(September, 1887) will give a fair notion of the results attained.

The accumulated Assurance Fund amounts to 34,2757. 78. 2d., and during the year 5,4757. 38. 2d, was spent in pensions to aged, assistance to sick, temporary assistance to families, and education. From these figures Godin concludes that "it would be much more easy for our governors (if only they were so disposed) to efface misery in France, than it has been for me to efface it from your ranks."

The gross proceeds during the year

The net divisible balance was therefore 9,7317. 19s. 5d., of which M. Godin took four per cent., one per cent. was paid for the maintenance of scholars in State Schools, two per cent. as rewards for useful inventions, and the whole of the remainder distributed amongst the members as accumulation of share-capital. The total amount repaid to M. Godin by accumulation of shares has been 110,140l. 1s. 7d., more than five-ninths of the whole share-capital.

No wonder that Godin felt proud of his work. In 1886 a writer in the "Spectator" having said that Godin had not touched the fringe of the social problem, he replied, in a letter to the "London Courier": "I believe that when a chief of industry has by association bestowed on a working population of about two thousand persons ease, well-being, and relative

comfort; when by this association he has extended the benefits of mutuality, care and assistance during sickness, and pensions for old age to all the workers who are auxiliaries of the establishment; when he has suppressed misery around himself; I believe that he has taken a great step towards the solution of the social problem, by furnishing an example which it is sufficient to imitate and generalise."

The organization of Industrial Interests in the Association is chiefly vested in the Committee of Management, or Administrative Council, which is chosen by universal suffrage. This Council meets twice a week; once for consultations on business connected with the Industrial Partnership, and questions relating to the work in the factories; and once to discuss any points which may call for attention in the Associated Home, such as food supply. Sub-committees are appointed to over-see the various departments, and the stores are under the control of an officer called theconome. the shops deal wholesale through him, and each presents to him its separate account of receipts and expenditure, which is carefully checked and balanced every week. Various societies, each having its own committee and rules, and each quite independent of the Administrative Council, have charge of different parts of the social economy such as education, sanitation, music, and the clubs and library.

All

There is a Council of Criticism elected by the members, whose duty is to discover and prevent breaches of discipline and order. On the commission of the first offence, a notice signed by this Council is either sent to the offender's lodging, or posted publicly without the culprit's name. On the

second offence the offender is mulcted in a fine which goes to the general fund, and the notice, now bearing hist name, is posted for a time varying with the gravity of the crime. the event of a third offence, the Council have power to inflict further punishment, or even to dismiss the

In

offender from the Association. This power never needs to be exerted, as the shame of public exposure is a sufficient deterrent since the opening of the Familistère there has not been a single police case !

Mr. E. O. Greening, who visited Guise in 1884, gives details showing that up to that time each man had on an average gained 1007. by five years of work, besides having received his regular wages all the time. He also submits examples of cases in which those who had received rewards for exceptional services, or who had been elected as members of the Administrative Council, had saved far greater sum3.

It needs no second glance to see that the workers in M. Godin's fac

tories enjoy what to most mechanics would seem a paradise on earth. By the careful provision for orphans, invalids, and the aged, all anxiety for the future is removed, and that cruel pinching which goes by the name of prudential foresight is rendered unnecessary. Instead of being spread over a space of two or three square miles, their habitations are so placed that an immense gain is made both in time and convenience: they can live, work, visit each other, attend to domestic affairs, do their shopping, and perform all the ordinary avocations of life in all weathers without going from under cover. Since their shops retail the goods at such a price as barely to pay expenses, there is as much facility for the poor as for the rich to lay out their money to good advantage. Their children are well educated without cost, never neglected, always well dressed and neat. Everything in connection with the establishment tends to give honour and dignity to work, and to emancipate the worker.

Arduous as were M. Godin's daily labours, and incessant as were his cares for the welfare of those around him, he found time to interest himself in national politics, and was elected a Member of the General Council of his Department. He was Mayor of Guise during the Franco-Prussian War, and in 1871 was elected Deputy to the National Assembly. He wrote several books on social questions, and in 1878 established a journal, "Le Devoir ", which he conducted till his death.

Having seen the desires of his heart fulfilled at Guise, he had just made up his mind to introduce the same blessings elsewhere, and had announced his intention to found a Familistère at Laeken, when illness seized him, and he expired quite unexpectedly, January 16th, 1888. On the 22nd, the whole population of the Social Palace, about eighteen hundred persons, bathed in tears, followed to the tomb the body of their benefactor and friend.

The Articles of Association gave him the power to name his successor, but he had not done so, preferring to leave everything to the good sense of those whom he had elevated: it is, therefore, satisfactory to learn that these almost unanimously elected his widow, who is now AdministratorGeneral of the Association.

IN Johnson's famous circle of friends were two young men whose names come often in the pages of his biographer, of brilliant minds indeed, but who did absolutely nothing of moment in the world, and whom nevertheless the world regards benignantly for the sake of the love they gave and received from the great man. The mild-hearted, portentous old vision of Johnson seems never so complete and gracious as when attended by these two, above all things else Johnsonians. When the doors swing ajar at the Turk's Head in Gerard Street, in shadowy London; when the "unclubable" Hawkins strides over the threshold, and Hogarth goes by the window with his large nod and smile; when Chamier is there reading, Goldsmith posing in purple silk small-clothes, Reynolds fingering his trumpet, stately Burke and little brisk Garrick stirring the punch in their glasses, and Dr. Johnson rolling about in his chair of state, saying something prodigiously humorous and wise, it is still Bennet Langton and Topham Beauclerk who most give the scene its human, genial lustre, standing behind him, arm inarm. Between him and them was deep and long affection, and the little we know of them has a right to be more for his sake.

Born in 1741, of good family, Bennet Langton as a Lincolnshire lad had read "The Rambler", and conceived the purest enthusiasm for its author. He came to London on the ideal errand of seeking him out, and, thanks to Levett, met the idol of his imagination. Despite the somewhat staggering circumstances of Johnson's attire,-for he had rashly presupposed a stately, fastidious, and well-mannered figure, he paid his vows of fealty, and endeared himself to his new friend for ever. He entered Trinity College, Oxford, in 1757 at

the age of sixteen. The Doctor followed his career at the University with kindly interest, writing to Langton's tutor, "I see your pupil: his mind is as exalted as his stature". He even went down to Oxford to visit his votary, and there, for the first time, came across a part of his destiny in the shape of that strange bird, Mr. Topham Beauclerk, then a handsome scapegrace of eighteen. Johnson shook his head, and wondered at the odd juxtaposition of this Lord of Misrule with the "evangelical goodness" of his admirable Langton. The knowledge that veneration for himself and ardent perusal of his writings had first brought them together, mollified the sapient Doctor; but something more personal yet set Beauclerk for ever in the great man's good graces. Like Langton he was well-bred, urbane, of excellent natural parts, a critic, a student, and a wit. An only son, he was born in 1737, and named after that Topham of Windsor who left a splendid collection of paintings and drawings to his father, Lord Sydney Beauclerk, the third son of the first Duke of St. Alban's. Young Beauclerk, with his aggravating flippancy, his sharp sense, his quiver full of jibes, time-wasting, money-wasting, foreign as Satan and his pomps to his sweetnatured college companion, struck the Doctor in his own political weak spot. The likeness to Charles the Second was enough to disarm Johnson at the very moment when he was calling up his most austere frown: it was enough to turn the vinegar of his wrath to the milk of kindness. No odder or sincerer testimony could he have given to his inexplicable liking for that royal scapegrace, than that he allowed the latter's great-grandson to tease him and tyrannize over him during an entire lifetime. It is not so given to

He

every man in the flesh to attest his allegiance. Mr. Topham Beauclerk literally bewitched Dr. Samuel Johnson: the stolid English moralist enraptured with the antics of a Jack-alantern! He allowed his pranks and quibbles, rejoiced in his taste and literary learning, admired him indiscreetly, followed his whims meekly, expostulated with him almost against his traitorous impulses, and clung to him to the end in perfect fondness and faith. Bennet Langton was a mild young visionary, humane, tolerant, and generous in the extreme; modest and contemplative, averse to dissipation; a perfect talker, a perfect listener, with a smile, sweet as a child's, which lives yet among his kindred on the canvas of Sir Joshua Reynolds. was six feet six inches tall, slenderly built, and apt to stoop from old habits of bookishness. The ladies sat about him in drawing-rooms, said Edmund Burke, like maids around a Maypole! Beauclerk had more gaiety and grace, and domineered every one he knew by sheer force of high spirits. His faults were all on the surface, and easy to be forgiven for the sake of his genuine worth. It was he who most troubled the good Doctor, he for whom he suffered in silence, with whom he wrangled: he whose insuperable taunting promise, never reaching any special development, vexed and disheartened him; yet, perhaps because of these very things, though Bennet Langton was infinitely more to his mind, it was Absalom, once again, whom the old fatherly heart loved best.

Miss Hawkins, in her Memoirs, says: "Were I called on to name the person with whom Johnson might have been seen to the fairest advantage, I should certainly name Mr. Langton". His deferent, suave manner was the best possible foil to the Doctor's extraordinary explosions. He had supreme self-command: no one ever saw him angry; and in most matters of life, as an exact contrast to his beloved friend Beauclerk, apt to take things a shade too seriously.

He was rather inert, mentally and physically, having, moreover, that rarer quality than any which commands success". He wrote, in 1760, a little book of essays entitled "Rustics", which never got beyond the passivity of manuscript. He fulfilled beautifully, adds Miss Hawkins, "the pious injunction of Sir Thomas Browne, to sit quietly in the soft showers of Providence', and might, without injustice, be characterized as utterly unfit for every species of activity". Yet at the call of duty, so nobly was the natural man dominated by his unclouded will, he girded himself to any exertion. Indulgence in wine was natural to him, and he felt its need to sharpen and rouse his intellect; "but the idea of Bennet Langton being what is called 'overtaken'", wrote the same associate, "is too preposterous to be dwelt on ". We have one delicious anecdote to illustrate Langton's Greek serenity. Talking to a company of a chilly forenoon in his own house, he paused to say that the fire might go out, if it lacked attention-a brief, casual, murmurous interruption. He resumed his clear-voiced discourse, breaking presently, and pleading abstractedly, with eye in air: "Pray ring for coals!" All sat quietly amused, looking at the fire, and so little solicitous that straightway Langton was off again, on the stream of his soft eloquence. In a few minutes came another lull: "Did anybody answer that bell?" A general negative. "Did anybody ring that bell.?". A sly shaking of heads. Why the fire will be out!" he sighed. And once more the inspired monody soared among the clouds, at last dropping meditatively to the hearthstone: "Dear, dear! the fire is out".

66

Langton was always the centre of a group, wherever he happened to be, talking delightfully and twirling the oblong gold-mounted snuff-box, which promptly appeared as his conversation began: a conspicuous figure, with his height, his courteous manner, his mild

beauty, and his habit of crossing his arms over his breast, or locking his hands together on his knee. He had a queerness of constitution which seemed to leave him at his lowest ebb every afternoon about two of the clock, forgetful, weary, confused, and with all his ideas dispersed. After a little food, he was himself again. He ran no chance of sustenance at dinner parties, even waiving his delicate appetite, "such was the perpetual flow of his conversation, and such the incessant claim made upon him ".

Johnson valued Langton for his piety, his ancient descent, his amiable behaviour, and his knowledge of Greek: "Who in this town knows anything of Clenardus, sir, but you and I?" he would say, for Langton's enthusiasm had taught him Clenardus's Grammar from cover to cover. In the midst of his talk Langton would fall with charming grace into the "vowelled undertone of the tongue he loved, correcting himself with a smile, a wave of the hands, and his wonted apologetic phrase: "And so it goes on!" in deference to the un-Hellenic ears of his auditors, and in gentle palliation of his own little thoughtlessness. It must have been a satisfaction afterwards to Johnson that his scholarly friend refused to sign the famous Round Robin concerning poor Goldsmith's epitaph, which besought him to "disgrace the walls of Westminster with an English inscription ". For Bennet Langton Johnson had nothing but praise and affectionate ardour. "He is one of those to whom Nature has not spread her volumes, nor uttered her voices in vain". "Earth does not bear a worthier gentleman ". "I know not who will go to Heaven if Langton does not". Yet even with this "angel of a man", as Miss Hawkins names him, the Doctor had one serious and ludicrous quarrel. He considered it the sole grave fault of Langton, that he was too ready to introduce religious discussion into a mixed assembly, where he knew any two of the company would

be scarcely of the same mind. On Boswell's suggestion that Bennet did it for the sake of instruction, Johnson replied angrily that he had no more right to take that means of gaining information, than he had to pit two persons against each other in a duel for the sake of learning the art of self-defence. Some indiscretion of this sort seems to have alienated the friends for the first and last time; unless Croker's conjecture be true that the quarrel which threatened to break a friendship of twenty years' standing arose from Langton's settling his estate by will upon his three sisters. On hearing of this the Great Cham grumbled and fumed, politely applied to the Misses Langton the pertinent title of "three dowdies!" and reiterated, with all the prejudices of feudalism, that " an ancient estate, sir! an ancient estate should always go to the males". Then he belaboured the lawyer who had drawn up the document for his laxity in allowing Langton to pass as one of sound understanding, and remarked sardonically, "I hope he has left me a legacy". Lastly, the entire situation seemed to strike him as so exceedingly comical that he laid hold of a post on his way home, and roared so loud that in the silence of the night his voice could be heard from Temple Bar to Fleet Ditch.

But in due time the breach, whatever the cause, was healed. The Doctor, in writing of it, uses one of his balancing sentences: "We are all that ever we were. Langton, though without malice, is not without resentment". The two could not keep apart very long, despite all the disagreement and all the unreason in the world. Another memorable passage-at-arms happened in the course of one of Johnson's sicknesses, when he solemnly implored Bennet Langton, in the cloistral silence of his chamber, to tell him wherein his life had been faulty. shy and sagacious monitor wrote down for accusation a number of Scriptural texts recommending tolerance,

His