can wait," with a careless wave of her hand in the | we live in oftenest stir the heart of the country to direction in which Corrie moved, deliberately followed by her train. "Corrie has too many admirers to make up her mind speedily, yet she takes it all very quietly. But this is so appropriate, Mr. Spottiswoode's cousin and my cousin, nobody could have planned it better."

like me.

PARLIAMENTARY ORATORY.

its lowest depths, and whose words, faithfully recorded and carried to every corner of their own land and of the world, keep alive in the hearts of our people a traditional pride in their great representative assembly, and make its proceedings an object of unfailing interest and emulous imitation amongst all civilized races of “articulate-speaking men.'

She turned round, and heard a blunt booby of a farmer speaking out his mind. She at once took him up: "You would not have thought it? You Mr. Gladstone possesses the copia dicendi in an cannot comprehend what has come over Bourhope, eminent degree. His wealth of words is marvellous, or what he sees in that thin yellow mite, Miss Hun- and the unfaltering fluency with which they are ter of Blackfaulds, even though she were as good as poured forth. His ideas are also remarkable for a saint, and as wise as the Queen of Sheba? O, clearness, order, and cohesion, and his general treatcome, Balquin, you do not allow sufficient latitude ment of subjects may justly be called exhaustive. to goodness and cleverness. I tell you, Bourhope His divisions are sometimes a little too mechanical, has neither eyes nor ears for anybody but that mite; and one cannot now hear of the regular "three he counts his colorless daisy far before the gayest courses" without a smile. A great element of his painted face. He knows that we are remarking on power as an orator is his intense subjectivity. He them now, and he is holding his head as high as if so identifies himself with his subject, he so makes of he had sought and won a queen. He is right; she it, as it were, a cause to be contended for tanquam will prove a sensible, cheerful wife to him. Bour-pro aris et focis, that the depth of his convictions for hope will have the cleverest, best wife in the coun- the time being gives to his matter a force, and to his ty, for all your swaggering. And that is something manner an earnestness, that never fail to make an when a man comes to be old, and has an old wife, impression. But this subjectivity is also a source of Not old! Balquin? away with you. I weakness when it leads him to propound what seem wish the Provost heard you. Do you think to flat- to him political or economical truths with a dogter me because I am in spirits about my cousin's matical authority that will not brook correction or match? No, it is not lost a friend gets, Balquin." dissent. He seems to convey in so defiant a manThe public of Priorton did not know whether most ner his settled and imperturbable assurance that any to admire Mrs. Spottiswoode's diplomacy, or this one who presumes to differ from him must be wrong, rare instance of poetic justice. and wrong with so hopeless an imbecility in error that further argument would be wasted upon him, that he often fails to convert to his way of thinking men whom a more persuasive and condescending "WHO is the first orator in England?" an egre-style of reasoning would easily gain over. It is ungiously stupid person once asked Lord Brougham. necessary to say how successful has been his manageLord Derby is the second," was the self-conscious ment of the public resources, or how frequently he reply. The querist had, no doubt, forgotten the has taken a Parliamentary majority almost by storm, Henry Brougham who (chiefly heard in later days and gained from all quarters the support of measat Social Science Congresses) had once, as the de- ures which had previously been regarded by many fender of Queen Caroline and the champion of Par-with disfavor. But, nevertheless, we do not conliamentary Reform and Negro Emancipation, made all England ring with his fame. Now, however, though Lord Derby certainly does not stand second as an orator even to Lord Brougham, in the general opinion of Englishmen, it is not at all so clear that the leader of the Tories is the first orator in the country. The "Rupert of debate," whose headlong charges in the Commons sometimes threw the Liberal ranks into confusion, suffers in the Lords not only from the influences of time, which has taken from the timbre of his once so ringing tones, but has also been gradually allowing some of his most remarkable powers to rust from disuse, partly because the atmosphere of the House of Lords is too cool for his native fire, and partly because he never finds in it a foeman worthy of his steel. To extinguish a pretentious Duke of Argyle by a felicitous anecdote, or to banter an amiable Lord Granville, whom the most venomous of opponents could scarcely wish to wound, or to tease Lord Russell by such happy epigrams as "meddle and muddle," is only to bring into play some of the minor qualities of that eloquence, limited, perhaps, in its range, but startling and exciting in its power, for which the Lord Stanley of a former day was so distinguished. But it is in the more popular branch of the legislature that the gift of oratory can be exercised with most facility and freedom, as it is there also that it is most frequently called forth. Thither, therefore, must we turn to find the men whose voices in the days

sider his Budget speeches, as a rule, the best of his oratorical efforts; and the " City men" who sit them out, in order to have the first and fullest exposition of his intended policy, generally complain of weariness at the close. They were more satisfied, on the whole, with Sir George Lewis, wretched speaker as he was; but Mr. Göschen, whenever in the fulness of time he becomes Mr. Gladstone's Chancellor of the Exchequer, will be just the man for them. Mr. Gladstone may be called, we think, the Tennyson of finance; for he brings to his public expositions of it not only the powers of his reason, but also the resources of his imagination, and clothes them with a beauty of diction and richness of illustration which men delight to hear. Still it is not the less true that a simpler treatment would generally be more effective, that the subordinate parts of the subject are sometimes developed, with too much diffuseness, and that the artist often prevails over the statesman in these elaborate efforts. Mr. Gladstone's delivery is very good. His voice, if not powerful, is clear and judiciously modulated, his enunciation distinct, though natural and unaffected, and his gesture, though sparingly used and not remarkably graceful, easy and appropriate.

Mr. Disraeli has few, if any points of contact, and many of contrast, with his great antagonist. His great defect as an orator is the want of that subjectivity of which Mr. Gladstone has rather too much. That Mr. Disraeli is never in earnest it would be unjust

SUPPOSED TO BE HAUNTED.

and absurd to think, and that there are many prin- | in vigorous and telling words. He does not always ciples of public policy which he advocates from con- or often carry the House with him, because he too viction is very probable. But the appearance of frequently shocks the strongest prejudices and most hesitation and effort with which he often speaks deeply-rooted convictions of the majority; but if his gives a disinterested and impartial auditor the im- hearers could divest themselves of personal antipapression that his words are not so much the signs of thies, they would be forced to own that no one his inward ideas, as attempts, sometimes painful and among them better deserves the palm of eloquence. not quite successful, to give expression to opinions Separating the three great men we have named into that are struggling for utterance in the minds of a class of themselves, there are perhaps a dozen others; that he is speaking not exactly what he members, such as Sir Roundell Palmer, Sir Hugh thinks, but rather what others may like to hear, or Cairns, Mr. Roebuck, Mr. Whiteside, Mr. Horsman, he may wish them to believe. We have no doubt, Mr. Lowe, and others, whom we would place in the however, that this hesitation is often affected, and second rank. Lord Stanley, though a first-class we have remarked it at times when it seemed care- statesman, can scarcely be considered an orator at fully designed to give more effect to keen invective all, not merely from his physical defects (which we or biting sarcasm. On comparatively rare occa- may observe in passing he would better overcome by sions, when there is some great personal interest in cultivating the lower notes of his voice), but also the debate, or when the peculiar characteristics of from the too philosophical and didactic tone of his an opponent have led him upon some happy vein of speeches. After all these there comes "a mob of humor, it is very pleasant to hear him. His man- gentlemen who speak with ease," but our subject ner, so often languid and listless, becomes warm and does not, for the present, admit of further illusanimated, his face is lit up with a glow of comic en-trations. joyment, his words come out freely and with a brisker emphasis; and the unhappy wight upon whom he is giving for the time, as it were, an anatomical demonstration, wriggles uncomfortably in his seat, and adds, by his evident sensibility under the operation, to the general amusement. Not long ago, the Times reminded us of the confusion caused in Lord Aberdeen's cabinet by the sort of moral psoriasis with which Lord Russell became afflicted in consequence of one of Mr. Disraeli's sallies. The incident illustrates what we have just been saying, and is worth recalling. When Lord Aberdeen formed his Coalition Ministry, Lord John of course could not be left out, and yet was not able to make up his mind for the acceptance of any subordinate office. It was arranged, then, that for a time at least he should have a seat in the cabinet without office. Everybody said that they would be ruined. But But a man of so active a mind, and who was besides they lived on; by no means rich, but not entirely the leader of the Lower House, was sure to have a poor. As years went by, Mr. Langworth's position great deal of not merely private correspondence, and income improved; though their upward proand, after a while, an office was taken for him in gress was very, very slow. Little legacies, too, came Lancaster Place, near Somerset House. This was in from several quarters; and friends, who had an opportunity for Mr. Disraeli, who very soon took frowned coldly, waxed warm and cordial again. occasion to deplore most feelingly in the House the For the world, at least in this one point, copies the equivocal and incongruous position which a states-example of Heaven, in its preference for helping man of the noble lord's great eminence and services those who help themselves. occupied in the new administration. He really could not imagine what the noble lord's duties were. He had heard of an office being taken for him in Lancaster Place. Perhaps the noble lord had been appointed toll-keeper of Waterloo Bridge. The House was convulsed with merriment; but Lord John took the matter so seriously that a new distribution of government offices had to be made at once, with great indifference to the convenience of the parties displaced, and the Presidency of the Council was the salve with which the wounded dignity of the Great Unemployed was healed.

In the same high rank with Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Disraeli, as a public speaker, Mr. Bright has undoubtedly a right to be placed. He does not speak nearly so often in Parliament as either, but his style of oratory, either there or at public meetings, abstracted from the subject-matter of his speeches, is as worthy of admiration and imitation as almost any model in our language. As distinguished from Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Bright's best efforts have more of Demosthenic power and concentration than of Ciceronian copiousness and finish. His English is pure, terse, nervous, and masculine, clothing earnest thoughts

EVERYBODY said that Mr. and Mrs. Langworth, in marrying each other, had done the most foolish of all the foolish things which fate had put within their power. Their united ages were little over forty, and their united incomes nothing over four hundred; and everybody said that they might have been rich asunder, had they not been so anxious to be happy together. He, a gentleman in the civil service, might have married into a family who could have made his promotion rapid and easy; she, a decided beauty, might have won a husband who could have lodged her in Belgravia.

The Langworths had been married over twenty years, when, lo and behold! a great-aunt of Mr. Langworth's, who had railed against his marriage more bitterly than any one else, left him (at her death) a fortune little under fifty thousand pounds.

Of course it brought them much joy; but also some anxiety. For one thing: should they live in town, as hitherto? or, as they had very often said they would do, in the improbable event of their becoming rich, retire into the country? Much was to be said on either side. They had grown accustomed to London, and in London were their most cherished friends. And Mr. Langworth's official income, now five hundred a year, was worth keeping, even with their newly-acquired wealth. On the other hand, the young people (there were four or five, I forget which) were all anxious for the country; and in the country the parents had passed their early days. Knowing how many retired rich men have rued the day when they quitted London and its toils, Mr. Langworth determined on giving the country a fair trial, still leaving open the chance of returning to his occupation in town. He obtained three months' leave of absence from his office.

Every Saturday,
March 10, 1866.)

SUPPOSED TO BE HAUNTED.

From his narrow means he had hitherto had few one. holidays, and had much claim to indulgence.

Then he set about inquiring for a remote country house, in which, with his family, he might pass the vacant time, and put to the test the (possibly) exaggerated attractions of a rural life.

The solicitor whom he consulted said he supposed Mr. Langworth would wish the house he took to be within easy distance of the metropolis.

"ObNo, not by any means," said the client. we all want to give the counserve! I want try a fair trial. To do that, we had better take a rather out-of-the-way place: seven miles from a market-town would be just as well.' "Are you particular about rent? "Why

99

yes-I am. People have been ruined, ere now, by inheriting a fortune, and got to fancy that they had Aladdin's lamp! That, I am resolved, I want-not a mansion, shall never be our case. but such a house as, if we do decide for the country, we shall buy or build for ourselves."

"Well, I do know of a house, in which you might live for three months, and longer, I dare say, if you choose, for nothing."

"Hem! How much is nothing'?"

"I mean, literally, nothing. When I tell you the name of the house you'll not think it quite so surprising. It's Garrow Hall."

"What! the Garrow Hall?"

"The same, and no other. Ever since the murder no one has lived there. It belongs to the sister of the former owner, and the supposed murderer. You remember the case, of course? Many people would have paid a hundred a year for it; for it 's a very good house, in a very pretty country, and not seven miles from a town; but there's no getting servants to live there. And poor Miss Durham would be only too grateful to any one who, by living there for a time, would dissipate all the superstition attaching to it. You can't wonder that she does n't like to live in it herself. All the village people say it's haunted; and have, of course, twenty thousand stories of what has been seen and heard about it at - and such stuff. You, of course, could bring night, your servants from London. You'll find the house in very good order; for, with such prejudices against it, of course it was necessary to give it the benefit of all possible attractions. But even the old people who take care of it in the daytime would n't stay during the night; not, I do believe, if by so doing they might make it their own."

After a little more talk, Mr. Langworth agreed that application should be made for a three months' tenancy of the house. Not to lose time, he would himself travel down at once into Somersetshire (Garrow Hall was in that county), and arrange for the reception of his family.

"You'll find a comfortable bedroom all ready, "The only hardship is I know," said the lawyer. having to sleep in the house alone; but you're not Only, my dear sir, be sure nervous, I am aware. and get there a few hours before dark; for should it be night when you get there, why, you might offer all your aunt's money to induce somebody to go to the Hall with you, and I don't think you'd get any one to do it. I don't, upon my word and honor, I don't."

But even crimes are forgotten at last; and, for those who read the singular adventures to be shortly recorded, it may be needful to recall the events which had given Garrow its dark and fearful celebrity.

Some three or four years before Mr. Langworth's
accession to fortune, Garrow Hall had been tenant-
brother of the lady mentioned above. Attached to
ed, as well as owned, by a Mr. Nicholas Durham,
the house was an estate, yielding some sixteen or
eighteen hundred a year, which came to Mr. Dur-
ham through his mother, the heiress of the Garrow
longer so wealthy or so important as they had once.
family, a family of great antiquity, but now no
been. Nicholas and his sister had been born in
Fortunately, as was
India, in which country their mother had also died.
Nicholas had married well.

then thought, he possessed an estate independently
of his father, who was generally believed to be part-
ly, if not wholly, dependant on him for a main-

tenance.

At the date of his marriage he was just nine-and-
His maternal grandfather,
who had in great measure brought him up, and
twenty years of age.
from whom he inherited Garrow, had died only a
year or two before. His sister Emily, left with a
Continent.
small annuity, lived mostly with her father on the

Nicholas and his wife had been united some six
or seven months, and as far as was afterwards as-
certained by strictest inquiry, had lived on most
affectionate terms. It wanted a week to Christmas
day. A party of friends were to keep Christmas at
On the fatal day, the 18th of Decem-
Garrow, but as yet the husband and wife were en-
tirely alone.
ber, Mr. Durham dined with his wife at six o'clock,
When without company, it was their habit to
their ordinary hour, and behaved as usual at dinner.
occupy the dining-room for the whole evening; and
they did so on this occasion.

These, and other particulars, to which the coming event imparted a fearful interest, were all given in evidence by the servant who waited on them at table.

The same servant deposed, that by his nearest guess, the hour was half past seven when a ring summoned him to the front door.

He opened it to admit a tall gentleman, with black whiskers and moustaches, and whose age, to gentleman asked to see Mr. Durham, and was all appearance, was between forty and fifty. The about to put a card into his hand (so he thought), when his master came out from the dining-room in person. The man thought Mr. Durham's face ex(the pressed some annoyance at the visit; he, however, did both together. About ten minutes later invited the stranger to enter the library, which they pantry in which he was at work was close to the hall) - he heard his master cross back from the library to the dining-room, and return, accompanied by his wife, to the former apartment.

He thought it could not be more than five minutes after that ere the bell summoned him into the library. He answered it at once, but found his master and mistress, with the stranger, already in between Mr. Durham and his wife a glance made the hall. That there was some dispute going on As the witness Garrow Hall was known by name to many Eng-clear to him. To all appearance, her husband was The she firmly, almost angrily, refused. lishmen who had never so much as heard the names trying to persuade Mrs. Durham to something which of Windsor Castle or St. James's Palace. horrible tragedy which had given it such a reputa- entered the hall he heard her say, "I owe the duty tion was, at that time, fresh in the memory of every to another, and I will not consent to it," or words

to that effect. Then she took a candle from the | any mystery there were hall table, lighted it, and went up stairs. Mr. Dur- dispelled. ham turned to his servant, and said, “I rang for Miss Durham, from a sense as much of duty as of you to show this gentleman out; but I'll see him inclination, intended one day to assume the position out myself; you can go." which, by her brother's terrible fate (self-inflicted or not), had devolved upon herself. At present the thought of living at Garrow was too painful for her. It would make it far less repulsive could she give it an interval of peaceful occupation, and not feel, when she came, that the very last act performed in it had been the most terrible of crimes. She was for the present in Germany, in company (as was supposed) with her father.

That no sound like a whisper met his ear was, to Mr. Langworth, a strong evidence that the intruder was alone. And the little care he took to perform his work silently-presently breaking a pane of glass, and scattering its fragments on the gravel Well acquainted-as who was not at that time? seemed to show that he believed the house to be yet ily, Mr. Langworth knew that the name appended - with all particulars respecting the Durham famuntenanted. He did the work very quickly, not caring to do it quietly. And, in not many minutes, suicide and murderer. Not thinking it wise to into the cipher was that of the father of the supposed the bold burglar entered the room: No one was with him. He carried a "bull's-eye" lantern; and, crease the horror with which the house already inwhen first its light fell on his face and figure, it dis-spired them, he left the old couple, who returned played a tall man with more youth in his figure