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328 hand the small trunk, and now away and unlash there behind.'

During all this scene, Delly had remained perfectly silent in her trembling and rustic alarm; while Isabel, by occasional cries to Pierre, had vainly besought some explanation. But though their complete ignorance of city life had caused Pierre's two companions to regard the scene thus far with too much trepidation; yet now, when in the obscurity of night, and in the heart of a strange town, Pierre handed them out of the coach into the naked street, and they saw their luggage piled so near the white light of a watch-house, the same ignorance, in some sort, reversed its effects on them; for they little fancied in what really untoward and wretched circumstances they first touched the flagging of the city.

As the coach lumbered off, and went rolling into the wide murkiness beyond, Pierre spoke to the officer.

'It is a rather strange accident, I confess, my friend, but strange accidents will sometimes happen.'

'In the best of families,' rejoined the other, a little ironically.

Now, I must not quarrel with this man, thought Pierre to himself, stung at the officer's tone. Then said, 'Is there any one in your—office?'

'No one as yet—not late enough.'

'Will you have the kindness, then, to house these ladies there for the present, while I make haste to provide them with better lodgment? Lead on, if you please.'

The man seemed to hesitate a moment, but finally acquiesced; and soon they passed under the white light, and entered a large, plain, and most forbidding-looking room, with hacked wooden benches and bunks ranged along the sides, and a railing before a desk in one corner. The permanent keeper of the place was quietly reading a paper by the long central double

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Rh bat's-wing gas-light; and three officers off duty were nodding on a bench.

'Not very liberal accommodations,' said the officer, quietly; 'nor always the best of company, but we try to be civil. Be seated, ladies,' politely drawing a small bench toward them.

'Hallo, my friends,' said Pierre, approaching the nodding three beyond, and tapping them on the shoulder—'Hallo, I say! Will you do me a little favour? Will you help bring some trunks in from the street? I will satisfy you for your trouble, and be much obliged into the bargain.'

Instantly the three noddies, used to sudden awakenings, opened their eyes, and stared hard; and being further enlightened by the bat's-wings and first officer, promptly brought in the luggage as desired.

Pierre hurriedly sat down by Isabel, and in a few words gave her to understand, that she was now in a perfectly secure place, however unwelcoming; that the officers would take every care of her, while he made all possible speed in running to the house, and indubitably ascertaining how matters stood there. He hoped to be back in less than ten minutes with good tidings. Explaining his intention to the first officer, and begging him not to leave the girls till he should return, he forthwith sallied into the street. He quickly came to the house, and immediately identified it. But all was profoundly silent and dark. He rang the bell, but no answer; and waiting long enough to be certain, that either the house was indeed deserted, or else the old clerk was unawakeable or absent; and at all events, certain that no slightest preparation had been made for their arrival; Pierre, bitterly disappointed, returned to Isabel with this most unpleasant information.

Nevertheless something must be done, and quickly.

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330 Turning to one of the officers, he begged him to go and seek a hack, that the whole party might be taken to some respectable lodging. But the man, as well as his comrades, declined the errand on the score, that there was no stand on their beat, and they could not, on any account, leave their beat. So Pierre himself must go. He by no means liked to leave Isabel and Delly again, on an expedition which might occupy some time. But there seemed no resource, and time now imperiously pressed. Communicating his intention therefore to Isabel, and again entreating the officer's particular services as before, and promising not to leave him unrequited; Pierre again sallied out. He looked up and down the street, and listened; but no sound of any approaching vehicle was audible. He ran on, and turning the first corner, bent his rapid steps toward the greatest and most central avenue of the city, assured that there, if anywhere, he would find what he wanted. It was some distance off; and he was not without hope that an empty hack would meet him ere he arrived there. But the few stray ones he encountered had all muffled fares. He continued on, and at last gained the great avenue. Not habitually used to such scenes, Pierre for a moment was surprised, that the instant he turned out of the narrow, and dark, and death-like by-street, he should find himself suddenly precipitated into the not-yet-repressed noise and contention, and all the garish night-life of a vast thoroughfare, crowded and wedged by day, and even now, at this late hour, brilliant with occasional illuminations, and echoing to very many swift wheels and footfalls.

II

'I say, my pretty one! Dear! Dear! young man! Oh, love, you are in a vast hurry, ain't you? Can't

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Rh you stop a bit, now, my dear: do—there's a sweet fellow.'

Pierre turned; and in the flashing, sinister, evil cross-lights of a druggist's window, his eye caught the person of a wonderfully beautifully-featured girl; scarlet-cheeked, glaringly arrayed, and of a figure all natural grace but unnatural vivacity. Her whole form, however, was horribly lit by the green and yellow rays from the druggist's.

'My God!' shuddered Pierre, hurrying forward, 'the town's first welcome to youth!'

He was just crossing over to where a line of hacks were drawn up against the opposite curb, when his eye was arrested by a short, gilded name, rather reservedly and aristocratically denominating a large and very handsome house, the second story of which was profusely lighted. He looked up, and was very certain that in this house were the apartments of Glen. Yielding to a sudden impulse, he mounted the single step toward the door, and rang the bell, which was quickly responded to by a very civil black.

As the door opened, he heard the distant interior sound of dancing-music and merriment.

'Is Mr. Stanly in?'

'Mr. Stanly? Yes, but he's engaged.'

'Now?'

'He is somewhere in the drawing-rooms. My mistress is giving a party to the lodgers.'

'Ay? Tell Mr. Stanly I wish to see him for one moment, if you please; only one moment.'

'I dare not call him, sir. He said that possibly some one might call for him to-night—they are calling every night for Mr. Stanly—but I must admit no one, on the plea of the party.'

A dark and bitter suspicion now darted through the mind of Pierre; and ungovernably yielding to it, and resolved to prove or falsify it without delay, he said to the black:

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332 'My business is pressing. I must see Mr. Stanly.'

'I am sorry, sir, but orders are orders: I am his particular servant here—the one that sees his silver every holyday. I can't disobey him. May I shut the door, sir? for as it is, I cannot admit you.'

'The drawing-rooms are on the second floor, are they not?' said Pierre quietly.

'Yes,' said the black, pausing in surprise, and holding the door.

'Yonder are the stairs, I think?'

'That way, sir; but this is yours'; and the now suspicious black was just on the point of closing the portal violently upon him, when Pierre thrust him suddenly aside, and springing up the long stairs, found himself facing an open door, from whence proceeded a burst of combined brilliancy and melody, doubly confusing to one just emerged from the street. But bewildered and all demented as he momentarily felt, he instantly stalked in, and confounded the amazed company with his unremoved slouched hat, pale cheek, and whole dusty, travel-stained, and ferocious aspect.

'Mr. Stanly! where is Mr. Stanly?' he cried, advancing straight through a startled quadrille, while all the music suddenly hushed, and every eye was fixed in vague affright upon him.

'Mr. Stanly! Mr. Stanly!' cried several bladish voices, toward the further end of the further drawing-room, into which the first one widely opened; 'here is a most peculiar fellow after you; who the devil is he?'

'I think I see him,' replied a singularly cool, deliberate, and rather drawling voice, yet a very silvery one, and at bottom perhaps a very resolute one; 'I think I see him; stand aside, my good fellow, will you; ladies, remove, remove, from between me and yonder hat.'

The polite compliance of the company thus addressed,

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Rh now revealed to the advancing Pierre, the tall, robust figure of a remarkably splendid-looking, and brown-bearded young man, dressed with surprising plainness, almost demureness, for such an occasion; but this plainness of his dress was not so obvious at first, the material was so fine, and admirably fitted. He was carelessly lounging in a half side-long attitude upon a large sofa, and appeared as if but just interrupted in some very agreeable chat with a diminutive but vivacious brunette, occupying the other end. The dandy and the man; strength and effeminacy; courage and indolence, were so strangely blended in this superb-eyed youth, that at first sight, it seemed impossible to decide whether there was any genuine mettle in him, or not.

Some years had gone by since the cousins had met; years peculiarly productive of the greatest conceivable changes in the general personal aspect of human beings. Nevertheless, the eye seldom alters. The instant their eyes met, they mutually recognised each other. But both did not betray the recognition.

'Glen!' cried Pierre, and paused a few steps from him.

But the superb-eyed only settled himself lower down in his lounging attitude, and slowly withdrawing a small, unpretending, and unribboned glass from his vest pocket, steadily, yet not entirely insultingly, notwithstanding the circumstances, scrutinised Pierre. Then, dropping his glass, turned slowly round upon the gentlemen near him, saying in the same peculiar, mixed, and musical voice as before:

'I do not know him; it is an entire mistake; why don't the servants take him out, and the music go on?—As I was saying, Miss Clara, the statues you saw in the Louvre are not to be mentioned with those in Florence and Rome. Why, there now is that vaunted chef d'œuvre, the Fighting Gladiator of the Louvre——'

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334 'Fighting Gladiator it is!' yelled Pierre, leaping toward him like Spartacus. But the savage impulse in him was restrained by the alarmed female shrieks and wild gestures around him. As he paused, several gentlemen made motions to pinion him; but shaking them off fiercely, he stood erect, and isolated for an instant, and fastening his glance upon his still reclining, and apparently unmoved cousin, thus spoke:

'Glendinning Stanly, thou disown'st Pierre not so abhorrently as Pierre does thee. By heaven, had I a knife, Glen, I could prick thee on the spot; let out all thy Glendinning blood, and then sew up the vile remainder. Hound, and base blot upon the general humanity!'

'This is very extraordinary:—remarkable case of combined imposture and insanity; but where are the servants? why don't that black advance? Lead him out, my good Doc, lead him out. Carefully, carefully! stay'—putting his hand in his pocket—'there, take that, and have the poor fellow driven off somewhere.'

Bolting his rage in him, as impossible to be sated by any conduct, in such a place, Pierre now turned, sprang down the stairs, and fled the house.

III

'Hack, sir? Hack, sir? Hack, sir?'

'Cab, sir? Cab, sir? Cab, sir?'

'This way, sir! This way, sir! This way, sir!'

'He's a rogue! Not him! he's a rogue!'

Pierre was surrounded by a crowd of contending hack-men, all holding long whips in their hands; while others eagerly beckoned to him from their boxes, where they sat elevated between their two coach-lamps like shabby, discarded saints. The whip-stalks thickened around him,

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Rh and several reports of the cracking lashes sharply sounded in his ears. Just bursting from a scene so goading as his interview with the scornful Glen in the dazzling drawing-room, to Pierre, this sudden tumultuous surrounding of him by whip-stalks and lashes, seemed like the onset of the chastising fiends upon Orestes. But, breaking away from them, he seized the first plated door-handle near him, and, leaping into the hack, shouted for whoever was the keeper of it, to mount his box forthwith and drive off in a given direction.

The vehicle had proceeded some way down the great avenue when it paused, and the driver demanded whither now; what place?

'The Watch-house of the —— Ward,' cried Pierre.

'Hi! hi! Goin' to deliver himself up, hey?' grinned the fellow to himself. 'Well, that's a sort of honest, anyway:—g'lang, you dogs!—whist! whee! wha!—g'lang!'

The sights and sounds which met the eye of Pierre on re-entering the watch-house, filled him with inexpressible horror and fury. The before decent, drowsy place, now fairly reeked with all things unseemly. Hardly possible was it to tell what conceivable cause or occasion had, in the comparatively short absence of Pierre, collected such a base congregation. In indescribable disorder, frantic, diseased-looking men and women of all colours, and in all imaginable flaunting, immodest, grotesque, and shattered dresses, were leaping, yelling, and cursing around him. The torn Madras handkerchiefs of negresses, and the red gowns of yellow girls, hanging in tatters from their naked bosoms, mixed with the rent dresses of deep-rouged white women, and the split coats, checkered vests, and protruding shirts of pale, or whiskered, or haggard, or moustached fellows of all nations, some of whom seemed scared from their beds, and others seemingly

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the discovery of gold in Scotland, and descriptions of the lead and silver mines.

In 1880 Cochran-Patrick contested North Ayrshire in the conservative interest, and defeated Mr. J. B. Balfour (now lord-president of the court of session) by fifty-five votes. He was a frequent speaker in parliament, especially on education matters. In 1884 he published his third work, 'Catalogue of the Medals of Scotland,' containing a learned account of Scottish medals, of which he preserved the best collection extant. In 1885 he was defeated for North Ayrshire by the Hon. H. F. Elliot. In 1886 he became assessor to St. Andrews University, and in 1887 a commissioner to inquire into the working of the Scotch Education Act. Shortly afterwards he joined the fishery board of Scotland, and was granted the degree of LL.D. from Glasgow University in consideration of his scholarly attainments. In December 1887 he was appointed permanent under-secretary for Scotland, an office in which he rendered most valuable assistance in the promotion of Scottish business, notably the Local Government (Scotl.) Act, 1889. On 15 June 1892 he resigned his appointment owing to failing health, and retired to his seat at Woodside. In 1894 he acted as a commissioner to inquire into the Tweed and Solway salmon fisheries, visiting the border towns, taking evidence, and inspecting the rivers. In 1896 he became vice-chairman of the Scotch Fishery Board. As a freemason he was for many years provincial grand master of Ayrshire. On March 1897, after returning from a meeting of the fishery board in Edinburgh, he died suddenly of heart disease at Woodside.

Cochran-Patrick married, 31 Oct. 1866, Eleanora, younger daughter of Robert Hunter of Hunterston, Ayrshire, having by her (who died in 1884) a son, William Arthur, who died in 1891, and a daughter, Eleanor Agnes, who married in 1895 Neil James Kennedy, advocate, who assumed the name of Cochran-Patrick in terms of the entail of the property.

Besides the works named, Cochran-Patrick was the author of: 1. 'Unpublished Varieties of Scottish Coins,' 2 parts, 1871-2. 2. 'Notes on the Annals of the Scotch Coinage,' 8 parts, 1872-4. 3. 'Notes towards a Metallic History of Scotland,' 1878. 4. 'Mediæval Scotland,' 1892 a reprint of articles published in the 'Glasgow Herald.'

[The Scottish Review, January 1898 ; obituary notices in the Scotsman and Glasgow Herald, March 1897 ; Burke's Landed Gentry.]  COCHRANE-BAILLIE, ALEXANDER DUNDAS ROSS WISHART, first (1816–1890), politician and author, was eldest son of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Thomas John Cochrane [q. v.] and Matilda, daughter of Lieutenant-general Sir Charles Ross, seventh baronet of Balnagowan, by his first wife (daughter and heiress of General Count James Lockhart of Carnwath). Lady Cochrane, Cochrane-Baillie's mother, was heiress of the lands of Old Listen in the county of Edinburgh. Her father's mother, Elizabeth, daughter of Robert Dundas (1713–1787) [q. v.] of Arniston, by Henrietta Baillie, daughter and heiress of Sir James Carmichael of Bonnington, inherited, in addition to the lands of Bonnington in Lanarkshire, the estate of Lamington in the same county as heiress of her grandmother, Margaret Baillie of Lamington, wife of Sir James Carmichael. Lady Cochrane's father (Sir Charles Ross) left no male heir by his first wife; on his death in 1814 he was succeeded in the baronetcy by Charles (then a boy of two), son of his second marriage with Lady Mary Fitzgerald, and thus Lady Cochrane's half-brother. When the boy's grandmother, Lady Ross-Baillie, died in 1817, the estates of Lamington and Balnagowan were placed under trust till he should attain his majority in 1833, and exercise his choice of succeeding to the possession of the lands of Balnagowan in the county of Ross or Lamington in the county of Lanark. He chose Balnagowan, on which the lands of Lamington devolved on the son of Lady Cochrane, his half-sister, the subject of this memoir.

Born on 27 Nov. 1816, Baillie-Cochrane, as the name was then written, was educated at Eton and Trinity College, Cambridge (B.A. 1837). He sat as conservative member for Bridport from 1841 to 1852, when he was defeated in a contest for Southampton. He was one of the most active members of the 'Young England' party in the House of Commons, whereof Disraeli was the chief and Lord John Manners (now Duke of Rutland) the vates sacer, and he is said to have been the original of Buckhurst in 'Coningsby' (Life of H. C. Childers, i. 158). In 1857 he was returned for Lanarkshire, and from 1859 to 1868 he sat for Honiton. In the autumn of 1868 he was offered the governorship of Cape Colony, but Disraeli's administration fell before the appointment was completed. In 1870 he was returned for the Isle of Wight, which he continued to represent till 1880, when he was raised to the peerage as first baron Lamington. He died at 26 Wilton Crescent, London, on


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336 arrested in the midst of some crazy and wanton dance. On all sides, were heard drunken male and female voices, in English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese, interlarded now and then, with the foulest of all human lingoes, that dialect of sin and death, known as the Cant language, or the Flash.

Running among this combined babel of persons and voices, several of the police were vainly striving to still the tumult; while others were busy handcuffing the more desperate; and here and there the distracted wretches, both men and women, gave downright battle to the officers; and still others already handcuffed struck out at them with their joined ironed arms. Meanwhile, words and phrases unrepeatable in God's sunlight, and whose very existence was utterly unknown, and undreamed of by tens of thousands of the decent people of the city; syllables obscene and accursed were shouted forth in tones plainly evincing that they were the common household breath of their utterers. The thieves'-quarters, and all the brothels, Lock-and-Sin hospitals for incurables, and infirmaries and infernoes of hell seemed to have made one combined sortie, and poured out upon earth through the vile vomitory of some unmentionable cellar.

Though the hitherto imperfect and casual city experiences of Pierre, illy fitted him entirely to comprehend the specific purport of this terrific spectacle; still he knew enough by hearsay of the more infamous life of the town, to imagine from whence, and who, were the objects before him. But all his consciousness at the time was absorbed by the one horrified thought of Isabel and Delly, forced to witness a sight hardly endurable for Pierre himself; or, possibly, sucked into the tumult, and in close personal contact with its loathsomeness. Rushing into the crowd, regardless of the random blows and curses he encountered, he wildly sought for Isabel,

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Rh and soon descried her struggling from the delirious reaching arms of a half-clad, reeling whiskerando. With an immense blow of his mailed fist, he sent the wretch humming, and seizing Isabel, cried out to two officers near, to clear a path for him to the door. They did so. And in a few minutes the panting Isabel was safe in the open air. He would have stayed by her, but she conjured him to return for Delly, exposed to worse insults than herself. An additional posse of officers now approaching, Pierre committing her to the care of one of them, and summoning two others to join himself, now re-entered the room. In another quarter of it, he saw Delly seized on each hand by two bleared and half-bloody women, who with fiendish grimaces were ironically twitting her upon her close-necked dress, and had already stripped her handkerchief from her. She uttered a cry of mixed anguish and joy at the sight of him; and Pierre soon succeeded in returning with her to Isabel.

During the absence of Pierre in quest of the hack, and while Isabel and Delly were quietly awaiting his return, the door had suddenly burst open, and a detachment of the police drove in, and caged, the entire miscellaneous night-occupants of a notorious stew, which they had stormed and carried during the height of some outrageous orgy. The first sight of the interior of the watch-house, and their being so quickly huddled together within its four blank walls, had suddenly lashed the mob into frenzy; so that for the time, oblivious of all other considerations, the entire force of the police was directed to the quelling of the indoor riot; and consequently, abandoned to their own protection, Isabel and Delly had been temporarily left to its mercy.

It was no time for Pierre to manifest his indignation at the officer—even if he could now find him—who had thus falsified his individual pledge concerning the precious

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338 charge committed to him. Nor was it any time to distress himself about his luggage, still somewhere within. Quitting all, he thrust the bewildered and half-lifeless girls into the waiting hack, which, by his orders, drove back in the direction of the stand, where Pierre had first taken it up.

When the coach had rolled them well away from the tumult, Pierre stopped it, and said to the man, that he desired to be taken to the nearest respectable hotel or boarding-house of any kind, that he knew of. The fellow—maliciously diverted by what had happened thus far—made some ambiguous and rudely merry rejoinder. But warned by his previous rash quarrel with the stage-driver, Pierre passed this unnoticed, and in a controlled, calm, decided manner repeated his directions.

The issue was, that after a rather roundabout drive they drew up in a very respectable side-street, before a large respectable-looking house, illuminated by two tall white lights flanking its portico. Pierre was glad to notice some little remaining stir within, spite of the comparative lateness of the hour. A bare-headed, tidily dressed, and very intelligent-looking man, with a broom clothes-brush in his hand, appearing, scrutinised him rather sharply at first; but as Pierre advanced further into the light, and his countenance became visible, the man, assuming a respectful but still slightly perplexed air, invited the whole party into a closely adjoining parlour, whose disordered chairs and general dustiness, evinced that after a day's activity it now awaited the morning offices of the housemaids.

'Baggage, sir?'

'I have left my baggage at another place,' said Pierre, 'I shall send for it to-morrow.'

'Ah!' exclaimed the very intelligent-looking man, rather dubiously, 'shall I discharge the hack, then?'

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 Wellesley spring. He was told that this increase could only be temporary, for 'it is absolutely impossible to continue our exertions upon the present scale in the Peninsula for any considerable length of time' (ib. 20 Feb.) In reply, he reminded Liverpool that their only choice lay between fighting the French abroad or at home, and argued that the cost of the war in the Peninsula, subsidies included, was really five, instead of nine, millions a year (Desp. 23 March).

There seemed every reason to expect that in the spring of 1811 the French advance on Lisbon would be resumed in greater force, and Wellington was urged to be beforehand and drive Masséna out of Portugal; but failure would have been disastrous, the gain doubtful, and he would not run the risk (Desp. 21 Dec.) He continued to strengthen his lines, and made new lines at Almada, opposite Lisbon, to protect the city and the fleet from bombardment from the left bank of the Tagus. He had to keep a corps of fourteen thousand men on that side of the river, while Masséna was at Santarem, to check operations in Alemtejo by him or by Soult.

On 2 March 1811 five thousand British troops landed at Lisbon, and on the night of the 5th Masséna began his retreat. He meant to hold the line of the Mondego, as Napoleon reckoned on his doing (Corresp. 29 March); but on reaching Coimbra he found it occupied by Portuguese militia, and, mistaking them for the newly arrived troops, he continued his retreat up the left bank of the river. Wellington followed him up as closely as supplies would permit, and sharp rearguard actions were fought at Pombal, Redinha, Cazal Novo, and Fozd'Aronce (11-15 March). Having reached the head of the Mondego, Masséna held his ground at Guarda till the end of the month, but was then forced back behind the Coa. On 3 April an action was fought at Sabugal between the light division and Reynier's corps, which was 'one of the most glorious that British troops were ever engaged in' (Desp. 9 April). On the 5th Masséna recrossed the frontier of Portugal and fell back on Salamanca to recruit his troops. The invasion had cost him thirty thousand men.

This was the turning-point of the war. Napoleon was already preparing for a breach with Russia, and could ill spare more men for Spain, while Wellington gained strength from the realisation of his forecast. In future he had not to fight against despondency about the war in the Peninsula, though he had often to oppose schemes for transferring some of the British troops, or even himself, to some other field (Suppl. Desp. 7 Dec. 1811, 12 Oct. 1812; and Desp. 7 Nov. 1812, 12 July and 21 Dec. 1813). The thanks of parliament were voted to him on 26 April for his successful defence of Portugal, Grey seconding the motion in the lords; and Samuel Whitbread wrote to him frankly owning that his opinion about the contest in the Peninsula was changed.

It was now Wellington's first object to recover the frontier fortresses. He had hoped to save Badajoz, but it surrendered prematurely on 11 March; and Soult, hearing of Graham's victory at Barrosa on 5 March, returned to Andalusia. On the 15th Beresford was detached across the Tagus with twenty-two thousand men to retake Badajoz before the breaches were repaired, and to raise the siege of Campo Mayor, on which Mortier was engaged. The latter place fell on the 21st, but was recovered on the 25th, and, passing the Guadiana on 6 April, Beresford retook Olivenca on the 14th. Wellington, having invested Almeida with the main army, left his troops under Spencer, and went to Elvas in the middle of April to arrange for Spanish cooperation in the siege of Badajoz; but he was soon recalled to the north by the advance of Masséna with forty-five thousand men to relieve Almeida. Wellington had only thirty-five thousand, and in cavalry the French were four times his strength. He drew up his army behind the Dos Casas stream, between Fort Conception and Fuentes de Oñoro; and on 3 May the French attacked the village, while demonstrating along the whole front. On the 5th the attack on the village was renewed, and having shifted the 8th corps from right to left, Masséna sent it forward to turn the British right. In anticipation of such a movement Wellington had extended his line, so that Fuentes de Oñoro had become the centre instead of the right; but the extension had weakened it, the new right was soon forced back, and had to form a fresh front at right angles to the line. This it was allowed time to do, and the French attack was not pushed further; but Wellington owned 'if "Boney" had been there, we should have been beaten' (Suppl. Desp. 2 July;, i. 82). On the 10th Masséna fell back to Ciudad Rodrigo, claiming a victory though he had failed in his object; but that night Brennier, the governor of Almeida, blew up part of the works and brought off his garrison. Wellington was much vexed at his escape; 'I am obliged to be everywhere, and if absent from any operation, something goes wrong' (Desp. 15 May). Masséna now handed over his


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 Wellesley command to Marmont, who had been sent to succeed him, and who withdrew most of the troops to Salamanca.

The siege of Badajoz had been begun on 8 May 1811, but Soult advanced to raise it. He was defeated by Beresford at Albuera, owing to the extraordinary tenacity of the English infantry, but at the cost of nearly two-thirds of them (Journal of United Service Institution, xxxix. 903); and he retired to Llerena. On the 16th, the day on which the battle was fought, Wellington had set out to join Beresford, and he arrived at Elvas on the 19th, followed by two British divisions. The siege of Badajoz was begun afresh; but the means were scanty, the guns bad, and on 10 June it had to be raised, for Marmont was marching southward to join Soult. The two marshals met at Merida on the 18th, and next day their combined armies reached Badajoz. Wellington had retired across the Guadiana, and taken a position near Elvas, where he was joined on the 24th by Spencer with the rest of his troops. He was prepared to accept battle, though he had only fifty thousand men to meet sixty-four thousand. The French contented themselves, however, with relieving Badajoz. Soult was drawn back to Andalusia by threats against Seville, and in the middle of July Marmont retired across the Tagus to Plasencia.

Wellington determined to try a stroke at Ciudad Rodrigo, believing that he would not find the enemy in such force in the north. Leaving Hill with fourteen thousand men south of the Tagus, he marched back to the neighbourhood of that fortress and invested it in the beginning of August. A powerful siege-train, newly come from England, was secretly sent up the Duero to Lamego. But he was again confronted by a combination more powerful than he had reckoned on, and confined himself to a blockade. In the middle of September, when the supplies of Rodrigo began to run short, Marmont and Dorsenne (who commanded the army of the north) advanced to revictual it with sixty thousand men. Wellington had only forty-four thousand, and could not prevent them; but, wishing to make them show their force, he stood his ground southwest of the fortress, his troops being extended over twenty miles. A vigorous attack would have been disastrous to him; but he took the measure of his adversary, and showed a bolder front than circumstances warranted. His centre was forced back at El Bodon on the 25th, but he retired slowly, making a stand at Guinaldo and at Aldea Ponte, and so gained time to concentrate his troops on the Coa (cf., Mémoires, iv. 62; , Mémoires, iv. 510). Marmont then fell back, and returned to the valley of the Tagus.

Wellington's plans had been baffled, but he had engaged the attention of the enemy's main armies and had saved Galicia. He had found great difficulty in feeding his men; he was obliged to import wheat from Egypt and America, and to use commissariat bills as a paper currency in default of specie, to pay the muleteers on whom he depended for his transport. The British troops in the Peninsula had been raised to nearly sixty thousand men, but one-third of them were sick. The Portuguese suffered even more, for their government would make no exertions. It considered all danger past, and regarded the war as the concern of England, not Portugal (Desp. 13 Sept.) Yet Wellington, hard pressed for means as he was, still continued to strengthen the works for the defence of Lisbon, to meet a possible turn of fortune. He was given the local rank of general on 5 Aug., and received the grand cross of the Portuguese order of the Tower and Sword, with the title of Conde de Vimeiro.

At the end of the year French troops to the number of sixty thousand men were withdrawn from Spain, the military divisions were rearranged, and Marmont was told to send troops to help Suchet in Valencia. This favoured an enterprise for which Wellington had been secretly preparing. He had brought his siege-train to Almeida, as if for the armament of that place, and on 8 Jan. 1812 he appeared before Ciudad Rodrigo. That night a redoubt on a hill from which the walls could be breached at a range of six hundred yards was stormed. Batteries were built there, and on the 19th, there being two practicable breaches, a general assault was made at five points. At the main breach the defence was obstinate, but the defenders were taken in rear by the men of the light division, who had carried the smaller breach. Along with the fortress, and its garrison of seventeen hundred men, Marmont's siege-train fell into Wellington's hands. The loss of the besiegers was thirteen hundred. Marmont, whose headquarters were now at Valladolid, was not aware of the siege till the 15th, and by the time he had assembled his army he learnt that the place had fallen. In reward for this brilliant stroke Wellington was made an earl (18 Feb.), and received the thanks of parliament (10 Feb.), with an additional annuity of 2,000l. The Spanish government created him Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo and a grandee of the first class.


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 Wellesley He hoped to get possession of Badajoz also before the French, who had to live upon the country, could take the field. He remained near Rodrigo till its works were repaired; then putting a Spanish garrison into it, and trusting the defence of the frontier to the Portuguese militia and the Galicians, he took his whole army to Elvas in the beginning of March. On the 16th he invested Badajoz. The garrison numbered five thousand men, and the works were stronger than those of Rodrigo; but there was again a hill from which the walls might be breached at a distance, and that side was chosen for the attack. The Picurina redoubt, which occupied this hill, was stormed on the 25th; and on 6 April, breaches having been formed in two bastions and the curtain between them, orders were given for the assault. The obstacles and fire encountered at the breaches proved insurmountable; but a brigade of the fifth division under General George Townshend Walker [q. v.] escaladed the works on the opposite side of the town, and advanced along the ramparts towards the breaches. The castle, too, was escaladed by the third division under Picton. The troops defending the breaches dispersed, and the place was taken and sacked. It cost Wellington nearly five thousand men, of whom more than two-thirds fell in the assault. When he learnt the extent of his losses, 'the firmness of his nature gave way for a moment, and the pride of conquest yielded to a passionate burst of grief (, iv. 123;, i. 295-311).

He wrote next day to Lord Liverpool begging that the British army might be provided with a corps of trained sappers and miners, as every foreign army was; adding that it was a cruel situation for any person to be placed in to have to sacrifice his best officers and men in carrying such places by vive force (Athenæum, 1889, i. 537). But if he had had the means, he had not the time for systematic approaches. Soult was advancing with twenty-four thousand men, and a second battle of Albuera was imminent, when the place fell. Marmont had meant to send three divisions to help Soult, but he received orders from Napoleon (Corresp. 18 Feb.) that if Wellington should make the mistake of attacking Badajoz, he was to march on Almeida and push out parties to Coimbra. Accordingly he entered Portugal at the end of March.

Learning this, and that the Spaniards had neglected to provision Rodrigo, Wellington gave up his intention of following Soult, who had retreated into Andalusia, and in the middle of April recrossed the Tagus, leaving Hill on the south side as before, with seventeen thousand men. On his approach Marmont fell back, having done nothing' beyond gathering supplies. The invasion of Andalusia had been Wellington's plan for the campaign. Forced to abandon it, he determined to invade Castile, feeling sure that if he could beat Marmont he should indirectly deliver the south of Spain. As a preliminary, he caused Rowland Hill [q. v.] to seize and destroy the double bridgehead at Almaraz which Marmont had built to secure his communication with Soult; and he made this capture seem to threaten Soult, strengthening his disinclination to detach troops to the north. Wellington shortened his own communication with Hill by repairing the bridge at Alcantara. The British sea-power not only helped him in feeding his troops (Desp, 4 Dec. 1811), but enabled him to give occupation to the other French armies while he was dealing with the army of Portugal. The east coast was to be threatened by an expedition from Sicily, the coast of Biscay by a squadron under Sir Home Popham acting in concert with the Spaniards, while the troops at Cadiz and Gibraltar were to hinder Soult from concentrating against Hill. North of the Duero the Portuguese militia and the Galicians were to invade the Asturias and Leon, and to co-operate with his own army.

On 13 June Wellington passed the Agueda with nearly fifty thousand men and marched on Salamanca. Some convents which had been converted into forts detained him there ten days. On the 20th Marmont brought up twenty-five thousand men, and was joined two days afterwards by fifteen thousand more. A good opportunity of bringing him to action seems to have been missed (, iv. 249), and when the forts fell on the 27th, he retired behind the Duero. The two armies remained in observation of one another on that river till 16 July, when Marmont, being joined by six thousand men, took the offensive. His skilful manœuvres and the greater mobility of his troops forced the allied army back to the Tormes, and across it.

On 22 July that army was drawn up on the hills south-east of Salamanca, and its baggage was already on the road to Rodrigo. King Joseph was marching from Madrid with fourteen thousand men to join Marmont, and there was now nothing to hinder their junction. Some cavalry, in which arm Marmont was weak, were also on their way to him from the army of the north. But from vanity, as Napoleon not unfairly said (Corresp. 2 Sept.), he gave the opportunity for which Wellington was anxiously watching.


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 Wellesley  that his enemy would escape him, he pushed out two divisions of his left towards the Rodrigo road without waiting for all his army to come up. They were met and repulsed by the third division, under Pakenham, while several other divisions advanced against their flank. A mass of British cavalry fell on the disordered troops, and, as a French officer put it, forty thousand men were beaten in forty minutes (, iv. 296). Marmont was wounded, and Bonnet. Clausel, to whom the command then passed, made a brave stand at the Arapiles, and drew off his troops after nightfall across the Tormes. In this he was aided by the withdrawal of the Spaniards, unknown to Wellington, from the fort of Alba de Tormes. This battle was Wellington's masterpiece: 'There was no mistake; everything went as it ought; and there never was an army so beaten in so short a time' (Desp. 24 July; cf., ii. 120; , Mémoires, iv. 226). The loss of the British and Portuguese was 5,224, that of the French more than twice as much.

Clausel made a rapid retreat to Valladolid, and thence to Burgos, He was not hard pressed, for 'the vigorous following of a beaten enemy was not a prominent characteristic of Lord Wellington's warfare' (, iv. 278); but his army was so disorganised that a fortnight afterwards only twenty-two thousand men had been brought together. Wellington followed him to the Duero, and occupied Valladolid; then, leaving one division and some Spanish troops to watch Clausel, he marched with twenty-eight thousand men upon Madrid. Joseph had been within a few miles of the retreating army of Portugal on the 24th, but, on learning of its defeat, he retired towards Madrid. On Wellington's approach the court quitted that city, and, with the army of the centre, went to join Suchet in Valencia. On 12 Aug. Wellington entered Madrid. He was received with an enthusiasm which he tried to turn to some practical account by a proclamation issued on the 29th.

His object still was to force Soult out of Andalusia, and he was prepared, if necessary, to march there himself. But on 25 Aug., the day on which Joseph joined Suchet at Almanza, Soult, in obedience to the king's reiterated orders, raised the blockade of Cadiz, and began his march to Murcia. Wellington remained at Madrid till 1 Sept. By that time he was satisfied that Soult was not moving on the capital, and he had learnt that the army of Portugal had reoccupied Valladolid. Leaving Hill to cover Madrid, he marched northward with three divisions, hoping to dispose of Clausel before the armies gathering in the south-east were ready to advance. But the Galicians kept him waiting, and Clausel fell back slowly and skilfully behind Burgos, giving no opportunity for a decisive action.

Wellington reached Burgos on 18 Sept., and before going further he thought it necessary to take the castle. It was a poor place, but situated on a steep hill with three successive lines of defence, and it had an excellent garrison of two thousand men. He was doubtful of success from the outset. The want of guns, ammunition, and trained men was even more marked here than before, and he was unwilling to sacrifice British soldiers to make up for it (Desp. 27 Sept.) An outwork was stormed on the 19th, but a month afterwards the main works still held out, though four assaults had been delivered, and the loss of the besiegers exceeded the number of the garrison. The assaults were made by too small parties, and the troops employed were inexperienced (Desp. 23 Nov.;, i. 318-30). Meanwhile the army of Portugal, joined by the army of the north and by other reinforcements, had grown to forty-four thousand men. Souham, who was now in command of it, advanced from the Ebro. Wellington prepared to meet him with thirty-three thousand, more than one-third of whom were Spaniards, and on 20 Oct. a battle was imminent. 'Fortunately they did not attack me: if they had I must have been destroyed,' he wrote (Suppl. Desp. 25 Nov.) Souham received orders from the king not to fight, and Wellington had news next day from Hill which determined him to retreat. He raised the siege, disengaged himself skilfully, and by the 30th he was holding the line of the Duero opposite Tordesillas.

By that time the king, with Soult and fifty-eight thousand men, had reached the Tagus, so that Wellington had on his hands more than a hundred thousand of the enemy as the result of his victory at Salamanca. The expedition from Sicily, which had landed at Alicant under Maitland, though not in such force as had been promised, detained Suchet on the coast; but the Spaniards, as usual, had failed to do their part. The cortes had appointed Wellington generalissimo of the armies of Spain on 22 Sept.; but Ballesteros, instead of threatening the flank of Joseph's army, as he was ordered to do, remained at Granada, and published a protest against the degradation of serving under a foreigner. On the 30th Hill received instructions from Wellington either to join him or to retreat down the Tagus. He


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Rh 'Stay,' said Pierre, bethinking him, that it would be well not to let the man know from whence they had last come, 'I will discharge it myself, thank you.'

So returning to the sidewalk, without debate, he paid the hackman an exorbitant fare, who, anxious to secure such illegal gains beyond all hope of recovery, quickly mounted his box and drove off at a gallop.

'Will you step into the office, sir, now?' said the man, slightly flourishing with his brush—'this way, sir, if you please.'

Pierre followed him, into an almost deserted, dimly lit room with a stand in it. Going behind the stand, the man turned round to him a large ledger-like book, thickly inscribed with names like any directory, and offered him a pen ready dipped in ink.

Understanding the general hint, though secretly irritated at something in the manner of the man, Pierre drew the book to him, and wrote in a firm hand, at the bottom of the last-named column:

'Mr. and Mrs. Pierre Glendinning, and Miss Ulver.'

The man glanced at the writing inquiringly, and then said, 'The other column, sir—where from.'

'True,' said Pierre, and wrote 'Saddle Meadows.'

The very intelligent-looking man re-examined the page, and then slowly stroking his shaven chin, with a fork, made of his thumb for one tine, and his united four fingers for the other, said softly and whisperingly, 'Anywheres in this country, sir?'

'Yes, in the country,' said Pierre, evasively, and bridling his ire. 'But now show me to two chambers, will you; the one for myself and wife, I desire to have opening into another, a third one, never mind how small; but I must have a dressing-room.'

'Dressing-room,' repeated the man, in an ironically deliberative voice—'Dressing-room;—Hem!—You will

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340 have your luggage taken into the dressing-room, then, I suppose.—Oh, I forgot—your luggage ain't come yet—ah, yes, yes, yes—luggage is coming to-morrow—Oh, yes, yes,—certainly—to-morrow—of course. By the way, sir; I dislike to seem at all uncivil, and I am sure you will not deem me so; but——'

'Well,' said Pierre, mustering all his self-command for the coming impertinence.

'When stranger gentlemen come to this house without luggage, we think ourselves bound to ask them to pay their bills in advance, sir; that is all, sir.'

'I shall stay here to-night and the whole of to-morrow, at any rate,' rejoined Pierre, thankful that this was all; 'how much will it be?' and he drew out his purse.

The man's eyes fastened with eagerness on the purse; he looked from it to the face of him who held it; then seemed half hesitating an instant; then brightening up, said, with sudden suavity, 'Never mind, sir, never mind, sir; though rogues sometimes be gentlemanly; gentlemen that are gentlemen never go abroad without their diplomas. Their diplomas are their friends; and their only friends are their dollars; you have a purseful of friends.—We have chambers, sir, that will exactly suit you, I think. Bring your ladies and I will show you up to them immediately.' So saying, dropping his brush, the very intelligent-looking man lighted one lamp, and taking two unlighted ones in his other hand, led the way down the dusky lead-sheeted hall, Pierre following him with Isabel and Delly.

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 BOOK XVII

YOUNG AMERICA IN LITERATURE

I

the various conflicting modes of writing history, there would seem to be two grand practical distinctions, under which all the rest must subordinately range. By the one mode, all contemporaneous circumstances, facts, and events must be set down contemporaneously; by the other, they are only to be set down as the general stream of the narrative shall dictate; for matters which are kindred in time, may be very irrelative in themselves. I elect neither of these; I am careless of either; both are well enough in their way; I write precisely as I please.

In the earlier chapters of this volume, it has somewhere been passingly intimated, that Pierre was not only a reader of the poets and other fine writers, but likewise—and what is a very different thing from the other—a thorough allegorical understander of them, a profound emotional sympathiser with them; in other words, Pierre himself possessed the poetic nature; in himself absolutely, though but latently and floatingly, possessed every whit of the imaginative wealth which he so admired, when by vast painstakings, and all manner of unrecompensed agonies, systematised on the printed page. Not that as yet his young and immature soul had been accosted by the Wonderful Mutes, and through the vast halls of Silent Truth, had been ushered into the full, secret, eternally inviolable Sanhedrim, where the Poetic Magi discuss, in glorious gibberish, the Alpha and Omega of 5em

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342 the Universe. But among the beautiful imaginings of the second and third degree of poets, he freely and comprehendingly ranged.

But it still remains to be said, that Pierre himself had written many a fugitive thing, which had brought him, not only vast credit and compliments from his more immediate acquaintances, but the less partial applauses of the always intelligent, and extremely discriminating public! In short, Pierre had frequently done that, which many other boys have done—published. Not in the imposing form of a book, but in the more modest and becoming way of occasional contributions to magazines and other polite periodicals. His magnificent and victorious début had been made in that delightful love-sonnet, entitled 'The Tropical Summer.' Not only the public had applauded his gemmed little sketches of thought and fancy, whether in poetry or prose; but the high and mighty Campbell clan of editors of all sorts had bestowed upon him those generous commendations, which, with one instantaneous glance, they had immediately perceived was his due. They spoke in high terms of his surprising command of language; they begged to express their wonder at his euphonious construction of sentences; they regarded with reverence the pervading symmetry of his general style. But transcending even this profound insight into the deep merits of Pierre, they looked infinitely beyond, and confessed their complete inability to restrain their unqualified admiration for the highly judicious smoothness and genteelness of the sentiments and fancies expressed. 'This writer,' said one, in an ungovernable burst of admiring fury, 'is characterised throughout by Perfect Taste.' Another, after endorsingly quoting that sapient, suppressed maxim of Dr. Goldsmith's, which asserts that whatever is new is false, went on to apply it to the excellent productions

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Rh before him; concluding with this: 'He has translated the unruffled gentleman from the drawing-room into the general levee of letters; he never permits himself to astonish; is never betrayed into anything coarse or new; as assured that whatever astonishes is vulgar, and whatever is new must be crude. Yes, it is the glory of this admirable young author, that vulgarity and vigour—two inseparable adjuncts—are equally removed from him.'

A third, perorated a long and beautifully written review, by the bold and startling announcement—'This writer is unquestionably a highly respectable youth.'

Nor had the editors of various moral and religious periodicals failed to render the tribute of their severer appreciation, and more enviable, because more chary applause. A renowned clerical and philological conductor of a weekly publication of this kind, whose surprising proficiency in the Greek, Hebrew, and Chaldaic, to which he had devoted by far the greater part of his life, peculiarly fitted him to pronounce unerring judgment upon works of taste in the English, had unhesitatingly delivered himself thus: 'He is blameless in morals, and harmless throughout.' Another, had unhesitatingly recommended his effusions to the family circle. A third, had no reserve in saying, that the predominant end and aim of this author was evangelical piety.

A mind less naturally strong than Pierre's might well have been hurried into vast self-complacency, by such eulogy as this, especially as there could be no possible doubt, that the primitive verdict pronounced by the editors was irreversible, except in the highly improbable event of the near approach of the Millennium, which might establish a different dynasty of taste, and possibly eject the editors. It is true, that in view of the general practical vagueness of these panegyrics, and the circumstance that, in essence, they were all somehow of the

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344 prudently indecisive sort; and, considering that they were panegyrics, and nothing but panegyrics, without anything analytical about them; an elderly friend of a literary turn, had made bold to say to our hero—'Pierre, this is very high praise, I grant, and you are a surprisingly young author to receive it; but I do not see any criticisms as yet.'

'Criticisms?' cried Pierre, in amazement; 'why, sir, they are all criticisms! I am the idol of the critics!'

'Ah!' sighed the elderly friend, as if suddenly reminded that that was true after all—'Ah!' and went on with his inoffensive, non-committal cigar.

Nevertheless, thanks to the editors, such at last became the popular literary enthusiasm in behalf of Pierre, that two young men, recently abandoning the ignoble pursuit of tailoring for the more honourable trade of the publisher (probably with an economical view of working up in books, the linen and cotton shreds of the cutter's counter, after having been subjected to the action of the paper-mill), had on the daintiest scolloped-edged paper, and in the neatest possible, and fine-needlework hand, addressed him a letter, couched in the following terms; the general style of which letter will sufficiently evince that, though—thanks to the manufacturer—their linen and cotton shreds may have been very completely transmuted into paper, yet the cutters themselves were not yet entirely out of the metamorphosing mill.

'Hon. Pierre Glendinning,

 'Revered Sir,

  'The fine cut, the judicious fit of your productions fill us with amazement. The fabric is excellent—the finest broadcloth of genius. We have just started in business. Your pantaloons—productions, we mean—have never yet been collected. They should be published in the Library form. The tailors—we mean the librarians,

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Rh demand it. Your fame is now in its finest nap. Now—before the gloss is off now is the time for the library form. We have recently received an invoice of Chamois——Russia leather. The library form should be a durable form. We respectfully offer to dress your amazing productions in the library form. If you please, we will transmit you a sample of the cloth——we mean a sample-page, with a pattern of the leather. We are ready to give you one-tenth of the profits (less discount) for the privilege of arraying your wonderful productions in the library form:—you cashing the seamstresses'——printer's and binder's bills on the day of publication. An answer at your earliest convenience will greatly oblige,— 'Sir, your most obsequious servants, 3em

'P.S.—We respectfully submit the enclosed block—sheet, as some earnest of our intentions to do everything in your behalf possible to any firm in the trade.

'N.B.—If the list does not comprise all your illustrious wardrobe——works, we mean——, we shall exceedingly regret it. We have hunted through all the drawers——magazines.

'Sample of a coat——title for the works of Glendinning:

THE

COMPLETE WORKS

OF

AUTHOR OF

That world-famed production, 'The Tropical Summer: a Sonnet.

'The Weather: a Thought.' 'Life: an Impromptu.' 'The

late Reverend Mark Graceman: an Obituary.' 'Honour:

a Stanza.' 'Beauty: an Acrostic.' 'Edgar:

an Anagram.' 'The Pippin: a Paragraph.'

&c. &c. &c. &c.

&c. &c. &c.

&c. &c.

&c

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346 From a designer, Pierre had received the following:—

'Sir: I approach you with unfeigned trepidation. For though you are young in age, you are old in fame and ability. I cannot express to you my ardent admiration of your works; nor can I but deeply regret that the productions of such graphic descriptive power, should be unaccompanied by the humbler illustrative labours of the designer. My services in this line are entirely at your command. I need not say how proud I should be, if this hint, on my part, however presuming, should induce you to reply in terms upon which I could found the hope of honouring myself and my profession by a few designs for the works of the illustrious Glendinning. But the cursory mention of your name here fills me with such swelling emotions, that I can say nothing more. I would only add, however, that not being at all connected with the Trade, my business situation unpleasantly forces me to make cash down on delivery of each design, the basis of all my professional arrangements. Your noble soul, however, would disdain to suppose, that this sordid necessity, in my merely business concerns, could ever impair——

'That profound private veneration and admiration 'With which I unmercenarily am, 'Great and good Glendinning, 'Yours most humbly, '.'

II

These were stirring letters. The Library Form! an Illustrated Edition! His whole heart swelled.

But unfortunately it occurred to Pierre, that as all his writings were not only fugitive, but if put together could not possibly fill more than a very small duodecimo; therefore the Library Edition seemed a little premature,

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Rh perhaps; possibly, in a slight degree, preposterous. Then, as they were chiefly made up of little sonnets, brief meditative poems, and moral essays, the matter for the designer ran some small risk of being but meagre. In his inexperience, he did not know that such was the great height of invention to which the designer's art had been carried, that certain gentlemen of that profession had gone to an eminent publishing-house with overtures for an illustrated edition of 'Coke upon Littleton.' Even the City Directory was beautifully illustrated with exquisite engravings of bricks, tongs, and flat-irons.

Concerning the draft for the title-page, it must be confessed, that on seeing the imposing enumeration of his titles—long and magnificent as those preceding the proclamations of some German Prince ('Hereditary Lord of the back-yard of Crantz Jacobi; Undoubted Proprietor by Seizure of the bedstead of the late Widow Van Lorn; Heir Apparent to the Bankrupt Bakery of Fletz and Flitz; Residuary Legatee of the Confiscated Pin-Money of the Late Dowager Dunker; etc. etc. etc.') Pierre could not entirely repress a momentary feeling of elation. Yet did he also bow low under the weight of his own ponderosity, as the author of such a vast load of literature. It occasioned him some slight misgivings, however, when he considered, that already in his eighteenth year, his title-page should so immensely surpass in voluminous statisticals the simple page, which in his father's edition prefixed the vast speculations of Plato. Still, he comforted himself with the thought, that as he could not presume to interfere with the bill-stickers of the Gazelle Magazine, who every month covered the walls of the city with gigantic announcements of his name among the other contributors; so neither could he now—in the highly improbable event of closing with the offer of Messrs. Wonder and Wen—presume to interfere with

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348 the bill-sticking department of their business concern; for it was plain that they esteemed one's title-page but another unwindowed wall, infinitely more available than most walls, since here was at least one spot in the city where no rival bill-stickers dared to encroach. Nevertheless, resolved as he was to let all such bill-sticking matters take care of themselves, he was sensible of some coy inclination toward that modest method of certain kid-gloved and dainty authors, who scorning the vulgarity of a sounding parade, contented themselves with simply subscribing their name to the title-page; as confident, that that was sufficient guarantee to the notice of all true gentlemen of taste. It was for petty German princes to sound their prolonged titular flourishes. The Czar of Russia contented himself with putting the simple word '' to his loftiest decrees.

This train of thought terminated at last in various considerations upon the subject of anonymousness in authorship. He regretted that he had not started his literary career under that mask. At present, it might be too late; already the whole universe knew him, and it was in vain at this late day to attempt to hood himself. But when he considered the essential dignity and propriety at all points, of the inviolably anonymous method, he could not but feel the sincerest sympathy for those unfortunate fellows, who, not only naturally averse to any sort of publicity, but progressively ashamed of their own successive productions—written chiefly for the merest cash—were yet cruelly coerced into sounding title-pages by sundry baker's and butcher's bills, and other financial considerations; inasmuch as the placard of the title-page indubitably must assist the publisher in his sales.

But perhaps the ruling, though not altogether conscious motive of Pierre in finally declining—as he did—the

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Rh services of Messrs. Wonder and Wen, those eager applicants for the privilege of extending and solidifying his fame, arose from the idea that being at this time not very far advanced in years, the probability was, that his future productions might at least equal, if not surpass, in some small degree, those already given to the world. He resolved to wait for his literary canonisation until he should at least have outgrown the sophomorean insinuation of the Law; which, with a singular affectation of benignity, pronounced him an 'infant.' His modesty obscured from him the circumstance, that the greatest lettered celebrities of the time, had, by the divine power of genius, become full graduates in the University of Fame, while yet as legal minors forced to go to their mammas for pennies wherewith to keep them in peanuts.

Not seldom Pierre's social placidity was ruffled by polite entreaties from the young ladies that he would be pleased to grace their Albums with some nice little song. We say that here his social placidity was ruffled; for the true charm of agreeable parlour society is, that there you lose your own sharp individuality and become delightfully merged in that soft social Pantheism, as it were, that rosy melting of all into one, ever prevailing in those drawing-rooms, which pacifically and deliciously belie their own name; inasmuch as there no one draws the sword of his own individuality, but all such ugly weapons are left—as of old—with your hat and cane in the hall. It was very awkward to decline the albums; but somehow it was still worse, and peculiarly distasteful for Pierre to comply. With equal justice apparently, you might either have called this his weakness or his idiosyncrasy. He summoned all his suavity, and refused. And the refusal of Pierre—according to Miss Angelica Amabilia of Ambleside—was sweeter than the compliance of others. But then—prior to the proffer of her

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350 album—in a copse at Ambleside, Pierre in a gallant whim had in the lady's own presence voluntarily carved Miss Angelica's initials upon the bark of a beautiful maple. But all young ladies are not Miss Angelicas. Blandly denied in the parlour, they courted repulse in the study. In lovely envelopes they dispatched their albums to Pierre, not omitting to drop a little attar-of-rose in the palm of the domestic who carried them. While now Pierre—pushed to the wall in his gallantry—shilly-shallied as to what he must do, the awaiting albums multiplied upon him; and by and by monopolised an entire shelf in his chamber; so that while their combined ornate bindings fairly dazzled his eyes, their excessive redolence all but made him to faint, though indeed, in moderation, he was very partial to perfumes. So that of really chilly afternoons, he was still obliged to drop the upper sashes a few inches.

The simplest of all things it is to write in a lady's album. But Cui bono? Is there such a dearth of printed reading, that the monkish times must be revived, and ladies' books be in manuscript? What could Pierre write of his own on Love or anything else, that would surpass what divine Hafiz wrote so many long centuries ago? Was there not Anacreon too, and Catullus, and Ovid—all translated, and readily accessible? And then—bless all their souls!—had the dear creatures forgotten Tom Moore? But the handwriting, Pierre,—they want the sight of your hand. Well, thought Pierre, actual feeling is better than transmitted sight, any day. I will give them the actual feeling of my hand, as much as they want. And lips are still better than hands. Let them send their sweet faces to me, and I will kiss lipographs upon them forever and a day. This was a felicitous idea. He called Dates, and had the albums carried down by the basketful into the dining-room. He opened and spread them

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Rh all out upon the extension-table there; then, modelling himself by the Pope, when His Holiness collectively blesses long crates of rosaries—he waved one devout kiss to the albums; and summoning three servants sent the albums all home, with his best compliments, accompanied with a confectioner's kiss for each album, rolled up in the most ethereal tissue.

From various quarters of the land, both town and country, and especially during the preliminary season of autumn, Pierre received various pressing invitations to lecture before Lyceums, Young Men's Associations, and other Literary and Scientific Societies. The letters conveying these invitations possessed quite an imposing and most flattering aspect to the unsophisticated Pierre. One was as follows:—

' 'Author of the "Tropical Summer," etc. ':—

'Official duty and private inclination in this present case most delightfully blend. What was the ardent desire of my heart, has now by the action of the Committee on Lectures become professionally obligatory upon me. As Chairman of our Committee on Lectures, I hereby beg the privilege of entreating that you will honour this Society by lecturing before it on any subject you may choose, and at any day most convenient to yourself. The subject of Human Destiny we would respectfully suggest, without however at all wishing to impede you in your own unbiased selection.

'If you honour us by complying with this invitation, be assured, sir, that the Committee on Lectures will take

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352 the best care of you throughout your stay, and endeavour to make Zadockprattsville agreeable to you. A carriage will be in attendance at the Stage-house to convey yourself and luggage to the Inn, under full escort of the Committee on Lectures, with the Chairman at their head. 'Permit me to join my private homage 'To my high official consideration for you, 'And to subscribe myself 'Very humbly your servant, '.'

III

But it was more especially the Lecture invitations coming from venerable, gray-headed metropolitan Societies, and indited by venerable, gray-headed Secretaries, which far from elating filled the youthful Pierre with the sincerest sense of humility. Lecture? lecture? such a stripling as I lecture to fifty benches, with ten gray heads on each? five hundred gray heads in all! Shall my one, poor, inexperienced brain presume to lay down the law in a lecture to five hundred life-ripened understandings? It seemed too absurd for thought. Yet the five hundred, through their spokesman, had voluntarily extended this identical invitation to him. Then how could it be otherwise, than that an incipient should slide into Pierre, when he considered all the disgraceful inferences to be derived from such a fact. He called to mind, how that once upon a time, during a visit of his to the city, the police were called out to quell a portentous riot, occasioned by the vast press and contention for seats at the first lecture of an illustrious lad of nineteen, the author of 'A Week at Coney Island.'

It is needless to say that Pierre most conscientiously and respectfully declined all polite overtures of this sort.

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Rh Similar disenchantments of his cooler judgment did likewise deprive of their full lusciousness several other equally marked demonstrations of his literary celebrity. Applications for autographs showered in upon him; but in sometimes humorously gratifying the more urgent requests of these singular people, Pierre could not but feel a pang of regret, that owing to the very youthful and quite unformed character of his handwriting, his signature did not possess that inflexible uniformity, which—for mere prudential reasons, if nothing more—should always mark the hand of illustrious men. His heart thrilled with sympathetic anguish for posterity, which would be certain to stand hopelessly perplexed before so many contradictory signatures of one supereminent name. Alas! posterity would be sure to conclude that they were forgeries all; that no chirographic relic of the sublime poet Glendinning survived to their miserable times.

From the proprietors of the Magazines whose pages were honoured by his effusions, he received very pressing epistolary solicitations for the loan of his portrait in oil, in order to take an engraving therefrom, for a frontispiece to their periodicals. But here again the most melancholy considerations obtruded. It had always been one of the lesser ambitions of Pierre, to sport a flowing beard, which he deemed the most noble corporeal badge of the man, not to speak of the illustrious author. But as yet he was beardless; and no cunning compound of Rowland and Son could force a beard which should arrive at maturity in any reasonable time for, the frontispiece. Besides, his boyish features and whole expression were daily changing. Would he lend his authority to this unprincipled imposture upon Posterity? Honour forbade.

These epistolary petitions were generally couched in an elaborately respectful style; thereby intimating with

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354 what deep reverence his portrait would be handled, while unavoidably subjected to the discipline indispensable to obtain from it the engraved copy they prayed for. But one or two of the persons who made occasional oral requisitions upon him in this matter of his engraved portrait, seemed less regardful of the inherent respect due to every man's portrait, much more, to that of a genius so celebrated as Pierre. They did not even seem to remember that the portrait of any man generally receives, and indeed is entitled to more reverence than the original man himself; since one may freely clap a celebrated friend on the shoulder, yet would by no means tweak his nose in his portrait. The reason whereof may be this: that the portrait is better entitled to reverence than the man; inasmuch as nothing belittling can be imagined concerning the portrait, whereas many unavoidably belittling things can be fancied as touching the man.

Upon one occasion, happening suddenly to encounter a literary acquaintance—a joint editor of the 'Captain Kidd Monthly'—who suddenly popped upon him round a corner, Pierre was startled by a rapid—'Good morning, good morning;—just the man I wanted:—come, step round now with me, and have your Daguerreotype taken;—get it engraved then in no time;—want it for the next issue.'

So saying, this chief mate of Captain Kidd seized Pierre's arm, and in the most vigorous manner was walking him off, like an officer a pickpocket, when Pierre civilly said, 'Pray, sir, hold, if you please, I shall do no such thing.'—'Pooh, pooh—must have it—public property—come along—only a door or two now.'—'Public property!' rejoined Pierre, 'that may do very well for the "Captain Kidd Monthly";—it's very Captain Kiddish to say so. But I beg to repeat that I do not intend to accede.'—'Don't? Really?' cried the other,

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Rh amazedly staring Pierre full in the countenance;—'why bless your soul, my portrait is published—long ago published!'—'Can't help that, sir,' said Pierre. 'Oh! come along, come along,' and the chief mate seized him again with the most uncompunctious familiarity by the arm. Though the sweetest-tempered youth in the world when but decently treated, Pierre had an ugly devil in him sometimes, very apt to be evoked by the personal profaneness of gentlemen of the Captain Kidd school of literature. 'Look you, my good fellow,' said he, submitting to his impartial inspection a determinately double fist,—'drop my arm now—or I'll drop you. To the devil with you and your Daguerreotype!'

This incident, suggestive as it was at the time, in the sequel had a surprising effect upon Pierre. For he considered with what infinite readiness now, the most faithful portrait of anyone could be taken by the Daguerreotype, whereas in former times a faithful portrait was only within the power of the moneyed, or mental aristocrats of the earth. How natural then the inference, that instead of, as in old times, immortalising a genius, a portrait now only dayalised a dunce. Besides, when everybody has his portrait published, true distinction lies in not having yours published at all. For if you are published along with Tom, Dick, and Harry, and wear a coat of their cut, how then are you distinct from Tom, Dick, and Harry? Therefore, even so miserable a motive as down-right personal vanity helped to operate in this matter with Pierre.

Some zealous lovers of the general literature of the age, as well as declared devotees to his own great genius, frequently petitioned him for the materials wherewith to frame his biography. They assured him, that life of all things was most insecure. He might feel many years in him yet; time might go lightly by him; but in any

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356 sudden and fatal sickness, how would his last hours be embittered by the thought, that he was about to depart forever, leaving the world utterly unprovided with the knowledge of what were the precise texture and hue of the first trowsers he wore. These representations did certainly touch him in a very tender spot, not previously unknown to the schoolmaster. But when Pierre considered, that owing to his extreme youth, his own recollections of the past soon merged into all manner of half-memories and a general vagueness, he could not find it in his conscience to present such materials to the impatient biographers, especially as his chief verifying authority in these matters of his past career, was now eternally departed beyond all human appeal. His excellent nurse Clarissa had been dead four years and more. In vain a young literary friend, the well-known author of two Indexes and one Epic, to whom the subject happened to be mentioned, warmly espoused the cause of the distressed biographers; saying that however unpleasant, one must needs pay the penalty of celebrity; it was no use to stand back; and concluded by taking from the crown of his hat the proof-sheets of his own biography, which, with the most thoughtful consideration for the masses, was shortly to be published in the pamphlet form, price only a shilling.

It only the more bewildered and pained him, when still other and less delicate applicants sent him their regularly printed Biographico-Solicito Circulars, with his name written in ink; begging him to honour them and the world with a neat draft of his life, including criticisms on his own writings; the printed circular indiscriminately protesting, that undoubtedly he knew more of his own life than any other living man; and that only he who had put together the great works of Glendinning could be fully qualified thoroughly to analyse them, and cast

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Rh the ultimate judgment upon their remarkable construction.

Now, it was under the influence of the humiliating emotions engendered by things like the above; it was when thus haunted by publishers, engravers, editors, critics, autograph-collectors, portrait-fanciers, biographers, and petitioning and remonstrating literary friends of all sorts; it was then, that there stole into the youthful soul of Pierre, melancholy forebodings of the utter unsatisfactoriness of all human fame; since the most ardent profferings of the most martyrising demonstrations in his behalf,—these he was sorrowfully obliged to turn away.

And it may well be believed, that after the wonderful vital world-revelation so suddenly made to Pierre at the Meadows—a revelation which, at moments, in some certain things, fairly Timonised him—he had not failed to clutch with peculiar nervous detestation and contempt that ample parcel, containing the letters of his Biographico and other silly correspondents, which, in a less ferocious hour, he had filed away as curiosities. It was with an almost infernal grin, that he saw that particular heap of rubbish eternally quenched in the fire, and felt that as it was consumed before his eyes, so in his soul was forever killed the last and minutest undeveloped microscopic germ of that most despicable vanity to which those absurd correspondents thought to appeal.

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Crown 8vo

''HIS Series, which comprises over four hundred volumes in various departments of Literature, has lately received some notable additions. Prominent among these is a new and attractive edition of The Works of Thackeray, issued under the editorship of Mr. Lewis Melville. It contains all the Original Illustrations, and includes a great number of scattered pieces and illustrations which have not hitherto appeared in any collected edition of the works. The Works of Charles Dickens, reprinted from the first editions, with all the Original lustrations, and with Introductions, Biographical and Bibliographical, by Charles Dickens the Younger, and an attractive edition of The Novels of Charles Lever, illustrated by Phiz and G. ''

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2 '', have also a place in the Library. The attention of book buyers may be especially directed to The Border Edition of the Waverley Novels, edited by Mr. Andrew Lang, which, with its large type and convenient form, and its copious illustrations by well-known artists, possesses features placing it in the forefront of editions now obtainable of the famous novels''. The Works of Mr. Thomas Hardy, ''including the poems, have also been recently added to the Three-and-Sixpenny Library. Among other works by notable contemporary authors will be found those of Mr. F. Marion Crawford, Rolf Boldrewood, Mr. H. G. Wells, Gertrude Atherton, Mr. Egerton Castle, Mr. A. E. W. Mason, Maarten Maartens, and Miss Rosa Nouchette Carey; while among the productions of an earlier period may be mentioned the works of Charles Kingsley, Frederick Denison Maurice, Thomas Hughes, and Dean Farrar; and the novels and tales of Charlotte M. Yonge, Mrs. Craik, and'' Mrs. Oliphant.

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Reprints of the First Editions, with all the Original Illustrations, and with Facsimiles of Wrappers, etc.

Messrs. Limited, beg leave to invite the attention of book buyers to the Edition of   in their Three-and-Sixpenny Library, which, when finished, will be the Completest Edition of the Author's Works which has been placed on the market.

The Publishers have been fortunate in securing the services of Mr. the well-known Thackeray Expert. With his assistance they have been able to include in this Edition a  great number of scattered pieces from Thackeray's pen, and illustrations from his pencil which have not hitherto been contained in  any collected edition of the works. Mr. Melville has read all the sheets as they passed through the press, and collated them carefully with the original editions. He has also provided Bibliographical Introductions and occasional Footnotes.

 * 1) Vanity Fair. With 190 Illustrations.
 * 2) The History of Pendennis. With 180 Illustrations.
 * 3) The Newcomes. With 167 Illustrations.
 * 4) The History of Henry Esmond.
 * 5) The Virginians. With 148 Illustrations.
 * 6) Barry Lyndon and Catherine. With 4 Illustrations.
 * 7) The Paris and Irish Sketch Books. With 63 Illustrations.

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Wikisource:WikiProject U.S. Supreme Court cases/Sources

List of Index pages for SCOTUS Reporters.


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 4

THACKERAY'S WORKS—continued.

 * 1) Christmas Books—MRS. PERKINS'S  With 127 Illustrations.
 * 2) Burlesques : From Cornhill to Grand Cairo : and Juvenilia. With 84 Illustrations.
 * 3) The Book of Snobs, and other Contri- butions to Punch With 159 Illustrations.
 * 4) The Yellowplush Correspondence :  Jeames's Diary : The Great Hoggarty Diamond Etc. With 47 Illustrations.
 * 5) Critical Papers in Literature.
 * 6) Critical Papers in Art; Stubbs's Calen- dar : Barber Cox. With 99 Illustrations.
 * 7) Lovel the Widower, and other Stories. With 40 Illustrations.
 * 8) The Fitz-Boodle Papers (including Men's Wives), and various Articles.  8 Illustrations.
 * 9) The English Humourists of the 18th Century : The Four Georges : Etc. 45 Illustrations.
 * 10) Travels in London : Letters to a Young Man about Town : and other Contributions to Punch (1845-1850).  With 73 Illustrations.
 * 11) Ballads and Verses, and Miscellaneous Contributions to Punch.  With 78 Illustrations.
 * 12) A Shabby Genteel Story, and The Adventures of Philip.  With Illustrations.

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 Rh MACMILLAN'S

EXPOSITORY TIMES.— "An edition to do credit even to this publishing house, and not likely to be surpassed until they surpass it with a cheaper and better themselves."

WHITEHALL REVIEW.— "Never before has such a cheap and excellent edition of Thackeray been seen."

ACADEMY.— "A better one-volume edition at three shillings and sixpence could not be desired."

GRAPHIC.— "In its plain but pretty blue binding is both serviceable and attractive."

DAILY GRAPHIC.— "An excellent, cheap reprint."

PALL MALL GAZETTE.— "The size of the books is handy, paper and printing are good, and the binding, which is of blue cloth, is simple but tasteful. Altogether the publishers are to be congratulated upon a reprint which ought to be popular."

GLOBE.— "The paper is thin but good, the type used is clear to read, and the binding is neat and effective."

LADY'S PICTORIAL.— "The paper is good, the type clear and large, and the binding tasteful. Messrs. Macmillan are to be thanked for so admirable and inexpensive an edition of our great satirist."

WORLD.— "Nothing could be better than the new edition."

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LITERARY WORLD.— "The paper and printing and general get up are everything that one could desire. "

ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.— "A clear and pretty edition."

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 6

THE

Reprints of the First Editions, with all the original Illustrations, and with Introductions, Biographical and Bibliographical, by the Younger.

THE PICKWICK PAPERS. With 50 Illustrations.

OLIVER TWIST. With 27 Illustrations.

NICHOLAS NICKLEBY. With 44 Illustrations.

MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. With 41 Illustrations.

THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP. With 97 Illustrations.

BARNABY RUDGE. With 76 Illustrations.

DOMBEY AND SON. With 40 Illustrations.

CHRISTMAS BOOKS. With 65 Illustrations.

SKETCHES BY BOZ. With 44 Illustrations.

AMERICAN NOTES AND PICTURES FROM ITALY. With 4 Illustrations.

DAVID COPPERFIELD. With 40 Illustrations.

BLEAK HOUSE. With 43 Illustrations.

LITTLE DORRIT. With 40 Illustrations.

THE LETTERS OF CHARLES DICKENS.

A TALE OF TWO CITIES. With 15 Illustrations.

GREAT EXPECTATIONS; HARD TIMES.

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MACMILLAN'S

ATHENÆUM.— "Handy in form, well printed, illustrated with reproductions of the original plates, introduced with bibliographical notes by the novelist's son, and above all issued at a most moderate price, this edition will appeal successfully to a large number of readers."

SPEAKER.— "We do not think there exists a better edition."

MORNING POST.—" The edition will be highly appreciated."

SCOTSMAN.— " This reprint offers peculiar attractions. Of a handy size, in one volume, of clear, good-sized print, and with its capital comic illustrations, it is a volume to be desired."

NEWCASTLE CHRONICLE.— "The most satisfactory edition of the book that has been issued."

GLASGOW HERALD.— "None of the recent editions of Dickens can be compared with that which Messrs. Macmillan inaugurate with the issue of Pickwick. . . . Printed in a large, clear type, very readable. "

GLOBE.— "They have used an admirably clear type and good paper, and the binding is unexceptionable. . . . May be selected as the most desirable cheap edition of the immortal 'Papers' that has ever been offered to the public."

MANCHESTER EXAMINER.—" Handy in form, well printed, illustrated with reduced reproductions of the original plates, introduced with bibliographical notes by the novelist's son, and above all issued at a moderate price, this edition will appeal successfully to a large number of readers."

THE QUEEN.— "A specially pleasant and convenient form in which to re-read Dickens."

THE STAR.—"This new 'Dickens Series,' with its reproductions of the original illustrations, is a joy to the possessor."

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''Complete in Twenty-Four Volumes. Crowm 8vo, tastefully bound in green cloth, gilt. Price 3s. 6d. each.''

''In special cloth binding, flat backs, gilt tops. Supplied in Sets only of 24 volumes. Price £4 4s. ''

''Also an edition with all the 250 original etchings. In 24 volumes. Crown 8vo, gilt tops. Price 6s. each''.

THE LARGE TYPE

BORDER EDITION OF THE

INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS AND NOTES

ANDREW LANG

SUPPLEMENTING THOSE OF THE AUTHOR.

With Two Hundred and Fifty New and Original Illustrations by Eminent Artists.

Y the kind permission of the Hon. Mrs. of Abbotsford, the great-granddaughter of Sir  the  and other material at Abbotsford were examined by Mr. during the preparation of his Introductory Essays and Notes to the Series, so that the may be said to contain all the results of the latest researches as to the composition of the Waverley Novels.

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 * 1) WAVERLEY. With 12 Illustrations by Sir H. RAEBURN, R.A., R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., JOHN PETTIE, R.A., H. MACBETH-RAEBURN, D. HERDMAN, W. J. LEITCH, ROBERT HERDMAN, R.S.A., and J. ECKFORD LAUDER.
 * 2) GUY MANNERING. With 10 Illustrations by J. MACWHIRTER, A.R.A., R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., C. O. MURRAY, CLARK STANTON, R.S.A., GOURLAY STEELL, R.S.A., F. S. WALKER, R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., and J. B. MACDONALD, A.R.S.A.
 * 3) THE ANTIQUARY. With 10 Illustrations by J. MACWHIRTER, A.R.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., W. M'TAGGART, A.R.S.A., J. B. MACDONALD, A.R.S.A., and A. H. TOURRIER.
 * 4) ROB ROY. With 10 Illustrations by R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., and SAM BOUGH, R.S.A.
 * 5) OLD MORTALITY. With 10 Illustrations by J. MACWHIRTER, A.R.A., R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., M. L. Gow, D. Y. CAMERON, LOCKHART BOGLE, and ALFRED HARTLEY.
 * 6) THE HEART OF MIDLOTHIAN. With 10 Illustrations by Sir J. E. MILLAIS, Bart, HUGH CAMERON, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., R. HERDMAN, R.S.A., and WAI PAGET.
 * 7) A LEGEND OF MONTROSE and THE BLACK DWARF. With 7 Illustrations by Sir GEORGE REID, P. R.S.A., GEORGE HAY, R.S.A., HORATIO MACCULLOCH, R.S.A., W. E. LOCKHART, R.S.A., H. MACBETH-RAEBURN, and T. SCOTT.
 * 8) THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR. With 8 Illustrations by Sir J. E. MILLAIS, Bart, JOHN SMART, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., GEORGE HAY, R.S.A., and H. MACBETH-RAEBURN.
 * 9) IVANHOE. With 12 Illustrations by AD. LALAUZE,
 * 10) THE MONASTERY. With 10 Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE.
 * 11) THE ABBOT. With 10 Illustrations by GORDON BROWNE.

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 * 1) KENILWORTH. With 12 Illustrations by AD. LALAUZE.
 * 2) THE PIRATE. With 10 Illustrations by W. E. LOCKHART, R.S.A., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., HERBERT DICKSEE, W. STRANG, LOCKHART BOGLE, C. J. HOLMES, and F. S. WALKER.
 * 3) THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL. With 10 Illustrations by JOHN PETTIE, R.A., and R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A.
 * 4) PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. With 15 Illustrations by W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A. JOHN PETTIE, R.A., F. DADD, R.I., ARTHUR HOPKINS, A.R.W.S., and S. L. WOOD.
 * 5) QUENTIN DURWARD. With 12 Illustrations by AD. LALAUZE.
 * 6) ST. RONAN'S WELL. With 10 Illustrations by Sir G. REID, P.R.S.A., R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A., W. HOLE, R.S.A., and A. FORESTIER.
 * 7) REDGAUNTLET. With 12 Illustrations by Sir JAMES D. LINTON, P.R.I., JAMES ORROCK, R.I., SAM BOUGH, R.S.A., W. HOLE, R.S.A., G. HAY, R.S.A., T. SCOTT, A.R.S.A., W. BOUCHER, and FRANK SHORT.
 * 8) THE BETROTHED and THE TALISMAN. With 10 Illustrations by HERBERT DICKSEE, WAL. PAGET, and J. LE BLANT.
 * 9) WOODSTOCK. With 10 Illustrations by W. HOLE. R.S.A.
 * 10) THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH. With 10 Illustrations by Sir G. REID, P.R.S.A., JOHN PETTIE, R.A., R. W MACBETH, A.R.A., and ROBERT HERDMAN, R.S.A.
 * 11) ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. With 10 Illustrations by R. DE Los Rios.
 * 12) COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS and THE SURGEON'S DAUGHTER. With 10 Illustrations by W. HATHERELL, R.I., and W. B. WOLLEN, R.I.
 * 13) CASTLE DANGEROUS, CHRONICLES OF THE CANON-GATE, ETC. With 10 Illustrations by H. MACBETH-RAE-BURN and G. D. ARMOUR

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TIMES.— "It would be difficult to find in these days a more competent and sympathetic editor of Scott than his countryman, the brilliant and versatile man of letters who has undertaken the task, and if any proof were wanted either of his qualifications or of his skill and discretion in displaying them, Mr. Lang has furnished it abundantly in his charming Introduction to 'Waverley.' The editor's own notes are judiciously sparing, but conspicuously to the point, and they are very discreetly separated from those of the author, Mr. Lang's laudable purpose being to illustrate and explain Scott, not to make the notes a pretext for displaying his own critical faculty and literary erudition. The illustrations by various competent hands are beautiful in themselves and beautifully executed, and, altogether, the 'Border Edition' of the Waverley Novels bids fair to become the classical edition of the great Scottish classic."

SPECTATOR.— " We trust that this fine edition of our greatest and most poetical of novelists will attain, if it has not already done so, the high popularity it deserves. To all Scott's lovers it is a pleasure to know that, despite the daily and weekly inrush of ephemeral fiction, the sale of his works is said by the booksellers to rank next below Tennyson's in poetry, and above that of everybody else in prose."

ANTHENÆUM.— "The handsome 'Border Edition' has been brought to a successful conclusion. The publisher deserves to be complimented on the manner in which the edition has been printed and illustrated, and Mr. Lang on the way in which he has performed his portion of the work. His introductions have been tasteful and readable; he has not overdone his part; and, while he has supplied much useful information, he has by no means overburdened the volumes with notes."

NOTES AND QUERIES.— "This spirited and ambitious enterprise has been conducted to a safe termination, and the most ideal edition of the Waverley Novels in existence is now completed."

SATURDAY REVIEW.— "Of all the many collections of the Waverley Novels, the 'Border Edition' is incomparably the most handsome and the most desirable. . . . Type, paper, illustrations, are altogether admirable."

MAGAZINE OF ART.— "Size, type, paper, and printing, to say nothing of the excessively liberal and charming introduction of the illustrations, make this perhaps the most desirable edition of Scott ever issued on this side of the Border."

DAILY CHRONICLE.— "There is absolutely no fault to be found with it, as to paper, type, or arrangement."

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THE WORKS OF

Collected Edition

 * 1) TESS OF THE D'URBERVILLES.
 * 2) FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD.
 * 3) THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE.
 * 4) A PAIR OF BLUE EYES.
 * 5) TWO ON A TOWER.
 * 6) THE RETURN OF THE NATIVE.
 * 7) THE WOODLANDERS.
 * 8) JUDE THE OBSCURE.
 * 9) THE TRUMPET-MAJOR.
 * 10) THE HAND OF ETHELBERTA.
 * 11) A LAODICEAN.
 * 12) DESPERATE REMEDIES.
 * 13) WESSEX TALES.
 * 14) LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES.
 * 15) A GROUP OF NOBLE DAMES.
 * 16) UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.
 * 17) THE WELL-BELOVED.
 * 18) WESSEX POEMS, and other Verses.
 * 19) POEMS OF THE PAST AND THE PRESENT.

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 Rh THE

PALL MALL GAZETTE.—". . . their charming edition of the works of Thomas Hardy . . . the price asked for it ... is absurdly cheap. . . . Any more convenient and beautiful form of presentation for these books it would be difficult to find."

ATHENÆUM.— "This edition is so comely and so moderate in price that it may well placate those who have sighed for earlier issues out of their reach. Mr. Hardy's prefaces to the volumes should not be missed, for they are models of a difficult art, whether reflective, informative, or combative."

UNIFORM EDITION OF THE

With all the Original Illustrations.

 * 1) HARRY LORREQUER. Illustrated by PHIZ.
 * 2) CHARLES O'MALLEY. Illustrated by PHIZ.
 * 3) JACK HINTON THE GUARDSMAN. Illustrated by PHIZ.
 * 4) TOM BURKE OF OURS. Illustrated by PHIZ.
 * 5) ARTHUR O'LEARY. Illustrated by G. CRUIKSHANK.
 * 6) LORD KILGOBBIN. Illustrated by LUKE FlLDES.

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THE NOVELS OF

ATHENÆUM.— "A work of unusual ability.... It fully deserves the notice it is sure to attract."

ATHENÆUM.— "Few recent books have been so difficult to lay down when once begun."

TIMES.— "A masterpiece of narrative. . . . Unlike any other romance in English literature."

GUARDIAN.— "An instance of the highest and noblest form of novel. . . . Alike in the originality of its conception and the power with which it is wrought out, it stands on a level that is almost entirely its own."

TIMES.— "A subtle compound of artistic feeling, avarice, malice, and criminal frenzy is this carver of silver chalices and crucifixes."

GUARDIAN.— "The tale is written with all Mr. Crawford's skill."

ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.— "Those who neglect to read Paul Patoff will throw away a very pleasurable opportunity."

SPECTATOR.— "Cannot fail to please a reader who enjoys crisp, clear, vigorous working, and thoughts that are alike original and suggestive."

SPECTATOR.— "Altogether, we like Greifenstein decidedly—so much so as to doubt whether it does not dislodge A Roman Singer from the place hitherto occupied by the latter as our favourite amongst Mr. Crawford's novels."

PALL MALL GAZETTE.— "Cannot fail to be read with interest and pleasure by all to whom clever characterisation and delicate drawing make appeal."

SPEAKER.— "There is something in A Rose of Yesterday which makes the book linger with a distinct aroma of its own in the reader's memory."

ATHENÆUM.— "The plot is skilfully concocted, and the interest is sustained to the end. . . . A very clever piece of work."

GLOBE.— "We are inclined to think this is the best of Mr. Marion Crawford's stories."

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