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utes? If you think what a dismal their oars and floated down with the sequence was that Commander Wode little story mine has been — sent away | stream when they had gone as far as house got his leave extended to three without seeing her a year ago, then
months, and was transferred from raised into sudden hope by our chance hill again to the White House in a the China station to the Mediterra meeting the other morning, and now, perfect bower of wild flowers, though nean. Mr. Incledon never told tbem I suppose, sentenced to banishment | ihe delicate rose blossoms began to who was the author of this benefit. forever"
droop in the warm grasp of the children though I think they had little difficulty “ Stay a little,” she said ; “ I have before they got home. When they in guessing. He sent Rose a parure had a very exciting day, and I am | rushed in, flooding the house all of pearls and turquoises, simple enough wad much worn out. Must you go in ten through and through with their voices for her youth and the position she le mere days ?”
and their joyous breath and their | had preferred to his, and sent the « Alas!" said Wodehouse, “and flowers, they found all the rooms diamonds which had been reset for a no even my poor fortnight got with such empty, the drawing-room silent, in a | her back to his bankers; and then be difficulty — though perhaps on the green repose, and not a creature | went abroad. He did not go back to seeds whole it is better, Mrs. Damerel.” visible. But while Agatha rushed up | Whitton, even for necessary arrange
* Yes," she said, “have patience a stairs, calling upon her mother and ments, but sent for all he wanted; moment; things have turned out very Rose, Mr. Nolan saw a sight from the and after that morning's work in the differently from what I wished. I window wbich set his mind at rest. White House, returned to Dinglefield cannot pretend to be pleased, scarcely Two young figures together, one lean- | no more for years. resigned to what you have all done be ing on the other — two heads bent! After this there was no possible tween you. You have nothing to offer close, talking too low for any hearing reason for delay, and Rose was married my daughter, nothing ! and she has but their own. The curate looked at to her sailor in the parish church by nothing to contribute on her side. It them with a smile and a sigh. They good Mr. Nolan, and instead of any is all selfish inclination, what you liked, had attained the height of blessedness. other wedding tour went off to cruise not what was best, that has swayed What better could the world give with him in the Mediterranean. She te you. You had not self-denial enough them ? and yet the good curate's sigh bad regained her bloom, and merited to keep silent; she had not self-denial was not all for the disappointed, nor ber old name again before the day enough to consider that this is not a his smile for their happiness alone. of the simple wedding. Happiness thing for a day but for life ; and the | The lovers were bappy; but there brought back color and fragrance to consequences, I suppose, as usual, will are drawbacks to every mortal felic- the Rose in June ; but traces of the fall upon me. All my life I have had | ity. The fact that Edward had but storin that had almost crusbed her nothing to do but toil to make up for nine days left, and that their fate never altogether disappeared, from her the misfortunes caused by self-indul must after that be left in obscurity, heart at least, if they did from her face. gence. Others have had their will was, as may be supposed, a very se- | She cried over Mr. Incledon's letter and pleasure, and I have paid the rious drawback to their happiness. the day before she became Edward penalty. I thought for once it might But their good fortune did not forsake Wodehouse's wife. She kissed the tur. have been different, but I have been them; or rather, to speak more truly, quoises when she fastened them about mistaken, as you see.”
the disappointed lover did not forsake her pretty neck. Love is the best, no “You forget that I have no clue the girl who had appealed to him, who doubt ; but it would be hard if to to your meaning - that you are speak had mortified and tortured him, and other sentiments, less intense, even a ing riddles," said Wodehouse, whose promised with all the unconscious cru bride might not spare a tear. depressed heart bad begun to rise and elty of candor to marry him if he told | As for the mothers on either side, flutter and thump against his young her to do so. Mr. 'Incledon went they were both indifferently satisfied. breast.
straight to town from the White House, Mrs. Wodehouse would not unbend so " Ah; that is true," said Mrs. Dame intent on finishing the work he had much for months after as to say any. rel, rising with a sigh. “Well, I wash begun. He had imposed on Mrs. Dame thing but “ Good morning" to Mrs. my hands of it; and for the rest you rel as a duty to him, as a recompense | Damerel, who had done her best to will prefer to hear it from Rose rather for all tbat he had suffered at her hands, I make her boy unhappy ; and as for than from me."
the task of receiving Wcdehouse, and the marriage, now that it was accomHe stood in the middle of the room sanctioning the love which her daugh- / plished after so much fuss and bother, speechless when she closed the door ter had given ; and he went up to it was after all nothing of a match for behind her, and heard her soft steps town to the Admiralty, to his friend | Edward. Mrs. Damerel, on her side, going in regular measure through the whose unfortunate leniency bad per-| was a great deal too proud to offer any still house, as Rose had heard them mitted the young sailor' to return explanations except such as were abonce. How still it was! the leaves home. Mr. Incledon treated the mat solutely necessary to those few influenfluttering at the open window, the ter lightly, making a joke of it. “I tial friends who must be taken into birds singing, Mrs. Damerel's footsteps told you he was not to come home, every one's confidence who desires to sounding fainter, his heart beating | but to be sent off as far as possible," | keep a place in society. Sbe told louder. But he had not very long to he said.
those confidants frankly enough that
" Wby, what harm could the poor Edward and Rose had met accident Mr. Nolan and the children went young fellow do in a fortnight?” said tally, and that a youthful love, supout on the river, and rowed up that my lord. “I find I knew his father posed to be over long ago, had burs long, lovely reach past Alfredsbury, - a fine fellow and a good officer. forth again 80 warmly that nothing skirting the bank, which was pink The son shall be kept in mind, both could be done but to tell Mr. Jncledon ; with branches of the wild rose and for his sake and yours."
and that he had behaved like a hero. sweet with the feathery flowers of the “He has done all the harm that The Green for a little while was very Queen of the Meadows. Dick flat | was apprehended in his fortnigbt,” | angry at Rose ; the ladies shook their tered himself that he pulled an excel- | said Mr. Incledon, " and now you | heads at her, and said how very, very lent bow, and the curate, who loved must give him an extension of leave | bard it was on poor Mr. Incledon. the children's chatter, and themselves, - enough to be married in. There's But Mr. Incledon was gone, and humored the boy to the top of his bent. nothing else for it. You ought to do Whitton shut up, while Rose still reAgatha steered, and felt it an impor your best for him, for it is your fault.” | mained with all the excitement of a tant duty, and Patty, who had noth Upon which my lord, who was of a pretty wedding in prospect, and “a ing else to do, leaned her weight over genial nature, laughed and inquired | perfect romance " in the shape of s the side of the boat, and did her best into the story, which Mr. Incledon | love-story. Gradually, therefore, the to capsize it, clutching at the wild roses related to him after a fashion, in a way I girl was forgiven ; the richer neighand the meadow-queen. They shipped wbich amused him bugely. The con- / bors went up to town and bought their
presents, the poorer ones looked over their stores to see she said to her husband, when he returned. “I hope she is what they could give, and the girls made pieces of lace for a good woman, and will make him happy." her, and pin-cushions, and antimacassars ; and thus her « Yes,” said Captain Wodehouse," he is a good fellow, offence was condoned by all the world. Though Mrs. Da and deserves to be bappy; and now you can be comfortmerel asked but a few people to the breakfast, the church able, my dear, for you see he has consoled himself," he was crowded to see the wedding, and all the gardens in added, with a laugh. the parish cut their best roses for its decoration ; for this event occurred in July, the end of the rose season. Dinglefield church overflowed with roses, and the bridesmaids' dresses were trimmed with them, and every man in the FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD. place had some sort of a rosebud in his coat. And thus it was, half smothered in roses, that the young people went CHAPTER XXXVI. WEALTH IN JEOPARDY : THE REVEL. диау.
Mr. Incledon was not heard of for years after; but quite One night at the end of August, when Bathsheba's exlately he came back to Whitton married to a beautifulperiences as a married woman were still new, and when Italian lady, for whose sake it was originally, as Rumor the weather was yet dry and sultry, a man stood motionless whispered, that he had remained unmarried so long. This in the stack-yard of Weatherbury Upper Farm, looking at lady had niarried and forsaken him nearly twenty years the moon and sky. before, and had become a widow about the time that he The night bad a sinister aspect. A heated breeze from left England. I hope, therefore, that though Rose's sweet the south slowly fanned the summits of lofty objects, and youth and freshness had attracted him to her, and though in the sky dashes of buoyant cloud were sailing in a course be bad regarded her with deep tenderness, hoping perbaps at right angles to that of another stratum, neither of them for a new, subdued, yet happy life through her means, in the direction of the breeze below. The moon, as seen there had been little passion in him to make his wound through these films, had a lurid, metallic look. The fields bitter after the mortification of the moment. The contessa were sallow with the impure light, and all were tinged in was a woman of his own age, who had been beautiful, and monochrome, as if beheld through stained glass. The was magnificent, a regal kind of creature, at home amid same evening the sheep had trailed homeward head to tail, all the luxuries which his wealth provided, and filling a the behavior of the rooks had been confused, and the very different position from anything that could have been horses bad moved with timidity and caution. attainable by Rose. They dazzle the people on the Green Thunder was imminent, and, taking some secondary apwhen they are at Whitton, and the contessa is as gracious pearances into consideration, it was likely to be followed and more inaccessible tban any queen. She smiles at them by one of the lengthened rains which mark the close of dry all benignly, and thinks them an odd sort of gentle savages, weather for the season. Before twelve hours had passed a talking over their heads in a voice which is louder and harvest atmosphere would be a bygone thing. rounder than suits with English notions. And it is re Oak gazed with misgiving at eight naked and unproported generally that Mr. Incledon and his foreign wife are tected ricks, massive and heavy with the rich produce of * not happy." I cannot say anything about this, one way one half the farm for that year. He went on to the barn. or another, but I am sure that the happiness he shares with This was the night which had been selected by Sergeant the contessa must be something of a very different character Troy - ruling now in the room of his wife — for giving the from that which he would have had with Rose ; higher, harvest-supper and dance. As Oak approached i be buildperhaps, as mere love (you all say) is the highest; but | ing, the sound of violins and a tambourine, and the regular different - and in some things, perhaps, scarcely so homely jigging of niany feet, grew more distinct. He came close sweet.
to the large doors, one of which stood slightly ajar, and When Rose heard of this, which she did in the barbor of I looked in. an Italian port, she was moved by interest so true and lively The central space, together with the recess at one end, that her husband was almost jealous. She read her was emptied of all encumbrances, and this area, covering mother's letter over and over, and could not be done talk about two thirds of the whole, was appropriated for the ing of it. Captain Wodehouse after a while had to go on gathering, the remaining end, which was piled to the ceil. shore, and his wife sat on the deck while the blue waves ing with oats, being screened off with sail-cloth. Tufts grew bluer and bluer with evening under the great ship, and and garlands of green foliage decorated the walls, beams, the Italian sky lost its bloom of sunset, and the stars came and extemporized chandeliers, and immediately opposite to out in the magical heavens. What a lovely scene it was, Oak a rostrum bad been erected, bearing a table and the lights in the houses twinkling and rising tier on tier, chairs. Here sat three fiddlers, and beside them stood a the little lamps quivering at the mastheads, the stars in the frantic man with his hair on end, perspiration streaming
down his cheeks, and a tambourine quivering in his hand. Rose shut her soft eyes, which were wet, - was it with The dance ended, and on the black oak floor in the dew? - and saw before her not the superb, Genoa and midst a new row of couples formed for another. the charmed Italian night but the little Green with its sun “Now, ma'am, and no offence I hope, I ask what dance burnt grass and the houses standing round, in each one you would like next?" said the first violin. of which friendly eyes were shining. She saw the green “ Really, it makes no difference," said the clear voice of old drawing-room of the White House, and the look he Bathsheba, who stood at the inner end of the building, obcast upon her as he turned and went away. That was the serving the scene from behind a table covered with cups day when the great happiness of her life came upon her ; and viands. Troy was lolling beside her. and yet she had lost something, she could not tell what, “ Then," said the fiddler, “I'll venture to name that the when Mr. Incledon went away. And now he was married, right and proper thing is · The Soldier's Joy'-- there beand to his old love, some one who had gone before her. ing a gallant soldier married into the farm-hey, my sonBelf in his heart, and came after her, and was its true owner. nies, and gentlemen all?" Rose shed a few tears quite silently in the soft night, which " It shall be • The Soldier's Joy,'” exclaimed a chorus. did not betray her. ller heart contracted for a moment “ Thanks for the compliment,” said the sergeant gayly, with a strange pang - was sbe jealous of this unknown taking Bathsheba by the band and leading her to the top woman? " God bless him!” she said to herself, with a of the dance. “For though I bave purchased my discharge little outburst of emotion. Did not she owe him all she from Her Most Gracious Majesty's regiment of cavalry, the had in the world ? good right bad Rose to bid “God bless 11th Dragoon Guards, to atiend to the new duties awaitbim!" nevertheless there was an undisclosed shade of feel ing me here, I shall continue a soldier in spirit and feeling ing which was not joy in his happiness, lingering in her as long as I live.” heart.
So ibe dance began. As to the merits of “The Soldier's “Do you think we could find out who this contessa is ?', Joy,” there cannot be, and never were, two opinions. It
has been observed in the musical circles of Weatherbury | Oak sat down meditating for nearly an hour. During and its vicinity that this melody, at the end of three this time two black spiders, of the kind common in thatched quarters of an hour of thunderous footing, still possesses | houses, promenaded the ceiling, ultimately dropping to the more stimulative properties for the heel and toe than the | floor. This reminded him that if there was one class of majority of other dances at their first opening. “The manifestation on this matter that he thoroughly underSoldier's Joy" bas, too, an additional charm, in being so stood, it was tbe instincts of sheep. He left the room, ran admirably adapted to the tambourine aforesaid — no mean across two or three fields towards the flock, got upon a instrument in ihe hands of a performer who understands hedge, and looked over among them. the proper convulsions, spasms, St. Vitus's dances, and They were crowded close together on the other side, fearful frenzies necessary when exhibiting its tones in their around some furze bushes, and the first peculiarity observ. highest perfection.
able was that, on the sudden appearance of Oak's head 'The immortal tune ended, a fine D D rolling forth from over the fence, they did not stir or run away. They had the bass-viol with the sonorousness of a cannonade, and now a terror of something greater than their terror of man. Gabriel delayed his entry no longer. He avoided Bath But this was not the 'most noteworthy feature : they were sheba, and got as near as possible to the platform, where all grouped in such a way that their tails, without a single Sergeant Troy was now seated, drinking brandy-and- exception, were towards that half of the horizon from which water, though the others drank without exception cider the storm threatened. There was an inner circle closely and ale. Gabriel could not easily thrust himself within huddled, and outside these they radiated wider apart, the speaking distance of the sergeant, and he sent a message, 1 pattern formed by the flock as a whole being not unlike a asking him to come down for a moment. The sergeant vandyked lace collar, to which the clump of furze-bushes said he could not attend.
| stood in the position of a wearer's neck. “ Will you tell him, then," said Gabriel, “ that I only This was enough to reëstablish him in his original opinstepped ath'art to say that a heavy rain is sure to fall soon, ion. He knew now that he was right, and that Troy was and ihat something should be done to protect the ricks?" wrong. Every voice in nature was unanimous in bespeak.
“Mr. Troy says it will not rain,” returned the messen- | ing change. But two distinct translations attached to ger, “ and he cannot stop to talk to you about such fidgets." these dumb expressions. Apparently there was to be a
In juxtaposition with Troy, Oak had a melancholy tend thunder-storm, and afterwards a cold, continuous rain. ency to look like a candle beside gas, and ill at ease, he The creeping things seemed to know all about the latter went out again, thinking he would go home ; for, under the rain, but little of the interpolated thunder-storm ; whilst circumstances, he had no heart for the scene in the barn. the sbeep knew all about the thunder-storm and nothing of At the door he paused for a moment; Troy was speaking : , the latter rain.
“ Friends, it is not only the Ilarvest Ilome that we are ] This complication of weathers, being uncommon, was all celebrating to-night; but this is also a Wedding Feast. A the more to be feared. Oak returned to the stack yard. short time ago I bad the happiness to lead to the altar this | All was silent here, and the conical tips of the ricks jutted lady, your mistress, and not until now have we been able 1 darkly into the sky. There were five wheat-ricks in this to give any public flourish to the event in Weatherbury. yard, and three stacks of barley. The wheat when threshed That it may be thoroughly well done, and that every man would average about thirty quarters to each stack ; the may go happy to bed, I have orilered to be brought here barley at least forty. Their value to Bathsheba, and insome bottles of brandy and kettles of hot water. A treble deed to any body, Oak mentally estimated by the following strong goblet will be handed round to each guest."
simple calculation:Bathsheba put her hand upon his arm, and, with up
5X30= 150 quarters = £500 turned pale face, said imploringly, “ No - don't give it to
3X40 = 120 quarters = £250 them - pray don't, Frank. It will only do them harm : they have had enough of everything."
Total £750) “ Trew — we don't wish for no more, thank ye,” said Seven hundred and fifty pounds in the divinest form that one or two.
money can wear — that of necessary food for man and “ Pooh!” said the sergeant contemptuously, and raised beast': should the risk be run of deteriorating this bulk of his voice as if lighted up by a new idea. “Friends," he corn to less than half its value, because of the instability of said, “ we'll send the women-folk home! 'Tis time they a woman? "Never, if I can prevent it!" said Gabriel. were in bed. Then we cockbirds will have a jolly carouse · Such was the argument that Oak set outwardly before to ourselves. If any of the men show the white feather, him. But man, even to himself, is a cryptographic page let them look elsewhere for a winter's work."
having an ostensible writing, and another between the Bathsheba indignantly left the barn, followed by all the lines. It is possible that there was this golden legend unwomen and children. The musicians, not looking upon der the utiliiarian one : “ I will help, to my last effort, the themselves as “company," slipped quietly away to their woman I have loved so dearly." spring wagon and put in the horse. Thus Troy and the He went back to the barn to endeavor to obtain assistmen on the farm were left sole occupants of ihe place. ance for covering the ricks that very night. All was siOak, not to appear unnecessarily disagreeable, stayed a lent witbin, and he would have passed on in the belief that little while ; then he, too, arose and quietly took his de the party had broken up, had not a dim light, yellow as parture, followed by a friendly oath from the sergeant for saffron by contrast with the greenish whiteness outside, not staying to a second round of grog.
streamed through a knot-hole in the folding doors. Gabriel proceeded towards his home. In approaching Gabriel looked in. An offensive picture met his eye. the door, his toe kicked something which felt and sounded The candles suspended among the evergreens had burnt soft, leathery, and distended, like a boxing-glove. It was down to their sockets, and in some cases the leaves tied a large toad humbly travelling across the path. Oak took about them were scorched. Many of the lights had quite it up, thinking it might be better to kill the creature to | gone out, others smoked and stank, grease dropping from save it from pain ; but finding it uninjured, he placed it them upon the floor. Here, under the table, and leaning again among the grass. He knew what this direct mes against forms and chairs in every conceivable attitude exsage from the Great Mother meant. And soon came cept the perpendicular, were the wretched persons of all another.
the workfolk, the hair of their heads at such low levels When he struck a light indoors there appeared upon the being suggestive of mops and brooms. In the midst of table a thin glistening streak, as it a brush of varnish had these shone red and distinct the figure of Sergeant Troy, been lightly dragged across it. Oak's eyes followed the leaning back in a chair. Coggan was on his back, with serpentine sheen to the other side, where it led up to a his mouth open, buzzing forih snores, as were several huge brown garden-slug, which bad come indoors to-night others; the united breathings of the horizontal assemblage for reasons of its own. It was Nature's second way of forming a subdued roar like London from a distance. Johinting to him that he was to prepare for foul weather. | seph 'Poorgrass was curled round in the fashion of a hedge
hog, apparently in attempts to present the least possible Gabriel took the key, without waiting to hear the conportion of his surface to the air ; and behind him was dimly | clusion of the tirade. 'Ten minutes later his lonely figure visible an unimportant remnant of William Smallbury. might have been seen dragging four large water-proof cove The glasses and cups still stool upon the table, a water erings across the yard, and soon two of these heaps of jug being overturned, from which a small rill, after tracing treasure in grain were covered snug - two clothis to each. its course with marvellous precision down the centre of the Two hundred pounds were secured. Three wheat-stacks long table, fell into the neck of the unconscious Mark remained open, and there were no more cioths. Oak Clark, in a steady, monotonous drip, like the dripping of a | looked under the staddles and found a fork. Ho inounted stalactite in a cave.
the third pile of wealth and begun operating, adopting the Gabriel glanced hopelessly at the group, which, with plan of sloping the upper sheaves one over the other; and, one or two exceptions, comprised all the able-bodied men in addition, filling the interstices with the material of soino upon the farm. lle saw at once that il' the ricks were to untieel sheaves. be saved that night, or even the next morning, he must
So far all was well. By this hurried contrivance Bathsave them with liis own hands.
sheba's property in wheat was safe for at any rate a week A faint “ling-ting” resouncled from under Coggan's or two, provided always that there was not niuch wind. wai-Icoat. It was Cogyan's watch striking the hour of two. Next came the barley. This it was only possible to pro
Oak went to the recumbent form of Matthew Moon, who tect by systematic thatching. Time went on, and the usually undertook the rough thatching of the liomestead, moon vanished, not to reappear. It was the farewell of the and shook him. The shaking was without effect.
ambassador previous to war. The night had a bargard Gabriel houted in lois ear, “ \l'here's your thatching. | look, like a sick thing; and there came tinally an uiter exbeetle and rick-stick and spars ?”
piration of air from the whole heaven in the form of a slow "Unler the staililles," said Moon mechanically, with the breeze, which might have been likened to a death. And unconscious promptness of a medium,
now nothing was heard in the yard but the dull thuds of Gabriel let go his head, and it dropped upon the floor the beetle which drove in the spars, and the rustle of the
like a bowl. The then went to Susan Tall's husband. thatch in the intervals. 11 “Where's the key of the grinary?”
(To be continued.) No ansrer. The question was repeated, with the same result. To be shouteil to at night was evjelently less of a Doveltv to Susan Tall's husband than to Mattliew Moon.
BEN JONSON. Oak ilung down Tall's head into the corner again and turned away.
“Ile is a great lover and praiser of himself; a conTo be just, tlic men were not greatly to blame for this temner anil scorner of others; given rather to lose a friend painful and demoralizing termination to the evening's en than a jest; jealous of every word and action of those tertainment. Sirippant Troy had so strenuously insister, about him (especially after drink, which is one of the eleglass in hand, that drinking should be the bonil of their ments in wliich he liveth); a dissembler of all parts which union, that iho:e who wished to refuse bardly liked to be reign in hin; a bragger of rome goods that he wanteth; 80 unmannerlv under ihe circumstances. Tlaving from their thinketh nothing well but what eiiber he himself or some youth up been entirely unaccustomed to any liquor stronger of bis friends or countrymen have said or done; he is pas. than ciler or mild ale, it was no woniler that they had sionately kind and angry ; careless either to gain or keep; succumberl, one and all with extraordinary uniformity, vindictive, but, if he be well answered, at himself. For after the lapse of abou' an hour.
any religion, as being versed in both; interpretesh best sayGabriel was greatly depressed. This debauch boiled ill.
ings and deeds often to the worst. Oppressed with phanfor that wiltul and fascinating mistress whom the faithful tasy, which bath ever mastered his reason, a general disman even now felt within liim as the embodiment of all ease in many poets. His inventions are smooth and easy; that was sweet and bright and hopeless.
but above all, he excelleth in translation." He put out the expiring lights, ihat the barn might not Such is the character of “Rare Ben Jonson,” given to be endangered, closed the door upon the men in their deep | him by the gentle Drummond of Ilawthornden, afier bis and oblivious sleep, anıl went again into the lone night. most unfortunate visit; a visit nearly the most unlucky A hot breeze, as if breathed from the parteil lips of some ever known, leading to nothing but abuse and misunder. dragon about to swallow the globe, lanned hini from the standing. What Drummond said of Jonson bebind his south, while directly opposite in the north rose a grim, mis. back, immediately after writing to him, " There is nothing shapron bully of cloud, in the very teeth of the wind. So I wish more than to be in the calendar of them that love onnaturally did it rise that one coulel fancy it to be lifted you," we have seen ahove. Drummond having ventured by machinery from below. Meanwbile the faint cloudlets io give his opinion on Jonson, Gifford finds it necessa v to had flown biek into the southeast corner of the sky, as if vilify Drummond by calling him every name he could lay in terror of the large cloud, like a young brood gazed in | bis tongue to. Ile, the gentle Drummond, was a " a bird upon by some monster.
of prey ; " be “sought to injure a man whom he had de. Going on to the village, Oak flung a small stone against coyed under his roof ; " " he was of a very depraved mind;" the window of Laban Tall's bedroom, expecting Susan to and so on, scolding Drummond and others on Ben Jonson's open it; but noburly stirre. lle went round to the back behalf to that extent that the most incautious reader, from door, which had been lett unfastened for Laban's entry, sleer instinct, and without inquiry, takes part against Ben and passed in to the foot of the staircase.
Jonson, and not for him. Scoliling is an utter mistake. "Mrs. Tall, I've come for the key of the granary, to get | When a woman takes to scolding, ber intimates know that, at the rick-clothis," said Oak, in a stentorian voice.
if she does not scold about one thing she will about another, “Is that you?" said Mrs. Susan Tall, half awake.. and so no one takes any practical action with regard to it. “Yes," said Gabriel.
When a critic or biograpber takes to the same method of "Come along to bel, do, yon draw-latching roguc action, he is never much attended to; and so it comes that keeping a body awake like this!"
though'ful people, reading such a biography as that of "It isn't Lában – ’ris Gabriel Oak. I want the key of Gifford's, are generally sure to seek others. the yranary."
With regard to Ben Jonson's life and character, we shall " Gabriel! What in the name .of fortune did you pre be necessarily very brief; we shall only, so to speak. retend to be Laban for?"
mind our readers of what they doubiless know before. "I didn't. I thought you meant" –
Our object is to see what is the value of those works which "Yes vou did. What do you want here?”
this rough and uncouth man left behind him. Prrsonally “The key of the granary."
one of ihe best abused men who uver liver, he has come "Take it, then.°"T'is on the nail. Pople coming dis down to us with a reputation almost next to that of Sbakesturbing women at this time of night ought"
He was a Scotchman, though he never was but once in have the result before us. His tragedy is like Eurinide Scotland, and then he bad far better bave kept away. His his comedy like Terence. When he looks straight from grandfather was a man of gentle repute in Annandale, but his own eyes on what surrounds him, he is invaluable at went to Carlisle. His father was a minister of the gospel, giving us a hint of the manners of the times, but he is apparently a Puritan, for he was deprived of his property ringularly dull. Of the delicate little touches of domestic under Queen Mary. At the time during which we are life which we find alike in Shakespeare, Thackerar writing, ibere is a claim for the peerage of Annandale by a Dickens, and George Eliot, and which will make all men Johnstone, who is evidently a clansman of the great Ben. love them for all time, he had no knowledge. He lived in The Johnstones have made no small mark in Border books, not in life. He must have known, as we all lare history, but they will possibly be like the Tichbornes, best Mrs. Quickly, Rebecca Sharp, Miss Betsy Trot wood, and known to posterity through the most eccentric member of Aunt Glegg, but he never had the power of seeing them. their family. No family on the face of the earth have done Characters, to live, must be typical. He is never natural; better for the parent state, in their way, than the John- ! he would have made Mr. Glegg jealous of Bob Jakin, and stones, but they have not been so successful as the Camp- would have given us to understand that there was more in bells; and their greatest man is certainly the remarkable the matter than Mrs. Glegg chose to say. He never could
keep the jusle milieu in fiction; like Victor Hugo he must Born in 1574, after his father's death, he entirely missed be on the stilts or in the mud, for his own satisfaction; but that moulding which a man can only get from a father; a unlike Victor Hugo he is utterly incapable of those middle moulding which is as much more valuable than the forming tones, which, when we are laughing heartily at Victor of a mother as the stamping of a guinea is than the casting Hugo's worst absurdities, make us put down the book in of a coiner. A fatber leaves a much more certain mark awe, and revere bin like a great man. For example, in upon his son than the best of mothers can. The merest the two children playing with the kitten, Eponine says: common-sense, the most ordinary knowledge of the world,
“ Vois-tu, ma sœur, cette poupée là est plus amugante que proves that fact so clearly that it is hardly worth ink to
l'autre. Ellc remue, elle crie, elle est chaude. Vois-lu, me write it down. At the turning point of every great man's
seur, jouons avec. Ce serait ma petite-fille. Je serais une life occur things which he could never speak to bis mother dame. Je viendrais te voir et tu la regarderais. Peu à pea tu about; if he did, she could not understand him. On the verrais ses moustaches, et cela t'étonnerait; et tu me dirais ; other hand, a father who gains his son's confidence can "Ah! mon Dieu !' et je te dirais : Oui, madame, c'est une pe advise, persuade, and warn. The loss of a good mother is tite-fille que j'ai comme ca. Les petites filles sont comme ca i bitter enough, in all conscience. The loss of the one woman présent.' who precedes the wife, and who in some points has an au No living man except Victor Hugo could write that, and thority higher than the wife herself, is irremediable. But few dead ones. Certainly not Ben Jonson. Take Dickens the loss of the father, the dear friend, the tender, gentle again, in one of his most exquisitely nonsensical passages, companion, from whom nothing is concealed; the man who which we quote, to show that Dickens was Victor Hugo's understands you beyond all others; the man in whose broad, master in the art of child's babble. The question is, kindly bosom you bury secrets of disappointed love, of idle What do sea-side lodging-house keepers do out of the ness, of carelessness, of a thousand things, only known to season? men, and wbich, wbile forgiven by the mother, cannot be sympathized with; that loss — the loss of the father – is
"Whether they pretended to take one another's lodgings, or
to open one another's tea caddies for fun? Whether they cut more than irremediable; we have no word for it ; it must
off slices of their own beef and mutton, and made heliere that pass as nameless.
it belonged to somebody else? Whether they played little dramas Jonson bad no father. He was, in our opinion, the very of life like children do, and said, 'I ought to come and look at man of all others who should have had one. He was your apartments, and you ought to ask two guineas a werk to essentially a man's muan; and there is a curious undercur- | much ; and then I ought to say that I must have the rest of the rent of misogyny in his writings which seems at times as day to think about it, and then you ought to say that another strong as that of Swift. “ Why does Nature waste her lady and gentleman with no children in family had made a time in making such things ? ” he says once. A good
| berier offer, and that you were just going to take the bill down father would have given bim more experience of the excel
when you heard the knock.' lence of women than he ever seems to have bad; but he These fancies about children make us laugh as happily sinned in that respect with a large school, which is not and heartily as anything can. The three greatest of our quite extinct yet.
recent writers of prose fiction, in truth, infinitely the best While he was a baby his mother married again, 80 prac. writers of prose we ever had, treat children with an tically he had no mother.. No blame can be attached amount of respectful study which would have rather aseither to her or to the master bricklayer whom sbe married, tonished the overrated novelists of the last century. To for Jonson bad a good private education at a school at St. | Ben Jonson they were a sealed book. The question arises, Martin's-in-the. Fields, and from thence went to West “ Was Ben Jonson ever a child himself? Did he ever minster, to receive a sound classical education under no | know much of that domestic life which leaves such a strong less a man than the great Camden. Every man who has imprint on the nature of most men ?" If be did not, we put pen to paper knows these facts, but no one seems to be are saying more to excuse him on certain points than a able to deduce from them. Ben Jonson had no domestic | thousand infuriated Giffords could do. life; he was a child of the pedagogues ; not by any means He went to St. Jobn's College, Cambridge, for a sbort of Jesuit pedagogues, who carefully excerpt everything time; for how long it is not easy to determine. His mother objectionable from the classical authors, but of free Protes and his step-father, who had already done all they could tant schoolmasters, who teach a boy Latin, and turn him for his education, were unable to maintain him in a univerinto the library with Xenophon, Petronius, Ovid, Virgil, sity career, and he was fetched home to work at the trade and Juvenal, all ready to his hands. Good people who of his stepfather. And in the name of confusion, why not? shiver and shudder at the pameless horrors of « Volpone,” | What on earth is there degrading in the matter? There is must really remember that the child Jonson's first knowl. a certain sort of kid-glove critic to whom the fact seems to edge of the world was gained through books, some of which be horrible. We can only say that he was much better most certainly would bring the author into serious trouble employed at bricklaying than he was in writing certain parts nowadays, if it were possible to find a publisber for them. of his plays. This part of his life seems extremely negative. It is truc that we are carefully trained to read such books He was certainly not tutor to Sir Walter Raleigh's boy, benow, but it is bad for a lad to do so without the indetina cause the boy was not born. He did not do a great many ble atınosphere of a pure and intellectual home around him. other things attributed to hini, but he certainly left his Joneon had not this; he was a child of the pedagogues, and trade and went as a soldier to the Low Countries. Here they are more proud of him than we are. He from the he served one campaign, and then returned to England, his first looked at life through classical spectacles, and we step-father being dead, but his mother still living, Jonson