is something to be said on theother side. There is hardly one gentleman in twenty who knows how tocarve; and as to ladies, though they did know once on a time, they donot now. What can be more pitiable than the right-hand man of the ladyof the house, awkward enough in himself, with the dish twisted roundto him in the most awkward possible position, digging in unutterablemortification for a joint which he cannot find, and wishing theunanatomisable volaille behind a Russian screen with the footmen?

 1 I was now in great hunger and confusion, when I thought I smelled the agreeable savour of roast beef; but could not tell from which dish it arose, though I did not question but it lay disguised in one of them. Upon turning my head I saw a noble sirloin on the side-table, smoking in the most delicious manner. I bad recourse to it more than once, and could not see without some indignation that substantial English dish banished in so ignominious a manner, to make way for French kickshaws. --Taller. No. 148. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I still like to see the _volaille_. It might be puton table with its joints divided. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ As that turkey-poult is, Mr. MacBorrowdale; which givesmy niece no trouble; but the precaution is not necessary with such aright-hand man as Lord Curryfin, who carves to perfection. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Your arrangements are perfect. At the last of theseSiberian dinners at which I had the misfortune to be present, Ihad offered me, for two of my rations, the tail of a mullet and thedrumstick of a fowl. Men who carve behind screens ought to pass acompetitive examination before a jury of gastronomers. Men who carve ata table are drilled by degrees into something like tolerable operatorsby the mere shame of the public process. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ I will guarantee you against a Siberian dinner, wheneveryou dine with me. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Mr. Gryll is a true conservative in dining. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ A true conservative, I hope. Not what a _soi-disant_conservative is practically: a man who sails under national colours, hauls them down, and hoists the enemy's, like old customs. I like aglass of wine with a friend. What say you, doctor? Mr. MacBorrowdalewill join us?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Most willingly. 

_Miss Gryll. _ My uncle and the doctor have got as usual into adiscussion, to the great amusement of the old lady who sits between themand says nothing. 

Lord Curryfin, Perhaps their discussion is too recondite for her. 

_Miss Gryll. _ No; they never talk before ladies of any subject in whichladies cannot join. And she has plenty to say for herself when shepleases. But when conversation pleases her, she likes to listen and besilent. It strikes me, by a few words that float this way, that they arediscussing the Art of Dining. She ought to be a proficient in it, forshe lives much in the world, and has met as many persons whom she isequally willing either to meet to-morrow, or never to meet again, asany regular _dineur en ville_. And indeed that is the price that mustbe paid for society. Whatever difference of character may lie under thesurface, the persons you meet in its circles are externally othersyet the same: the same dress, the same manners, the same tastes andopinions, real or assumed. Strongly defined characteristic differencesare so few, and artificial general resemblances so many, that in everyparty you may always make out the same theatrical company. It is likethe flowing of a river: it is always different water, but you do not seethe difference. 

Lord Curryfin. For my part I do not like these monotonous exteriors. Ilike visible character. Your uncle and Mr. MacBorrowdale are characters. Then the Reverend Dr. Opimian. He is not a man made to pattern. He issimple-minded, learned, tolerant, and the quintessence of _bonhomie_. The young gentleman who arrived to-day, the Hermit of the Folly, isevidently a character. I flatter myself, I am a character (_laughing_). 

Miss Gryll (_laughing_). Indeed you are, or rather many characters inone. I never knew a man of such infinite variety. You seem always topresent yourself in the aspect in which those you are with would bestwish to see you. 

There was some ambiguity in the compliment; but Lord Curryfin took it asimplying that his aspect in all its variety was agreeable to the younglady. He did not then dream of a rival in the Hermit of the Folly. 

CHAPTER XIV

MUSIC AND PAINTING--JACK OF DOVER

 (Greek passage) Anacreon. 

 I love not him, who o'er the wine-cup's flow Talks but of war, and strife, and scenes of woe: But him who can the Muses' gifts employ, To mingle love and song with festal joy. 

The dinner and dessert passed away. The ladies retired to thedrawing-room: the gentlemen discoursed over their wine. Mr. MacBorrowdale pronounced a eulogium on the port, which was cordiallyechoed by the divine in regard to the claret. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Doctor, your tastes and sympathies are very much withthe Greeks; but I doubt if you would have liked their wine. Condimentsof sea-water and turpentine must have given it an odd flavour; andmixing water with it, in the proportion of three to one, must havereduced the strength of merely fermented liquor to something like thesmallest ale of Christophero Sly. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I must say I should not like to put eithersalt water or turpentine into this claret: they would not improve itsbouquet; nor to dilute it with any portion of water: it has to my mind, as it is, just the strength it ought to have, and no more. But the Greektaste was so exquisite in all matters in which we can bring it to thetest, as to justify a strong presumption that in matters in which wecannot test it, it was equally correct. Salt water and turpentine do notsuit our wine: it does not follow that theirs had not in it some basisof contrast, which may have made them pleasant in combination. And itwas only a few of their wines that were so treated. 

Lord Curryfin. Then it could not have been much like their drink of thepresent day. 'My master cannot be right in his mind, ' said Lord Byron'sman Fletcher, 'or he would not have left Italy, where we had everything, to go to a country of savages; there is nothing to eat in Greece buttough billy-goats, or to drink but spirits of turpentine. '{1}

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ There is an ambiguous present, which somewhatperplexes me, in an epigram of Rhianus, 'Here is a vessel of half-wine, half-turpentine, and a singularly lean specimen of kid: the sender, Hippocrates, is worthy of all praise. '{2} Perhaps this was a doctor'spresent to a patient. Alcaeus, Anacreon, and Nonnus could not have sungas they did under the inspiration of spirit of turpentine. We learn fromAthenseus, and Pliny, and the old comedians, that the Greeks had a vastvariety of wine, enough to suit every variety of taste. I infer theunknown from the known. We know little of their music. I have no doubtit was as excellent in its kind as their sculpture. 

 1 Trelawny's Recollections. 

 2 (Greek passage) Anthologia Palatina: Appendix: 72. 

_Mr. Minim_. I can scarcely think that, sir. They seem to have had onlythe minor key, and to have known no more of counterpoint than they didof perspective. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Their system of painting did not requireperspective. Their main subject was on one foreground. Buildings, rocks, trees, served simply to indicate, not to delineate, the scene. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I must demur to their having only the minor key. The natural ascent of the voice is in the major key, and with theirexquisite sensibility to sound they could not have missed the obviousexpression of cheerfulness. With their three scales, diatonic, chromatic, and enharmonic, they must have exhausted every possibleexpression of feeling. Their scales were in true intervals; they hadreally major and minor tones; we have neither, but a confusion of both. They had both sharps and flats: we have neither, but a mere set ofsemitones, which serve for both. In their enharmonic scale the finenessof their ear perceived distinctions which are lost on the coarseness ofours. 

_Mr. Minim. _ With all that they never got beyond melody. They had noharmony, in our sense. They sang only in unisons and octaves. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ It is not clear that they did not sing in fifths. As toharmony in one sense, I will not go so far as to say with Ritson thatthe only use of the harmony is to spoil the melody; but I will say, that to my taste a simple accompaniment, in strict subordination to themelody, is far more agreeable than that Niagara of sound under which itis now the fashion to bury it. 

_Mr. Minim. _ In that case, you would prefer a song with a simplepianoforte accompaniment to the same song on the Italian stage. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ A song sung with feeling and expression is good, howeveraccompanied. Otherwise, the pianoforte is not much to my mind. All itsintervals are false, and temperament is a poor substitute for naturalintonation. Then its incapability of sustaining a note has led, as theonly means of producing effect, to those infinitesimal subdivisions ofsound, in which all sentiment and expression are twittered and fritteredinto nothingness. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I quite agree with you. The other day a bandpassed my gate playing 'The Campbells are coming'; but instead of thefine old Scotch lilt, and the emphasis on 'Oho! oho!' what they actuallyplayed was, 'The Ca-a-a-a-ampbells are co-o-o-o-ming, Oh-o-ho-o-o!Oh-o-ho-o-o'; I thought to myself, There is the essence and quintessenceof modern music. I like the old organ-music such as it was, when therewere no keys but C and F, and every note responded to a syllable. The effect of the prolonged and sustained sound must have been trulymagnificent:

 'Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swelled the note of praise. '

Who cares to hear sacred music on a piano?

_Mr. Minim. _ Yet I must say that there is a great charm in thatbrilliancy of execution which is an exclusively modern and very modernaccomplishment

_Mr. Falconer. _ To those who perceive it. All things are as they areperceived. To me music has no charm without expression. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ (_who, having observed Mr. MacBorrowdale'sdetermination not to be drawn into an argument, amused himself withasking his opinion on all subjects_). What is your opinion, Mr. MacBorrowdale?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I hold to the opinion I have already expressed, that this is as good a glass of port as ever I tasted. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I mean your opinion of modern music and musicalinstruments. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ The organ is very good for psalms, which I neversing, and the pianoforte for jigs, which I never dance. And if Iwere not to hear either of them from January to December, I should notcomplain of the privation. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ You are an utilitarian, Mr. MacBorrowdale. You are allfor utility--public utility--and you see none in music. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Nay, not exactly so. If devotion is good, ifcheerfulness is good, and if music promotes each of them in proper timeand place, music is useful. If I am as devout without the organ, and ascheerful without the piano, as I ever should be with them, that maybe the defect of my head or my ear. I am not for forcing my tastes orno-tastes on other people. Let every man enjoy himself in his ownway, while he does not annoy others. I would not deprive you of yourenjoyment of a brilliant symphony, and I hope you would not deprive meof my enjoyment of a glass of old wine. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian_:

 'Très mihi convivae prope dissentire videntur, Poscentes vario multum diversa palate'{1}

 1 Three guests dissent most widely in their wishes: With different taste they call for different dishes. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Nor our reverend friend of the pleasure of a classicalquotation. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And the utility, too, sir: for I think I amindebted to one for the pleasure of your acquaintance. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ When you did me the honour to compare my house to thePalace of Circe. The gain was mine. 

_Mr. Pallet. _ You admit, sir, that the Greeks had no knowledge ofperspective. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Observing that they had no need of it. Theirsubject was a foreground like a relievo. Their background was a symbol, not a representation. 'No knowledge* is perhaps too strong. They hadit where it was essential. They drew a peristyle, as it appeared to theeye, as accurately as we can do. In short, they gave to each distinctobject its own proper perspective, but to separate objects they did notgive their relative perspective, for the reason I have given, that theydid not need it. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ There is to me one great charm in their painting, aswe may judge from the specimens in Pompeii, which, though not theirgreatest works, indicate their school. They never crowded their canvaswith figures. They presented one, two, three, four, or at most fivepersons, preferring one and rarely exceeding three. These persons werenever lost in the profusion of scenery, dress, and decoration. They hadclearly-defined outlines, and were agreeable objects from any part ofthe room in which they were placed. 

_Mr. Pallet. _ They must have lost much in beauty of detail. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Therein is the essential difference of ancientand modern taste. Simple beauty--of idea in poetry, of sound in music, of figure in painting--was their great characteristic. Ours is detail inall these matters, overwhelming detail. We have not grand outlines forthe imagination of the spectator or hearer to fill up: his imaginationhas no play of its own: it is overloaded with _minutio_ andkaleidoscopical colours. 

_Lord Curryfin_. Detail has its own beauty. I have admired a Dutchpicture of a butcher's shop, where all the charm was in detail. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I cannot admire anything of the kind. I musttake pleasure in the thing represented before I can derive any from therepresentation. 

_Mr. Pallet. _ I am afraid, sir, as our favourite studies all lead us toextreme opinions, you think the Greek painting was the better for nothaving perspective, and the Greek music for not having harmony. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I think they had as much perspective and as muchharmony as was consistent with that simplicity which characterised theirpainting and music as much as their poetry. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ What is your opinion, Mr. MacBorrowdale?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I think you may just buz that bottle before you. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I mean your opinion of Greek perspective?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Troth, I am of opinion that a bottle looks smallerat a distance than when it is close by, and I prefer it as a full-sizedobject in the foreground. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I have often wondered that a gentleman so wellqualified as you are to discuss all subjects should so carefully avoiddiscussing any. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ After dinner, my lord, after dinner. I work hardall the morning at serious things, sometimes till I get a headache, which, however, does not often trouble me. After dinner I like to crackmy bottle and chirp and talk nonsense, and fit myself for the company ofJack of Dover. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Jack of Dover! Who was he?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ He was a man who travelled in search of a greaterfool than himself, and did not find him. {1}

 1 _Jacke of Dover His Quest of Inquirie, or His Privy Search for the Veriest Foote in England. _ London, 1604. Reprinted for the Percy Society, 1842. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ He must have lived in odd times. In our dayshe would not have gone far without falling in with a teetotaller, ora decimal coinage man, or a school-for-all man, or a competitiveexamination man, who would not allow a drayman to lower a barrel into acellar unless he could expound the mathematical principles by which heperformed the operation. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Nay, that is all pragmatical fooling. The foolingJack looked for was jovial fooling, fooling to the top of his bent, excellent fooling, which, under the semblance of folly, was both merryand wise. He did not look for mere unmixed folly, of which there neverwas a deficiency. The fool he looked for was one which it takes a wiseman to make--a Shakespearian fool. {1}

 1 OEuvre, ma foi, où n'est facile atteindre: Pourtant qu'il faut parfaitement sage être, Pour le vrai fol bien naïvement feindre. EUTRAPEL, p. 28. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ In that sense he might travel far, and return, as he did in his own day, without having found the fool he looked for. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale_. A teetotaller! Well! He is the trueHeautontimorumenos, the self-punisher, with a jug of toast-and-waterfor his Christmas wassail. So far his folly is merely pitiable, but hisintolerance makes it offensive. He cannot enjoy his own tipple unless hecan deprive me of mine. A fox that has lost his tail. There is no tyrantlike a thoroughpaced reformer. I drink to his own reformation. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ He is like Bababec's faquir, who sat in a chair full ofnails, _pour avoir de la considération. _ But the faquir did not wantothers to do the same. He wanted all the consideration for himself, andkept all the nails for himself. If these meddlers would do the like bytheir toast-and-water, nobody would begrudge it them. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Now, sir, if the man who has fooled the greatestnumber of persons to the top of their bent were to be adjudgedthe fittest companion for Jack of Dover, you would find him in adistinguished meddler with everything who has been for half-a-centurythe merry-andrew of a vast arena, which he calls moral and politicalscience, but which has in it a dash of everything that has ever occupiedhuman thought. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I know whom you mean; but he is a great man in his way, and has done much good. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ He has helped to introduce much change; whetherfor good or for ill remains to be seen. I forgot he was your lordship'sfriend. I apologise, and drink to his health. 

_Lord Curryfin_. Oh! pray, do not apologise to me. I would not havemy friendships, tastes, pursuits, and predilections interfere in theslightest degree with the fullest liberty of speech on all personsand things. There are many who think with you that he is a moral andpolitical Jack of Dover. So be it. Time will bring him to his level. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I will only say of the distinguished personage, that Jack of Dover would not pair off with him. This is the trueuniversal science, the oracle of _La Dive Bouteille. _

_Mr. Gryll. _ It is not exactly Greek music, Mr. Minim, that you aregiving us for our Aristophanic choruses. 

_Mr. Minim. _ No, sir; I have endeavoured to give you a good selection, as appropriate as I can make it. 

_Mr. Pallet. _ Neither am I giving you Greek painting for the scenery. Ihave taken the liberty to introduce perspective. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Very rightly both, for Aristophanes in London. 

_Mr. Minim. _ Besides, sir, we must have such music as your young ladiescan sing. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Assuredly; and so far as we have yet heard themrehearse, they sing it delightfully. 

After a little more desultory conversation, they adjourned to thedrawing-rooms. 

CHAPTER XV

EXPRESSION IN MUSIC--THE DAPPLED PALFREY--LOVE AND AGE--COMPETITIVEEXAMINATION

 (Greek passage) Anthologia Palatina: v. 72. 

 This, this is life, when pleasure drives out care. Short is the span of time we each may share. To-day, while love, wine, song, the hours adorn, To-day we live: none know the coming morn. 

Lord Curryfin's assiduities to Miss Gryll had discomposed Mr. Falconermore than he chose to confess to himself. Lord Curryfin, on entering thedrawing-rooms, went up immediately to the young lady of the house; andMr. Falconer, to the amazement of the reverend doctor, sat down in theouter drawing-room on a sofa by the side of Miss Ilex, with whom heentered into conversation. 

In the inner drawing-room some of the young ladies were engaged withmusic, and were entreated to continue their performance. Some of themwere conversing, or looking over new publications. 

After a brilliant symphony, performed by one of the young visitors, in which runs and crossings of demisemiquavers in _tempo prestissimo_occupied the principal share, Mr. Falconer asked Miss Ilex how she likedit. 

_Miss Ilex. _ I admire it as a splendid piece of legerdemain; but itexpresses nothing. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ It is well to know that such things can be done; andwhen we have reached the extreme complications of art, we may hope toreturn to Nature and simplicity. 

_Miss Ilex. _ Not that it is impossible to reconcile execution andexpression. Rubini identified the redundancies of ornament with theoverflowings of feeling, and the music of Donizetti furnished himmost happily with the means of developing this power. I never feltso transported out of myself as when I heard him sing _Tu che al cielspiegasti l' ali. _

_Mr. Falconer. _ Do you place Donizetti above Mozart?

_Miss Ilex. _ Oh, surely not. But for supplying expressive music toa singer like Rubini, I think Donizetti has no equal; at any rate nosuperior. For music that does not require, and does not even suit, sucha singer, but which requires only to be correctly interpreted to beuniversally recognised as the absolute perfection of melody, harmony, and expression, I think Mozart has none. Beethoven perhaps: he composedonly one opera, Fidelio; but what an opera that is! What an effect inthe sudden change of the key, when Leonora throws herself between herhusband and Pizarro: and again, in the change of the key with the changeof the scene, when we pass from the prison to the hall of the palace!What pathos in the songs of affection, what grandeur in the songs oftriumph, what wonderful combinations in the accompaniments, where aperpetual stream of counter-melody creeps along in the bass, yet inperfect harmony with the melody above!

_Mr. Falconer. _ What say you to Haydn?

_Miss Ilex. _ Haydn has not written operas, and my principal experienceis derived from the Italian theatre. But his music is essentiallydramatic. It is a full stream of perfect harmony in subjection toexquisite melody; and in simple ballad-strains, that go direct to theheart, he is almost supreme and alone. Think of that air with whichevery one is familiar, 'My mother bids me bind my hair': the gracefulflow of the first part, the touching effect of the semitones in thesecond: with true intonation and true expression, the less such an airis accompanied the better. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ There is a beauty and an appeal to the heart in balladswhich will never lose its effect except on those with whom the pretenceof fashion overpowers the feeling of Nature. {1}

 1 Braham said something like this to a Parliamentary Committee on Theatres, in 1832. 

_Miss Ilex. _ It is strange, however, what influence that pretence has, in overpowering all natural feelings, not in music alone. 

'Is it not curious, ' thought the doctor, 'that there is only one oldwoman in the room, and that my young friend should have selected her forthe object of his especial attention?'

But a few simple notes struck on the ear of his young friend, who rosefrom the sofa and approached the singer. The doctor took his place tocut off his retreat. 

Miss Gryll, who, though a proficient in all music, was particularlypartial to ballads, had just begun to sing one. 

[Illustration: In vain was pursuit, though some followed pell-mell132-100]

THE DAPPLED PALFREY{1}

 1 Founded on Le Vair Palefroi: among the Fabliaux published by Barbazan. 

 'My traitorous uncle has wooed for himself: Her father has sold her for land and for pelf: My steed, for whose equal the world they might search, In mockery they borrow to bear her to church. 

 'Oh! there is one path through the forest so green, Where thou and I only, my palfrey, have been: We traversed it oft, when I rode to her bower To tell my love tale through the rift of the tower. 

 'Thou know'st not my words, but thy instinct is good: By the road to the church lies the path through the wood: Thy instinct is good, and her love is as true: Thou wilt see thy way homeward: dear palfrey, adieu. '

 They feasted full late and full early they rose, And church-ward they rode more than half in a doze: The steed in an instant broke off from the throng, And pierced the green path, which he bounded along. 

 In vain was pursuit, though some followed pell-mell: Through bramble and thicket they floundered and fell. On the backs of their coursers some dozed as before, And missed not the bride till they reached the church door. 

 The knight from his keep on the forest-bound gazed: The drawbridge was down, the portcullis was raised: And true to his hope came the palfrey amain, With his only loved lady, who checked not the rein. 

 The drawbridge went up: the portcullis went down; The chaplain was ready with bell, book, and gown: The wreck of the bride-train arrived at the gate, The bride showed the ring, and they muttered 'Too late!'

 'Not too late for a feast, though too late for a fray; What's done can't be undone: make peace while you may': So spake the young knight, and the old ones complied; And quaffed a deep health to the bridegroom and bride. 

Mr. Falconer had listened to the ballad with evident pleasure. He turnedto resume his place on the sofa, but finding it preoccupied by thedoctor, he put on a look of disappointment, which seemed to the doctorexceedingly comic. 

'Surely, ' thought the doctor, 'he is not in love with the old maid. '

Miss Gryll gave up her place to a young lady, who in her turn sang aballad of a different character. 

LOVE AND AGE

 I played with you 'mid cowslips blowing, When I was six and you were four; When garlands weaving, flower-balls throwing, Were pleasures soon to please no more. Through groves and meads, o'er grass and heather, With little playmates, to and fro, We wandered hand in hand together; But that was sixty years ago. 

 You grew a lovely roseate maiden, And still our early love was strong; Still with no care our days were laden, They glided joyously along; And I did love you very dearly, How dearly words want power to show; I thought your heart was touched as nearly; But that was fifty years ago. 

 Then other lovers came around you, Your beauty grew from year to year. And many a splendid circle, found you The centre of its glittering sphere. 

 I saw you then, first vows forsaking, On rank and wealth your hand bestow; Oh, then I thought my heart was breaking, -- But that was forty years ago. 

 And I lived on, to wed another; No cause she gave me to repine; And when I heard you were a mother, I did not wish the children mine. My own young flock, in fair progression Made up a pleasant Christmas row: My joy in them was past expression, -- But that was thirty years ago. 

 You grew a matron plump and comely, You dwelt in fashion's brightest blaze; My earthly lot was far more homely; But I too had my festal days. No merrier eyes have ever glistened Around the hearthstone's wintry glow, Than when my youngest child was christened, -- But that was twenty years ago. 

 Time passed. My eldest girl was married, And I am now a grandsire gray; One pet of four years old I've carried Among the wild-flowered meads to play. In our old fields of childish pleasure, Where now, as then, the cowslips blow, She fills her basket's ample measure, -- And that is not ten years ago. 

 But though first love's impassioned blindness Has passed away in colder light, I still have thought of you with kindness, And shall do, till our last good-night. The ever-rolling silent hours Will bring a time we shall not know, When our young days of gathering flowers Will be an hundred years ago. 

_Miss Ilex. _ That is a melancholy song. But of how many first loves isit the true tale! And how many are far less happy!

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It is simple, and well sung, with a distinctnessof articulation not often heard. 

_Miss Ilex. _ That young lady's voice is a perfect contralto. It issingularly beautiful, and I applaud her for keeping within her naturalcompass, and not destroying her voice by forcing it upwards, as too manydo. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Forcing, forcing seems to be the rule of life. Ayoung lady who forces her voice into _altissimo_, and a young gentlemanwho forces his mind into a receptacle for a chaos of crudities, arepretty much on a par. Both do ill, where, if they were contented withattainments within the limits of natural taste and natural capacity, they might both do well. As to the poor young men, many of them becomemere crammed fowls, with the same result as Hermogenes, who, afterastonishing the world with his attainments at seventeen, came to asudden end at the age of twenty-five, and spent the rest of a long lifein hopeless imbecility. 

_Miss Ilex. _ The poor young men can scarcely help themselves. They arenot held qualified for a profession unless they have overloaded theirunderstanding with things of no use in it; incongruous things too, whichcould never be combined into the pursuits of natural taste. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Very true. Brindley would not have passed as acanal-maker, nor Edward Williams{1} as a bridge-builder. I saw theother day some examination papers which would have infallibly excludedMarlborough from the army and Nelson from the navy. I doubt if Haydnwould have passed as a composer before a committee of lords like one ofhis pupils, who insisted on demonstrating to him that he was continuallysinning against the rules of counterpoint; on which Haydn said to him, 'I thought I was to teach you, but it seems you are to teach me, andI do not want a preceptor, ' and thereon he wished his lordship agood-morning. Fancy Watt being asked how much Joan of Naples got forAvignon when she sold it to Pope Clement the Sixth, and being held unfitfor an engineer because he could not tell. 

 1 The builder of Pont-y-Pryd. 

_Miss Ilex. _ That is an odd question, doctor. But how much did she getfor it?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Nothing. He promised ninety thousand goldenflorins, but he did not pay one of them: and that, I suppose, is theprofound sense of the question. It is true he paid her after a fashion, in his own peculiar coin. He absolved her of the murder of her firsthusband, and perhaps he thought that was worth the money. But how manyof our legislators could answer the question? Is it not strangethat candidates for seats in Parliament should not be subjected tocompetitive examination? Plato and Persius{1} would furnish good hintsfor it. I should like to see honourable gentlemen having to answer suchquestions as are deemed necessary tests for government clerks, beforethey would be held qualified candidates for seats in the legislature. That would be something like a reform in the Parliament. Oh that it wereso, and I were the examiner! Ha, ha, ha, what a comedy!

 1 Plato: Alcibiades, i. ; Persius: Sat. Iv. 

The doctor's hearty laugh was contagious, and Miss Ilex joined in it. Mr. MacBorrowdale came up. 

__Mr. MacBorrowdale. __ You are as merry as if you had discovered theobject of Jack of Dover's quest:

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Something very like it. We have an honourablegentleman under competitive examination for a degree in legislativewisdom. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Truly, that is fooling competition to the top ofits bent. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Competitive examination for clerks, and nonefor legislators, is not this an anomaly? Ask the honourable memberfor Muckborough on what acquisitions in history and mental and moralphilosophy he founds his claim of competence to make laws for thenation. He can only tell you that he has been chosen as the mostconspicuous Grub among the Moneygrubs of his borough to be therepresentative of all that is sordid, selfish, hard-hearted, unintellectual, and antipatriotic, which are the distinguishingqualities of the majority among them. Ask a candidate for a clerkshipwhat are his qualifications? He may answer, 'All that are requisite:reading, writing, and arithmetic. ' 'Nonsense, ' says the questioner. 'Doyou know the number of miles in direct distance from Timbuctoo to thetop of Chimborazo?' 'I do not, ' says the candidate. 'Then you willnot do for a clerk, ' says the competitive examiner. Does Moneygrub ofMuckborough know? He does not; nor anything else. The clerk may be ableto answer some of the questions put to him. Moneygrub could not answerone of them. But he is very fit for a legislator. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Eh! but he is subjected to a pretty severecompetitive examination of his own, by what they call a constituency, who just put him to the test in the art of conjuring, to see if he canshift money from his own pocket into theirs, without any inconvenientthird party being aware of the transfer. 

CHAPTER XVI

MISS NIPHET--THE THEATRE--THE LAKE--DIVIDED ATTRACTION--INFALLIBLESAFETY

 Amiam: che non ha tregua Con gli anni umana vita, e si dilegua. Amiam: che il sol si muore, e poi rinasce; A noi sua breve luce S'asconde, e il sonno eterna notte adduce. Tasso: Aminta. 

 Love, while youth knows its prime, For mortal life can make no truce with time. Love: for the sun goes down to rise as bright; To us his transient light Is veiled, and sleep comes on with everlasting night. 

Lord Curryfin was too much a man of the world to devote his attentionsin society exclusively to one, and make them the subject of specialremark. He left the inner drawing-room, and came up to the doctor to askhim if he knew the young lady who had sung the last ballad. The doctorknew her well. She was Miss Niphet, the only daughter of a gentleman offortune, residing a few miles distant. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ As I looked at her while she was singing, I thought ofSouthey's description of Laila's face in _Thadaba_:

 A broad light floated o'er its marble paleness, As the wind waved the fountain fire. 

Marble paleness suits her well. There is something statuesque in herwhole appearance. I could not help thinking what an admirable Camillashe would make in Cimarosa's _Orazii. _ Her features are singularlyregular. They had not much play, but the expression of her voice wassuch as if she felt the full force of every sentiment she uttered. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I consider her to be a person of very deepfeeling, which she does not choose should appear on the surface. Sheis animated in conversation when she is led into it. Otherwise, she issilent and retiring, but obliging in the extreme; always ready to takepart in anything that is going forward She never needs, for example, being twice asked to sing. She is free from the vice which Horaceascribes to all singers, of not complying when asked, and never leavingoff when they have once begun. If this be a general rule, she is anexception to it. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I rather wonder she does not tinge her cheeks with aslight touch of artificial red, just as much as would give her a sort ofblush-rose complexion. 

_Miss Ilex. _ You will not wonder when you know her better. Theartificial, the false in any degree, however little, is impossible toher. She does not show all she thinks and feels, but what she does showis truth itself. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ And what part is she to take in the Aristophaniccomedy?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ She is to be the leader of the chorus. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I have not seen her at the rehearsals. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ So far, her place has been supplied. You willsee her at the next. 

In the meantime, Mr. Falconer had gone into the inner drawing-room, satdown by Miss Gryll, and entered into conversation with her. The doctorobserved them from a distance, but with all the opportunity he hadhad for observation, he was still undetermined in his opinion of theimpression they might have made on each other. 

'It is well, ' he said to himself, 'that Miss Ilex is an old maid. Ifshe were as young as Morgana, I think she would win our young friend'sheart. Her mind is evidently much to his mind. But so would Morgana'sbe, if she could speak it as freely. She does not; why not? To him atany rate. She seems under no restraint to _Lord Curryfin. _ A good omen, perhaps. I never saw a couple so formed for each other. Heaven help me!I cannot help harping on that string. After all, the Vestals are theobstacle. '

Lord Curryfin, seeing Miss Niphet sitting alone at the side of the room, changed his place, sate down by her, and entered into conversation onthe topics of the day, novels, operas, pictures, and various phenomenaof London life. She kept up the ball with him very smartly. She wasevery winter, May, and June, in London, mixed much in society, and saweverything that was to be seen. Lord Curryfin, with all his Proteanaccomplishments, could not start a subject on which she had notsomething to say. But she originated nothing. He spoke, and sheanswered. One thing he remarked as singular, that though she spoke withknowledge of many things, she did not speak as with taste or distasteof any. The world seemed to flow under her observation without evenruffling the surface of her interior thoughts. This perplexed hisversatile lordship. He thought the young lady would be a subject worthstudying: it was clear that she was a character. So far so well. He feltthat he should not rest satisfied till he was able to define it. 

[Illustration: Mr. Pallet devoted to the Scenery 141-108]

The theatre made rapid progress. The walls were completed. The buildingwas roofed in. The stage portion was so far finished as to allow Mr. Pallet to devote every morning to the scenery. The comedy was completed. The music was composed. The rehearsals went on with vigour, but for thepresent in the drawing-rooms. 

[Illustration: Lord Curryfin swinging over the stage 144-108]

Miss Niphet, returning one morning from a walk before breakfast, wentinto the theatre to see its progress, and found Lord Curryfin swingingover the stage on a seat suspended by long ropes from above the visiblescene. He did not see her. He was looking upwards, not as one indulgingin an idle pastime, but as one absorbed in serious meditation. All atonce the seat was drawn up, and he disappeared in the blue canvas thatrepresented the sky. She was not aware that gymnastics were to form partof the projected entertainment, and went away, associating the idea ofhis lordship, as many had done before, with something like a feeling ofthe ludicrous. 

Miss Niphet was not much given to laughter, but whenever she lookedat Lord Curryfin during breakfast she could not quite suppress a smilewhich hovered on her lips, and which was even the more forced on her bythe contrast between his pantomimic disappearance and his quiet courtesyand remarkably good manners in company. The lines of Dryden--

 A man so various, that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome, --passed through her mind as she looked at him. 

Lord Curryfin noticed the suppressed smile, but did not apprehend thatit had any relation to himself. He thought some graceful facetiousnesshad presented itself to the mind of the young lady, and that she wasamusing herself with her own fancy. It was, however, to him anothertouch of character, that lighted up her statuesque countenance witha new and peculiar beauty. By degrees her features resumed theiraccustomed undisturbed serenity. Lord Curryfin felt satisfied thatin that aspect he had somewhere seen something like her, and afterrevolving a series of recollections, he remembered that it was a statueof Melpomene. 

There was in the park a large lake, encircled with varieties ofwoodland, and by its side was a pavilion, to which Miss Niphet oftenresorted to read in an afternoon. And at no great distance from it wasthe boat-house, to which Lord Curryfin often resorted for a boat, to rowor sail on the water. Passing the pavilion in the afternoon, he sawthe young lady, and entering into conversation, ascertained what had soamused her in the morning. He told her he had been trying--severallyby himself, and collectively with the workmen--the strength of thesuspending lines for the descent of the Chorus of Clouds in theAristophanic comedy. She said she had been very ungrateful to laugh atthe result of his solicitude for the safety of herself and her youngfriends. He said that in having moved her to smile, even at his expense, he considered himself amply repaid. 

From this time they often met in the pavilion, that is to say, he oftenfound her reading there on his way to a boat, and stopped awhile toconverse with her. They had always plenty to say, and it resulted thathe was always sorry to leave her, and she was always sorry to partwith him. By degrees the feeling of the ludicrous ceased to be thepredominant sentiment which she associated with him. _L'amour vient sansqu'on y pense_. 

The days shortened, and all things were sufficiently advanced to admitof rehearsals in the theatre. The hours from twelve to two--from noon toluncheon--were devoted to this pleasant pastime. At luncheon there wasmuch merriment over the recollections of the morning's work, and afterluncheon there was walking in the park, rowing or sailing on the lake, riding or driving in the adjacent country, archery in a spacious field;and in bad weather billiards, reading in the library, music in thedrawing-rooms, battledore and shuttlecock in the hall; in short, all themethods of passing time agreeably which are available to good company, when there are ample means and space for their exercise; to saynothing of making love, which Lord Curryfin did with all delicacy anddiscretion--directly to Miss Gryll, as he had begun, and indirectlyto Miss Niphet, for whom he felt an involuntary and almost unconsciousadmiration. He had begun to apprehend that with the former he had adangerous rival in the Hermit of the Folly, and he thought the latterhad sufficient charms to console even Orlando for the loss of Angelica. In short, Miss Gryll had first made him think of marriage, and wheneverhe thought his hopes were dim in that quarter, he found an antidote todespair in the contemplation of the statue-like damsel. 

Mr. Falconer took more and more pleasure in Miss Gryll's society, but hedid not declare himself. He was more than once on the point of doing so, but the images of the Seven Sisters rose before him, and he suspendedthe intention. On these occasions he always went home for a day or twoto fortify his resolution against his heart. Thus he passed his timebetween the Grange and the Tower, 'letting I dare not wait upon Iwould. '

Miss Gryll had listened to _Lord Curryfin. _ She had neither encouragednor discouraged him. She thought him the most amusing person she hadever known. She liked his temper, his acquirements, and his manners. She could not divest herself of that feeling of the ludicrous whicheverybody seemed to associate with him; but she thought the chances oflife presented little hope of a happier marriage than a woman who wouldfall in with his tastes and pursuits--which, notwithstanding theirtincture of absurdity, were entertaining and even amiable--might hopefor with him. Therefore she would not say No, though, when she thoughtof Mr. Falconer, she could not say Yes. 

Lord Curryfin invented a new sail of infallible safety, which resulted, like most similar inventions, in capsizing the inventor on the firsttrial. Miss Niphet, going one afternoon, later than usual, to heraccustomed pavilion, found his lordship scrambling up the bank, and hisboat, keel upwards, at some little distance in the lake. 

[Illustration: Found his lordship scrambling up the bank 148-119]

For a moment her usual self-command forsook her. She held out both herhands to assist him up the bank, and as soon as he stood on dry land, dripping like a Triton in trousers, she exclaimed in such a tone as hehad never before heard, 'Oh! my dear lord!' Then, as if conscious of hermomentary aberration, she blushed with a deeper blush than that of theartificial rose which he had once thought might improve her complexion. She attempted to withdraw her hands, but he squeezed them both ardently, and exclaimed in his turn, like a lover in a tragedy--

'Surely, till now I never looked on beauty. '

She was on the point of saying, 'Surely, before now you have looked onMiss Gryll, ' but she checked herself. She was content to receive thespeech as a sudden ebullition of gratitude for sympathy, and disengagingher hands, she insisted on his returning immediately to the house tochange his 'dank and dripping weeds. '

As soon as he was out of sight she went to the boat-house, to summon themen who had charge of it to the scene of the accident. Putting off inanother boat, they brought the capsized vessel to land, and hung up thesail to dry. She returned in the evening, and finding the sail dry, sheset it on fire. Lord Curryfin, coming down to look after his tackle, found the young lady meditating over the tinder. She said to him--

[Illustration: That sail will never put you under the water again150-120]

He was touched by this singular development of solicitude for hispreservation, but could not help saying something in praise of hisinvention, giving a demonstration of the infallibility of the principle, with several scientific causes of error in working out the practice. Hehad no doubt it would be all right on another experiment. Seeing thather looks expressed unfeigned alarm at this announcement, he assuredher that her kind interest in his safety was sufficient to prevent histrying his invention again. They walked back together to the house, andin the course of conversation she said to him--

'The last time I saw the words Infallible Safety, they were paintedon the back of a stage-coach which, in one of our summer tours, we sawlying by the side of the road, with its top in a ditch, and its wheelsin the air. '

The young lady was still a mystery to _Lord Curryfin. _

'Sometimes, ' he said to himself, 'I could almost fancy Melpomene in lovewith me. But I have seldom seen her laugh, and when she has done so nowand then, it has usually been at me. That is not much like love. Herlast remark was anything but a compliment to my inventive genius. '

CHAPTER XVII

HORSE-TAMING--LOVE IN DILEMMA--INJUNCTIONS--SONOROUS VASES

 O gran contrasto in giovenil pensiero, Desir di laude, ed impeto d'amore 1 Ariosto: c. 25. 

 How great a strife in youthful minds can raise Impulse of love, and keen desire of praise. 

Lord Curryfin, amongst his multifarious acquirements, had taken lessonsfrom the great horse-tamer, and thought himself as well qualified ashis master to subdue any animal of the species, however vicious. Itwas therefore with great pleasure he heard that there was a singularlyrefractory specimen in Mr. Gryll's stables. 

[Illustration: A singularly refractory specimen 153-123]

The next morning after hearing this, he rose early, and took histroublesome charge in hand. After some preliminary management heproceeded to gallop him round and round a large open space in the park, which was visible from the house. Miss Niphet, always an early riser, and having just prepared for a walk, saw him from her chamber windowengaged in this perilous exercise, and though she knew nothing ofthe peculiar character of his recalcitrant disciple, she saw by itsshakings, kickings, and plungings, that it was exerting all its energiesto get rid of its rider. At last it made a sudden dash into the wood, and disappeared among the trees. 

It was to the young lady a matter of implicit certainty that somedisaster would ensue. She pictured to herself all the contingencies ofaccident; being thrown to the ground and kicked by the horse's hoofs, being dashed against a tree, or suspended, like Absalom, by the hair. She hurried down and hastened towards the wood, from which, just as shereached it, the rider and horse emerged at full speed as before. But assoon as Lord Curryfin saw Miss Niphet, he took a graceful wheel round, and brought the horse to a stand by her side; for by this time he hadmastered the animal, and brought it to the condition of Sir Walter'shunter in Wordsworth--

 Weak as a lamb the hour that it is yeaned And foaming like a mountain cataract{1}

She did not attempt to dissemble that she had come to look for him, butsaid--

'I expected to find you killed. '

[Illustration: I expected to find you killed 156-124]

He said, 'You see, all my experiments are not failures. I have been morefortunate with the horse than the sail. '

At this moment one of the keepers appeared at a little distance. Lord Curryfin beckoned to him, and asked him to take the horse to thestables. The keeper looked with some amazement, and exclaimed--

'Why, this is the horse that nobody could manage!'

'You will manage him easily enough now, ' said _Lord Curryfin. _

So it appeared; and the keeper took charge of him, not altogetherwithout misgiving. 

Miss Niphefs feelings had been over-excited, the more so from theseverity with which she was accustomed to repress them. The energy whichhad thus far upheld her suddenly gave way. She sat down on a fallentree, and burst into tears. Lord Curryfin sat down by her, and took herhand. She allowed him to retain it awhile; but all at once snatched itfrom him and sped towards the house over the grass, with the swiftnessand lightness of Virgil's Camilla, leaving his lordship as muchastonished at her movements as the Volscian crowd, _attonitis inhiansanimis_, {2} had been at those of her prototype. He could not helpthinking, 'Few women run gracefully; but she runs like anotherAtalanta. '

 1 Hartleap Well. 

 2 Gaping with wondering minds. 

When the party met at breakfast, Miss Niphet was in her place, lookingmore like a statue than ever, with, if possible, more of marblepaleness. Lord Curryfin's morning exploit, of which the story had soonfound its way from the stable to the hall, was the chief subject ofconversation. He had received a large share of what he had always somuch desired--applause and admiration; but now he thought he wouldwillingly sacrifice all he had ever received in that line, to see eventhe shadow of a smile, or the expression of a sentiment of any kind, onthe impassive face of Melpomene. She left the room when she rose fromthe breakfast-table, appeared at the rehearsal, and went through herpart as usual; sat down at luncheon, and departed as soon as it wasover. She answered, as she had always done, everything that was saidto her, frankly, and to the purpose; and also, as usual, she originatednothing. 

In the afternoon Lord Curryfin went down to the pavilion. She was notthere. He wandered about the grounds in all directions, and returnedseveral times to the pavilion, always in vain. At last he sat down inthe pavilion, and fell into a meditation. He asked himself how it couldbe, that having begun by making love to Miss Gryll, having, indeed, gone too far to recede unless the young lady absolved him, he was nowevidently in a transition state towards a more absorbing and violentpassion, for a person who, with all her frankness, was incomprehensible, and whose snowy exterior seemed to cover a volcanic fire, which shestruggled to repress, and was angry with herself when she did notthoroughly succeed in so doing. If he were quite free he would do hispart towards the solution of the mystery, by making a direct and formalproposal to her. As a preliminary to this, he might press Miss Gryllfor an answer. All he had yet obtained from her was, 'Wait till we arebetter acquainted. ' He was in a dilemma between Morgana and Melpomene. It had not entered into his thoughts that Morgana was in love with him;but he thought it nevertheless very probable that she was in a fairway to become so, and that even as it was she liked him well enough toaccept him. On the other hand, he could not divest himself of the ideathat Melpomene was in love with him. It was true, all the sympathy shehad yet shown might have arisen from the excitement of strong feelings, at the real or supposed peril of a person with whom she was in thehabit of daily intercourse. It might be so. Still, the sympathy was veryimpassioned; though, but for his rashness in self-exposure to danger, hemight never have known it. A few days ago, he would not press Miss Gryllfor an answer, because he feared it might be a negative. Now he wouldnot, because he was at least not in haste for an affirmative. Butsupposing it were a negative, what certainty had he that a negative fromMorgana would not be followed by a negative from Melpomene? Then hisheart would be at sea without rudder or compass. We shall leave himawhile to the contemplation of his perplexities. 

As his thoughts were divided, so were Morgana's. If Mr. Falconer shouldpropose to her, she felt she could accept him without hesitation. Shesaw clearly the tendency of his feelings towards her. She saw, at thesame time, that he strove to the utmost against them in behalf of hisold associations, though, with all his endeavours, he could not suppressthem in her presence. So there was the lover who did not propose, andwho would have been preferred; and there was the lover who had proposed, and who, if it had been clear that the former chance was hopeless, wouldnot have been lightly given up. 

If her heart had been as much interested in _Lord Curryfin. _ as it wasin Mr. Falconer, she would quickly have detected a diminution inthe ardour of his pursuit; but so for as she might have noticed anydifférence in his conduct, she ascribed it only to deference to herrecommendation to 'wait till they were better acquainted. ' The longerand the more quietly he waited, the better it seemed to please her. Itwas not on him, but on Mr. Falconer, that the eyes of her observancewere fixed. She would have given Lord Curryfin his liberty instantly ifshe had thought he wished it. 

Mr. Falconer also had his own dilemma, between his new love and his oldaffections. Whenever the first seemed likely to gain the ascendency, the latter rose in their turn, like Antaeus from earth, with renovatedstrength. And he kept up their force by always revisiting the Tower, when the contest seemed doubtful. 

Thus, Lord Curryfin and Mr. Falconer were rivals, with a new phase ofrivalry. In some of their variations of feeling, each wished the othersuccess; the latter, because he struggled against a spell that grewmore and more difficult to be resisted; the former, because he had beensuddenly overpowered by the same kind of light that had shone from thestatue of Pygmalion. Thus their rivalry, such as it was, was entirelywithout animosity, and in no way disturbed the harmony of theAristophanic party. 

The only person concerned in these complications whose thoughts andfeelings were undivided, was Miss Niphet. She had begun by laughing atLord Curryfin, and had ended by forming a decided partiality lor him. She contended against the feeling; she was aware of his intentionstowards Miss Gryll; and she would perhaps have achieved a conquest overherself, if her sympathies had not been kept in a continual fever by therashness with which he exposed himself to accidents by flood and field. At the same time, as she was more interested in observing Morganathan Morgana was in observing her, she readily perceived the latter'spredilection for Mr. Falconer, and the gradual folding around him ofthe enchanted net. These observations, and the manifest progressiveconcentration of Lord Curryfin's affections on herself, showed her thatshe was not in the way of inflicting any very severe wound on her youngfriend's feelings, or encouraging a tendency to absolute hopelessness inher own. 

Lord Curryfin was pursuing his meditations in the pavilion, when theyoung lady, whom he had sought there in vain, presented herself beforehim in great agitation. He started up to meet her, and held out both hishands. She took them both, held them a moment, disengaged them, and satdown at a little distance, which he immediately reduced to nothing. Hethen expressed his disappointment at not having previously found herin the pavilion, and his delight at seeing her now. After a pause, she said: 'I felt so much disturbed in the morning, that I shouldhave devoted the whole day to recovering calmness of thought, but forsomething I have just heard. My maid tells me that you are going to trythat horrid horse in harness, and in a newly-invented high phaeton ofyour own, and that the grooms say they would not drive that horse inany carriage, nor any horse in that carriage, and that you have a doublechance of breaking your neck. I have disregarded all other feelings toentreat you to give up your intention. '

Lord Curryfin assured her that he felt too confident in his power overhorses, and in the safety of his new invention, to admit the possibilityof danger: but that it was a very small sacrifice to her to restricthimself to tame horses and low carriages, or to abstinence from allhorses and carriages, if she desired it. 

'And from sailing-boats, ' she added. 

'And from sailing-boats, ' he answered. 

'And from balloons, ' she said. 

'And from balloons, ' he answered. 'But what made you think of balloons?'

'Because, ' she said, 'they are dangerous, and you are inquiring andadventurous. '

[Illustration: And from balloons 162-130]

'To tell you the truth, ' he said, 'I have been up in a balloon. Ithought it the most disarming excursion I ever made. I have thought ofgoing up again. I have invented a valve------'

'O heavens!' she exclaimed. 'But I have your promise touching horses, and carriages, and sails, and balloons. '

'You have, ' he said. 'It shall be strictly adhered to. '

She rose to return to the house. But this time he would not part withher, and they returned together. 

Thus prohibited by an authority to which he yielded implicit obediencefrom trying further experiments at the risk of his neck, he restrictedhis inventive faculty to safer channels, and determined that thestructure he was superintending should reproduce, as far as possible, all the peculiarities of the Athenian Theatre. Amongst other things, he studied attentively the subject of the _echeia, _ or sonorous vases, which, in that vast theatre, propagated and clarified sound; and thoughin its smaller representative they were not needed, he thought it stillpossible that they might produce an agreeable effect But with all theassistance of the Reverend Doctor Opimian, he found it difficultto arrive at a clear idea of their construction, or even of theirprinciple; for the statement of Vitruvius, that they gave an accordantresonance in the fourth, the fifth, and the octave, seemed incompatiblewith the idea of changes of key, and not easily reconcilable with thedoctrine of Harmonics. At last he made up his mind that they had noreference to key, but solely to pitch, modified by duly-proportionedmagnitude and distance; he therefore set to work assiduously, got anumber of vases made, ascertained that they would give a resonance ofsome kind, and had them disposed at proper intervals round the audiencepart of the building. This being done, the party assembled, some asaudience, some as performers, to judge of the effect. The first burst ofchoral music produced a resonance, like the sound produced by sea-shellswhen placed against the ear, only many times multiplied, and growinglike the sound of a gong: it was the exaggerated concentration of thesymphony of a lime-grove full of cockchafers, {1} on a fine evening inthe early summer. The experiment was then tried with single voices: thehum was less in itself, but greater in proportion. It was then triedwith speaking: the result was the same: a powerful and perpetualhum, not resonant peculiarly to the diatessaron, the diapente, or thediapason, but making a new variety of continuous fundamental bass. 

 1 The drone of the cockchafer, as he wheels by you in drowsy hum, sounds his _corno di bassetto_ on F below the line. -- Gardiner's Music of Nature. 

'I am satisfied, ' said Lord Curryfin, 'the art of making these vases isas hopelessly lost as that of making mummies. ' Miss Niphet encouragedhim to persevere. She said:

'You have produced a decided resonance: the only thing is to subdue it, which you may perhaps effect by diminishing the number and enlarging theintervals of the vases. '

He determined to act on the suggestion, and she felt that, for somelittle time at least, she had kept him out of mischief. But wheneveranything was said or sung in the theatre, it was necessary, for thetime, to remove the _echeia_. 

CHAPTER XVIII

LECTURES--THE POWER OF PUBLIC OPINION--A NEW ORDER OF CHIVALRY

 si, Mimnermus uti censet, sine amore jocisque nil est jucundum, vivas in amore jorisqne. HOR. Epist. I. Vi 65, 66. 

 If, as Mimnennus held, nought else can move Your soul to pleasure, live in sports and love. 

The theatre was completed, and was found to be, without the _echeia_, afine vehicle of sound. It was tried, not only in the morning rehearsals, but occasionally, and chiefly on afternoons of bad weather, byrecitations, and even lectures; for though some of the party attached novalue to that mode of dogmatic instruction, yet with the majority, andespecially with the young ladies, it was decidedly in favour. 

One rainy afternoon Lord Curryfin was entreated to deliver in thetheatre his lecture on Fish; he readily complied, and succeeded inamusing his audience more, and instructing them as much, as any of hismore pretentious brother lecturers could have done. We shall not reportthe lecture, but we refer those who may be curious on the subject to thenext meeting of the Pantopragmatic Society, under the presidency of LordFacing-both-ways, and the vice-presidency of Lord Michin Malicho. 

At intervals in similar afternoons of bad weather some others of theparty were requested to favour the company with lectures or recitationsin the theatre. Mr. Minim delivered a lecture on music, Mr. Pallet onpainting; Mr. Falconer, though not used to lecturing, got up one ondomestic life in the Homeric age. Even Mr. Gryll took his turn, andexpounded the Epicurean philosophy. Mr. MacBorrowdale, who had noobjection to lectures before dinner, delivered one on all the affairs ofthe world--foreign and domestic, moral, political, and literary. Inthe course of it he touched on Reform. 'The stone which Lord MichinMalicho--who was the Gracchus of the last Reform, and is the Sisyphus ofthe present--has been so laboriously pushing up hill, is for the presentdeposited at the bottom in the Limbo of Vanity. If it should eversurmount the summit and run down on the other side, it will infalliblyroll over and annihilate the franchise of the educated classes; for itwould not be worth their while to cross the road to exercise it againstthe rabble preponderance which would then have been created. Thirtyyears ago, Lord Michin Malicho had several cogent arguments in favour ofReform. One was, that the people were roaring for it, and that thereforethey must have it. He has now in its favour the no less cogent argument, that the people do not care about it, and that the less it is asked forthe greater will be the grace of the boon. On the former occasion theout-of-door logic was irresistible. Burning houses, throwing dead catsand cabbage-stumps into carriages, and other varieties of the samesystem of didactics, demonstrated the fitness of those who practisedthem to have representatives in Parliament. So they got theirrepresentatives, and many think Parliament would have been betterwithout them. My father was a staunch Reformer. In his neighbourhoodin London was the place of assembly of a Knowledge-is-Power Club. Themembers at the close of their meetings collected mending-stones fromthe road, and broke the windows to the right and left of their lineof march. They had a flag on which was inscribed, "The power of publicopinion. " Whenever the enlightened assembly met, my father closed hisshutters, but, closing within, they did not protect the glass. Onemorning he picked up, from where it had fallen between the window andthe shutter, a very large, and consequently very demonstrative, specimenof dialectical granite. He preserved it carefully, and mounted it ona handsome pedestal, inscribed with "The power of public opinion. "He placed it on the middle of his library mantelpiece, and the dailycontemplation of it cured him of his passion for Reform. During the restof his life he never talked, as he had used to do, of "the people":he always said "the rabble, " and delighted in quoting every passageof _Hudibras_ in which the rabble-rout is treated as he had come toconclude it ought to be. He made this piece of granite the nucleus ofmany political disquisitions. It is still in my possession, and I lookon it with veneration as my principal tutor, for it had certainly alarge share in the elements of my education. If, which does not seemlikely, another reform lunacy should arise in my time, I shall take careto close my shutters against "The power of public opinion. 1"

The Reverend Doctor Opimian being called on to contribute his share tothese diversions of rainy afternoons, said--

'The sort of prose lecture which I am accustomed to deliver would notbe exactly appropriate to the present time and place. I will thereforerecite to you some verses, which I made some time since, on whatappeared to me a striking specimen of absurdity on the part of theadvisers of royalty here--the bestowing the honours of knighthood, which is a purely Christian institution, on Jews and Paynim; very worthypersons in themselves, and entitled to any mark of respect befittingtheir class, but not to one strictly and exclusively Christian;money-lenders, too, of all callings the most anti-pathetic to that of atrue knight. The contrast impressed itself on me as I was reading apoem of the twelfth century, by Hues de Tabaret--_L'Ordène deChevalerie_--and I endeavoured to express the contrast in the manner andform following:--

 A NEW ORDER OF CHIVALRY

 Sir Moses, Sir Aaron, Sir Jamramajee, Two stock-jobbing Jews, and a shroffing Parsee, Have girt on the armour of old Chivalrie, And, instead of the Red Cross, have hoisted Balls Three. 

 Now fancy our Sovereign, so gracious and bland, With the sword of Saint George in her royal right hand, Instructing this trio of marvellous Knights In the mystical meanings of Chivalry's rites. 

 'You have come from the bath, all in milk-white array, To show you have washed worldly feelings away, And, pure as your vestments from secular stain, Renounce sordid passions and seekings for gain. 

 'This scarf of deep red o'er your vestments I throw, In token, that down them your life-blood shall flow, Ere Chivalry's honour, or Christendom's faith, Shall meet, through your failure, or peril or scaith. 

 'These slippers of silk, of the colour of earth, Are in sign of remembrance of whence you had birth; That from earth you have sprung, and to earth you return, But stand for the faith, life immortal to earn. 

 'This blow of the sword on your shoulder-blades true Is the mandate of homage, where homage is due, And the sign that your swords from the scabbard shall fly When "St George and the Right" is the rallying cry. 

 'This belt of white silk, which no speck has defaced, Is the sign of a bosom with purity graced, And binds you to prove, whatsoever betides, Of damsels distressed the friends, champions, and guides. 

 'These spurs of pure gold are the symbols which say, As your steeds obey them, you the Church shall obey, And speed at her bidding, through country and town, To strike, with your falchions, her enemies down. '

 II

 Now fancy these Knights, when the speech they have heard, As they stand, scarfed, shoed, shoulder-dubbed, belted and spurred, With the cross-handled sword duly sheathed on the thigh, Thus simply and candidly making reply:

 'By your Majesty's grace we have risen up Knights, But we feel little relish for frays and for fights: There are heroes enough, full of spirit and fire, Always ready to shoot and be shot at for hire. 

 'True, with bulls and with bears we have battled our cause; And the bulls have no horns, and the bears have no paws; And the mightiest blow which we ever have struck Has achieved but the glory of laming a duck. {1}

 1 In Stock Exchange slang, Bulls are speculators for a rise, Bears for a fall. A lame duck is a man who cannot pay his dififerences, and is said to waddle off. The patriotism of the money-market is well touched by Ponsard, in his comedy _La Bourse_: Acte iv. Scène 3--

 'With two nations in arms, friends impartial to both, To raise each a loan we shall be nothing loth; We will lend them the pay, to fit men for the fray; But shall keep ourselves carefully out of the way. 

 'We have small taste for championing maids in distress: For State we care little: for Church we care less: To Premium and Bonus our homage we plight: "Percentage!" we cry: and "A fig for the right!"

 ''Twixt Saint George and the Dragon we settle it thus: Which has scrip above par is the Hero for us: For a turn in the market, the Dragon's red gorge Shall have our free welcome to swallow Saint George. '

 Now, God save our Queen, and if aught should occur To peril the crown or the safety of her, God send that the leader, who faces the foe, May have more of King Richard than Moses and Co. 

 ALFRED Quand nous sommes vainqueurs, dire qu'on a baissé! Si nous étions battus, on aurait donc-haussé?

 DELATOUR On a craint qu'un succès, si brillant pour la France, De la paix qu'on rêvait n'éloignât l'espérance. 

 ALFRED Cette Bourse, morbleu! n'a donc rien dans le cour! Ventre affamé n'a point d'oreilles . .. Pour l'honneur! Aussi je ne veux plus jouer--qu'après ma noce-- Et j'attends Waterloo pour me mettre à la hausse. 

CHAPTER XIX

A SYMPOSIUM--TRANSATLANTIC TENDENCIES--AFTER-DINNER LECTURES--EDUCATION

 Trincq est ung mot panomphée, célébré et entendu de toutes nations, et nous signifie, beuuez. Et ici maintenons que non rire, ains boyre est le propre de l'homme. Je ne dy boyre simplement et absolument, car aussy bien boyvent les bestes; je dy boyre vin bon et fraiz. --Rabelais: 1. V. C. 45. 

Some guests remained. Some departed and returned. Among these was Mr. MacBorrowdale. One day after dinner, on one of his reappearances, LordCurryfin said to him--

'Well, Mr. MacBorrowdale, in your recent observations, have you foundanything likely to satisfy Jack of Dover, if he were prosecuting hisinquiry among us?'

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Troth, no, my lord. I think, if he were among us, he would give up the search as hopeless. He found it so in his own day, and he would find it still more so now. Jack was both merry and wise. We have less mirth in practice; and we have more wisdom in pretension, which Jack would not have admitted. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ He would have found it like Juvenal's search forpatriotic virtue, when Catiline was everywhere, and Brutus and Cato werenowhere. {1}

 1 Et Catilinam quocumque in populo videas, quocumque sub axe: sed nee Brutus erit, Bruti nec avunculus usquam. --Juv. Sat. Xiv. 41-43. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Well, among us, if Jack did not find his superior, or even his equal, he would not have been at a loss for company to hismind. There is enough mirth for those who choose to enjoy it, and wisdomtoo, perhaps as much as he would have cared for. We ought to have morewisdom, as we have clearly more science. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Science is one thing, and wisdom is another. Science is an edged tool, with which men play like children, and cuttheir own fingers. If you look at the results which science has broughtin its train, you will find them to consist almost wholly in elements ofmischief. See how much belongs to the word Explosion alone, of which theancients knew nothing. Explosions of powder-mills and powder-magazines;of coal-gas in mines and in houses; of high-pressure engines in shipsand boats and factories. See the complications and refinements of modesof destruction, in revolvers and rifles and shells and rockets andcannon. See collisions and wrecks and every mode of disaster by land andby sea, resulting chiefly from the insanity for speed, in those who forthe most part have nothing to do at the end of the race, which they runas if they were so many Mercuries speeding with messages from Jupiter. Look at our scientific drainage, which turns refuse into poison. Look atthe subsoil of London, whenever it is turned up to the air, converted bygas leakage into one mass of pestilent blackness, in which no vegetationcan flourish, and above which, with the rapid growth of the ever-growingnuisance, no living thing will breathe with impunity. Look at ourscientific machinery, which has destroyed domestic manufacture, whichhas substituted rottenness for strength in the thing made, and physicaldegradation in crowded towns for healthy and comfortable country lifein the makers. The day would fail, if I should attempt to enumerate theevils which science has inflicted on mankind. I almost think it is theultimate destiny of science to exterminate the human race. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ You have gone over a wide field, which we might exhausta good bin of claret in fully discussing. But surely the facilityof motion over the face of the earth and sea is both pleasant andprofitable. We may now see the world with little expenditure of labouror time. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ You may be whisked over it, but you do not seeit. You go from one great town to another, where manners and customsare not even now essentially different, and with this facility ofintercourse become progressively less and less so. The intermediatecountry--which you never see, unless there is a show mountain, orwaterfall, or ruin, for which there is a station, and to which you go asyou would to any other exhibition--the intermediate country containsall that is really worth seeing, to enable you to judge of the variouscharacteristics of men and the diversified objects of Nature. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ You can suspend your journey if you please, and see theintermediate country, if you prefer it. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ But who does prefer it? You travel round theworld by a hand-book, as you do round an exhibition-room by a catalogue. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Not to say that in the intermediate country you arepunished by bad inns and bad wine; of which I confess myself intolerant. I knew an unfortunate French tourist, who had made the round ofSwitzerland, and had but one expression for every stage of his journey:_Mauvaise auberge!_

_Lord Curryfin. _ Well, then, what say you to the electric telegraph, bywhich you converse at the distance of thousands of miles? Even acrossthe Atlantic, as no doubt we shall yet do. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Some of us have already heard the doctor's opinion on thatsubject. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I have no wish to expedite communication withthe Americans. If we could apply the power of electrical repulsion topreserve us from ever hearing anything more of them, I should think thatwe had for once derived a benefit from science. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Your love for the Americans, doctor, seems something likethat of Cicero's friend Marius for the Greeks. He would not take thenearest road to his villa, because it was called the Greek Road. {1}Perhaps if your nearest way home were called the American Road, youwould make a circuit to avoid it. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am happy to say I am not put to the test. Magnetism, galvanism, electricity, are 'one form of many names. '{2}Without magnetism we should never have discovered America; to which weare indebted for nothing but evil; diseases in the worst forms that canafflict humanity, and slavery in the worst form in which slavery cancast. The Old World had the sugar-cane and the cotton-plant, though itdid not so misuse them. Then, what good have we got from America? Whatgood of any kind, from the whole continent and its islands, from theEsquimaux to Patagonia?

 1 Non enim te puto Graecos ludos desiderare: praesertim quum Graecos ita non âmes, ut ne ad villain quidem tuam via Grasca ire soleas. --Cicero: Ep. Ad Div, vii. I. 

 2 (Greek phrase)--Æschylus: Prometheus. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Newfoundland salt-fish, doctor. 

The Rev. Dr. Opindan. That is something, but it does not turn the scale. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ If they have given us no good, we have given them none. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ We have given them wine and classicalliterature; but I am afraid Bacchus and Minerva have equally "Scatteredtheir bounty upon barren ground. "

On the other hand, we have given the red men rum, which has been thechief instrument of their perdition. On the whole, our intercourse withAmerica has been little else than an interchange of vices and diseases. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Do you count it nothing to have substituted civilisedfor savage men?

_The Rev, Dr. Opimian. _ Civilised. The word requires definition. Butlooking into futurity, it seems to me that the ultimate tendency of thechange is to substitute the worse for the better race; the Negro for theRed Indian. The Red Indian will not work for a master. No ill-usage willmake him. Herein he is the noblest specimen of humanity that ever walkedthe earth. Therefore, the white man exterminates his race. But the timewill come when by mere force of numbers the black race will predominate, and exterminate the white. And thus the worse race will be substitutedfor the better, even as it is in St. Domingo, where the Negro has takenthe place of the Caraib. The change is clearly for the worse. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ You imply that in the meantime the white race is betterthan the red. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I leave that as an open question. But I hold, as some have done before me, that the human mind degenerates in America, and that the superiority, such as it is, of the white race, is only keptup by intercourse with Europe. Look at the atrocities in their ships. Look at their Congress and their Courts of Justice; debaters in thefirst; suitors, even advocates, sometimes judges, in the second, settling their arguments with pistol and dagger. Look at theirextensions of slavery, and their revivals of the slave-trade, nowcovertly, soon to be openly. If it were possible that the two worldscould be absolutely dissevered for a century, I think a new Columbuswould find nothing in America but savages. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ You look at America, doctor, through your hatred ofslavery. You must remember that we introduced it when they were ourcolonists. It is not so easily got rid of. Its abolition by Franceexterminated the white race in St. Domingo, as the white race hadexterminated the red. Its abolition by England ruined our West Indiancolonies. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Yes, in conjunction with the directencouragement of foreign slave labour, given by our friends of libertyunder the pretext of free trade. It is a mockery to keep up a squadronfor suppressing the slave-trade on the one hand, while, on the otherhand, we encourage it to an extent that counteracts in a tenfolddegree the apparent power of suppression. It is a clear case of falsepretension. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ You know, doctor, the Old World had slavery throughout itsentire extent; under the Patriarchs, the Greeks, the Romans; everywherein short. Cicero thought our island not likely to produce anything worthhaving, excepting slaves;{1} and of those none skilled, as some slaveswere, in letters and music, but all utterly destitute of both. And inthe Old World the slaves were of the same race with the masters. TheNegroes are an inferior race, not fit, I am afraid, for anything else. 

 1 Etiam illud jam cognitum est, neque argenti scripulum esse ullum in ilia insula, neque ullam spem praedae, nisi ex mancipiis: ex quibus nullos puto te literis aut musicis eruditos expectare. --Cicero: ad Atticum, iv. 16. 

 A hope is expressed by Pomponius Mela, 1. Iii, c. 6 (he wrote under Claudius), that, by the success of the Roman arms, the island and its savage inhabitants would soon be better known. It is amusing enough to peruse such passages in the midst of London. --Gibbon: c. I. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Not fit, perhaps, for anything else belongingto what we call civilised life. Very fit to live on little, and wearnothing, in Africa; where it would have been a blessing to themselvesand the rest of the world if they had been left unmolested; if theyhad had a Friar Bacon to surround their entire continent with a wall ofbrass. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ I am not sure, doctor, that in many instances, even yet, the white slavery of our factories is not worse than the black slaveryof America. We have done much to amend it, and shall do more. Still, much remains to be done. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimiun. _ And will be done, I hope and believe. TheAmericans do nothing to amend their system. On the contrary, they do allthey can to make bad worse. Whatever excuse there may be for maintainingslavery where it exists, there can be none for extending it into newterritories; none for reviving the African slave-trade. These are thecrying sins of America. Our white slavery, so far as it goes, is so farworse, that it is the degradation of a better race. But if it be notredressed, as I trust it will be, it will work out its own retribution. And so it is of all the oppressions that are done under the sun. Thoughall men but the red men will work for a master, they will not fight foran oppressor in the day of his need. Thus gigantic empires have crumbledinto dust at the first touch of an invader's footstep. For petty, asfor great oppressions, there is a day of retribution growing out ofthemselves. It is often long in coming. _Ut sit magna, tamen eerie lenlaira Deoruni est. _{1} But it comes. 

 Raro anteccdentem scelestum Deseruit pede poena claudo. {2}

 1 The anger of the Gods, though great, is slow. 

 2 The foot of Punishment, though lame, O'ertakes at last preceding Wrong. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I will not say, doctor, 'I've seen, and sure I oughtto know. ' But I have been in America, and I have found there, what manyothers will testify, a very numerous class of persons who hold opinionsvery like your own: persons who altogether keep aloof from publiclife, because they consider it abandoned to the rabble; but who areas refined, as enlightened, as full of sympathy for all that tends tojustice and liberty, as any whom you may most approve amongst ourselves. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Of that I have no doubt But I look to publicacts and public men. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I should much like to know what Mr. MacBorrowdalethinks of all this. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Troth, my lord, I think we have strayed far awayfrom the good company we began with. We have lost sight of Jack ofDover. But the discussion had one bright feature. It did not interferewith, it rather promoted, the circulation of the bottle: for every manwho spoke pushed it on with as much energy as he spoke with, and thosewho were silent swallowed the wine and the opinion together, as if theyrelished them both. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ So far, discussion may find favour. In my ownexperience I have found it very absorbent of claret. But I do not thinkit otherwise an incongruity after dinner, provided it be carried on, as our disquisitions have always been, with frankness and good humour. Consider how much instruction has been conveyed to us in the form ofconversations at banquet, by Plato and Xenophon and Plutarch. I readnothing with more pleasure than their _Symposia_: to say nothing ofAthenaeus, whose work is one long banquet. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Nay, I do not object to conversation on anysubject. I object to after-dinner lectures. I have had some unfortunateexperiences. I have found what began in conversation end in a lecture. Ihave, on different occasions, met several men, who were in that respectall alike. Once started they never stopped. The rest of the goodcompany, or rather the rest which without them would have been goodcompany, was no company. No one could get in a word. They went on withone unvarying stream of monotonous desolating sound. This makes metremble when a discussion begins. I sit in fear of a lecture. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Well, you and I have lectured, but never after dinner. We do it when we have promised it, and when those who are present expectit. After dinner, I agree with you, it is the most doleful blight thatcan fall on human enjoyment. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I will give you one or two examples of thesepostprandial inflictions. One was a great Indian reformer. He did notopen his mouth till he had had about a bottle and a half of wine. Thenhe burst on us with a declamation on all that was wrong in India, and its remedy. He began in the Punjab, travelled to Calcutta, wentsouthward, got into the Temple of Juggernaut, went southward again, andafter holding forth for more than an hour, paused for a moment. The manwho sate next him attempted to speak: but the orator clapped him on thearm, and said: 'Excuse me: now I come to Madras. ' On which his neighbourjumped up and vanished. Another went on in the same way about currency. His first hour's talking carried him just through the Restriction Act ofninety-seven. As we had then more than half-a-century before us, I tookmy departure. But these were two whom topography and chronology wouldhave brought to a close. The bore of all bores was the third. Hissubject had no beginning, middle, nor end. It was education. Neverwas such a journey through the desert of mind: the Great Sahara ofintellect. The very recollection makes me thirsty. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ If all the nonsense which, in the last quarterof a century, has been talked on all other subjects were thrown into onescale, and all that has been talked on the subject of education alonewere thrown into the other, I think the latter would preponderate. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ We have had through the whole period some finespecimens of nonsense on other subjects: for instance, with a singleexception, political economy. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I understand your lordship's politeness asexcepting the present company. You need not except me. I am 'free toconfess, ' as they say 'in another place, ' that I have talked a greatdeal of nonsense on that subject myself. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Then, we have had latterly a mighty mass on thepurification of the Thames. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Allowing full weight to the two last-namedingredients, they are not more than a counterpoise to CompetitiveExamination, which is also a recent exotic belonging to education. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Patronage, it used to be alleged, considered only thefitness of the place for the man, not the fitness of the man for theplace. It was desirable to reverse this. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ True: but--

 'dum vitant stulli vitium, in contraria currunl. ' {1}

 1 When fools would from one vice take flight. They rush into its opposite. --Hor. Sal. I. 2, 24. 

Questions which can only be answered by the parrotings of a memorycrammed to disease with all sorts of heterogeneous diet can form no testof genius, taste, judgment, or natural capacity. Competitive Examinationtakes for its _norma_: 'It is better to learn many things ill thanone thing well'; or rather: 'It is better to learn to gabble abouteverything than to understand anything. ' This is not the way to discoverthe wood of which Mercuries are made. I have been told that thisprecious scheme has been borrowed from China: a pretty fountain-head formoral and political improvement: and if so, I may say, after Petronius:'This windy and monstrous loquacity has lately found its way to usfrom Asia, and like a pestilential star has blighted the minds of youthotherwise rising to greatness. '{1}

 1 Nuper ventosa isthaec et enormis loquacitas Athenas ex Asia commigravit, animosque juvenum, ad magna surgentes, veluti pestilenti quodam sidere afflavit. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ There is something to be said on behalf of applying thesame tests, addressing the same questions, to everybody. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I shall be glad to hear what can be said on thatbehalf. 

Lord Curryfin (after a pause). 'Mass, ' as the second grave-digger saysin _Hamlet_, 'I cannot tell. '

A chorus of laughter dissolved the sitting. 

CHAPTER XX

ALGERNON AND MORGANA--OPPORTUNITY AND REPENTANCE--THE FOREST IN WINTER

 Les violences qu'on se fait pour s'empêcher d'aimer sont souvent plus cruelles que les rigueurs de ce qu'on aime. --La Rochefoucauld. 

The winter set in early. December began with intense frost. Mr. Falconer, one afternoon, entering the inner drawing-room, found MissGryll alone. She was reading, and on the entrance of her visitor, laiddown her book. He hoped he had not interrupted her in an agreeableoccupation. 'To observe romantic method, ' we shall give what passedbetween them with the Christian names of the speakers. 

_Morgana. _ I am only reading what I have often read before, _OrlandoInnamorato_; and I was at the moment occupied with a passage aboutthe enchantress from whom my name was borrowed. You are aware thatenchantresses are in great favour here. 

_Algernon. _ Circe and Gryllus, and your name, sufficiently show that Andnot your name only, but----I should like to see the passage, and shouldbe still better pleased if you would read it to me. 

_Morgana. _ It is where Orlando, who had left Morgana sleeping by thefountain, returns to seek the enchanted key, by which alone he canliberate his friends. 

 Il Conte, che d' intrare havea gran voglia, Subitamente al fonte ritornava: Quivi trovô Morgana, che con gioglia Danzava intorno, e danzando cantava. Ne pui leggier si move al vento foglia Come ella sanza sosta si voltava, Mirando hora a la terra ed hora al sole; Ed al suo canto usa va tal parole:

 'Qualonque cerca al mondo haver thesoro, Over diletto, o segue onore e stato, Ponga la mano a questa chioma d' oro, Ch' io porto in fronte, e quel fara beato. Ma quando ha il destro a far cotal lavoro, Non prenda indugio, che 'l tempo passato Più non ritorna, e non si trova mai; Ed io mi volto, e lui lascio con guai. '

 Cosi cantava d' intorno girando La bella Fata a quella fresca fonte; Ma come gionto vide il Conte Orlando, Subitamente rivoltô la fronte: Il prato e la fontana abbandonando, Prese il viaggio suo verso d* un monte, Quai chiudea la Valletta picciolina: Quivi fuggendo Morgana cammina. {1}

 1 Bojardo: 1. Ii. C. 8. Ed. Vinegia; 1544. 

 With earnest wish to pass the enchanted gate, Orlando to the fount again advanced, And found Morgana, all with joy elate, Dancing around, and singing as she danced. As lightly moved and twirled the lovely Fate As to the breeze the lightest foliage glanced, With looks alternate to the earth and sky, She thus gave out her words of witchery:

 'Let him, who seeks unbounded wealth to hold, Or joy, or honour, or terrestrial state, Seize with his hand this lock of purest gold, That crowns my brow, and blest shall be his fate. But when time serves, behoves him to be bold, Nor even a moment's pause interpolate: The chance, once lost, he never finds again: I turn, and leave him to lament in vain. '

 Thus sang the lovely Fate in bowery shade Circling in joy around the crystal fount; But when within the solitary glade Glittered the armour of the approaching Count, She sprang upon her feet, as one dismayed, And took her way towards a lofty mount That rose the valley's narrow length to bound: Thither Morgana sped along the ground. 

 I have translated Fata, Fate. It is usually translated Fairy. But the idea differs essentially from ours of a fairy. Amongst other things there is no Fato, no Oberon to the Titania. It does not, indeed, correspond with our usual idea of Fate, but it is more easily distinguished as a class; for our old acquaintances the Fates are an inseparable three. The Italian _Fata_ is independent of her sisters. They are enchantresses; but they differ from other enchantresses in being immortal. They are beautiful, loo, and their beauty is immortal: always in Bojardo. He would not huvu turned Alcina into an old woman, as Arioslo did; which I must always consider a dreadful blemish on the many charms of the _Orlando Furioso_. 

_Algernon. _ I remember the passage well. The beautiful _Fata_, dancingand singing by the fountain, presents a delightful picture. 

_Morgana. _ Then, you know, Orlando, who had missed his opportunity ofseizing the golden forelock while she was sleeping, pursues her a longwhile in vain through rocky deserts, _La Penitenza_ following him with ascourge. The same idea was afterwards happily worked out by Machiavelliin his _Capitolo del Occasion_. 

_Algernon. _ You are fond of Italian literature? You read the languagebeautifully. I observe you have read from the original poem, and notfrom Bemi's _rifacciamento_. 

_Morgana. _ I prefer the original. It is more simple, and more inearnest. Bemi's playfulness is very pleasant, and his exordiums arecharming; and in many instances he has improved the poetry. Still, Ithink he has less than the original of what are to me the great charmsof poetry, truth and simplicity. Even the greater antiquity of style hasits peculiar appropriateness to the subject. And Bojardo seems to havemore faith in his narrative than Berni. I go on with him with readycredulity, where Berni's pleasantry interposes a doubt. 

_Algernon. _ You think that in narratives, however wild and romantic, thepoet should write as if he fully believed in the truth of his own story. 

_Morgana. _ I do; and I think so in reference to all narratives, not topoetry only. What a dry skeleton is the history of the early agesof Rome, told by one who believes nothing that the Romans believed!Religion pervades every step of the early Roman history; and in a greatdegree down at least to the Empire; but, because their religion isnot our religion, we pass over the supernatural part of the matter insilence, or advert to it in a spirit of contemptuous incredulity. We donot give it its proper place, nor present it in its proper colours, asa cause in the production of great effects. Therefore, I like to readLivy, and I do not like to read Niebuhr. 

_Algernon. _ May I ask if you read Latin?

_Morgana. _ I do; sufficiently to derive great pleasure from it. Perhaps, after this confession, you will not wonder that I am a spinster. 

_Algernon. _ So far, that I think it would tend to make you fastidiousin your choice. Not that you would be less sought by any who would beworthy your attention. For I am told you have had many suitors, and haverejected them all in succession. And have you not still many, andamong them one very devoted lover, who would bring you title as well asfortune? A very amiable person, too, though not without a comic side tohis character. 

_Morgana. _ I do not well know. He so far differs from all my precedingsuitors that in every one of them I found the presence of some qualitythat displeased me, or the absence of some which would have pleased me:the want, in the one way or the other, of that entire congeniality intaste and feeling which I think essential to happiness in marriage. Hehas so strong a desire of pleasing, and such power of acquisition andassimilation, that I think a woman truly attached to him might mouldhim to her mind. Still, I can scarcely tell why, he does not completemy idealities. They say, Love is his own avenger: and perhaps I shall bepunished by finding my idealities realised in one who will not care forme. 

_Algernon. _ I take that to be impossible. 

Morgana blushed, held down her head, and made no reply. Algernon lookedat her in silent admiration. A new light seemed to break in on him. Though he had had so many opportunities of forming a judgment on thepoint, it seemed to strike him for the first time with irresistibleconviction that he had never before heard such a sweet voice, nor seensuch an expressive and intelligent countenance. And in this way theycontinued like two figures in a _tableau vivant, _ till the entranceof other parties broke the spell which thus had fixed them in theirpositions. 

A few minutes more, and their destinies might have been irrevocablyfixed. But the interruption gave Mr. Falconer the opportunity ofreturning again to his Tower, to consider, in the presence of the sevensisters, whether he should not be in the position of a Roman, who wasreduced to the dilemma of migrating without his household deities, or ofsuffering his local deities to migrate without him; and whether he couldsit comfortably on either of the horns of this dilemma. He felt thathe could not. On the other hand, could he bear to see the fascinatingMorgana metamorphosed into Lady Curryfin? The time had been when he hadhalf wished it, as the means of restoring him to liberty. He feltnow that when in her society he could not bear the idea; but he stillthought that in the midst of his domestic deities he might becomereconciled to it. 

He did not care for horses, nor keep any for his own use. But as timeand weather were not always favourable to walking, he had provided forhimself a comfortable travelling-chariot, without a box to intercept theview, in which, with post-horses after the fashion of the olden time, heperformed occasional migrations. He found this vehicle of great use inmoving to and fro between the Grange and the Tower; for then, with allhis philosophy, Impatience was always his companion: Impatience on hisway to the Grange, to pass into the full attraction of the powerfulspell by which he was drawn like the fated ship to the magnetic rockin the _Arabian Nights_: Impatience on his way to the Tower, to findhimself again in the 'Regions mild of pure and serene air, ' in which theseven sisters seemed to dwell, like Milton's ethereal spirits 'Beforethe starry threshold of Jove's court. ' Here was everything to soothe, nothing to irritate or disturb him: nothing on the spot: but it waswith him, as it is with many, perhaps with all: the two great enemiesof tranquillity, Hope and Remembrance, would still intrude: not like abubble and a spectre, as in the beautiful lines of Coleridge:{1}

 Who late and lingering seeks thy shrine, On him but seldom, Power divine, Thy spirit rests. Satiety, And sloth, poor counterfeits of thee, Mock the tired worldling. Idle Hope, And dire Remembrance, interlope, And vex the feverish slumbers of the mind: The bubble floats before: the spectre stalks behind. --Coleridge's Ode to Tranquillity. 

for the remembrance of Morgana was not a spectre, and the hope of herlove, which he cherished in spite of himself, was not a bubble: buttheir forces were not less disturbing, even in the presence of hisearliest and most long and deeply cherished associations. 

He did not allow his impatience to require that the horses should beput to extraordinary speed. He found something tranquillising in themovement of a postilion in a smart jacket, vibrating on one horseupwards and downwards, with one invariable regulated motion like thecross-head of a side-lever steam-engine, and holding the whip quietlyarched over the neck of the other. The mechanical monotony of themovement seemed less in contrast than in harmony with the profoundstillness of the wintry forest: the leafless branches heavy with rimefrost and glittering in the sun: the deep repose of nature, broken nowand then by the traversing of deer, or the flight of wild birds: highestand loudest among them the long lines of rooks: but for the greater partof the way one long deep silence, undisturbed but by the rolling ofthe wheels and the iron tinkling of the hoofs on the frozen ground. Bydegrees he fell into a reverie, and meditated on his last dialogue with_Morgana. _

'It is a curious coincidence, ' he thought, 'that she should have beendwelling in a passage, in which her namesake enchantress inflictedpunishment on Orlando for having lost his opportunity. Did she associateMorgana with herself and Orlando with me? Did she intend a graceful hintto me not to lose _my_ opportunity? I seemed in a fair way to seize thegolden forelock, if we had not been interrupted. Do I regret that I didnot? That is just what I cannot determine. Yet it would be morefitting, that whatever I may do should be done calmly, deliberately, philosophically, than suddenly, passionately, impulsively. One thingis clear to me. It is now or never: this or none. The world doesnot contain a second Morgana, at least not of mortal race. Well: theopportunity will return. So far, I am not in the predicament in which weleft Orlando. I may yet ward off the scourge of _La Penitenza?_

But his arrival at home, and the sight of the seven sisters, who had allcome to the hall-door to greet him, turned his thoughts for awhile intoanother channel. 

He dined at his usual hour, and his two Hebes alternately filled hisglass with Madeira. After which the sisters played and sang to him inthe drawing-room; and when he had retired to his chamber, had looked onthe many portraitures of his Virgin Saint, and had thought by how manycharms of life he was surrounded, he composed himself to rest with thereflection: 'I am here like Rasselas in the Happy Valley: and I can nowfully appreciate the force of that beautiful chapter: _The wants of himwho wants nothing?_'

CHAPTER XXI

SKATING--PAS DE DEUX ON THE ICE--CONGENIALITY--FLINTS AMONG BONES

 Ubi lepos, joci, risus, ebrietas decent, Gratias, decor, hilaritas, atque delectatio, Qui quaerit alia his, malum videtur quaerere. --Plautus: In Pseudolo. 

 Where sport, mirth, wine, joy, grace, conspire to please, He seeks but ill who seeks aught else than these. 

The frost continued. The lake was covered over with solid ice. Thisbecame the chief scene of afternoon amusement, and Lord Curryfin carriedoff the honours of the skating. In the dead of the night there cameacross his memory a ridiculous stave:

 There's Mr. Tait, he cuts an eight, He cannot cut a nine:

and he determined on trying if he could not out-do Mr. Tait. 

[Illustration: Trying if he could not out-do Mr. Tait 187-157]

He thought it would be best to try his experiment without witnesses: andhaving more than an hour's daylight before breakfast, he devoted thatportion of the morning to his purpose. But cutting a nine by itselfbaffled his skill, and treated him to two or three tumbles, which, however, did not abate his ardour. At length he bethought him of cuttinga nine between two eights, and by shifting his feet rapidly at thepoints of difficulty, striking in and out of the nine to and fromthe eights on each side. In this he succeeded, and exhibiting hisachievement in the afternoon, adorned the surface of the ice withsuccessions of 898, till they amounted to as many sextillions, withtheir homogeneous sequences. He then enclosed the line with an oval, andreturned to the bank through an admiring circle, who, if they had beenas numerous as the spectators to the Olympic games, would have greetedhim with as loud shouts of triumph as saluted Epharmostus of Opus. {1}

Among the spectators on the bank were Miss Niphet and Mr. MacBorrowdale, standing side by side. While Lord Curryfin was cutting his sextillions, Mr. MacBorrowdale said: 'There is a young gentleman who is capable ofanything, and who would shine in any pursuit, if he would keep to it. He shines as it is, in almost everything he takes in hand in privatesociety: there is genius even in his failures, as in the case of thetheatrical vases; but the world is a field of strong competition, andaffords eminence to few in any sphere of exertion, and to those fewrarely but in one. '

_Miss Niphet. _ Before I knew him, I never heard of him but as a lectureron Fish; and to that he seems to limit his public ambition. In privatelife, his chief aim seems to be that of pleasing his company. Of course, you do not attach much value to his present pursuit. You see no utilityin it. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ On the contrary, I see great utility in it. I amfor a healthy mind in a healthy body: the first can scarcely be withoutthe last, and the last can scarcely be without good exercise in pureair. In this way, there is nothing better than skating. I should be veryglad to cut eights and nines with his lordship: but the only figure Ishould tut would be that of as many feet as would measure my own lengthon the ice. 

Lord Curryfin, on his return to land, thought it his duty first toaccost Miss Gryll, who was looking on by the side of Miss Ilex. 

 He asked her if she ever skated. She answered in thenegative. 'I have tried it, ' she said, 'but unsuccessfully. I admire itextremely, and regret my inability to participate in it. ' He then wentup to Miss Niphet, and asked her the same question. She answered: 'Ihave skated often in our grounds at home. ' 'Then why not now?' he asked. She answered: 'I have never done it before so many witnesses. ' 'Butwhat is the objection?' he asked. 'None that I know of, ' she answered. 'Then, ' he said, 'as I have done or left undone some things to pleaseyou, will you do this one thing to please me?'

 1 (Greek phrase)--PIND. Olymp. Ix. With what a clamour he passed through the circle. 

'Certainly, ' she replied: adding to herself: 'I will do anything in mypower to please you. '

[Illustration: She was an Atalanta on ice as on turf 191-161]

She equipped herself expeditiously, and started before he was wellaware. She was half round the lake before he came up with her. She thentook a second start, and completed the circle before he came up withher again. He saw that she was an Atalanta on ice as on turf. He placedhimself by her side, slipped her arm through his, and they startedtogether on a second round, which they completed arm-in-arm. By thistime the blush-rose bloom which had so charmed him on a former occasionagain mantled on her cheeks, though from a different cause, for itwas now only the glow of healthful exercise; but he could not helpexclaiming, 'I now see why and with what tints the Athenians colouredtheir statues. '

'Is it clear, ' she asked, 'that they did so?'

'I have doubted it before, ' he answered, 'but I am now certain that theydid. '

In the meantime, Miss Gryll, Miss Ilex, and the Reverend Doctor Opimianhad been watching their movements from the bank. 

_Miss Ilex. _ I have seen much graceful motion in dancing, in privatesociety and on the Italian stage; and some in skating before to-day; butanything so graceful as that double-gliding over the ice by those tworemarkably handsome young persons, I certainly never saw before. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Lord Curryfin is unquestionably handsome, and Miss Niphet, especially with that glow on her cheeks, is as beautiful a young womanas imagination can paint. They move as if impelled by a single will. Itis impossible not to admire them both. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ They remind me of the mythological fiction, thatJupiter made men and women in pairs, like the Siamese twins; but in thisway they grew so powerful and presumptuous, that he cut them in two; andnow the main business of each half is to look for the other; which isvery rarely found, and hence so few marriages are happy. Here the twotrue halves seem to have met. 

The doctor looked at Miss Gryll, to see what impression this remarkmight make on her. He concluded that, if she thought seriously of LordCurryfin, she would show some symptom of jealousy of Miss Niphet; butshe did not. She merely said--

'I quite agree with you, doctor. There is evidently great congenialitybetween them, even in their respective touches of eccentricity. '

But the doctor's remark had suggested to her what she herself had failedto observe; Lord Curryfin's subsidence from ardour into deference, inhis pursuit of herself. She had been so undividedly 'the cynosure ofneighbouring eyes, ' that she could scarcely believe in the possibilityof even temporary eclipse. Her first impulse was to resign him toher young friend. But then appearances might be deceitful. Her ownindifference might have turned his attentions into another channel, without his heart being turned with them. She had seen nothing to showthat Miss Niphet's feelings were deeply engaged in the question. She wasnot a coquette; but she would still feel it as a mortification that herhitherto unquestioned supremacy should be passing from her. She had feltall along that there was one cause which would lead her to a decidedrejection of _Lord Curryfin. _ But her Orlando had not seized the goldenforelock; perhaps he never would. After having seemed on the point ofdoing so, he had disappeared, and not returned. He was now again withinthe links of the sevenfold chain, which had bound him from his earliestdays. She herself, too, had had, perhaps had still, the chance of thegolden forelock in another quarter. Might she not subject her after-lifeto repentance, if her first hope should fail her when the second hadbeen irrevocably thrown away? The more she contemplated the sacrifice, the greater it appeared. Possibly doubt had given preponderance to herthoughts of Mr. Falconer; and certainly had caused them to repose in thecase of Lord Curryfin; but when doubt was thrown into the latterscale also, the balance became more even. She would still give him hisliberty, if she believed that he wished it; for then her pride wouldsettle the question; but she must have more conclusive evidence onthe point than the Reverend Doctor's metaphorical deduction from amythological fiction. 

In the evening, while the party in the drawing-room were amusingthemselves in various ways, Mr. MacBorrowdale laid a drawing on thetable, and said, 'Doctor, what should you take that to represent?'

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ An unformed lump of I know not what. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Not unformed. It is a flint formation of a verypeculiar kind. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Very peculiar, certainly. Who on earth can haveamused himself with drawing a misshapen flint? There must be some riddlein it; some ænigma, as insoluble to me as _Aelia Laelia Crispis_. {1}

 1 This ænigma has been the subject of many learned disquisitions. The reader who is unacquainted with it may find it under the article 'ænigma' in the _Encyclopedia Britannica_; and probably in every other encyclopaedia. 

Lord Curryfin, and others of the party, were successively asked theiropinions. One of the young ladies guessed it to be the petrifactionof an antediluvian mussel. Lord Curryfin said petrifactions were oftensiliceous, but never pure silex; which this purported to be. It gave himthe idea of an ass's head; which, however, could not by any process havebeen turned into flint. 

Conjecture being exhausted, Mr. MacBorrowdale said, 'It is a thingthey call a Celt. The ass's head is somewhat germane to the matter. TheArtium Societatis Syndicus Et Socii have determined that it is a weaponof war, evidently of human manufacture. It has been found, with manyothers like it, among bones of mammoths and other extinct animals, andis therefore held to prove that men and mammoths were contemporaries. '

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ A weapon of war? Had it a handle? Is there ahole for a handle?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ That does not appear. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ These flints, and no other traces of men, amongthe bones of mammoths?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ None whatever. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ What do the Artium Societatis Syndicus Et Sociisuppose to have become of the men who produced these demonstrations ofhigh aboriginal art?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ They think these finished specimens of skill in theart of chipping prove that the human race is of greater antiquity thanhas been previously supposed; and the fact that there is no other relicto prove the position they consider of no moment whatever. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Ha! ha! ha! This beats the Elephant in theMoon, {1} which turned out to be a mouse in a telescope. But I can helpthem to an explanation of what became of these primaeval men-of-arms. They were an ethereal race, and evaporated. 

 1 See Butler's poem, with that title, in his _Miscellaneous Works_. 

CHAPTER XXII

THE SEVEN AGAINST THEBES--A SOLILOQUY ON CHRISTMAS

 Over the mountains, And over the waves; Under the fountains, And under the graves; Under floods that are deepest, Which Neptune obey; Over rocks that are steepest, Love will find out the way. --Old Song in Percy's Reliques. 

Harry Hedgerow had volunteered to be Mr. Falconer's Mercury duringhis absences from the Tower, and to convey to him letters and anycommunications which the sisters might have to make. Riding at a goodtrot, on a horse more distinguished for strength than grace, he foundthe shortest days long enough for the purpose of going and returning, with an ample interval for the refreshment of himself and his horse. 

[Illustration: Mr. Falconer's Mercury 197-167]

While discussing beef and ale in the servants' hall, he heard a gooddeal of the family news, and many comments on the visitors. Fromthese he collected that there were several young gentlemen especiallyremarkable for their attention to the young lady of the mansion: thatamong them were two who were more in her good graces than the others:that one of these was the young gentleman who lived in the Duke's Folly, and who was evidently the favourite: and that the other was a younglord, who was the life and soul of the company, but who seemed to bevery much taken with another young lady, who had, at the risk of her ownlife, jumped into the water and picked him out, when he was nearly beingdrowned. 

[Illustration: He heard a good deal of the family news 200-167]

This story had lost nothing in travelling. Harry, deducing from all thisthe conclusion most favourable to his own wishes, determined to takesome steps for the advancement of his own love-suit, especially ashe had obtained some allies, who were willing to march with him toconquest, like the Seven against Thebes. 

The Reverend Doctor Opimian had finished his breakfast, and had just satdown in his library, when he was informed that some young men wishedto see him. The doctor was always accessible, and the visitors wereintroduced. He recognised his friend Harry Hedgerow, who was accompaniedby six others. After respectful salutations on their part, andbenevolent acceptance on his, Harry, as the only one previously known tothe doctor, became spokesman for the deputation. 

__Harry Hedgerow. __ You see, sir, you gave me some comfort when I wasbreaking my heart; and now we are told that the young gentleman at theFolly is going to be married. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Indeed! you are better informed than I am. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Why, it's in everybody's mouth. He passes half histime at Squire Gryll's, and they say it's all for the sake of the younglady that's there: she that was some days at the Folly; that I carriedin, when she was hurt in the great storm. I am sure I hope it be true. For you said, if he married, and suitable parties proposed for hersisters, Miss Dorothy might listen to me. I have lived in the hope ofthat ever since. And here are six suitable parties to propose for hersix sisters. That is the long and the short of it. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ The short of it, at any rate. You speak likea Spartan. You come to the point at once. But why do you come to me? Ihave no control over the fair damsels. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Why, no, sir; but you are the greatest friend of theyoung gentleman. And if you could just say a word for us to him, yousee, sir. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I see seven notes in the key of A minor, proposing to sound in harmony with the seven notes of the octave above;but I really do not see what I can do in the matter. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Indeed, sir, if you could only ask the young gentlemanif he would object to our proposing to the young ladies. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Why not propose to them yourselves? You seem tobe all creditable young men. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ I have proposed to Miss Dorothy, you know, and shewould not have me; and the rest are afraid. We are all something to dowith the land and the wood; farmers, and foresters, and nurserymen, andall that. And we have all opened our hearts to one another. They don'tpretend to look above us; but it seems somehow as if they did, andcouldn't help it They are so like young ladies. They daze us, like. Why, if they'd have us, they'd be all in reach of one another. Fancy what afamily party there'd be at Christmas. We just want a good friend toput a good foot foremost for us; and if the young gentleman does marry, perhaps they may better themselves by doing likewise. 

[Illustration: Six partners for six sisters 204-171]

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And so you seven young friends have each adifferent favourite among the seven sisters?

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Why, that's the beauty of it. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ The beauty of it? Perhaps it is. I suppose thereis an agistor {1} among you?

 1 An agistor was a forest officer who superintended the taking in of strange cattle to board and lodge, and accounted for the profit to the sovereign. I have read the word, but never heard it. I am inclined to think that in modern times the duty was carried on under another name, or merged in the duties of another office. 

_Harry Hedgerow. (after looking at his companions who all shook theirheads)_. I am afraid not. Ought there to be? We don't know what itmeans. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I thought that among so many foresters theremight be an agistor. But it is not indispensable. Well, if the younggentleman is going to be married, he will tell me of it. And when hedoes tell me, I will tell him of you. Have patience. It may all comeright. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Thank ye, sir. Thank ye, sir, kindly. 

Which being echoed in chorus by the other six, they took theirdeparture, much marvelling what the reverend doctor could mean by anagistor. 

'Upon my word, ' said the doctor to himself, 'a very good-looking, respectable set of young men. I do not know what the others may have tosay for themselves. They behaved like a Greek chorus. They left theirshare of the dialogue to the coryphaeus. He acquitted himself well, morelike a Spartan than an Athenian, but none the worse for that. Brevity, in this case, is better than rhetoric. I really like that youth. How hisimagination dwells on the family party at Christmas. When I first sawhim, he was fancying how the presence of Miss Dorothy would gladden hisfather's heart at that season. Now he enlarges the circle, but it isstill the same predominant idea. He has lost his mother. She must havebeen a good woman, and his early home must have been a happy one. TheChristmas hearth would not be so uppermost in his thoughts if it hadbeen otherwise. This speaks well for him and his. I myself think much ofChristmas and all its associations. I always dine at home on ChristmasDay, and measure the steps of my children's heads on the wall, and seehow much higher each of them has risen since the same time last year, in the scale of physical life. There are many poetical charms in theheraldings of Christmas. The halcyon builds its nest on the tranquilsea. "The bird of dawning singeth all night long. " I have never verifiedeither of these poetical facts. I am willing to take them for granted. I like the idea of the Yule-log, the enormous block of wood carefullyselected long before, and preserved where it would be thoroughly dry, which burned on the old-fashioned hearth. It would not suit the stovesof our modem saloons. We could not burn it in our kitchens, where asmall fire in the midst of a mats of black iron, roasts, and bakes, and boils, and steams, and broils, and fries, by a complicated apparatuswhich, whatever may be its other virtues, leaves no space for aChristmas fire. I like the festoons of holly on the walls and windows;the dance under the mistletoe; the gigantic sausage; the baron of beef;the vast globe of plum-pudding, the true image of the earth, flattenedat the poles; the tapping of the old October; the inexhaustible bowlof punch; the life and joy of the old hall, when the squire and hishousehold and his neighbourhood were as one. I like the idea of what hasgone, and I can still enjoy the reality of what remains. I have no doubtHarry's father bums the Yule-log, and taps the old October. Perhaps, instead of the beef, he produces a fat pig roasted «hole, like Eumaeus, the divine swineherd in the _Odyssey_. How Harry will burn the Yule-logif he can realise this day-dream of himself and his six friends withthe seven sisters! I shall make myself acquainted with the position andcharacters of these young suitors. To be sure, it is not my business, and I ought to recollect the words of Cicero: "Est enim difficilis curarerum alienarum: quamquam Terentianus ille Chrêmes humani nihil a sealienum putat. "{1} I hold with. Chrêmes too. I am not without hope, fromsome symptoms I have lately seen, that rumour, in the present case, isin a fair way of being right; and if, with the accordance of the younggentleman as key-note, these two heptachords should harmonise into adouble octave, I do not see why I may not take my part as fundamentalbass. '

 1 It is a hard matter to take active concern in the affairs of others; although the Chrêmes of Terence thinks nothing human alien to himself. --De Officiis: i. 9. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE TWO QUADRILLES--POPE'S OMBRE--POETICAL TRUTH TO NATURE--CLEOPATRA

 (Greek passage) Alexis: Tarantini. 

 As men who leave their homes for public games, We leave our native element of darkness For life's brief light. And who has most of mirth, And wine, and love, may, like a satisfied guest, Return, contented, to the night he sprang from. 

In the meantime Mr. Falconer, after staying somewhat longer than usualat home, had returned to the Grange. He found much the same party as hehad left: but he observed, or imagined, that Lord Curryfin was much morethan previously in favour with Miss Gryll; that she paid him more markedattention, and watched his conduct to Miss Niphet with something morethan curiosity. 

Amongst the winter evenings' amusements were two forms of quadrille: theold-fashioned game of cards, and the more recently fashionable dance. Onthese occasions it was of course a carpet-dance. Now, dancing had neverbeen in Mr. Falconer's line, and though modern dancing, especially inquadrilles, is little more than walking, still in that 'little more'there is ample room for grace and elegance of motion. 

Herein Lord Curryfin outshone all the other young men in the circle. Heendeavoured to be as indiscriminating as possible in inviting partners:but it was plain to curious observation, especially if a spice ofjealousy mingled with the curiosity, that his favourite partner was MissNiphet. When they occasionally danced a polka, the reverend doctor'smythological theory came out in full force. It seemed as if Nature hadpreordained that they should be inseparable, and the interior convictionof both, that so it ought to be, gave them an accordance of movementthat seemed to emanate from the innermost mind. Sometimes, too, theydanced the _Minuet de la Cour_. 

[Illustration: Minuet de la Cour 009-177]

Having once done it, they had been often unanimously requested to repeatit. In this they had no competitors. Miss Gryll confined herself toquadrilles, and Mr. Falconer did not even propose to walk through onewith her. When dancing brought into Miss Nipher/s cheeks the blush-rosebloom, which had more than once before so charmed Lord Curryfin, itrequired little penetration to see, through his external decorum, thepassionate admiration with which he regarded her. Mr. Falconer remarkedit, and, looking round to Miss Gryll, thought he saw the trace of a tearin her eye. It was a questionable glistening: jealousy construed itinto a tear. But why should it be there? Was her mind turning to LordCurryfin? and the more readily because of a newly-perceived obstacle?Had mortified vanity any share in it? No: this was beneath _Morgana. _Then why was it there? Was it anything like regret that, in respectof the young lord, she too had lost her opportunity? Was he himselfblameless in the matter? He had been on the point of declaration, andshe had been apparently on the point of acceptance: and instead offollowing up his advantage, he had been absent longer than usual. Thiswas ill; but in the midst of the contending forces which severally actedon him, how could he make it well? So he sate still, tormenting himself. 

In the meantime, Mr. Gryll had got up at a card-table, in the outer, which was the smaller drawing-room, a quadrille party of his own, consisting of himself, Miss Ilex, the Reverend Dr. Opimian, and _Mr. MacBorrowdale. _

_Mr. Gryll. _ This is the only game of cards that ever pleased me. Onceit was the great evening charm of the whole nation. Now, when cards areplayed at all, it has given place to whist, which, in my younger days, was considered a dry, solemn, studious game, played in moody silence, only interrupted by an occasional outbreak of dogmatism and ill-humour. Quadrille is not so absorbing but that we may talk and laugh over it, and yet is quite as interesting as anything of the kind has need to be. 

_Miss Ilex. _ I delight in quadrille. I am old enough to remember when, in mixed society in the country, it was played every evening by some ofthe party. But _Chaque âge a ses plaisirs, son esprit, et ses mours. _{1}It is one of the evils of growing old that we do not easily habituateourselves to changes of custom. The old, who sit still while the youngdance and sing, may be permitted to regret the once always accessiblecards, which, in their own young days, delighted the old of thatgeneration: and not the old only. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ There are many causes for the diminishedattraction of cards in evening society. Late dinners leave littleevening. The old time for cards was the interval between tea and supper. Now there is no such interval, except here and there in out-of-the-wayplaces, where, perhaps, quadrille and supper may still flourish, as inthe days of Queen Anne. Nothing was more common in country towns andvillages, half-a-century ago, than parties meeting in succession at eachother's houses for tea, supper, and quadrille. How popular this game hadbeen, you may judge from Gay's ballad, which represents all classes asabsorbed in quadrille. {2} Then the facility of locomotion dissipates, annihilates neighbourhood. 

 1 Boileau. 

 2 For example:

 When patients lie in piteous case, In comes the apothecary, And to the doctor cries 'Alas!

 _Non debes Quadrilare_. ' The patient dies without a pill: For why? The doctor's at quadrille. 

 Should France and Spain again grow loud, The Muscovite grow louder, Britain, to curb her neighbours proud, Would want both ball and powder; Must want both sword and gun to kill; For why? The general's at quadrille. 

People are not now the fixtures they used to be in their respectivelocalities, finding their amusements within their own limited circle. Half the inhabitants of a country place are here to-day and goneto-morrow. Even of those who are more what they call settled, thegreater portion is less, probably, at home than whisking about theworld. Then, again, where cards are played at all, whist is moreconsentaneous to modern solemnity: there is more wiseacre-ism about it:in the same manner that this other sort of quadrille, in which peoplewalk to and from one another with faces of exemplary gravity, has takenthe place of the old-fashioned country-dance. 'The merry dance, I dearlylove' would never suggest the idea of a quadrille, any more than 'merryEngland' would call up any image not drawn from ancient ballads and theold English drama. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Well, doctor, I intend to have a ball at Christmas, inwhich all modes of dancing shall have fair play, but country-dancesshall have their full share. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I rejoice in the prospect. I shall be glad tosee the young dancing as if they were young. 

_Miss Ilex. _ The variety of the game called tredrille--the Ombre ofPope's _Rape of the Lock_--is a pleasant game for three. Pope hadmany opportunities of seeing it played, yet he has not described itcorrectly; and I do not know that this has been observed. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Indeed, I never observed it. I shall be glad toknow how it is so. 

_Miss Ilex. _ Quadrille is played with forty cards: tredrille usuallywith thirty: sometimes, as in Pope's Ombre, with twenty-seven. In fortycards, the number of trumps is eleven in the black suits, twelve in thered:{1} in thirty, nine in all suits alike. {2} In twenty-seven, theycannot be more than nine in one suit, and eight in the other three. InPope's Ombre spades are trumps, and the number is eleven: the numberwhich they would be if the cards were forty. If you follow hisdescription carefully, you will find it to be so. 

 1 Nine cards in the black, and ten in the red suits, in addition to the aces of spades and clubs, Spadille and Basto, which are trumps in all suits. 

 2 Seven cards in each of the four suits in addition to Spadille and Basto. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Why, then, we can only say, as a great philosophersaid on another occasion: The description is sufficient 'to impose onthe degree of attention with which poetry is read. '

_Miss Ilex. _ It is a pity it should be so. Truth to Nature is essentialto poetry. Few may perceive an inaccuracy: but to those who do, itcauses a great diminution, if not a total destruction, of pleasurein perusal. Shakespeare never makes a flower blossom out of season. Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey are true to Nature in this and in allother respects: even in their wildest imaginings. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Yet here is a combination by one of our greatestpoets, of flowers that never blossom in the same season--

 Bring the rathe primrose, that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansie freakt with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine, With cowslips wan, that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears: Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffodillies fill their cups with tears, To deck the lauréat hearse where Lycid lies. 

And at the same time he plucks the berries of the myrtle and the ivy. 

_Miss Ilex. _ Very beautiful, if not true to English seasons: but Miltonmight have thought himself justified in making this combination inArcadia. Generally, he is strictly accurate, to a degree that is initself a beauty. For instance, in his address to the nightingale--

 Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among, I woo to hear thy even-song, And missing thee, I walk unseen, On the dry smooth-shaven green. 

The song of the nightingale ceases about the time that the grass ismown. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ The old Greek poetry is always true to Nature, and will bear any degree of critical analysis. I must say I take nopleasure in poetry that will not. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ No poet is truer to Nature than Burns, and noone less so than Moore. His imagery is almost always false. Here is ahighly-applauded stanza, and very taking at first sight--

 The night-dew of heaven, though in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with verdure the sod where he sleeps; And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls. 

But it will not bear analysis. The dew is the cause of the verdure: butthe tear is not the cause of the memory: the memory is the cause of thetear. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ There are inaccuracies more offensive to me thaneven false imagery. Here is one, in a song which I have often heard withdispleasure. A young man goes up a mountain, and as he goes higher andhigher, he repeats _Excelsior_: but _excelsior_ is only taller in thecomparison of things on a common basis, not higher, as a detached objectin the air. Jack's bean-stalk was _excelsior_ the higher it grew: butJack himself was no more _celsus_ at the top than he had been at thebottom. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I am afraid, doctor, if you look for profoundknowledge in popular poetry, you will often be disappointed. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I do not look for profound knowledge. But I doexpect that poets should understand what they talk of. Burns was not ascholar, but he was always master of his subject. All the scholarship ofthe world would not have produced _Tarn o' Shanter_: but in the wholeof that poem there is not a false image nor a misused word. What do yousuppose these lines represent?

 I turning saw, throned on a flowery rise, One sitting on a crimson scarf unrolled: A queen, with swarthy cheeks and bold black eyes, Brow-bound with burning gold. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ I should take it to be a description of the Queenof Bambo. 

The Rev. Dr, Opimian, Yet thus one of our most popular poets describesCleopatra: and one of our most popular artists has illustrated thedescription by a portrait of a hideous grinning Æthiop. Moore led theway to this perversion by demonstrating that the Ægyptian women musthave been beautiful, because they were 'the countrywomen of Cleopatra. '{1} 'Here we have a sort of counter-demonstration, that Cleopatra musthave been a fright because she was the countrywoman of the Ægyptians. But Cleopatra was a Greek, the daughter of Ptolemy Auletes, and a ladyof Pontus. The Ptolemies were Greeks, and whoever will look at theirgenealogy, their coins, and their medals, will see how carefully theykept their pure Greek blood uncontaminated by African intermixture. Think of this description and this picture applied to one who Dio says--and all antiquity confirms him--was 'the most superlatively beautifulof women, splendid to see, and delightful to hear. '{2} For she waseminently accomplished: she spoke many languages with grace andfacility. Her mind was as wonderful as her personal beauty. There is nota shadow of intellectual expression in that horrible portrait. 

 1 Dc Pauw, the great depreciator of everything Ægyptian, has, on the authority of a passage in Aelian, presumed to affix to the countrywomen of Cleopatra the stigma of complete and unredeemed ugliness. --Moore's _Epicurean_, fifth note. 

 2 (Greek phrase)--Dio, . Vlii. 34. 

The conversation at the quadrille-table was carried on with occasionalpauses, and intermingled with the technicalities of the game. 

Miss Gryll continued to alternate between joining in thequadrille-dances and resuming her seat by the side of the room, whereshe was the object of great attention from some young gentlemen, who were glad to find her unattended by either Lord Curryfin or _Mr. Falconer. _ Mr. Falconer continued to sit as if he had been fixed tohis seat, like Theseus. The more he reflected on his conduct, indisappearing at that critical point of time and staying away so long, the more he felt that he had been guilty of an unjustifiable, andperhaps unpardonable offence. He noticed with extreme discomposure theswarm of moths, as he called them to himself, who were fluttering in thelight of her beauty: he would gladly have put them to flight; and thisbeing out of the question, he would have been contented to take hisplace among them; but he dared not try the experiment. 

[Illustration: Moths fluttering in the light of her beauty 214-182]

Nevertheless, he would have been graciously received. The young lady wasnot cherishing any feeling of resentment against him. She understood, and made generous allowance for, his divided feelings. But hisirresolution, if he were left to himself, was likely to be of longduration: and she meditated within herself the means of forcing him to aconclusion one way or the other. 

CHAPTER XXIV

PROGRESS OF SYMPATHY--LOVE'S INJUNCTIONS--ORLANDO INNAMORATO

 (Greek passage) Anacreon. 

 See, youth, the nymph who charms your eyes; Watch, lest you lose the willing prize. As queen of flowers the rose you own, And her of maids the rose alone. 

While light, fire, mirth, and music were enlivening the party within theclose-drawn curtains, without were moonless night and thickly-fallingsnow; and the morning opened on one vast expanse of white, mantlingalike the lawns and the trees, and weighing down the wide-spreadingbranches. Lord Curryfin, determined not to be baulked of his skating, sallied forth immediately after breakfast, collected a body oflabourers, and swept clear an ample surface of ice, a path to it fromthe house, and a promenade on the bank. Here he and Miss Niphet amusedthemselves in the afternoon, in company with a small number of theparty, and in the presence of about the usual number of spectators. Mr. Falconer was there, and contented himself with looking on. 

Lord Curryfin proposed a reel, Miss Niphet acquiesced, but it was longbefore they found a third. At length one young gentleman, of the plumpand rotund order, volunteered to supply the deficiency, and was soondeposited on the ice, where his partners in the ice-dance would havetumbled over him if they had not anticipated the result, and given him awide berth. One or two others followed, exhibiting several varieties inthe art of falling ungracefully. At last the lord and the lady skatedaway on as large a circuit as the cleared ice permitted, and as theywent he said to her--

'If you were the prize of skating, as Atalanta was of running, I shouldhave good hope to carry you off against all competitors but yourself. '

She answered, 'Do not disturb my thoughts, or I shall slip. '

He said no more, but the words left their impression. They gave him asmuch encouragement as, under their peculiar circumstances, he could dareto wish for, or she could venture to intimate. 

Mr. Falconer admired their 'poetry of motion' as much as all the othershad done. It suggested a remark which he would have liked to addressto Miss Gryll, but he looked round for her in vain. He returned to thehouse in the hope that he might find her alone, and take the opportunityof making his peace. 

He found her alone, but it seemed that he had no peace to make. Shereceived him with a smile, and held out her hand to him, which hegrasped fervently. He fancied that it trembled, but her features werecomposed. He then sat down at the table, on which the old edition ofBojardo was lying open as before. He said, 'You have not been down tothe lake to see that wonderful skating. ' She answered, 'I have seenit every day but this. The snow deters me to-day. But it is wonderful. Grace and skill can scarcely go beyond it. '

He wanted to apologise for the mode and duration of his departure andabsence, but did not know how to begin. She gave him the occasion. Shesaid, 'You have been longer absent than usual--from our rehearsals. But we are all tolerably perfect in our parts. But your absence wasremarked--by some of the party. You seemed to be especially missedby _Lord Curryfin. _ He asked the reverend doctor every morning if hethought you would return that day. '

_Algernon. _ And what said the doctor?

_Morgana. _ He usually said, 'I hope so. ' But one morning he saidsomething more specific. 

_Algernon. _ What was it?

_Morgana. _ I do not know that I ought to tell you. 

_Algernon. _ Oh, pray do. 

_Morgana. _ He said, 'The chances are against it. ' 'What are the odds?'said _Lord Curryfin. _ 'Seven to one, ' said the doctor. 'It ought not tobe so, ' said Lord Curryfin, 'for here is a whole Greek chorus againstseven vestals. ' The doctor said, 'I do not estimate the chances by themere balance of numbers. '

_Algernon. _ He might have said more as to the balance of numbers. 

_Morgana. _ He might have said more, that the seven outweighed the one. 

_Algernon. _ He could not have said that

_Morgana. _ It would be much for the one to say that the balance waseven. 

_Algernon. _ But how if the absentee himself had been weighed againstanother in that one's own balance?

_Morgana. _ One to one promises at least more even weight

_Algernon. _ I would not have it so. Pray, forgive me. 

_Morgana. _ Forgive you? For what?

_Algernon. _ I wish to say, and I do not well know how, without seemingto assume what I have no right to assume, and then I must have doublecause to ask your forgiveness. 

_Morgana. _ Shall I imagine what you wish to say, and say it for you?

_Algernon. _ You would relieve me infinitely, if you imagine justly. 

_Morgana. _ You may begin by saying with Achilles, My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred; And I myself see not the bottom of it. {1}

 1 Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 3. 

_Algernon. _ I think I do see it more clearly. 

_Morgana. _ You may next say, I live an enchanted life. I have been indanger of breaking the spell; it has once more bound me with sevenfoldforce; I was in danger of yielding to another attraction; I went a steptoo far in all but declaring it; I do not know how to make a decentretreat. 

_Algernon. _ Oh! no, no; nothing like that. 

_Morgana. _ Then there is a third thing you may say; but before Isay that for you, you must promise to make no reply, not even amonosyllable; and not to revert to the subject for four times sevendays. You hesitate. 

_Algernon. _ It seems as if my fate were trembling in the balance. 

Morgana, You must give me the promise I have asked for. 

_Algernon. _ I do give it. 

_Morgana. _ Repeat it then, word for word. 

_Algernon. _ To listen to you in silence; not to say a syllable in reply;not to return to the subject for four times seven days. 

_Morgana. _ Then you may say, I have fallen in love; veryirrationally--(_he was about to exclaim, but she placed her finger onher lips_)--very irrationally; but I cannot help it. I fear I must yieldto my destiny. I will try to free myself from all obstacles; I will, ifI can, offer my hand where I have given my heart. And this I will do, ifI ever do, at the end of four times seven days: if not then, never. 

She placed her finger on her lips again, and immediately left theroom, having first pointed to a passage in the open pages of _OrlandoInnamorato_. She was gone before he was aware that she was going; but heturned to the book, and read the indicated passage. It was a part ofthe continuation of Orlando's adventure in the enchanted garden, when, himself pursued and scourged by _La Penitenza_, he was pursuing the FataMorgana over rugged rocks and through briery thickets. 

 Cosi diceva. Con molta rovina Sempre seguia Morgana il cavalliero: Fiacca ogni bronco ed ogni mala spina, Lasciando dietro a se largo il sentiero: Ed a la Fata molto s' avicina E già d' averla presa è il suo pensiero: Ma quel pensiero è ben fallace e vano, Pera che presa anchor scappa di mano. 

 O quante volte gli dette di piglio, Hora ne' panni ed hor nella persona: Ma il vestimento, ch* è bianco e vermiglio, Ne la speranza presto 1' abbandona: Pur una fiata rivoltando il ciglio, Come Dio volse e la ventura buona, Volgendo il viso quella Fata al Conte El ben la prese al zuffo ne la fronte. 

 Allor cangiosse il tempo, e l' aria scura Divenne chiara, e il ciel tutto sereno, E aspro monte si fece pianura; E dove prima fa di spine pteno, Se coperse de fiori e de verdura: E Uagedar dell' altra veni La qual, con miglior viio che non mole, Verso del Conte usava tel parole. Attend, cavalliero, a quella ctitama. .. . {1}

 1 Bojardo, _Orlando Innamarato_, L ii. C. 9. Ed. Di Vinegia; 1544. 

 So spake Repentance. With the speed of fire Orlando followed where the enchantress fled, Rending and scattering tree and bush and brier, And leaving wide the vestige of his tread. Nearer he drew, with feet that could not tire, And strong in hope to seise her as she sped. How vain the hope! Her form he seemed to clasp, But soon as seized, she vanished from his grasp. 

 How many times he laid his eager hand On her bright form, or on her vesture fair; But her white robes, and their vermilion band, Deceived his touch, and passed away like air. But once, as with a half-turned glance she scanned Her foe--Heaven's will and happy chance were there-- No breath for pausing might the time allow-- He seized the golden forelock of her brow. 

 Then passed the gloom and tempest from the sky; The air at once grew calm and all serene; And where rude thorns had clothed the mountain high, Was spread a plain, all flowers and vernal green. Repentance ceased her scourge. Still standing nigh, With placid looks, in her but rarely seen, She said: 'Beware how yet the prize you lose; The key of fortune few can wisely use. '

 In the last stanza of the preceding translation, the seventh line is the essence of the stanza immediately following; the eighth is from a passage several stanzas forward, after Orlando has obtained the key, which was the object of his search:

 Che mal se trova alcun sotto la Luna, Ch' adopri ben la chiave di Fortuna. 

 The first two books of Bojardo's poem were published in 1486. The first complete edition was published in 1495. 

 The Venetian edition of 1544, from which I have cited this passage, and the preceding one in chapter xx. , is the fifteenth and last complete Italian edition. The original work was superseded by the _Rifacciamenti_ of Berni and Domenichi. Mr. Panizzi has rendered a great service to literature in reprinting the original. He collated all accessible editions. _Verum opere in longo fas est obrepere somnum_. He took for his standard, . .. As I think unfortunately, the Milanese edition of 1539. With all the care he bestowed on his task, he overlooked one fearful perversion in the concluding stanza, which in all editions but the Milanese reads thus: Mentre ch' io canto, ahimè Dio redentore. .. 

He was recalled to himself by sinking up to his shoulders of a hollow. 

'She must have anticipated my coming, ' said the young gentleman tohimself. 'She had opened the book at this passage, and has left it tosay to me for her--Choose between love and repentance. Four times sevendays! That is to ensure calm for the Christmas holidays. The term willpass over Twelfth Night. The lovers of old romance were subjected to aprobation of seven years:--

 Seven long years I served thee, fair one, Seven long years my fee was scorn. 

'But here, perhaps, the case is reversed. She may have feared aprobation of seven years for herself; and not without reason. And whathave I to expect if I let the four times seven days pass by? Why, then, I can read in her looks--and they are interpreted in the versesbefore me--I am assigned to repentance, without the hope of a thirdopportunity. She is not without a leaning towards Lord Curryfin. 

 Veggio 1' Italia tutta a fiamma e a foco, Per questi Galli, che con gran furore Vengon per disertar non so che loco. Perô vi lascio in questo vano amore Di Fiordespina ardente a poco a poco: Un' altra fiata, se mi fia concesso, Racconterovi il tutto per espresso. 

 Even while I sing, ah me, redeeming Heaven! I see all Italy in fire and flame, Raised by these Gauls, who, by great fury driven, Come with destruction for their end and aim. The maiden's heart, by vainest passion riven, Not now the rudely-broken song may claim; Some future day, if Fate auspicious prove, Shall end the tale of Fiordespina's love. 

 The Milanese edition of 1539 was a reprint of that of 1513, in which year the French, under Louis XII. , had reconquered Milan. The Milanese editions read valore for furore. 

 It was no doubt in deference to the conquerors that the printer of 1513 made this substitution; but it utterly perverts the whole force of the passage. The French, under Charles VIII. , invaded Italy in September 1494, and the horror with which their devastations inspired Bojardo not only stopped the progress of his poem, but brought his life prematurely to a close. He died in December 1494. The alteration of this single word changes almost into a compliment an expression of cordial detestation. 

She thinks he is passing from her, and on the twenty-ninth day, orperhaps in the meantime, she will try to regain him. Of course she willsucceed. What rivalry could stand against her? If her power over him islessened, it is that she has not chosen to exert it She has but to willit, and he is again her slave. Twenty-eight days! twenty-eight days ofdoubt and distraction. ' And starting up, he walked out into the park, not choosing the swept path, but wading knee-deep in snow where it laythickest in the glades. He was recalled to himself by sinking up to hisshoulders in a hollow. He emerged with some difficulty, and retraced hissteps to the house, thinking that, even in the midst of love's most direperplexities, dry clothes and a good fire are better than a hole in thesnow. 

[Illustration: sinking up to his shoulders in a hollow 225-196]

CHAPTER XXV

HARRY AND DOROTHY

 (Greek passage) Humerus in Odyssea. 

 The youthful suitors, playing each his part, Stirred pleasing tumult in each fair one's heart. --Adapted--not translated. 

Harry Hedgerow had found means on several occasions of delivering farmand forest produce at the Tower, to introduce his six friends to thesisters, giving all the young men in turn to understand that they mustnot think of Miss Dorothy; an injunction which, in the ordinary perversecourse of events, might have led them all to think of no one else, andproduced a complication very disagreeable for their introducer. Itwas not so, however. 'The beauty of it, ' as Harry said to the reverenddoctor, was that each had found a distinct favourite among the sevenvestals. They had not, however, gone beyond giving pretty intelligiblehints. They had not decidedly ventured to declare or propose. They leftit to Harry to prosecute his suit to Miss Dorothy, purposing to step inon the rear of his success. They had severally the satisfaction of beingassured by various handsome young gipsies, whose hands they had crossedwith lucky shillings, that each of them was in love with a fair youngwoman, who was quite as much in love with him, and whom he wouldcertainly marry before twelve months were over. And they went on theirway rejoicing. 

Now Harry was indefatigable in his suit, which he had unbounded libertyto plead; for Dorothy always listened to him complacently, thoughwithout departing from the answer she had originally given, that she andher sisters would not part with each other and their young master. 

The sisters had not attached much importance to Mr. Falconer's absences;for on every occasion of his return the predominant feeling he hadseemed to express was that of extreme delight at being once more athome. 

One day, while Mr. Falconer was at the Grange, receiving admonition from_Orlando Innamorato_, Harry, having the pleasure to find Dorothy alone, pressed his suit as usual, was listened to as usual, and seemed likelyto terminate without being more advanced than usual, except in so faras they both found a progressive pleasure, she in listening, and he inbeing listened to. There was to both a growing charm in thus 'dallyingwith the innocence of love, ' and though she always said No with herlips, he began to read Yes in her eyes. 

_Harry. _ Well, but, Miss Dorothy, though you and your sisters will notleave your young master, suppose somebody should take him away from you, what would you say then?

_Dorothy. _ What do you mean, Master Harry?

_Harry. _ Why, suppose he should get married, Miss Dorothy?

_Dorothy. _ Married!

_Harry. _ How should you like to see a fine lady in the Tower, looking atyou as much as to say, This is mine?

_Dorothy. _ I will tell you very candidly, I should not like it at all. But what makes you think of such a thing?

_Harry. _ You know where he is now?

_Dorothy. _ At Squire Gryll's, rehearsing a play for Christmas. 

_Harry. _ And Squire Gryll's niece is a great beauty, and a greatfortune. 

_Dorothy. _ Squire Gryll's niece was here, and my sisters and myselfsaw a great deal of her. She is a very nice young lady; but he has seengreat beauties and great fortunes before; he has always been indifferentto the beauties, and he does not care about fortune. I am sure he wouldnot like to change his mode of life. 

_Harry. _ Ah, Miss Dorothy! you don't know what it is to fall in love. Ittears a man up by the roots, like a gale of wind. 

_Dorothy. _ Is that your case, Master Harry?

_Harry. _ Indeed it is, Miss Dorothy. If you didn't speak kindly to me, Ido not know what would become of me. But you always speak kindly to me, though you won't have me. 

_Dorothy. _ I never said won't, Master _Harry. _

_Harry. _ No, but you always say can't, and that's the same as won't, solong as you don't. 

_Dorothy. _ You are a very good young man, Master _Harry. _ Everybodyspeaks well of you. And I am really pleased to think you are so partialto me. And if my young master and my sisters were married, and I weredisposed to follow their example, I will tell you very truly, you arethe only person I should think of, Master Harry. 

Master Harry attempted to speak, but he felt choked in the attempt atutterance; and in default of words, he threw himself on his knees beforehis beloved, and clasped his hands together with a look of passionateimploring, which was rewarded by a benevolent smile. And they did notchange their attitude till the entrance of one of the sisters startledthem from their sympathetic reverie. 

[Illustration: Encouraged his six allies to carry on the siege 243-203]

Harry having thus made a successful impression on one of the Thebangates, encouraged his six allies to carry on the siege of the others;for which they had ample opportunity, as the absences of the younggentleman became longer, and the rumours of an attachment between himand Miss Gryll obtained more ready belief. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

DOUBTS AND QUESTIONS

 (Greek passage) AlCÆUS. 

 Bacchis! ''Tis vain to brood on care, Since grief no remedy supplies; Be ours the sparkling bowl to share, And drown our sorrows as they rise. 

Mr. Falconer saw no more of Miss Gryll till the party assembled in thedrawing-rooms. She necessarily took the arm of Lord Curryfin for dinner, and it fell to the lot of Mr. Falconer to offer his to Miss Niphet, sothat they sat at remote ends of the table, each wishing himself in theother's place; but Lord Curryfin paid all possible attention to his fairneighbour. Mr. Falconer could see that Miss Gryll's conversation withLord Curryfin was very animated and joyous: too merry, perhaps, forlove: but cordial to a degree that alarmed him. It was, however, clear by the general mirth at the head of the table, that nothing veryconfidential or sentimental was passing. Still, a young lady who hadplaced the destiny of her life on a point of brief suspense ought not tobe so merry as Miss Gryll evidently was. He said little to Miss Niphet;and she, with her habit of originating nothing, sat in her normal stateof statue-like placidity, listening to the conversation near her. Shewas on the left hand of _Mr. Gryll. _ Miss Ilex was on his right, andon her right was the Reverend Doctor Opimian. These three kept up ananimated dialogue. Mr. MacBorrowdale was in the middle of the table, andamused his two immediate fair neighbours with remarks appertaining tothe matter immediately before them, the preparation and arrangement of agood dinner: remarks that would have done honour to Francatelli. 

After a while, Mr. Falconer bethought him that he would try to draw out_Miss Niphet. _'s opinion on the subject nearest his heart. He said toher: 'They are very merry at the head of the table. '

_Miss Niphet. _. I suppose Lord Curryfin is in the vein for amusing hiscompany, and he generally succeeds in his social purposes. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ You lay stress on social, as if you thought him notsuccessful in all his purposes. 

_Miss Niphet. _ Not in all his inventions, for example. But in thepromotion of social enjoyment he has few equals. Of course, it must bein congenial society. There is a power of being pleased, as well as apower of pleasing. With Miss Gryll and Lord Curryfin, both meet in both. No wonder that they amuse those around them. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ In whom there must also be a power of being pleased. 

_Miss Niphet. _. Most of the guests here have it. If they had not theywould scarcely be here. I have seen some dismal persons, any one ofwhom would be a kill-joy to a whole company. There are none such in thisparty. I have also seen a whole company all willing to be pleased, butall mute from not knowing what to say to each other: not knowing how tobegin. Lord Curryfin would be a blessing to such a party. He would bethe steel to their flint. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Have you known him long?

_Miss Niphet. _. Only since I met him here. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Have you heard that he is a suitor to Miss Gryll?

_Miss Niphet. _. I have heard so. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Should you include the probability of his being acceptedin your estimate of his social successes?

_Miss Niphet. _. Love affairs are under influences too capricious for thecalculation of probabilities. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Yet I should be very glad to hear your opinion. You knowthem both so well. 

_Miss Niphet. _ I am disposed to indulge you, because I think it is notmere curiosity that makes you ask the question, Otherwise I should notbe inclined to answer it, I do not think he will ever be the affiancedlover of _Morgana. _ Perhaps he might have been if he had persevered ashe began. But he has been used to smiling audiences. He did not find theexact reciprocity he looked for. He fancied that it was, or would be, for another, I believe he was right. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Yet you think he might have succeeded if he hadpersevered. 

_Miss Niphet. _ I can scarcely think otherwise, seeing how much he has torecommend him. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ But he has not withdrawn. 

Miss Nipket. No, and will not. But she is too high-minded to hold himto a proposal not followed up as it commenced even if she had not turnedher thoughts elsewhere. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Do you not think she could recall him to his firstardour if she exerted all her fascinations for the purpose?

_Miss Nipket. _ It may be so. I do not think she will try. (_She added, to herself_:) I do not think she would succeed. 

Mr. Falconer did not feel sure she would not try: he thought he sawsymptoms of her already doing so. In his opinion Morgana was, and mustbe, irresistible. But as he had thought his fair neighbour somewhatinterested in the subject, he wondered at the apparent impassivenesswith which she replied to his questions. 

In the meantime he found, as he had often done before, that the more hismind was troubled, the more Madeira he could drink without disorderinghis head. 

CHAPTER XXVII

LOVE IN MEMORY

 Il faut avoir aimé une fois en sa vie, non pour le moment où l'on aime, car on n'éprouve alors que des tourmens, des regrets, de la jalousie: mais peu à peu ces tourmens-là deviennent des souvenirs, qui charment notre arrière saison:. .. Et quand vous verrez la vieillesse douce, facile et tolérante, vous pourrez dire comme Fontenelle: L'amour a passé par-la. --Scribe: La Vieille. 

Miss Gryll carefully avoided being alone with Mr. Falconer, in order notto give him an opportunity of speaking on the forbidden subject. She wasconfident that she had taken the only course which promised to relieveher from a life of intolerable suspense; but she wished to subject herconduct to dispassionate opinion, and she thought she could not submitit to a more calmly-judging person than her old spinster friend, MissIlex, who had, moreover, the great advantage of being a woman of theworld. She therefore took an early opportunity of telling her what hadpassed between herself and Mr. Falconer, and asking her judgment on thepoint. 

_Miss Ilex. _ Why, my dear, if I thought there had been the slightestchance of his ever knowing his own mind sufficiently to come to thedesired conclusion himself, I should have advised your giving him alittle longer time; but as it is clear to me that he never would havedone so, and as you are decidedly partial to him, I think you have takenthe best course which was open to you. He had all but declared to youmore than once before; but this 'all but' would have continued, and youwould have sacrificed your life to him for nothing. 

_Miss Gryll. _ But do you think you would in my case have done as I did?

_Miss Ilex. _ No, my dear, I certainly should not; for, in a casevery similar, I did not. It does not follow that I was right. On thecontrary, I think you are right, and I was wrong. You have shown truemoral courage where it was most needed. 

_Miss Gryll. _ 1 hope I have not revived any displeasing recollections. 

_Miss Ilex. _ No, my dear, no; the recollections are not displeasing. The day-dreams of youth, however fallacious, are a composite of pain andpleasure: for the sake of the latter the former is endured, nay, evencherished in memory. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Hearing what I hear you were, seeing what I see you are, observing your invariable cheerfulness, I should not have thought itpossible that you could have been crossed in love, as your words seem toimply. 

_Miss Ilex. _ I was, my dear, and have been foolish enough to be constantall my life to a single idea; and yet I would not part with this shadowfor any attainable reality. 

[Illustration: Constant all my life to a single idea 250-208]

_Miss Gryll. _ If it were not opening the fountain of an ancient sorrow, I could wish to know the story, not from idle curiosity, but from myinterest in you. 

_Miss Ilex. _ Indeed, my dear Morgana, it is very little of a story: butsuch as it is, I am willing to tell it you. I had the credit of beinghandsome and accomplished. I had several lovers; but my inner thoughtsdistinguished only one; and he, I think, had a decided preference forme, but it was a preference of present impression. If some Genius hadcommanded him to choose a wife from any company of which I was one, hewould, I feel sure, have chosen me; but he was very much of an universallover, and was always overcome by the smiles of present beauty. Hewas of a romantic turn of mind: he disliked and avoided the ordinarypursuits of young men: he delighted in the society of accomplished youngwomen, and in that alone. It was the single link between him and theworld. He would disappear for weeks at a time, wandering in forests, climbing mountains, and descending into the dingles of mountain-streams, with no other companion than a Newfoundland dog; a large black dog, with a white breast, four white paws, and a white tip to his tail: abeautiful affectionate dog: I often patted him on the head, and fed himwith my hand. He knew me as well as Bajardo{1} knew Angelica. 

 1 Rinaldo's horse: he had escaped from his master, and had revelled Sacripante with his heels:--

Tears started into her eyes at the recollection of the dog. She pausedfor a moment. 

_Miss Gryll. _ I see the remembrance is painful Do not proceed. 

_Miss Ilex. _ No, my dear. I would not, if I could, forget that dog. Well, my young gentleman, as I have said, was a sort of universal lover, and made a sort of half-declaration to half the young women he knew:sincerely for the moment to all: but with more permanent earnestness, more constant return, to me than to any other. If I had met him withequal earnestness, if I could have said or implied to him in any way, 'Take me while you may, or think of me no more, ' I am persuaded I shouldnot now write myself spinster. But I wrapped myself up in reserve. Ithought it fitting that all advances should come from him: that Ishould at most show nothing more than willingness to hear, not even thesemblance of anxiety to receive them. So nothing came of our love butremembrance and regret. Another girl, whom I am sure he loved less, butwho understood him better, acted towards him as I ought to have done, and became his wife. Therefore, my dear, I applaud your moral courage, and regret that I had it not when the occasion required it. 

_Miss Gryll. _ My lover, if I may so call him, differs from yours inthis: that he is not wandering in his habits, nor versatile in hisaffections. 

_Miss Ilex. _ The peculiar system of domestic affection in which hewas brought up, and which his maturer years have confirmed, presents agreater obstacle to you than any which my lover's versatility presentedto me, if I had known how to deal with it. 

_Miss Gryll. _ But how was it, that, having so many admirers as you musthave had, you still remained single?

_Miss Ilex. _ Because I had fixed my heart on one who was not like anyone else. If he had been one of a class, such as most persons in thisworld are, I might have replaced the first idea by another; but his soulwas like a star, and dwelt apart. 

 . .. . Indi va mansueto alia donzella, Con umile sembiante e gesto umano: Come intorno al padrone il can saltella, Che sia due giorni o tre stato lontano. Bajardo ancora avea memoria d' ella, Che in Albracca il servia già di sua mano. --Orlando Furioso, c. I. S. 75. 

_Miss Gryll. _ A very erratic star, apparently. A comet, rather. 

_Miss Ilex. _ No, For the qualities which he loved and admired in theobject of his temporary affection existed more in his imagination thanin her. She was only the framework of the picture of his fancy. Hewas true to his idea, though not to the exterior semblance on whichhe appended it, and to or from which he so readily transferred it. Unhappily for myself, he was more of a reality to me than I was to him. 

_Miss Gryll. _ His marriage could scarcely have been a happy one. Did youever meet him again?

_Miss Ilex. _ Not of late years, but for a time occasionally in generalsociety, which he very sparingly entered. Our intercourse was friendly;but he never knew, never imagined, how well I loved him, nor even, perhaps, that I had loved him at all. I had kept my secret only too wellHe retained his wandering habits, disappearing from time to time, butalways returning home, I believe he had no cause to complain of hiswife. Yet I cannot help thinking that I could have fixed him and kepthim at home. Your case is in many respects similar to mine; but therivalry to me was in a wandering fancy: to you it is in fixed domesticaffections. Still, you were in as much danger as I was of being thevictim of an idea and a punctilio: and you have taken the only course tosave you from it. I regret that I gave in to the punctilio: but Iwould not part with the idea. I find a charm in the recollection farpreferable to

 The waveless calm, the slumber of the dead which weighs on the minds of those who have never loved, or never earnestly. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

ARISTOPHANES IN LONDON

 Non duco contentionis funern, dum constet inter nos, quod fere totus mundus exerceat histrioniam. --Petronius Arbiter. 

 I do not draw the rope of contention, {1} while it is agreed amongst us, that almost the whole world practises acting. 

 1 A metaphor apparently taken from persons pulling in opposite directions at each end of a rope. I cannot see, as some have done, that it has anything in common with Horace's _Tortum digna sequi potius quant ducere funern_: 'More worthy to follow than to lead the tightened cord': which is a metaphor taken from a towing line, or any line acting in a similar manner, where one draws and another is drawn. Horace applies it to money, which he says should be the slave, and not the master of its possessor. 

 All the world's a stage. --Shakespeare. 

 En el teatro del mundo Todos son représentantes. --Calderon. 

 Tous les comédiens ne sont pas au théâtre. --_French Proverb. _

Rain came, and thaw, followed by drying wind. The roads were in goodorder for the visitors to the Aristophanic comedy. The fifth day ofChristmas was fixed for the performance. The theatre was brilliantlylighted, with spermaceti candles in glass chandeliers for the audience, and argand lamps for the stage. In addition to Mr. Gryll's own housefulof company, the beauty and fashion of the surrounding country, whichcomprised an extensive circle, adorned the semicircular seats; which, however, were not mere stone benches, but were backed, armed, and paddedinto comfortable stalls. Lord Curryfin was in his glory, in the capacityof stage-manager. 

The curtain rising, as there was no necessity for its being made tofall, {1} discovered the scene, which was on the London bank of theThames, on the terrace of a mansion occupied by the Spirit-rappingSociety, with an archway in the centre of the building, showing a streetin the background. Gryllus was lying asleep. Circe, standing over him, began the dialogue. 

 1 The Athenian theatre was open to the sky, and if the curtain had been made to fall it would have been folded up in mid air, destroying the effect of the scene. Being raised from below, it was invisible when not in use. 

 CIRCE Wake, Gryllus, and arise in human form. 

 GRYLLUS I have slept soundly, and had pleasant dreams. 

 CIRCE I, too, have soundly slept--Divine how long. 

 GRYLLUS Why, judging by the sun, some fourteen hours. 

 CIRCE Three thousand years»

 GRYLLUS That is a nap indeed. But this is not your garden, nor your palace. Where are we now?

 CIRCE Three thousand years ago, This land was forest, and a bright pure river Ran through it to and from the Ocean stream. Now, through a wilderness of human forms, And human dwellings, a polluted flood Rolls up and down, charged with all earthly poisons, Poisoning the air in turn. 

 GRYLLUS I see vast masses Of strange unnatural things. 

 CIRCE Houses, and ships, And boats, and chimneys vomiting black smoke, Horses, and carriages of every form, And restless bipeds, rushing here and there For profit or for pleasure, as they phrase it. 

 GRYLLUS Oh, Jupiter and Bacchus! what a crowd, Flitting, like shadows without mind or purpose, Such as Ulysses saw in Erebus. But wherefore are we here?

 CIRCE There have arisen Some mighty masters of the invisible world, And these have summoned us. 

 GRYLLUS With what design?

 CIRCE That they themselves must tell. Behold they come, Carrying a mystic table, around which They work their magic spells. Stand by, and mark. 

 [Three spirit-rappers appeared, carrying a table, which they placed on one side of the stage:]

 1. Carefully the table place, Let our gifted brother trace A ring around the enchanted space

 2. Let him tow'rd the table point With his first fore-finger joint, And with mesmerised beginning Set the sentient oak-slab spinning. 

 3. Now it spins around, around, Sending forth a murmuring sound, By the initiate understood

 As of spirits in the wood. 

 ALL. Once more Circe we invoke. 

 CIRCE Here: not bound in ribs of oak, Nor, from wooden disk revolving, In strange sounds strange riddles solving, But in native form appearing, Plain to sight, as clear to heating. 

 THE THREE Thee with wonder we behold. By thy hair of burning gold, By thy face with radiance bright, By thine eyes of beaming light, We confess thee, mighty one, For the daughter of the Sun. On thy form we gaze appalled. 

 CIRCE Cryllus, loo, your summons called. 

 THE THREE Hira of yore thy powerful spell Doomed in swinish shape to dwell; Vet such life he reckoned then Happier than the life of men, Now, when carefully he ponders All our scientific wonders, Steam-driven myriads, all in motion, On the land and on the ocean, Going, for the sake of going, Wheresoever waves are flowing, Wheresoever winds are blowing; Converse through the sea transmitted, Swift as ever thought has flitted; All the glories of our time, Past the praise of loftiest rhyme; Will he, seeing these, indeed, Still retain his ancient creed, Ranking, in his mental plan, Life of beast o'er life of man?

 CIRCE Speak, Gryllus. 

 GRYLLUS It is early yet to judge: But all the novelties I yet have seen Seem changes for the worse. 

 THE THREE If we could show him Our triumphs in succession, one by one, 'Twould surely change his judgment: and herein How might'st thou aid us, Circe!

 CIRCE I will do so: And calling down, like Socrates, of yore, The clouds to aid us, they shall shadow forth, In bright succession, all that they behold, From air, on earth and sea. I wave my wand: And lo! they come, even as they came in Athens, Shining like virgins of ethereal life. 

 The Chorus of Clouds descended, and a dazzling array of female beauty was revealed by degrees through folds of misty gauze. They sang their first choral song:

 CHORUS OF CLOUDS{1}

 Clouds ever-flowing, conspicuously soaring, From loud-rolling Ocean, whose stream{2} gave us birth To heights, whence we look over torrents down-pouring To the deep quiet vales of the fruit-giving earth, -- As the broad eye of Æther, unwearied in brightness, Dissolves our mist-veil in glittering rays, Our forms we reveal from its vapoury lightness, In semblance immortal, with far-seeing gaze. 

 1 The first stanza is pretty closely adapted from the strophe of Aristophanes. The second is only a distant imitation of the antistrophe. 

 2 In Homer, and all the older poets, the ocean is a river surrounding the earth, and the seas are inlets from it. 

 Shower-bearing Virgins, we seek not the regions Whence Pallas, the Muses, and Bacchus have fled, But the city, where Commerce embodies her legions, And Mammon exalts his omnipotent head. 

 All joys of thought, feeling, and taste are before us, Wherever the beams of his favour are warm:

 Though transient full oft as the veil of our chorus, Now golden with glory, now passing in storm. 

Reformers, scientific, moral, educational, political, passed insuccession, each answering a question of Gryllus. Gryllus observed, thatso far from everything being better than it had been, it seemed thateverything was wrong and wanted mending. The chorus sang its secondsong. 

Seven competitive examiners entered with another table, and sat downon the opposite side of the stage to the spirit-rappers. They broughtforward Hermogenes{1} as a crammed fowl to argue with Gryllus. Gryllushad the best of the argument; but the examiners adjudged the victory toHermogenes. The chorus sang its third song. 

 1 See chapter xv. 

Circe, at the request of the spirit-rappers, whose power was limitedto the production of sound, called up several visible spirits, allillustrious in their day, but all appearing as in the days of theirearly youth, 'before their renown was around them. ' They were allsubjected to competitive examination, and were severally pronounceddisqualified for the pursuit in which they had shone. At last came onewhom Circe recommended to the examiners as a particularly promisingyouth. He was a candidate for military life. Every question relativeto his profession he answered to the purpose. To every question not sorelevant he replied that he did not know and did not care. This drew onhim a reprimand. He was pronounced disqualified, and ordered to join therejected, who were ranged in a line along the back of the scene. A touchof Circe's wand changed them into their semblance of maturer years. Among them were Hannibal and Oliver Cromwell; and in the foregroundwas the last candidate, Richard Coeur-de-Lion. Richard flourished hisbattle-axe over the heads of the examiners, who jumped up in greattrepidation, overturned their table, tumbled over one another, andescaped as best they might in haste and terror. The heroes vanished. Thechorus sang its fourth song. 

 CHORUS As before the pike will fly Dace and roach and such small fry; As the leaf before the gale, As the chaff beneath the flail; As before the wolf the flocks, As before the hounds the fox; As before the cat the mouse, As the rat from falling house; As the fiend before the spell Of holy water, book, and bell; As the ghost from dawning day, -- So has fled, in gaunt dismay, This septemvirate of quacks From the shadowy attacks Of Coeur-de-Lion's battle-axe. 

 [Illustration: Coeur-de-Lion's battle-axe. 260-221]

 Could he in corporeal might, Plain to feeling as to sight, Rise again to solar light, How his arm would put to flight All the forms of Stygian night That round us rise in grim array, Darkening the meridian day: Bigotry, whose chief employ Is embittering earthly joy; Chaos, throned in pedant state, Teaching echo how to prate; And 'Ignorance, with looks profound, ' Not 'with eye that loves the ground, ' But stalking wide, with lofty crest, In science's pretentious vest. 

 And now, great masters of the realms of shade, To end the task which called us down from air, We shall present, in pictured show arrayed, Of this your modern world the triumphs rare, That Gryllus's benighted spirit May wake to your transcendent merit, And, with profoundest admiration thrilled, He may with willing mind assume his place In your steam-nursed, steam-borne, steam-killed, And gas-enlightened race. 

 CIRCE Speak, Gryllus, what you see, I see the ocean, And o'er its face ships passing wide and far; Some with expanded sails before the breeze, And some with neither sails nor oars, impelled By some invisible power against the wind, Scattering the spray before them, But of many One is on fire, and one has struck on rocks And melted in the waves like fallen snow. Two crash together in the middle sea, And go to pieces on the instant, leaving No soul to tell the tale, and one is hurled In fragments to the sky, strewing the deep With death and wreck. I had rather live with Circe Even as I was, than flit about the world In those enchanted ships which some Alastor Must have devised as traps for mortal ruin. 

 Look yet again. 

 Now the whole scene is changed. I see long chains of strange machines on wheels, With one in front of each, purring white smoke From a black hollow column. Fast and far They speed, like yellow leaves before the gale, When autumn winds are strongest. Through their windows I judge them thronged with people; but distinctly Their speed forbids my seeing. 

 SPIRIT-RAPPER This is one Of the great glories of our modern time, * Men are become as birds, ' and skim like swallows The surface of the world. 

 GRYLLUS For what good end?

 SPIRIT-RAPPER The end is in itself--the end of skimming The surface of the world. 

 GRYLLUS If that be all, I had rather sit in peace in my old home: But while I look, two of them meet and clash, And pile their way with ruin. One is rolled Down a steep bank; one through a broken bridge Is dashed into a flood. Dead, dying, wounded, Are there as in a battle-field. Are these Your modern triumphs? Jove preserve me from them. 

 SPIRIT-RAPPER These ills are rare. Millions are borne in safety Where ore incurs mischance. Look yet again. 

 GRYLLUS I see a mass of light brighter than that Which burned in Circe's palace, and beneath it A motley crew, dancing to joyous music. But from that light explosion comes, and flame; And forth the dancers rush in haste and fear From their wide-blazing hall. 

 SPIRIT-RAPPER Oh, Circe! Circe! Thou show'st him all the evil of our arts In more than just proportion to the good. Good without evil is not given to man. Jove, from his urns dispensing good and ill, Gives all unmixed to some, and good and ill Mingled to many--good unmixed to none. {1} Our arts are good. The inevitable ill That mixes with them, as with all things human, Is as a drop of water in a goblet Full of old wine. 

 1 This is the true sense of the Homeric passage:--

 (Greek passage) Homer: ii. Xxiv. 

 There are only two distributions: good and ill mixed, and unmixed ill. None, as Heyne has observed, receive unmixed good. Ex dolio bonorum. .. . 

 GRYLLUS More than one drop, I fear, And those of bitter water. 

 CIRCE There is yet An ample field of scientific triumph: What shall we show him next?

 SFIRIT-RAPPER Pause we awhile, He is not in the mood to feel conviction Of our superior greatness. He is all For rural comfort and domestic ease, But our impulsive days are all for moving: Sometimes with some ulterior end, but still For moving, moving, always. There is nothing Common between us in our points of judgment. He takes his stand upon tranquillity, We ours upon excitement. There we place The being, end, and aim of mortal life, The many are with us: some few, perhaps, With him. We put the question to the vote By universal suffrage. Aid us, Circe I On tajismanic wings youi spells can waft The question and reply* Are we not wiser, Happier, and better, than the men of old, Of Homer's days, of Athens, and of Rome?

 VOICES WITHOUT Ay. No. Ay, ay. No. Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, We are the wisest race the earth has known, The most advanced in all the arts of life, In science and in morals. 

 . .. Nemo meracius accipit: hoc memorare omisit. This sense is implied, not expressed. Pope missed it in his otherwise beautiful translation. 

 Two urns by Jove's high throne have ever stood, The source of evil one, and one of good; From thence the cup of mortal man he fills, Blessings to these, to those distributes ills, To most he mingles both: the wretch decreed To taste the bad, unmixed, is curst indeed; Pursued by wrongs, by meagre famine driven, He wanders, outcast both of earth and heaven. --Pope. 

 SPIRIT-RAPPER The ays have it. What is that wondrous sound, that seems like thunder Mixed with gigantic laughter?

 CIRCE It is Jupiter, Who laughs at your presumption; half in anger, And half in mockery. Now, my worthy masters, You must in turn experience in yourselves The mighty magic thus far tried on others. 

 The table turned slowly, and by degrees went on spinning with accelerated speed. The legs assumed motion, and it danced off the stage. The arms of the chairs put forth hands, and pinched the spirit-rappers, who sprang up and ran off, pursued by their chairs. This piece of mechanical pantomime was a triumph of Lord Curryfin's art, and afforded him ample satisfaction for the failure of his resonant vases. 

 CIRCE Now, Gryllus, we may seek our ancient home In my enchanted isle. 

 GRYLLUS Not yet, not yet. Good signs are toward of a joyous supper. Therein the modern world may have its glory, And I, like an impartial judge, am ready To do it ample justice. But, perhaps, As all we hitherto have seen are shadows, So too may be the supper. 

 CIRCE Fear not, Gryllus. That you will find a sound reality, To which the land and air, seas, lakes, and rivers, Have sent their several tributes. Now, kind friends, Who with your smiles have graciously rewarded Our humble, but most earnest aims to please, And with your presence at our festal board Will charm the winter midnight, Music gives The signal: Welcome and old wine await you. 

 THE CHORUS Shadows to-night have offered portraits true Of many follies which the world enthrall. 'Shadows we are, and shadows we pursue': But, in the banquet's well-illumined hall, Realides, delectable to all, Invite you now our festal joy to share. Could we our Attic prototype recall, One compound word should give our bill of fare: {1} But where our language fails, our hearts true welcome bear. 

 1 As at the end of the Ecclesusæ

[Illustration: Miss Gryll was resplendent as Circe 268-226]

Miss Gryll was resplendent as Circe; and _Miss Niphet. _, as leader ofthe chorus, looked like Melpomene herself, slightly unbending her tragicseverity into that solemn smile which characterised the chorus of theold comedy. The charm of the first acted irresistibly on _Mr. Falconer. _The second would have completed, if anything had been wanted to completeit, the conquest of _Lord Curryfin. _

The supper passed off joyously, and it was a late hour of the morningbefore the company dispersed. 

CHAPTER XXIX

THE BALD VENUS--INEZ DE CASTRO--THE UNITY OF LOVE

 Within the temple of my purer mind One imaged form shall ever live enshrined, And hear the vows, to first affection due, Still breathed: for love that ceases ne'er was true. --Leyden's Scenes of Infancy. 

An interval of a week was interposed between the comedy and the intendedball. Mr. Falconer having no fancy for balls, and disturbed beyondendurance by the interdict which Miss Gryll had laid on him againstspeaking, for four times seven days, on the subject nearest hisheart, having discharged with becoming self-command his share in theAristophanic comedy, determined to pass his remaining days of probationin the Tower, where he found, in the attentions of the seven sisters, not a perfect Nepenthe, but the only possible antidote to intensevexation of spirit. It is true, his two Hebes, pouring out his Madeira, approximated as nearly as anything could do to Helen's administration ofthe true Nepenthe. He might have sung of Madeira, as Redi's Bacchus sangof one of his favourite wines:--

 Egli è il vero oro potabile, Che mandar suole in esilio Ogni male inrimediabile: Egli è d* Elena il Nepente, Che fa stare il mondo allegro, Dai pensieri Foschi e neri Sempre sciolto, e sempre esente. {1}

 1 Redi: Bacco in Toscana. 

Matters went on quietly at the Grange. One evening, Mr. Gryll saidquietly to the Reverend Doctor Opimian--

'I have heard you, doctor, more than once, very eulogistic of hairas indispensable to beauty. What say you to the bald Venus of theRomans--_Venus Calva_?'

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Why, sir, if it were a question whetherthe Romans had any such deity, I would unhesitatingly maintain the_negatur_. Where do you find her?

_Mr. Gryll. _ In the first place, I find her in several dictionaries. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ A dictionary is nothing without an authority. You have no authority but that of one or two very late writers, andtwo or three old grammarians, who had found the word and guessed at itsmeaning. You do not find her in any genuine classic. A bald Venus! It isas manifest a contradiction in terms as hot ice, or black snow. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Yet I have certainly read, though I cannot at thismoment say where, that there was in Rome a temple to _Venus Calva_, andthat it was so dedicated in consequence of one of two circumstances: thefirst being that through some divine anger the hair of the Roman womenfell off, and that Ancus Martius set up a bald statue of his wife, whichserved as an expiation, for all the women recovered their hair, and theworship of the Bald Venus was instituted; the other being, that whenRome was taken by the Gauls, and when they had occupied the city, andwere besieging the Capitol, the besieged having no materials to makebowstrings, the women cut off their hair for the purpose, and after thewar a statue of the Bald Venus was raised in honour of the women. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I have seen the last story transferred to thetime of the younger Maximin. {1} But when two or three explanations, ofwhich only one can possibly be true, are given of any real or supposedfact, we may safely conclude that all are false. These are ridiculousmyths, founded on the misunderstanding of an obsolete word. Some holdthat _Calva_, as applied to Venus, signifies pure; but I hold withothers that it signifies alluring, with a sense of deceit. You will findthe cognate verbs, calvo and calvor, active, {2}

 1 Julius Capitolinus: Max. Jun. C. 7. 

 2 Est et Venus Calva ob hanc causam, quod cum Galli Capitolium obsiderent, et deessent funes Romanis ad tormenta facienda, prima. Domitia crinem suum, post caeterae matron», imitatae earn, exsecuerun^, unde facta tormenta; et post bellum statua Veneri hoc nomine collocata est: licet alii Calvam Venerem quasi puram tradant: alii Calvam, quod corda calviat, id est, fallat atque éludât. Quidam dicunt, porrigine olim capillos cecidisse fominis, et Ancum regem suae uxori statuam Calvam posuisse, quod constitit piaculo; nam mox omnibus fominis capilli renati sunt: unde institutum ut Calva Venus coleretur. --Servius ad Aen. I. 

passive, {1} and deponent, {2} in Servius, Plautus, and Sallust Nobodypretends that the Greeks had a bald Venus. The _Venus Calva_ of theRomans was the _Aphrodite Dolie_ of the Greeks. {3} Beauty cannotco-exist with baldness; but it may and does co-exist with deceit. Homer makes deceitful allurement an essential element in the girdle ofVenus. {4} Sappho addresses her as craft-weaving Venus. {5} Why should Imultiply examples, when poetry so abounds with complaints of deceitfullove that I will be bound every one of this company could, without amoment's hesitation, find a quotation in point?--Miss Gryll, to beginwith. 

 1 Contra ille _calvi_ ratus. --Sallust: Hist. Iii. Thinking himself to be deceitfully allured. 

 2 Nam ubi domi sola sum, sopor manus calvitur. --Plautus in Casina. For when I am at home alone, sleep alluringly deceives my hands. 

 3 (Greek passage)

 4 (Greek passage)

 5 (Greek passage)

_Miss Gryll. _ Oh, doctor, with every one who has a memory for poetry, it must be _l'embarras de richesses_. We could occupy the time tillmidnight in going round and round on the subject. We should soon come toan end with instances of truth and constancy. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Not so soon, perhaps. If we were to go onaccumulating examples, I think I could find you a Penelope for a Helen, a Fiordiligi for an Angelica, an Imogene for a Calista, a Sacripant fora Rinaldo, a Romeo for an Angelo, to nearly the end of the chapter. I will not say quite, for I am afraid at the end of the catalogue thenumbers of the unfaithful would predominate. 

_Miss Ilex. _ Do you think, doctor, you would find many examples of lovethat is one, and once for all; love never transferred from its firstobject to a second?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Plato holds that such is the essence of love, and poetry and romance present it in many instances. 

_Miss Ilex. _ And the contrary in many more. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ If we look, indeed, into the realities of life, as they offer themselves to us in our own experience, in history, inbiography, we shall find few instances of constancy to first love; butit would be possible to compile a volume of illustrious examples of lovewhich, though it may have previously ranged, is at last fixed in single, unchanging constancy. Even Inez de Castro was only the second love ofDon Pedro of Portugal; yet what an instance is there of love enduring inthe innermost heart, as if it had been engraved on marble. 

_Miss Gryll. _ What is that story, doctor? I know it but imperfectly. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Inez de Castro was the daughter, singularlybeautiful and accomplished, of a Castilian nobleman, attached to thecourt of Alphonso the Fourth of Portugal. When very young, she becamethe favourite and devoted friend of Constance, the wife of the youngPrince Don Pedro. The princess died early, and the grief of Inez touchedthe heart of Pedro, who found no consolation but in her society. Thencegrew love, which resulted in secret marriage. Pedro and Inez lived inseclusion at Coimbra, perfectly happy in each other, and in two childrenwho were born to them, till three of Alphonso's courtiers, moved by Iknow not what demon of mischief--for I never could discover an adequatemotive--induced the king to attempt the dissolution of the marriage, andfailing in this, to authorise them to murder Inez during a brief absenceof her husband. Pedro raised a rebellion, and desolated the estates ofthe assassins, who escaped, one into France, and two into Castile. Pedrolaid down his arms on the entreaty of his mother, but would neveragain see his father, and lived with his two children in the strictestretirement in the scene of his ruined happiness. When Alphonso died, Pedro determined not to assume the crown till he had punished theassassins of his wife. The one who had taken refuge in France was dead;the others were given up by the King of Castile. They were put to death, their bodies were burned, and their ashes were scattered to the winds. He then proceeded to the ceremony of his coronation. The mortal form ofInez, veiled and in royal robes, was enthroned by his side: he placedthe queenly crown on her head, and commanded all present to do herhomage. He raised in a monastery, side by side, two tombs of whitemarble, one for her, one for himself. He visited the spot daily, andremained inconsolable till he rejoined her in death. This is the truehistory, which has been sadly perverted by fiction. 

_Miss Ilex. _ There is, indeed, something grand in that long-enduringconstancy: something terribly impressive in that veiled spectralimage of robed and crowned majesty. You have given this, doctor, as aninstance that the first love is not necessarily the strongest, and this, no doubt, is frequently true. Even Romeo had loved Rosalind before hesaw Juliet. But love which can be so superseded is scarcely love. Itis acquiescence in a semblance: acquiescence, which may pass for lovethrough the entire space of life, if the latent sympathy should nevermeet its perfect counterpart. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Which it very seldom does; but acquiescence inthe semblance is rarely enduring, and hence there are few examples oflifelong constancy. But I hold with Plato that true love is single, indivisible, unalterable. 

_Miss Ilex. _ In this sense, then, true love is first love; for thelove which endures to the end of life, though it may be the second insemblance, is the first in reality. 

The next morning Lord Curryfin said to Miss Niphet. 'You took nopart in the conversation of last evening. You gave no opinion on thesingleness and permanence of love. '

_Miss Niphet. _ I mistrust the experience of others, and I have none ofmy own. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Your experience, when it comes, cannot but confirm thetheory. The love which once dwells on you can never turn to another. 

_Miss Niphet. _. I do not know that I ought to wish to inspire such anattachment. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Because you could not respond to it?

_Miss Niphet. _. On the contrary; because I think it possible I mightrespond to it too well. 

She paused a moment, and then, afraid of trusting herself to carry onthe dialogue, she said: 'Come into the hall, and play at battledore andshuttlecock. '

He obeyed the order: but in the exercise her every movement developedsome new grace, that maintained at its highest degree the intensity ofhis passionate admiration. 

[Illustration: Her every movement developed some new grace 275-235]

CHAPTER XXX

A CAPTIVE KNIGHT--RICHARD AND ALICE

 --dum fata, sînunt. Jungamus am ores: mox veniet tenebris Mors adoperta caput: jam subrepet incrs otas, nee amare deeebii, dicere nee ucuio blandîtias capite. 

 Let us, while Fate allows, in love combine, Ere our last night its shade around us throw, Or Ages slow-creeping quench the fire divine, And tender words befit not locks of snow. 

The shuttlecock had been some time on the wing, struck to and frowith unerring aim, and to all appearances would never have touched theground, if Lord Curryfin had not seen, or fancied he saw, symptoms offatigue on the part of his fair antagonist. He therefore, instead ofreturning the shuttlecock, struck it upward, caught it in his hand, and presented it to her, saying, 'I give in. The victory is yours. ' Sheanswered, 'The victory is yours, as it always is, in courtesy. '

She said this with a melancholy smile, more fascinating to him than themost radiant expression from another. She withdrew to the drawing-room, motioning to him not to follow. 

In the drawing-room she found Miss Gryll, who appeared to be reading; atany rate, a book was open before her. 

_Miss Gryll. _ You did not see me just now, as I passed through the hall. You saw only two things: the shuttlecock, and your partner in the game. 

_Miss Niphet. _. It is not possible to play, and see anything but theshuttlecock. 

_Miss Gryll. _ And the hand that strikes it. 

_Miss Niphet. _. That comes unavoidably into sight. 

_Miss Gryll. _ My dear Alice, you are in love, and do not choose toconfess it. 

[Illustration: You are in love, and do not choose to confess it. 279-239]

_Miss Niphet. _. I have no right to be in love with your suitor. 

_Miss Gryll. _ He was my suitor, and has not renounced his pursuit; buthe is your lover. I ought to have seen long ago, that from the momenthis eyes rested on you all else was nothing to him. With all that habitof the world which enables men to conceal their feelings in society, with all his exertion to diffuse his attentions as much as possibleamong all the young ladies in his company, it must have been manifest toa careful observer, that when it came, as it seemed in ordinary course, to be your turn to be attended to, the expression of his features waschanged from complacency and courtesy to delight and admiration. Icould not have failed to see it, if I had not been occupied with otherthoughts. Tell me candidly, do you not think it is so?

_Miss Niphet. _ Indeed, my dear Morgana, I did not designedly enter intorivalry with you; but I do think you conjecture rightly. 

_Miss Gryll. _ And if he were free to offer himself to you, and if he didso offer himself, you would accept him?

_Miss Niphet. _. Assuredly I would. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Then, when you next see him, he shall be free. I have setmy happiness on another cast, and I will stand the hazard of the die. 

_Miss Niphet. _. You are very generous, Morgana: for I do not think yougive up what you do not value. 

_Miss Gryll. _ No, indeed. I value him highly. So much so, that Ihave hesitated, and might have finally inclined to him, if I had notperceived his invincible preference of you. I am sorry, for your sakeand his, that I did not clearly perceive it sooner; but you see what itis to be spoiled by admirers. I did not think it possible that any onecould be preferred to me. I ought to have thought it possible, but I hadno experience in that direction. So now you see a striking specimen ofmortified vanity. 

_Miss Niphet. _. You have admirers in abundance, Morgana: more than haveoften fallen to the lot of the most attractive young women. And loveis such a capricious thing, that to be the subject of it is no proof ofsuperior merit. There are inexplicable affinities of sympathy, that makeup an irresistible attraction, heaven knows how. 

_Miss Gryll. _ And these inexplicable affinities Lord Curryfin has foundin you, and you in him. 

_Miss Niphet. _. He has never told me so. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Not in words: but looks and actions have spoken for him. You have both struggled to conceal your feelings from others, perhapseven from yourselves. But you are both too ingenuous to dissemblesuccessfully. You suit each other thoroughly: and I have no doubt youwill find in each other the happiness I most cordially wish you. 

Miss Gryll soon found an opportunity of conversing with Lord Curryfin, and began with him somewhat sportively: 'I have been thinking, ' shesaid, 'of an old song which contains a morsel of good advice--

 Be sure to be off with the old love, Before you are on with the new. 

You begin by making passionate love to me, and all at once you turnround to one of my young friends, and say, "Zephyrs whisper how I loveyou. "'

_Lord Curryfin. _ Oh no! no, indeed. I have not said that, nor anythingto the same effect. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Well, if you have not exactly said it, you have impliedit. You have looked it. You have felt it. You cannot conceal it. Youcannot deny it. I give you notice that, if I die for love of you, Ishall haunt you. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Ah! Miss Gryll, if you do not die till you die forlove of me, you will be as immortal as Circe, whom you so divinelyrepresented. 

_Miss Gryll. _ You offered yourself to me, to have and to hold, for everand aye. Suppose I claim you. Do not look so frightened. You deservesome punishment, but that would be too severe. But, to a certain extent, you belong to me, and I claim the right to transfer you. I shall makea present of you to _Miss Niphet. _. So, according to the old rulesof chivalry, I order you, as my captive by right, to present yourselfbefore her, and tell her that you have come to receive her commands, andobey them to the letter. I expect she will keep you in chains for life. You do not look much alarmed at the prospect. Yet you must be aware thatyou are a great criminal; and you have not a word to say in your ownjustification. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Who could be insensible to charms like yours, if hopecould have mingled with the contemplation? But there were several causesby which hope seemed forbidden, and therefore----

_Miss Gryll. _ And therefore when beauty, and hope, and sympathy shoneunder a more propitious star, you followed its guidance. You could nothelp yourself:

 What heart were his that could resist That melancholy smile?

I shall flatter myself that I might have kept you if I had tried hardfor it at first; but

 Il pentirsi da sesto nulla giova. 

No doubt you might have said with the old song, I ne'er could any lustre see In eyes that would not look on me. 

But you scarcely gave me time to look on you before you were gone. Yousee, however, like our own Mirror of Knighthood, I make the best of myevil fate, and

 Cheer myself up with ends of verse, And sayings of philosophers. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I am glad to see you so merry; for even if your heartwere more deeply touched by another than it ever could have been by me, I think I may say of you, in your own manner, So light a heel Will never wear the everlasting flint. 

I hope and I believe you will always trip joyously over the surface ofthe world. You are the personification of L'Allegro. 

_Miss Gryll. _ I do not know how that may be. But go now to thepersonification of La Penserosa. If you do not turn her into a brighterAllegro than I am, you may say I have no knowledge of woman's heart. 

It was not long after this dialogue that Lord Curryfin found anopportunity of speaking to Miss Niphet alone. He said, 'I am chargedwith a duty, such as was sometimes imposed on knights in the old days ofchivalry. A lady, who claims me as her captive by right, has ordered meto kneel at your feet, to obey your commands, and to wear your chains, if you please to impose them. '

_Miss Niphet. _ To your kneeling I say, Rise; for your obedience, I haveno commands; for chains, I have none to impose. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ You have imposed them, I wear them already, inextricably, indissolubly. 

_Miss Niphet. _ If I may say, with the witch in _Thalaba_, Only she, Who knit his bonds, can set him free, I am prepared to unbind the bonds. Rise my lord, rise. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I will rise if you give me your hand to lift me up. 

_Miss Niphet. _. There it is. Now that it has helped you up, let it go. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ And do not call me my lord. 

_Miss Niphet. _ What shall I call you?

_Lord Curryfin. _ Call me Richard, and let me call you Alice. 

_Miss Niphet. _. That is a familiarity only sanctioned by longer intimacythan ours has been. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Or closer?

_Miss Niphet. _ We have been very familiar friends during the brief termof our acquaintance. But let go my hand. 

Lord Curryfin, I have set my heart on being allowed to call you Alice, and on your calling me Richard. 

_Miss Niphet. _ It must not be so--at least, not yet. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ There is nothing I would not do to acquire the right. 

_Miss Niphet. _ Nothing?

_Lord Curryfin. _ Nothing. 

_Miss Niphet. _ How thrives your suit with Miss Gryll?

_Lord Curryfin. _ That is at an end. I have her permission--her commandshe calls it--to throw myself at your feet, and on your mercy. 

_Miss Niphet. _ How did she take leave of you, crying or laughing?

_Lord Curryfin. _ Why, if anything, laughing. 

_Miss Niphet. _. Do you not feel mortified?

_Lord Curryfin. _ I have another and deeper feeling, which predominatesover any possible mortification. 

_Miss Niphet. _ And that is--

_Lord Curryfin. _ Can you doubt what it is!

_Miss Niphet. _. I will not pretend to doubt. I have for some time beenwell aware of your partiality for me. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Partiality! Say love, adoration, absorption of allfeelings into one. 

_Miss Niphet. _. Then you may call me Alice. But once more, let go myhand. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ My hand, is it not?

_Miss Niphet. _. Yours, when you claim it. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Then thus I seal my claim. 

He kissed her hand as respectfully as was consistent with 'masterlesspassion'; and she said to him, 'I will not dissemble. If I have had onewish stronger than another--strong enough to exclude all others--it hasbeen for the day when you might be free to say to me what you have nowsaid. Am I too frank with you?'

_Lord Curryfin. _ Oh, heaven, no! I drink in your words as a stream fromparadise. 

He sealed his claim again, but this time it was on her lips. The roseagain mantled on her cheek, but the blush was heightened to damask. Shewithdrew herself from his arms, saying, 'Once for all, till you have anindisputable right. '

CHAPTER XXXI

A TWELFTH-NIGHT BALL--PANTOPRAGMATIC COOKERY--MODERN VANDALISM--A BOWLOF PUNCH

 sic erimus cuncti, postquam nos auferet Orcus: ergo vivamus, dura licet esse bene. 

 So must we be, when ends our mortal day: Then let us live, while yet live well we may. 

 _Trimalchio, with the silver skeleton: in_ Petronius: c. 34. 

Twelfth-night was the night of the ball. The folding-doors of thedrawing-rooms, which occupied their entire breadth, were thrown wideopen. The larger room was appropriated to grown dancers; the smaller tochildren, who came in some force, and were placed within the magneticattraction of an enormous twelfth-cake, which stood in a decoratedrecess. The carpets had been taken up, and the floors were painted withforms in chalk{1} by skilful artists, under the superintendence of Mr. Pallet. The library, separated from all the apartments by ante-chamberswith double doors, was assigned, with an arrangement of whist-tables, to such of the elder portion of the party as might prefer that mode ofamusement to being mere spectators of the dancing. Mr. Gryll, with MissIlex, Mr. MacBorrowdale, and the Reverend Dr. Opimian, established hisown quadrille party in a corner of the smaller drawing-room, where theycould at once play and talk, and enjoy the enjoyment of the young. LordCurryfin was Master of the Ceremonies. 

 1 These all wear out of me, like forms with chalk Painted on rich men's floors, for one feast-night: says Wordsworth, of 'chance acquaintance, ' in his neighbourhood. --Miscellaneous Sonnets, No. 39. 

After two or three preliminary dances, to give time for the arrival ofthe whole of the company, the twelfth-cake was divided. The characterswere drawn exclusively among the children, and the little king and queenwere duly crowned, placed on a theatrical throne, and paraded in stateround both drawing-rooms, to their own great delight and that of theirlittle associates. Then the ball was supposed to commence, and was bygeneral desire opened with a minuet by Miss Niphet and Lord Curryfin. Then came alternations of quadrilles and country dances, interspersedwith occasional waltzes and polkas. So the ball went merrily, with, asusual, abundant love-making in mute signs and in _sotto voce_ parlance. 

Lord Curryfin, having brought his own love-making to a satisfactoryclose, was in exuberant spirits, sometimes joining in the dance, sometimes--in his official capacity--taking the round of the rooms tosee that everything was going on to everybody's satisfaction. He couldnot fail to observe that his proffered partnership in the dance, thoughalways graciously, was not so ambitiously accepted as before he haddisposed of himself for life. A day had sufficed to ask and obtain theconsent of Miss Niphet's father, who now sate on the side of the largerdrawing-room, looking with pride and delight on his daughter, and withcordial gratification on her choice; and when it was once, as it wasat once known, that Miss Niphet was to be Lady Curryfin, his lordshippassed into the class of married men, and was no longer the object ofthat solicitous attention which he had received as an undrawn prize inthe lottery of marriage, while it was probable that somebody would havehim, and nobody knew who. 

The absence of Mr. Falconer was remarked by several young ladies, towhom it appeared that Miss Gryll had lost her two most favoured loversat once. However, as she had still many others, it was not yet a decidedcase for sympathy. Of course she had no lack of partners, and whatevermight have been her internal anxiety, she was not the least gay amongthe joyous assembly. 

Lord Curryfin, in his circuit of the apartments, paused at thequadrille-table, and said, 'You have been absent two or three days, Mr. MacBorrowdale--what news have you brought from London?'

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ Not much, my lord. Tables turn as usual, and theghost-trade appears to be thriving instead of being merely audible, the ghosts are becoming tangible, and shake hands under the tables withliving wiseacres, who solemnly attest the fact. Civilised men ill-usetheir wives; the wives revenge themselves in their own way, and theDivorce Court has business enough on its hands to employ it twentyyears at its present rate of progression. Commercial bubbles burst, and high-pressure boilers blow up, and mountebanks of all descriptionsflourish on public credulity. Everywhere there are wars and rumours ofwars. The Peace Society has wound up its affairs in the Insolvent Courtof Prophecy. A great tribulation is coming on the earth, and Apollyonin person is to be perpetual dictator all the nations. There is, to besure, one piece of news your line, but it will be no news to you. Thereis a meeting of the Pantopragmatic Society, under the presidency ofLord Facing-both-ways, who has opened it with a long speech, philanthropically designed as an elaborate exercise in fallacies, forthe benefit of young rhetoricians. The society has divided its work intodepartments, which are to meddle with everything, from the highest tothe lowest--from a voice in legislation to a finger in Jack Horner'spie. I looked for a department of Fish, with your lordship's name atthe head of it; but I did not find it. It would be a fine department. It would divide itself naturally into three classes--living fish, fossilfish, and fish in the frying-pan. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ I assure you, Mr. MacBorrowdale, all this seems asridiculous now to me as it does to you. The third class of fish is allthat I shall trouble myself with in future, and that only at the tablesof myself and my friends. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ I wonder the Pantopragmatics have not a department ofcookery; a female department, to teach young wives how to keep theirhusbands at home, by giving them as good dinners as they can get abroad, especially at club. Those anti-domestic institutions receive their chiefencouragment from the total ignorance of cookery on the part of youngwives: for in this, as in all other arts of life, it is not sufficientto order what shall be done: it is necessary to know how it ought to bedone. This is a matter of more importance to social well-being thannine-tenths of the subjects the Pantopragmatics meddle with. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And therefore I rejoice that they do not meddlewith it. A dinner, prepared from a New Art of Cookery, concocted undertheir auspices, would be more comical and more uneatable than the Romandinner in Peregrine Pickle. Let young ladies learn cookery by allmeans: but let them learn under any other tuition than that of thePantopragmatic Society. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ As for the tribulation coming on the earth, I am afraidthere is some ground to expect it, without looking for its foreshadowingexclusively to the Apocalypse. Niebuhr, who did not draw his opinionsfrom prophecy, rejoiced that his career was coming to a close, for hethought we were on the eve of a darker middle age. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ He had not before his eyes the astounding marchof intellect, drumming and trumpeting science from city to city. But Iam afraid that sort of obstreperous science only gives people the novel'use of their eyes to see the way of blindness. '{1}

 Truths which, from action's paths retired, My silent search in vain required, {2}

 1 Gaoler. For look you, sir: you know not which way you shall go. Posthumus. Yes, indeed do I, fellow. 

 Gaoler. Your death has eyes in's head, then: I have not seen him so pictured. .. . 

 Posthumus. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I am going, but such as wink, and will not use them. 

 Gaoler. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes to see the way of blindness!

 --Cymbeline: Act v. Scene 4. 

 2 Collins: Ode on the Manners. 

I am not likely to find in the successive gabblings of a dozen lecturersof Babel. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ If you could so find them, they would be of little availagainst the new irruption of Goths and Vandals, which must have beenin the apprehension of Niebuhr. There are Vandals on northern thrones, anxious for nothing so much as to extinguish truth and liberty whereverthey show themselves--Vandals in the bosom of society everywhere evenamongst ourselves, in multitudes, with precisely the same aim, only moredisguised by knaves, and less understood by dupes. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ And, you may add, Vandals dominating oversociety throughout half America, who deal with free speech and even thesuspicion of free thought just as the Inquisition dealt with them, only substituting Lynch law and the gallows for a different mockery ofjustice, ending in fire and faggot. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ I confine my view to Europe. I dread northern monarchy, andsouthern anarchy; and rabble brutality amongst ourselves, smotheredand repressed for the present, but always ready to break out intoinextinguishable flame, like hidden fire under treacherous ashes. {1}

 1 ----incedis per ignes suppositos cineri doloso. --Hor. Carm, 11. I. 

_Mr. MacBorrowdale_. In the meantime, we are all pretty comfortable; andsufficient for the day is the evil thereof; which in our case, so far asI can see, happens to be precisely none. 

_Miss Ilex. _ Lord Curryfin seems to be of that opinion, for he hasflitted away from the discussion, and is going down a country dance with_Miss Niphet. _. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ He has chosen his time well. He takes care to beher last partner before supper, that he may hand her to the table. Butdo you observe how her tragic severity has passed away? She was alwayspleasant to look on, but it was often like contemplating ideal beautyin an animated statue--Now she is the image of perfect happiness, andirradiates all around her. 

_Miss Ilex. _ How can it be otherwise? The present and the future are allbrightness to her. She cannot but reflect their radiance. 

Now came the supper, which, as all present had dined early, wasunaffectedly welcomed and enjoyed. Lord Curryfin looked carefully to thecomfort of his idol, but was unremitting in his attentions to herfair neighbours. After supper, dancing was resumed, with an apparentresolution in the greater portion of the company not to go home tillmorning. Mr. Gryll, Mr. MacBorrowdale, the Reverend Doctor Opimian, andtwo or three elders of the party, not having had their usual allowanceof wine after their early dinner, remained at the supper table over abowl of punch, which had been provided in ample quantity, and, in theintervals of dancing, circulated, amongst other refreshments, roundthe sides of the ballroom, where it was gratefully accepted by thegentlemen, and not absolutely disregarded even by the young ladies. This may be conceded on occasion, without admitting Goldoni's facetiousposition, that a woman, masked and silent, may be known to be English byher acceptance of punch. {1}

 1 Lord Runebif, in Venice, meets Rosaura, who is masked, before a _bottega di caffè_. She makes him a curtsey in the English fashion. 

 Milord. Madama, molto compita, voleté caffè?

 Rosaura. (Fa cenno di no. )

 Milord. Cioccolata?

 Rosaura. (Fa cenno di no. )

 Milord. Voleté ponce?

 Rosaura. (Fa cenno di si. )

 Milord. Oh! è Inglese. 

 La Vedova Scaltra, A. Iii. S. 10. 

 He does not offer her tea, which, as a more English drink than either coffee or chocolate, might have entered into rivalry with punch: especially if, as Goldoni represented in another comedy, the English were in the habit of drinking it, not with milk, but with arrack. Lord Arthur calls on his friend Lord Bonfil in the middle of the day, and Lord Bonfil offers him tea, which is placed on the table with sugar and arrack. While they are drinking it, Lord Coubrech enters. 

 Bonfil. Favorite, bevete con noi. 

 Coubrech. Il tè non si rifiuta. 

 Artur. E bevanda salutifera. 

 Bonfil. Voleté rak?

 Coubrech. SI, rak. 

 Bonfil. Ecco, vi servo. 

 --Pamela Fanciulla, A. I. S. 15. 

CHAPTER XXXII

HOPES AND FEARS--COMPENSATIONS IN LIFE--ATHENIAN COMEDY--MADEIRA ANDMUSIC--CONFIDENCES

 (Greek Passage)

 The Ghost of Darius to the Chorus, in the Perso of Æschylus. 

 Farewell, old friends: and even if ills surround you, Seize every joy the passing day can bring, For wealth affords no pleasure to the dead. 

Dorothy had begun to hope that Harry's news might be true, but evenHarry's sanguineness began to give way: the pertinacity with which theyoung master remained at home threw a damp on their expectations. Buthaving once fairly started, in the way of making love on the one sideand responding to it on the other, they could not but continue as theyhad begun, and she permitted him to go on building castles in the air, in which the Christmas of the ensuing year was arrayed in the brightestapparel of fire and festival. 

Harry, walking home one afternoon, met the Reverend Doctor Opimian, who was on his way to the Tower, where he purposed to dine and passthe night. Mr. Falconer's absence from the ball had surprised him, especially as Lord Curryfin's rivalry had ceased, and he could imagineno good cause for his not returning to the Grange. The doctor held outhis hand to Harry, who returned the grasp most cordially. The doctorasked him, 'how he and his six young friends were prospering in theirsiege of the hearts of the seven sisters. '

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Why, sir, so far as the young ladies are concerned, wehave no cause to complain. But we can't make out the young gentleman. He used to sit and read all the morning, at the top of the Tower. Nowhe goes up the stairs, and after a little while he comes down again, andwalks into the forest. Then he goes upstairs again, and down again, and out again. Something must be come to him, and the only thing we canthink of is, that he is crossed in love. And he never gives me a letteror a message to the Grange. So, putting all that together, we haven't amerry Christmas, you see, sir. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I see, still harping on a merry Christmas. Letus hope that the next may make amends. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Have they a merry Christmas at the Grange, sir?

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Very merry. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Then there's nobody crossed in love there, sir. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ That is more than I can say. I cannot answer forothers. I am not, and never was, if that is any comfort to you. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ It is a comfort to me to see you, and hear the soundof your voice, sir. It always does me good. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Why then, my young friend, you are most heartilywelcome to see and hear me whenever you please, if you will come over tothe Vicarage. And you will always find a piece of cold roast beef anda tankard of good ale; and just now a shield of brawn. There is somecomfort in them. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Ah! thank ye, sir. They are comfortable things intheir way. But it isn't for them I should come. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I believe you, my young friend. But a man fightsbest when he has a good basis of old English fare to stand on, againstall opposing forces, whether of body or mind. Come and see me. Andwhatever happens in this world, never let it spoil your dinner. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ That's father's advice, sir. But it won't always do. When he lost mother, that spoiled his dinner for many a day. He hasnever been the same man since, though he bears up as well as he can. Butif I could take Miss Dorothy home to him, I'm sure that would allbut make him young again. And if he had a little Harry dandlenext Christmas, wouldn't he give him the first spoonful out of themarrow-bone!

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I doubt if that would be good food for littleHarry, notwithstanding it was Hector's way of feeding Astyanax. {1} Butwe may postpone the discussion his diet till he makes his appearance. Inthe meantime, live in hope; but live on beef and ale. 

The doctor again shook him heartily by the hand, an Harry took hisleave. 

[Illustration: Live in hope; but live on beef and ale 294-252]

The doctor walked on, soliloquising as usual. 'This young man's fatherhas lost a good wife, and has never been the same man since. If he hadhad a bad wife, he would have felt it as a happy release. This life hasstrange compensations. It helps to show the truth of Juvenal's remark, that the gods alone know what is good for us. {2}

 1 Il. Xxii. Vv. 500, 501. 

 2 Juvenal: Sut. X. V. 346. 

Now, here again is my friend at the Tower. If he had not, as I am surehe has, the love of Morgana, he would console himself with his Vestals. If he had not their sisterly affection, he would rejoice in the love ofMorgana, but having both the love and the affection, he is between twocounter-attractions, either of which would make him happy, and bothtogether make him miserable. Who can say which is best for him? or forthem? or for Morgana herself? I almost wish the light of her favour hadshone on _Lord Curryfin. _ That chance has pass from her; and she willnot easily find such another. Perhaps she might have held him in herbonds, if she had been so disposed. But _Miss Niphet. _ is a gloriousgirl, and there is a great charm in such perfect reciprocity. Jupiterhimself, as I have before had occasion to remark, must have prearrangedtheir consentaneity. The young lord went on some time, adhering, ashe supposed, to his first pursuit, and falling unconsciously andinextricably into the second; and the young lady went on, devoting herwhole heart and soul to him, not clearly perhaps knowing it herself, butcertainly not suspecting that any one else could dive into the heartof her mystery. And now they both seem surprised that nobody seemssurprised at their sudden appearance in the character affianced lovers. His is another example of strange compensation; for if Morgana hadaccepted him on his first offer, Miss Niphet would not have thoughtof him; but she found him a waif and stray, a flotsam on the waters oflove, and landed him at her feet without art or stratagem. Artlessnessand simplicity triumphed, where the deepest design would have /ailed. Ido not know if she had any compensation to look for; but if she had, she has found it; for never was a man with more qualities for domestichappiness, and not Pedro of Portugal himself was more overwhelmingly inlove. When I first knew him, I saw only the comic side of his character:he has a serious one too, and not the least agreeable part of it: butthe comic still shows itself. I cannot well define whether his exuberantgood-humour is contagious, and makes me laugh by anticipation as soonas I fall into his company, or whether it is impossible to think of him, gravely lecturing on Fish, as a member of the Pantopragmatic Society, without perceiving a ludicrous contrast between his pleasant social faceand the unpleasant social impertinence of those would-be meddlers witheverything. It is true, he has renounced that folly; but it is not soeasy to dissociate him from the recollection. No matter: if I laugh, helaughs with me: if he laughs, I laugh with him. "Laugh when you can, "is a good maxim: between well-disposed sympathies a very little causestrikes out the fire of merriment--

 As long liveth the merry man, they say, As doth the sorry man, and longer by a day. And a day so acquired is a day worth having. But then-- Another sayd sawe doth men advise, That they be together both merry and wise. {1}

 1 These two quotations are from the oldest comedy in the English language: _Ralph Roister Doister_, 1566. Republished by the Shakespeare Society, 1847. 

Very good doctrine, and fit to be kept in mind: but there is much goodlaughter without much wisdom, and yet with no harm in it. '

The doctor was approaching the Tower when he met Mr. Falconer, who hadmade one of his feverish exits from it, and was walking at double hisusual speed. He turned back with the doctor, who having declined takinganything before dinner but a glass of wine and a biscuit, they went uptogether to the library. 

They conversed only on literary subjects. The doctor, though Miss Cryllwas uppermost in his mind, determined not to originate a word respectingher, and Mr. Falconer, though she was also his predominant idea, feltthat it was only over a bottle of Madeira he could unbosom himselffreely to the doctor. 

The doctor asked, 'What he had been reading of late? He said, 'I havetried many things, but I have alway returned to _Orlando Innamorato_. There it is on the table an old edition of the original poem. {1} Thedoctor said, have seen an old edition, something like this, on thedrawing-room table at the Grange. ' He was about to say somethingtouching sympathy in taste, but he checked himself in time. The twoyounger sisters brought in lights. 'I observe, ' said the doctor, 'thatyour handmaids always move in pairs. My hot water for dressing isalways brought by two inseparables, whom it seems profanation to callhousemaids. '

[Illustration: Your handmaids always move in pairs 298-256]

_Mr. Falconer. _ It is always so on my side of the house that not abreath of scandal may touch their reputation. If you were to live herefrom January to December, with a houseful of company, neither you nor I, nor any of my friends, would see one of them alone for a single minute. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I approve the rule. I would stake my life on theconviction that these sisters are

 Pure as the new-fall'n snow, When never yet the sullying sun Has seen its purity, Nor the warm zephyr touched and tainted it. {1}

 1 Southey: _Thalaba_. 

But as the world is constituted, the most perfect virtue needs to beguarded from suspicion. I cannot, however, associate your habits with ahouseful of company. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ There must be sympathies enough in the world to makeup society for all tastes: more difficult to find in some cases thanin others; but still always within the possibility of being found. Icontemplated, when I arranged this house, the frequent presence of aselect party. The Aristophanic comedy and its adjuncts brought me intopleasant company elsewhere. I have postponed the purpose, not abandonedit. 

Several thoughts passed through the doctor's mind. He was almost temptedto speak them. 'How beautiful was Miss Gryll in Circe; how charminglyshe acted. What was a select party without women? And how could abachelor invite them?' But this would be touching a string which hehad determined not to be the first to strike. So, _apropos_ of theAristophanic comedy, he took down Aristophanes, and said, 'What a highidea of Athenian comedy is given by this single line, in which thepoet opines "the bringing out of comedy to be the most difficult of allarts. "'{1} It would not seem to be a difficult art nowadays, seeing howmuch new comedy is nightly produced in London, and still more in Paris, which, whatever may be its literary value, amuses its audiences as muchas Aristophanes amused the Athenians. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ There is this difference, that though both audiences maybe equally amused, the Athenians felt they had something to be proud ofin the poet, which our audiences can scarcely feel, as far as noveltiesare concerned. And as to the atrocious outrages on taste and feelingperpetrated under the name of burlesques, I should be astonished ifeven those who laugh at them could look back on their amusement with anyother feeling than that of being most heartily ashamed of the author, the theatre, and themselves. 

When the dinner was over, and a bottle of claret had been placed by theside of the doctor, and a bottle of Madeira by the side of his host, whohad not been sparing during dinner of his favourite beverage, which hadbeen to him for some days like ale to the Captain and his friends inBeaumont and Fletcher, {2} almost 'his eating and his drinking solely, 'the doctor said, 'I am glad to perceive that you keep up your practiceof having a good dinner; though I am at the same time sorry to see thatyou have not done your old justice to it. '

 1 (Greek passage)--Equités. 

 2 Ale is their eating and their drinking solely. --Scornful Lady, Act iv. Scene 2. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ A great philosopher had seven friends, one of whom dinedwith him in succession on each day of the week. He directed, amongsthis last dispositions, that during six months after his death theestablishment of his house should be kept on the same footing, and thata dinner should be daily provided for himself and his single guest ofthe day, who was to be entreated to dine there in memory of him, withone of his executors (both philosophers) to represent him in doing thehonours of the table alternately. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I am happy to see that the honours of your tableare done by yourself, and not by an executor, administrator, or assign. The honours are done admirably, but the old justice on your side iswanting. I do not, however, clearly see what the _feralis cæna_ of guestand executor has to do with the dinner of two living men. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Ah, doctor, you should say one living man and a ghost. I am only the ghost of myself. I do the honours of my departedconviviality. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I thought something was wrong; but whatever itmay be, take Horace's advice--'Alleviate every ill with wine and song, the sweet consolations of deforming anxiety. '{1}

_Mr. Falconer. _ I do, doctor. Madeira, and the music of the SevenSisters, are my consolations, and great ones; but they do not go downto the hidden care that gnaws at the deepest fibres of the heart, likeRatatosk at the roots of the Ash of Ygdrasil. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ In the Scandinavian mythology: one of the mostpoetical of all mythologies. I have a great respect for Odin and Thor. Their adventures have always delighted me; and the system was admirablyadapted to foster the high spirit of a military people. Lucan has a finepassage on the subject. {2}

 1 illia omne malum vino cantuque levato, deformis aggrimonio dulcibus alloquiis. 

 Epod. Xiii. 2 Pharsalia, 458-462. 

The doctor repeated the passage of Lucan with great emphasis. Thiswas not what Mr. Falconer wanted. He had wished that the doctor shouldinquire into the cause of his trouble; but independently of the doctor'sdetermination to ask no questions, and to let his young friend originatehis own disclosures, the unlucky metaphor had carried the doctor intoone of his old fields, and if it had not been that he awaited theconfidence, which he felt sure his host would spontaneously repose inhim, the Scandinavian mythology would have formed his subject for theevening. He paused, therefore, and went on quietly sipping his claret. 

Mr. Falconer could restrain himself no longer, and without preface ornote of preparation, he communicated to the doctor all that had passedbetween Miss Gryll and himself, not omitting a single word of thepassages of Bojardo, which were indelibly impressed on his memory. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I cannot see what there is to afflict you in allthis. You are in love with _Miss Gryll. _ She is disposed to receive youfavourably. What more would you wish in that quarter?

_Mr. Falconer. _ No more in that quarter, but the Seven Sisters areas sisters to me. If I had seven real sisters, the relationship wouldsubsist, and marriage would not interfere with it; but, be a woman asamiable, as liberal, as indulgent, as confiding as she may, she couldnot treat the unreal as she would the real tie. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I admit, it is not to be expected. Still thereis one way out of the difficulty. And that is by seeing all the sevenhappily married. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ All the seven married? Surely that is impossible. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ Not so impossible as you apprehend. 

The doctor thought it a favourable opportunity to tell the story ofthe seven suitors, and was especially panegyrical on Harry Hedgerow, observing, that if the maxim _Noscitur a sociis_ might be reversed, and a man's companions judged by himself, it would be a sufficientrecommendation of the other six; whom, moreover, the result of hisinquiries had given him ample reason to think well of. Mr. Falconerreceived with pleasure at Christmas a communication which at theMidsummer preceding would have given him infinite pain. It struck himall at once that, as he had dined so ill, he would have some partridgesfor supper, his larder being always well stocked with game. They werepresented accordingly, after the usual music in the drawing-room, and the doctor, though he had dined well, considered himself bound incourtesy to assist in their disposal; when, recollecting how he hadwound, up the night of the ball, he volunteered to brew a bowl of punch, over which they sate till a late hour, discoursing of many things, butchiefly of Morgana. 

[Illustration: discoursing of many things, but chiefly of Morgana304-261]

CHAPTER XXXIII

THE CONQUEST OF THEBES

 (Greek passage)

 ÆSCHYLUS: Prometheus. 

 Oh! wise was he, the first who taught This lesson of observant thought, That equal fates alone may dress The bowers of nuptial happiness; That never, where ancestral pride Inflames, or affluence rolls its tide, Should love's ill-omened bonds entwine The offspring of an humbler line. 

Mr. Falconer, the next morning, after the doctor had set out on hisreturn walk, departed from his usual practice of not seeing one ofthe sisters alone, and requested that Dorothy would come to him in thedrawing-room. She appeared before him, blushing and trembling. 

[Illustration: She appeared before him, blushing and trembling. 308-265]

'Sit down, ' he said, 'dear Dorothy; I have something to say to youand your sisters; but I have reasons for saying it first to you. Itis probable, at any rate possible, that I shall very soon marry, andperhaps, in that case, you may be disposed to do the same. And I amtold, that one of the best young men I have ever known is dying for loveof you. '

'He is a good young man, that is certain, ' said Dorothy; then becomingsuddenly conscious of how much she had undesignedly admitted, sheblushed deeper than before. And by way of mending the matter, she said, 'But I am not dying for love of him. '

'I daresay you are not, ' said Mr. Falconer; 'you have no cause to be so, as you are sure of him, and only your consent is wanting. '

'And yours, ' said Dorothy, 'and that of my sisters; especially my eldersisters; indeed, they ought to set the example. '

'I am sure of that, ' said Mr. Falconer. 'So far, if I understandrightly, they have followed yours. It was your lover's indefatigabledevotion that brought together suitors to them all. As to my consent, that you shall certainly have. So the next time you see Master Harry, send him to me. '

'He is here now, ' said _Dorothy. _

'Then ask him to come in, ' said _Mr. Falconer. _

And Dorothy retired in some confusion. But her lips could not contradicther heart. Harry appeared. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ So, Harry, you have been making love in my house, without asking my leave. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ I couldn't help making love, sir; and I didn't askyour leave, because I thought I shouldn't get it. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Candid, as usual, _Harry. _ But do you think Dorothywould make a good farmer's wife?

_Harry Hedgerow. _ I think, sir, she is so good, and so clever, and soready and willing to turn her hand to anything, that she would be a fitwife for anybody, from a lord downwards. But it may be most for her ownhappiness to keep in the class in which she was born. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ She is not very pretty, you know. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Not pretty, sir! If she isn't a beauty, I don't knowwho is. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Well, no doubt, she is a handsome girl. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Handsome is not the thing, sir. She's beautiful. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ Well, Harry, she is beautiful, if that will please you. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ It does please me, sir. I ought to have known you werejoking when you said she was not pretty. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ But, you know, she has no fortune. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ I don't want fortune. I want her, and nothing else, and nobody else. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ But I cannot consent to her marrying without a fortuneof her own. 

_Harry Hedgerow. _ Why then, I'll give her one beforehand. Father hassaved some money, and she shall have that. We'll settle it on her, asthe lawyers say. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ You are a thoroughly good fellow, Harry, and I reallywish Dorothy joy of her choice; but that is not what I meant. She mustbring you a fortune, not take one from you; and you must not refuse it. 

Harry repeated that he did not want fortune; and Mr. Falconer repeatedthat, so far as depended on him, he should not have Dorothy without one. It was not an arduous matter to bring to an amicable settlement. 

The affair of Harry and Dorothy being thus satisfactorily arranged, the other six were adjusted with little difficulty; and Mr. Falconerreturned with a light heart to the Grange, where he presented himself atdinner on the twenty-seventh day of his probation. 

He found much the same party as before; for though some of them absentedthemselves for a while, they could not resist Mr. Gryll's earnestentreaties to return. He was cordially welcomed by all, and with agracious smile from _Morgana. _

CHAPTER XXXIV

CHRISTMAS TALES--CLASSICAL TALES OF WONDER--THE HOST'S GHOST--A TALE OFA SHADOW--A TALE OF A BOGLE--THE LEGEND OF ST. LAURA

 Jane. .. We'll draw round The fire, and grandmamma perhaps will tell us One of her stories. 

 Harry. .. Ay, dear grand maamma! A pretty story! something dismal now! A bloody murder. 

 Jane. .. Or about a ghost. 

 --Southey: The Grandmother's Fate. 

In the evening Miss Gryll said to the doctor, 'We have passed Christmaswithout a ghost story. This is not as it should be. One evening at leastof Christmas ought to be devoted to _merveilleuses histoires racontéesautour du foyer_; which Chateaubriand enumerates among the peculiarenjoyments of those _qui n'ont pas quitté leur pays natal. _ You musthave plenty of ghosts in Greek and Latin, doctor. '

[Illustration: You must have plenty of ghosts in Greek and Latin 312-270]

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ No doubt. All literature abounds with ghosts. But there are not many classical ghosts that would make a Christmastale according to the received notion of a ghost story. The ghosts ofPatroclus in Homer, of Darius in Æschylus, of Polydorus in Euripides, are fine poetical ghosts: but none of them would make a ghost story. Ican only call to mind one such story in Greek: but even that, as it hasbeen turned into ballads by Goethe, in the _Bride of Corinth_, and byLewis, in the _Gay Gold Ring_, {1}

 1 Lewis says, in a note on the _Gay Gold Ring_:--'I once read in some Grecian author, whose name I have forgotten, the story which suggested to me the outline of the foregoing ballad. It was as follows: A young man arriving at the house of a friend, to whose daughter he was betrothed, was informed that some weeks had passed since death had deprived him of his intended bride. Never having seen her, he soon reconciled himself to her loss, especially as, during his stay at his friend's house, a young lady was kind enough to visit him every night in his chamber, whence she retired at daybreak, always carrying with her some valuable present from her lover. This intercourse continued till accident showed the young man the picture of his deceased bride, and he recognised, with horror, the features of his nocturnal visitor. The young lady's tomb being opened, he found in it the various presents which his liberality had bestowed on his unknown _innamorata. _'--M. G. Lewis: _Tales of Wonder_, v. I. P. 99. 

would not be new to any one here. There are some classical tales ofwonder, not ghost stories, but suitable Christmas tales. There are twoin Petronius, which I once amused myself by translating as closely aspossible to the originals, and, if you please, I will relate them as Iremember them. For I hold with Chaucer:

 Whoso shall telle a tale after a man, He most reherse, as nigh as ever he can, Everich word, if it be in his charge, All speke he never so rudely and so large: Or elles he moste tellen his tale untrewe, Or feinen things, or finden wordes newe. {1}

 1 Canterbury Tales, w. 733-738. 

This proposal being received with an unanimous 'By all means, doctor, 'the doctor went on:

'These stories are told at the feast of Trimalchio: the first byNiceros, a freedman, one of the guests:

'While I was yet serving, we lived in a narrow street, where now is thehouse of Gavilla. There, as it pleased the gods, I fell in love with thewife of Terentius, the tavern-keeper--Melissa Tarentiana--many of youknew her, a most beautiful kiss-thrower. '

_Miss Gryll. _ That is an odd term, doctor. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ It relates, I imagine, to some graceful gestureof pantomimic dancing: for beautiful hostesses were often accomplisheddancers. Virgil's Copa, which, by the way, is only half panegyrical, gives us, nevertheless, a pleasant picture in this kind It seems to havebeen one of the great attractions of a Roman tavern: and the host, inlooking out for a wife, was probably much influenced by her possessionof this accomplishment. The dancing, probably, was of that kind whichthe moderns call _demi-caractère_, and was performed in picturesquecostume----

The doctor would have gone off in a dissertation on dancing hostesses, but Miss Gryll recalled him to the story, which he continued, in thewords of Niceros:

'But, by Hercules, mine was pure love; her manners charmed me, and herfriendliness. If I wanted money, if she had earned an _as_, she gave mea _semis_. If I had money, I gave it into her keeping. Never was womanmore trustworthy. Her husband died at a farm which they possessed inthe country. I left no means untried to visit her in her distress; forfriends are shown in adversity. It so happened that my master had goneto Capua, to dispose of some cast-off finery. Seizing the opportunity, 1persuaded a guest of ours to accompany me to the fifth milestone. He wasa soldier, strong as Pluto. We set off before cockcrow; the moonshone like day; we passed through a line of tombs. My man began someceremonies before the pillars. I sat down, singing, and counting thestars. Then, as I looked round to my comrade, he stripped himself, andlaid his clothes by the wayside. My heart was in my nose: I could nomore move than a dead man. But he walked three times round his clothes, and was suddenly changed into a wolf. Do not think I am jesting. Noman's patrimony would tempt me to lie. But, as I had begun to say, assoon as he was changed into a wolf, he set up a long howl, and fled intothe woods. I remained awhile, bewildered; then I approached to take uphis clothes, but they were turned into stone. Who was dying of fear butI? But I drew my sword, and went on cutting shadows till I arrived atthe farm. I entered the narrow way. The life was half boiled out ofme; perspiration ran down me like a torrent: my eyes were dead. I couldscarcely come to myself. My Melissa began to wonder why I walked solate; "and if you had come sooner, " she said, "you might at least havehelped us; for a wolf entered the farm and fell on the sheep, tearingthem, and leaving them all bleeding. He escaped; but with cause toremember us; for our man drove a spear through his neck. " When I heardthese things I could not think of sleep; but hurried homeward with thedawn; and when I came to the place where the clothes had been turnedinto stone, I found nothing but blood. 

'When I reached home, my soldier was in bed, lying like an ox, and asurgeon was dressing his neck. I felt that he was a turnskin, and Icould never after taste bread with him, not if you would have killedme. Let those who doubt of such things look into them. If I lie, may thewrath of all your Genii fall on me. '

This story being told, Trimalchio, the lord of the feast, after givinghis implicit adhesion to it, and affirming the indisputable veracity ofNiceros, relates another, as a fact of his own experience. 

'While yet I wore long hair, for from a boy I led a Chian life, {1} ourlittle Iphis, the delight of the family, died; by Hercules, a pearl;quick, beautiful, one of ten thousand. While, therefore, his unhappymother was weeping for him, and we all were plunged in sorrow, suddenlywitches came in pursuit of him, as dogs, you may suppose, of a hare. Wehad then in the house a Cappadocian, tall, brave to audacity, capableof lifting up an angry bull. He boldly, with a drawn sword, rushed outthrough the gate, having his left hand carefully wrapped up, and drovehis sword through a woman's bosom; here as it were; safe be what Itouch! We heard a groan; but, assuredly, I will not lie, we did not seethe women. But our stout fellow returning, threw himself into bed, andall his body was livid, as if he had been beaten with whips; for theevil hand had touched him. We closed the gate, and resumed our watchover the dead; but when the mother went to embrace the body of herson, she touched it, and found it was only a figure, of which all theinterior was straw, no heart, nothing. The witches had stolen awaythe boy, and left in his place a straw-stuffed image. I ask you--it isimpossible not--to believe, that there are women with more than mortalknowledge, nocturnal women, who can make that which is uppermostdownmost. But our tall hero after this was never again of his owncolour; indeed, after a few days, he died raving. '

 1 Free boys wore long hair. A Chian life is a delicate and luxurious life. Trimalchio implies that, though he began life as a slave, he was a pet in the household, and was treated as if he had been free. 

'We wondered and believed, ' says a guest who heard the story, 'andkissing the table, we implored the nocturnals to keep themselves tothemselves, while we were returning from supper. '

_Miss Gryll. _ Those are pleasant stories, doctor; and the peculiar styleof the narrators testifies to their faith in their own marvels. Still, as you say, they are not ghost stories. 

_Lord Curryfin. _ Shakespeare's are glorious ghosts, and would make goodstories, if they were not so familiarly known. There is a ghost much tomy mind in Beaumont and Fletcher's _Lover's Progress_. Cleander has abeautiful wife, Calista, and a friend, Lisander, Calista and Lisanderlove each other, _en tout bien, tout honneur_. Lisander, in self-defenceand in fair fight, kills a court favourite, and is obliged to concealhimself in the country. Cleander and Dorilaus, Calista's father, travelin search of him. They pass the night at a country inn. The jovial hosthad been long known to Cleander, who had extolled him to Dorilaus; buton inquiring for him they find he has been dead three weeks. They callfor more wine, dismiss their attendants, and sit up alone, chatting ofvarious things, and, among others, of mine host, whose skill on the luteand in singing is remembered and commended by Cleander. While they aretalking, a lute is struck within; followed by a song, beginning

 'Tis late and cold, stir up the fire, -- Sit close, and draw the table nigher: Be merry! and drink wine that's old. 

And ending

 Welcome, welcome, shall go round, And I shall smile, though underground. 

And when the song ceases, the host's ghost enters. They ask him why heappears. He answers, to wait once more on Cleander, and to entreat acourtesy--

 --to see my body buried In holy ground: for now I lie unhallowed, By the clerk's fault: let my new grave be made Amongst good fellows, that have died before me, And merry hosts of my kind. 

Cleander promises that it shall be done; and Dorilaus, who is a merryold gentleman throughout the play, adds--

And forty stoops of wine drank at thy funeral. 

Cleander asks him--

Is't in your power, some hours before my death, To give me warning?

The host replies--

 I cannot tell you truly: But if I can, so much on earth I loved you, I will appear again. 

In a subsequent scene the ghost forewarns him, and he is soon afterassassinated: not premeditatedly, but as an accident, in the workingout, by subordinate characters, of a plot to bring into question thepurity of Calista's love for Lisander. 

_Miss Ilex. _ In my young days ghosts were so popular that the firstquestion asked about any new play was, Is there a ghost in it? The_Castle Spectre_ had set this fashion. It was one of the first playsI saw, when I was a very little girl. The opening of the folding-doorsdisclosing the illuminated oratory; the extreme beauty of the actresswho personated the ghost; the solemn music to which she moved slowlyforward to give a silent blessing to her kneeling daughter; and thechorus of female voices chanting _Jubilate;_ made an impression on mewhich no other scene of the kind has ever made. That is my ghost, but Ihave no ghost story worth telling. 

_Mr. Falconer. _ There are many stories in which the supernatural is onlyapparent, and is finally explained. But some of these, especially thenovels of Brockden Brown, carry the principle of terror to its utmostlimits. What can be more appalling than his _Wielandt_ It is one of thefew tales in which the final explanation of the apparently supernaturaldoes not destroy or diminish the original effect. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Generally, I do not like that explaining away. I canaccord a ready faith to the supernatural in all its forms, as I do tothe adventures of Ulysses and Orlando. I should be sorry to see theenchantments of Circe expounded into sleights of hand. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ I agree with you, _Miss Gryll. _ I do not like tofind a ghost, which has frightened me through two volumes, turned into aCock Lane ghost in the third. 

_Miss Gryll. _ We are talking about ghosts, but we have not a ghoststory. I want a ghost story. 

_Miss Niphet. _. I will try to tell you one, which I rememberimperfectly. It relates, as many such stories do, to a buried treasure. An old miser had an only daughter; he denied himself everything, buthe educated her well, and treated her becomingly. He had accumulated atreasure, which he designed for her, but could not bear the thoughtof parting with it, and died without disclosing the place of itsconcealment. The daughter had a lover, not absolutely poor, nor muchremoved from it. He farmed a little land of his own, When her fatherdied, and she was left destitute and friendless, he married her, andthey endeavoured by economy and industry to make up for the deficienciesof fortune. The young husband had an aunt, with whom they sometimespassed a day of festival, and Christmas Day especially. They werereturning home late at night on one of these occasions; snow was on theground the moon was in the first quarter, and nearly setting. Crossing afield, they paused a moment to look on the beauty of the starry sky; andwhen they again turned their eyes to the ground, they saw a shadowon the snow; it was too long to have any distinct outline; but nosubstantial form was there to throw it. The young wife clung tremblingto the arm of her husband. The moon set, and the shadow disappeared. NewYear's Day came, and they passed it at the aunt's. On their return themoon was full, and high in heaven. They crossed the same field, notwithout hesitation and fear. In the same spot as before they againsaw the shadow; it was that of a man in a large loose wrapper, anda high-peaked hat. They recognised the outline of the old miser. The husband sustained his nearly fainting wife; as their eyes wereirresistibly fixed on it, it began to move, but a cloud came over themoon, and they lost sight of it. The next night was bright, and the wifehad summoned all her courage to follow out the mystery; they returned tothe spot at the same hour; the shadow again fell on the snow, and againit began to move, and glided away slowly over the surface of the snow. They followed it fearfully. At length it stopped on a small mound inanother field of their own farm. They walked round and round it, but itmoved no more. The husband entreated his wife to remain, while he soughta stick to mark the place. When she was alone, the shadow spread out itsarms as in the act of benediction, and vanished. The husband found herextended on the snow; he raised her in his arms; she recovered, andthey walked home. He returned in the morning with a pickaxe and spade, cleared away the snow, broke into the ground, and found a pot of gold, which was unquestionably their own. And then, with the usual end of anurse's tale, 'they lived happily all the rest of their lives. '

_Miss Ilex. _ Your story, though differing in all other respects, remindsme of a ballad in which there is a shadow on the snow, Around it, and round, he had ventured to go, But no form that had life threw that stamp on the snow. {1}

_Mr. Gryll. _ In these instances the shadow has an outline, without avisible form to throw it. I remember a striking instance of shadowswithout distinguishable forms. A young chevalier was riding through aforest of pines, in which he had before met with fearful adventures, when a strange voice called on him to stop. He did not stop, and thestranger jumped up behind him. He tried to look back, but could notturn his head. They emerged into a glade, where he hoped to see in themoonlight the outline of the unwelcome form. But 'unaccountable shadowsfell around, unstamped with delineations of themselves. '{2}

 1 Miss Bannerman's _Tales of Superstition and Chivalry_. 

 2 _The Three Brothers_, vol. Iv. P. 193. 

_Miss Gryll. _ Well, Mr. MacBorrowdale, have you no ghost story for us?

_Mr. MacBorrowdale. _ In faith, Miss Gryll, ghosts are not much in myline: the main business of my life has been among the driest matters offact; but I will tell you a tale of a bogle, which I remember from myboyish days. 

There was a party of witches and warlocks assembled in the refectory ofa ruined abbey, intending to have a merry supper, if they could get thematerials. They had no money, and they had for servant a poor bogle, who had been lent to them by his Satanic majesty, on condition that heshould provide their supper if he could; but without buying or stealing. They had a roaring fire, with nothing to roast, and a large stone table, with nothing on it but broken dishes and empty mugs. So the firelightshone on an uncouth set of long hungry faces. Whether there was amongthem 'ae winsome wench and wawlie, ' is more than I can say; but mostprobably there was, or the bogle would scarcely have been so zealousin the cause. Still he was late on his quest. The friars of a stillnourishing abbey were making preparations for a festal day, and haddespatched a man with a cart to the nearest town, to bring them a supplyof good things. He was driving back his cart well loaded with beef, andpoultry, and ham; and a supply of choice rolls, for which a goodwifein the town was famous; and a new arrival of rare old wine, a specialpresent to the Abbot from some great lord. The bogle having smelt outthe prize, presented himself before the carter in the form of a sailorwith a wooden leg, imploring charity, The carter said he had nothing forhim, and the sailor seemed to go on his way. He reappeared in variousforms, always soliciting charity, more and more importunately everytime, and always receiving the same denial. At last he appeared asan old woman, leaning on a stick, who was more pertinacious in herentreaties than the preceding semblances; and the carter, afterasseverating with an oath that a whole shipload of beggars must havebeen wrecked that night on the coast, reiterated that he had nothing forher. 'Only the smallest coin, master, ' said the old woman. 'I have nocoin, ' said the carter. 'Just a wee bite and sup of something, ' said theold woman; 'you are scarcely going about without something to eat anddrink; something comfortable for yourself. Just look in the cart: I amsure you will find something good. ' 'Something, something, something, 'said the carter; 'if there is anything fit to eat or drink in the cart, I wish a bogle may fly away with it. ' 'Thank you, ' said the bogle, andchanged himself into a shape which laid the carter on his back, withhis heels in the air. The bogle made lawful prize of the contents of thecart. The refectory was soon fragrant with the odour of roast, and theold wine flowed briskly, to the great joy of the assembly, who passedthe night in feasting, singing, and dancing, and toasting Old Nick. 

 But Tarn kend what was whni fu' brawlie: There was ae winsome wend and wawlie, Thai night enlisted in the core, Lang after kend on Carrick shore. --Tam o' Shanter. 

_Miss Gryll. _ And now, Mr. Falconer, you who live in an old tower, amongold books, and are deep in the legends of saints, surely you must have aghost story to tell us. 

_Mr. Falconer_. Not exactly a ghost story. Miss Gryll but there is alegend which took my fancy, and which I taured into a ballad. If youpermit me, I will repeat it. 

The permission being willingly granted, Mr. Falconer closed the seriesof fireside marvels by reciting

 THE LEGEND OF SAINT LAURA

 Saint Larua, in her sleep of death, Preserves beneath the tomb --'Tis willed where what is willed must be--{1} In incorruptability Her beauty and her bloom. So pure her maiden life had been, So free from earthly stain, 'Twas fixed in fate by Heaven's own Queen, That till the earth's last closing scene She should unchanged remain. 

 1 Vuolsi cosi cola dove si puote Ciô che si vuole, e piii non domandare. --Dante. 

 Within a deep sarcophagus Of alabaster sheen, With sculptured lid of roses white, She slumbered in unbroken night, By mortal eyes unseen. Above her marble couch was reared A monumental shrine, Where cloistered sisters, gathering round, Made night and morn the aisle resound With choristry divine The abbess died: and in her pride Her parting mandate said, They should her final rest provide The alabaster couch beside, Where slept the sainted dead. 

 The abbess came of princely race: The nuns might not gainsay: And sadly passed the timid band, To execute the high command They dared not disobey. 

 The monument was opened then: It gave to general sight The alabaster couch alone: But all its lucid substance shone With preternatural tight. They laid the corpse within the shrine! They closed its doors again: But nameless terror seemed to fall, Throughout the livelong night, on all Who formed the funeral train. 

 Lo! on the morrow morn, still closed The monument was found; But in its robes funereal drest, The corpse they had consigned to rest Lay on the stony ground. 

 Fear and amazement seized on all: They called on Mary's aid: And in the tomb, unclosed again, With choral hymn and funeral train, The corpse again was laid. 

 But with the incorruptible Corruption might not rest: The lonely chapel's stone-paved floor Received the ejected corpse once more, In robes funereal drest. 

 So was it found when morning beamed: In solemn suppliant strain The nuns implored all saints in heaven, That rest might to the corpse be given, Which they entombed again. 

 On the third night a watch was kept By many a friar and nun: Trembling, all knelt in fervent prayer, 'Till on the dreary midnight air Rolled the deep bell-toll, 'One'!

 The saint within the opening tomb Like marble statue stood: All fell to earth in deep dismay: And through their ranks she passed away, In calm unchanging mood. 

 No answering sound her footsteps raised Along the stony floor: Silent as death, severe as fate, She glided through the chapel gate, And none beheld her more. 

 The alabaster couch was gone: The tomb was void and bare: For the last time, with hasty rite, Even 'mid the terror of the night, They laid the abbess there. 

 'Tis said the abbess rests not well In that sepulchral pile: But yearly, when the night comes round As dies of 'One' the bell's deep sound She flits along the aisle. 

 But whither passed the virgin saint, To slumber far away, Destined by Mary to endure, Unaltered in her semblance pure, Until the judgment-day?

 None knew, and none may ever know: Angels the secret keep: Impenetrable ramparts bound, Eternal silence dwells around The chamber of her sleep. 

CHAPTER XXXV

REJECTED SUITORS--CONCLUSION

 (Greek passage)

 May the Gods grant what your best hopes pursue, A husband, and a home, with concord true; No greater boon from Jove's ethereal dome Descends, than concord in the nuptial home --Ulysses to Nausicaa, in the sixth book of the Odyssey. 

What passed between Algernon and Morgana, when the twenty-eighth morningbrought his probation to a close, it is unnecessary to relate. Thegentleman being predetermined to propose, and the lady to accept, therewas little to be said, but that little was conclusive. 

Mr. Gryll was delighted. His niece could not have made a choice morethoroughly to his mind. 

[Illustration: All's well that ends well 326-284]

'My dear Morgana, ' he said, 'all's well that ends well. Yourfastidiousness in choice has arrived at a happy termination. And now youwill perhaps tell me why you rejected so many suitors, to whom you hadin turn accorded a hearing. In the first place, what was your objectionto the Honourable Escor A'Cass?{1} He was a fine, handsome, dashingfellow. He was the first in the field, and you seemed to like him. '

 1 To-the-Crows: the Athenian equivalent for our o'-the- Devil: a gambler's journey: not often a long one. 

_Miss Gryll. _ He was too dashing, uncle: he gambled. I did like him, till I discovered his evil propensity. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ To Sir Alley Capel? 'My dear Marcotta, all's well that mixwell. 

_Miss Gryll. _ He speculated; which is only another name for gambling. He never knew from day to day whether he was a rich man or a beggar. Helived in a perpetual fever, and I wish to live in tranquillity. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ To Mr. Ballot?

_Miss Gryll. _ He thought of nothing but politics: he had no feelingof poetry. There was never a more complete negation of sympathy, thanbetween him and me. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ To Sir John Pachyderm?

_Miss Gryll. _ He was a mere man of the world, with no feeling ofany kind: tolerable in company, but tiresome beyond description in atête-à-tête. I did not choose that he should bestow all his tediousnesson me. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ To Mr. Enavant?

_Miss Gryll. _ He was what is called a fast man, and was always talkingof slow coaches. I had no fancy for living in an express train. I liketo go quietly through life, and to see all that lies in my way. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ To Mr. Geront?

_Miss Gryll. _ He had only one fault, but that one was unpardonable. Hewas too old. To do him justice, he did not begin as a lover. Seeing thatI took pleasure in his society, he was led by degrees into fancying thatI might accept him as a husband. I liked his temper, his acquirements, his conversation, his love of music and poetry, his devotion to domesticlife. But age and youth cannot harmonise in marriage. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ To Mr. Long Owen?

_Miss Gryll. _ He was in debt, and kept it secret from me. I thoughthe only wanted my fortune: but be that as it might, the concealmentdestroyed my esteem. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ To Mr. Larvel?

_Miss Gryll. _ He was too ugly. Expression may make plain featuresagreeable, and I tried if daily intercourse would reconcile me to his. But no. His ugliness was unredeemed. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ None of these objections applied to Lord Curryfin?

_Miss Gryll. _ No, uncle; but he came too late. And besides, he soonfound what suited him better. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ There were others. Did any of the same objections apply tothem all?

_Miss Gryll. _ Indeed, uncle, the most of them were nothing; or at best, mere suits of good clothes; men made, as it were, to pattern by thedozen; selfish, frivolous, without any earnest pursuit, or desire tohave one; ornamental drawing-room furniture, no more distinguishable inmemory than a set of chairs. 

_Mr. Gryll. _ Well, my dear Morgana, for mere negations there is noremedy; but for positive errors, even for gambling, it strikes me theyare curable. 

_Miss Gryll. _ No, uncle. Even my limited observation has shown me thatmen are easily cured of unfashionable virtues, but never of fashionablevices. 

Miss Gryll and Miss Niphet arranged that their respective marriagesand those of the seven sisters should be celebrated at the same timeand place. In the course of their castle-building before marriage, MissNiphet said to her intended:

'When I am your wife, I shall release you from your promise of nottrying experiments with horses, carriages, boats, and so forth; but withthis proviso, that if ever you do try a dangerous experiment, it shallbe in my company. '

'No, dear Alice, ' he answered; 'you will make my life too dear to me, to risk it in any experiment. You shall be my guiding star, and the onlyquestion I shall ask respecting my conduct in life will be, Whether itpleases you?'

Some natural tears they shed, but wiped them soon, might have beenapplied to the sisters, when they stepped, on their bridal morning, intothe carriages which were to convey them to the Grange. 

It was the dissipation of a dream too much above mortal frailty, toomuch above the contingencies of chance and change, to be permanentlyrealised. But the damsels had consented, and the suitors rejoiced; andif ever there was a man on earth with 'his saul abune the moon, ' it wasHarry Hedgerow, on the bright February morning that gave him the hand ofhis _Dorothy. _

[Illustration: His saul abune the moon 330-288]

There was a grand _déjeuner_ at Gryll Grange. There were the ninebrides and the nine bridegrooms; a beautiful array of bridesmaids; a fewfriends of Mr. Gryll, Mr. Niphet, Lord Curryfin, and Mr. Falconer; and alarge party at the lower end of the hall, composed of fathers, mothers, and sisters of the bridegrooms of the seven Vestals. None of thebridegrooms had brothers, and Harry had neither mother nor sister;but his father was there in rustic portliness, looking, as Harry hadanticipated, as if he were all but made young again. 

Among the most conspicuous of the party were the Reverend Doctor Opimianand his lady, who had on this occasion stepped out of her domesticseclusion. In due course, the reverend doctor stood up and made aspeech, which may be received as the epilogue of our comedy. 

_The Rev. Dr. Opimian. _ We are here to do honour to the nuptials; first, of the niece of our excellent host, a young lady whom to name is toshow her title to the love and respect of all present; with a younggentleman, of whom to say that he is in every way worthy of her, isto say all that can be said of him in the highest order of praise:secondly, of a young lord and lady, to whom those who had the pleasureof being here last Christmas are indebted for the large share ofenjoyment which their rare and diversified accomplishments, and theirreadiness to contribute in every way to social entertainment, bestowedon the assembled party; and who, both in contrast and congeniality, --forboth these elements enter into perfect fitness of companionship--maybe considered to have been expressly formed for each other: thirdly, ofseven other young couples, on many accounts most interesting to us all, who enter on the duties of married life with as fair expectation ofhappiness as can reasonably be entertained in this diurnal sphere. An old Greek poet says:--'Four things are good for man in this world:first, health; second, personal beauty; third, riches, not dishonourablyacquired; fourth, to pass life among friends. '{1} But thereon says thecomic poet Anaxandrides: 'Health is rightly placed first; but richesshould have been second; for what is beauty ragged and starving?'{2}

 1 (Greek passage) SIMONIDES. 

 2 AthenÆus: 1. Xv. P. 694. 

Be this as it may, we here see them all four: health in its brightestbloom; riches in two instances; more than competence in the other seven;beauty in the brides, good looks as far as young men need them, in thebridegrooms, and as bright a prospect of passing life among friends asever shone on any. Most earnestly do I hope that the promise of theirmarriage morning may be fulfilled in its noon and in its sunset: andwhen I add, may they all be as happy in their partners as I have been, Isay what all who knew the excellent person beside me will feel to bethe best good wish in my power to bestow* And now to the health of thebrides and bridegrooms, in bumpers of champagne. Let all the attendantsstand by, each with a fresh bottle, with only one uncut string. Let allthe corks, when I give the signal, be discharged simultaneously; and wewill receive it as a peal of Bacchic ordnance, in honour of the Power ofJoyful Event, {1} whom we may assume to be presiding on this auspiciousoccasion. 

 1 This was a Roman deity. Invocato hilaro atque prospéra Eventu. --APULEIUS: Metamorph. 1. Iv. 

THE END