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290 "Just one other question—it may be unfair, but I trust not—do you like him?"

"No," returned Hart honestly, "I don't."

Miss Hollingsworth started walking forward again, and now she changed the direction of conversation without leaving the subject.

"Do you really think that he understood exactly what you said last night, and just did not wish to try to answer you?"

"Yes," said Hart, "I think that's it. His answer would have been worth listening to. He is not a random talker by any means."

"Well, let's drop him for a moment," said Madge, with a nervous laugh, "and talk about yourself. This is your senior year now, isn't it? What are you going to do when you leave? Don't think me impertinent, asking you so many questions! pray don't!"

"Think you impertinent!" ejaculated Hart, "if you only knew—" He checked himself. "Your interest is very kind; thank you for it," he went on. "But to answer you I—have not exactly decided what I shall do. I might do as a friend of mine has done, and try teaching school; but I don't think that it would suit me altogether. I would like something else better."

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Rh "Something broader, you mean," said Madge. "Something bigger than explaining text-books. I should think that you might make a good lawyer."

"That was my ambition when I first came to college."

"Have you another now? You don't appear to me to be a man who would give up easily."

"Thank you."

They sat down upon the edge of a rock, and Miss Hollingsworth asked him something about a statement that he had made in his little speech at the dinner.

What a grand pleasure it was thus to talk to her. All feeling of constraint left him, and to talk to a woman who is really interested and appreciates, is one of the greatest delights that a man can have on earth, especially if it gives him an excuse to look into her eyes, and to hear her voice replying to his. Neither of them noticed how quickly the time passed, until suddenly Madge raised her head.

"Here comes Mamma now," she said. "And Mary Bliss. It must be nearly luncheon time at the Inn."

Hart turned around and saw a tall woman

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292 approaching. Mary scarcely reached to her shoulder as she waved her hand. "How d' ye do?" she called. The elder woman regarded him through her lorgnette as he stepped forward.

"Mr. Hart, Mamma," said Miss Hollingsworth, "Kenmore's friend at Princeton."

Mrs. Hollingsworth spoke in a deep chest-voice without evidence of much feeling.

"I am glad to be able to thank you, Mr. Hart, and I suppose my daughter already has done so; Kenmore told us of your brave deed and the risk you ran."

"I think it was perfectly splendid," put in Miss Bliss. "Ned wrote us all about it at the time."

"Mr. Hart will take luncheon with us, of course," said Mrs. Hollingsworth, "and really we are quite late now. We had better go back at once, Madge."

She started down the path, the three young people following behind her.

As they came into the dining-room of the Inn, Raymond Danforth rose from a corner. He greeted Hart quite cordially, but his presence lent rather a constraint throughout the

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1542.] A partition of the Netherlands had been discussed too often to sound either strange or startling. Two years before Henry had suggested it to Francis, and Francis had then betrayed the intention to the Emperor. But times were changed. Charles had given up his ambition of invading England; and the English Government was at leisure to calculate which of the two powers was most likely to observe its engagements. From the good feeling of neither had Henry much to expect. One prince had intended to dethrone him; the other now wished to cheat him out of his money. But the commerce between Flanders and England had survived the dissensions between their sovereigns, and the revenues of the Low Countries depended on the prosperity of their trade. As the summer drew on, Charles's embarrassments were known to be increasing, and his scrupulousness must proportionately diminish. The Admiral's proposals sounded well; but experience had proved that the Reforming faction at Paris were too weak to control permanently the direction of French policy, while if Charles was laid under obligations to England, and on the other side appeared an unnatural and monstrous combination between Francis, Paul, and Solyman, it was possible that the difficulties of Europe might be settled at last by Henry's favourite project—a council under the auspices of himself and the Emperor, where England and Germany might be freely represented. On this side the balance seemed to incline; and the course which the different Courts would pursue was anticipated by the instinct of popular judgment, before


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Rh luncheon, to Hart's mind, at least, although Danforth was affability itself.

Newton returned to Mrs. Carter's as soon as luncheon was over. He swung along at a rapid pace in high spirits. He was going to see her again, for Miss Hollingsworth told him that they expected to be in the neighborhood of Coverley for some time. Despite the handsome place they owned at Hilltop, they generally spent a fortnight here during the last weeks of summer.

There is but one more episode to dwell upon before Hart's return to college work. A day or so after the talk on the rocks there was a dance at the Coverley Country Club. Newton went on Mrs. Carter's invitation. As he entered the big room he passed close to Mrs. Trevellian and Danforth, who were talking together in a corner.

"Well, I wish you every success, my dear boy," Mrs. Trevellian was saying, "for many reasons, and anything I can do to help, you know I'll do it."

"Well, I don't intend to give up, you can rest assured of that," said Danforth, closing his jaws.

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Maitland his first pamphlet, ‘A Dissertation on the Primary Objects of Idolatrous Worship,’ which is remarkable for its range of curious learning; but the subject could not attract readers. Jacob Bryant's writings, against which it was directed, were already almost forgotten, and the new school had not yet been thought of. About this time Maitland left London and settled at Taunton, and during the next three or four years his religious views appear to have been gradually changing. On 27 June 1821 he was admitted to deacon's orders at Norwich by Bishop Bathurst, and licensed to the curacy of St. Edmund in that city—a parish where the rector, the Rev. Charles David Brereton, was non-resident. Maitland did not stay long at Norwich, and was admitted to priest's orders by Bishop Ryder of Gloucester; his father having recently retired to that city, father and son living next door to one another. On 22 May 1823 he became perpetual curate of Christ Church, at Gloucester, which had been recently built, and this preferment he held till the end of 1827, when he determined to make a journey to the continent. He had been for some time greatly interested in the subject of the conversion of the Jews, and he wished to see the working of the society among the Jews in Germany and Poland. He started, accordingly, in April 1828, travelling through France, and thence through Germany and Prussia as far as Warsaw. He remained abroad till the autumn, and a series of thirty-six letters written during his absence, which have been preserved, give a very graphic and valuable description of the various places at which he stopped, and the condition of the countries through which he passed. During this journey he made himself master of German, acquired some knowledge of Polish, and his considerable knowledge of Hebrew, and especially Mishnaic literature, proved of advantage to him in his intercourse with the Jewish converts and inquirers. During his absence abroad he published ‘A Letter to the Rev. Charles Simeon,’ in which he strongly advocated the establishment of an institution which might serve as a place of refuge for Jewish converts who only wished to earn their livelihood, and were debarred from doing so when they became avowedly Christians. The proposal commended itself to philanthropists at home, and was at once acted upon, Maitland himself guaranteeing the expense for two years.

Towards the end of Maitland's incumbency at Christ Church, the religious world throughout England had been greatly moved by the eloquence of [q. v.]; and a large school of well-meaning readers of the Scriptures had devoted themselves to what was called the interpretation of the prophecies on the theory first propounded in the twelfth century by Abbot Joachim, and which usually goes by the name of the Year-day Theory. As early as 1826 Maitland had felt very grave doubts as to whether this theory was tenable, and had put forth a pamphlet which he called ‘An Enquiry into the Grounds on which the Prophetic Period of Daniel and St. John has been supposed to consist of 1260 Years.’ The pamphlet attracted great attention, and was the occasion of a paper war, which continued for some years. The result was that the ‘Year-day Theory’ was absolutely demolished by the overwhelming learning and critical ability of the one man who was more than a match for all his assailants. But as one of the side issues in the controversy turned upon the question of the orthodoxy, or rather the protestantism, of the Albigenses and the Waldenses, whom [q. v.], in his ‘Church History,’ had claimed as among the ‘Heavenly Witnesses’ during the middle ages, Maitland set himself to the task of an exhaustive examination of the tenets of those sectaries, and in 1832 he published, in a volume of 546 pages, his most elaborate work entitled ‘Facts and Documents illustrative of the History, Doctrine, and Rites of the ancient Albigenses and Waldenses.’ The book must be regarded as one of the most masterly monographs in ecclesiastical history which have appeared in England; and, as such, it has been recognised by theologians of all schools at home and abroad. In this volume Maitland had allowed himself to speak with something like contempt of Milner's ‘Church History’ [6th edit. 5 vols. 1824, 8vo; revised and continued by the author's brother, Isaac], a book which, for want of anything better, had for some time been looked upon as a standard work by a large section of the clergy and others. This tone of disparagement had caused much offence in some quarters, and again Maitland was attacked in print, and was compelled to justify his language. But by this time it began to be felt that he was an antagonist whom it was better to leave alone; and although he was not averse to engage in polemics, and did do so when in his judgment it was necessary to vindicate any position he had taken up, the last thirty years of his life were free from such annoyances, as ‘unlearned and ignorant men’ had caused him in the first half of his career.

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294 Despite the smallness of his features, his face had a certain strength and determination.

Suddenly his cousin touched him on the arm.

"Look," she said; "watch your tall college friend. He's looking for her, too."

Hart's eyes were searching the room. All at once he caught sight of Madge sitting opposite; Miss Bliss was beside her. They both nodded to him, and he crossed over to them.

"I am not afraid of that sort," said Danforth with a sneer.

In answer, Mrs. Trevellian merely raised her eyebrows.

"Then you are not so clever as I thought you were," she said. "I think she likes him. Does he dance?"

"Not that I know of," Danforth replied.

"Well, then, go over at once and take her out. I know Mrs. Hollingsworth very well; I may be able to do you a good turn."

"Oh, I'm friends enough with the old lady," said Danforth, rising. "I think she'd like it well enough."

With that he walked across the room. Miss Bliss frowned a little as she saw him approaching, but in another instant he had placed his

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508 overt acts had declared it to the world. In the middle of May rumours were flying in Paris of a war with England. In June the belief was general in Europe that the Emperor had privately married the Princess Mary. The debt to England, the impossibility of paying it, and the consequent reasonableness of a quarrel, was in every Frenchman's mouth. The Orleans marriage was no more alluded to. The anti-English party were in the ascendant, and gave the tone to public feeling. Cardinal Beton was again at the Court, and in Beton's presence the Archbishop of Paris affected to complain to Paget of the eagerness of the people.

'It were alms to whip them,' he said. 'But the devil cannot stop them but they will be in the midst of the King's council, and say we shall have war with the Emperor, and the King of England will take the Emperor's part; but if he do, we shall send thither the


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Maitland [q. v.] was at that time the editor. Between him and Maitland a close friendship had grown up, and at his suggestion those remarkable papers were contributed to the ‘British Magazine,’ which appeared month by month during the next ten or twelve years, and which were eventually collected into two volumes, and have left a profound impress upon our historical literature. The first of these volumes appeared in 1844, under the title of ‘The Dark Ages: a Series of Essays intended to illustrate the State of Religion and Literature in the ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth Centuries.’ The second was issued five years later, as ‘Essays on Subjects connected with the Reformation in England.’ In 1838 Archbishop Howley appointed Maitland librarian and keeper of the manuscripts at Lambeth. The stipend attaching to the office was merely nominal; the duties just as light or just as onerous as the librarian was disposed to make them—the opportunities for study and research exactly such as a lover of learning would value highly. But no preferment followed. The archbishop indeed conferred the degree of D.D. upon his librarian; but when in 1848 Archbishop Sumner succeeded, Maitland returned to Gloucester an unbeneficed clergyman, never having even received the offer of preferment, nor any substantial recognition at the hands of high or low. Meanwhile, he was elected a fellow of the Royal Society in 1839, and when Hugh James Rose died in this same year, Maitland became editor of the ‘British Magazine,’ and carried it on till 1849, when it was discontinued. The magazine after Rose's death became more and more literary and historical in its tone; and Maitland, while he had incurred the deep dislike of the evangelical party by his severe handling of many of their leaders, not to speak of his merciless criticism of Milner, Foxe the martyrologist, and many another, had become an object of suspicion to the tractarians, ‘whom he declined to follow in their later developments,’ by his ‘Letter to a Friend on Tract No. 89,’ which he issued in 1841, and republished in the curious little volume of ‘Eight Essays,’ which was printed in 1852. After his return to Gloucester and until his death Maitland lived in retirement, passing his time in amassing an immense store of varied learning, and yet interesting himself in all the literary questions of the day. He was a very active supporter of W. J. Thoms, when ‘Notes and Queries’ was first started, and a frequent contributor to the earlier volumes, sometimes under the signature of ‘Rufus,’ sometimes giving his full name. The list of his work shows how prolific a writer he was, and how wide his sympathies were. He was a man of many accomplishments, he was a considerable musician, he had great skill as a draughtsman, he kept a small printing-press in his house, and tried his hand at bookbinding among other things. His conversational powers were very brilliant, and he was very accessible to young students, whom he was always glad to help and advise. His influence, direct and indirect, upon those who were pursuing historical studies, especially at Cambridge, was far greater than is generally known. Such men as Archdeacon Hardwicke, J. G. Dowling, Canon J. C. Robertson, Dr. Luard, Professor J. E. B. Mayor, were proud to acknowledge their deep obligations to him. Animated by a rare desire after simple truth, generously candid and free from all pretence or pedantry, he wrote in a style which was peculiarly sparkling, lucid, and attractive. Few men of his generation were more stimulating and suggestive.

Maitland died at Gloucester on 19 Jan. 1866, in his seventy-fifth year. He survived his wife (Selina, daughter of Christopher Stephenson, vicar of Olney) and son, [q. v.]

His works are:  ‘A Dissertation on the Primary Objects of Idolatrous Worship,’ 1817.  ‘An Enquiry into the Grounds on which the Prophetic Period of Daniel and St. John has been supposed to consist of 1,260 Years,’ 8vo, 1826; 2nd edit., pp. 72, 1837.  ‘Saint Bernard's Holy War Translated’ (by the Rev. S. R. Maitland), with title-page etched by the translator, 12mo, 1827 (a tiny volume, the title-page evidently the work of an amateur).  ‘A Letter to the Rev. Charles Simeon’ (Warsaw), 21 July 1828; 2nd edit. 1828.  ‘A Second Enquiry,’ pp. 175, 1829.  ‘The 1,260 Days, in Reply to a Review in the “Morning Watch,” No. 3, p. 509,’ 1830.  ‘An Attempt to elucidate the Prophecies concerning Antichrist,’ 1830; 2nd edit. 1853.  ‘A Letter to the Rev. W. Digby, A.M., occasioned by his Treatise on the 1,260 Days’ (Gloucester, 25 Oct.), 1831.  ‘Eruvin, or Miscellaneous Essays on Subjects connected with the Nature, History, and Destiny of Man,’ 12mo, 1831; 2nd edit. 16mo, 1850.  ‘Facts and Documents illustrative of the History, Doctrine, and Rites of the Ancient Albigenses and Waldenses,’ pp. 546, 1832.  ‘The Voluntary System.’ Forty-two Letters reprinted from the ‘Gloucestershire Chronicle,’ 12mo, 1834; 2nd edit. 1837.  ‘The 1,260 Days, in Reply to the Strictures of William Cunningham, Esq.,’ pp. viii and 118, 1834.  ‘The Translation of Bishops,’ pp. 24, 1834.  ‘A Letter to the Rev. Hugh James Rose, B.D., Chaplain to his </ol>


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1542.] Scots, the Danes, and the Swedes to eat up all the Englishmen in four days.'

'Englishmen,' replied Paget, quietly, 'be not easy morsels to swallow; and their operation is such that, if any man take upon him to eat them, they will cause him with the sight thereof straight to burst.' 'The Scots know it well enough,' he added, for the Cardinal's benefit; 'and as for the Danes and Swedes, they be wise fellows, and know that they that come into England cannot depart thence without license and passport of the King's Majesty.' This was but the play of wit upon the surface; but it indicated the direction of the current, and the substantial fact became every day more visible, that the French would neither pay the arrears of their debts nor continue the pension. They were confident of Scotland. The will of James was the will of David Beton, and if Henry 'made any business with France, the Scottish King would straight molest him.' 'As touching the pension,' Paget wrote again in August to the King, 'they love not to hear of it, and that I note, not only now and heretofore, both by words and countenance in all my conferences, as well with the admiral as with the French King, and from the Cardinal Tournon's mouth, by the report of his secretary, that the French King thought none other but that your Majesty would join with the Emperor against him, but also by the report of the


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Maitland pointed to the command of the Wellesley, flagship, on the East India station, of Sir Frederick Lewis Maitland [q. v.], and after Sir Frederick's death of Sir J. J. Gordon Bremer [q. v.]. He thus had an active share in the operations in the Persian Gulf in 1839, and during the first Chinese war in 1840-1. He was nominated a C.B. on 29 June 1841, knighted in 1843, and promoted to the rank of rear-admiral on 18 June 1857. In 1869 he was examined by the commission appointed 'to consider the Defences of the United Kingdom,' when he spoke strongly against the building of the proposed fortifications at an expenditure of money which 'might be more profitably laid out in building ships; because,' he said, 'if you can secure being masters of the Channel, I do not see any absolute necessity, as far as security goes, for fortifying Spithead.' From 1860 to 1863 he was commander-in-chief in the Pacific. On 22 March 1863, on the death of his cousin, the tenth Earl of Lauderdale, he succeeded to the title, and to the hereditary offices of standard-bearer of Scotland and marshal of the royal household. On 30 Nov. 1863 he was promoted to be vice-admiral. He was nominated a K.C.B., on 28 March 1866, and G.C.B. 24 May 1873. He became an admiral, 8 April 1868, and, by a special promotion, admiral of the fleet on the retired list, 27 Dec. 1877. He died on 1 Sept. 1878. He married in 1828 Amelia, daughter of William Young of Rio de Janeiro, but, leaving no male issue, the title passed to a distant cousin. Mary Jane, his only surviving daughter, married Reginald Brabazon, twelfth earl of Meath.

 MAITLAND, WILLIAM (1528?–1573), of Lethington, known as the 'Secretary Lethington,' eldest son of Sir Richard Maitland [q. v.], was born about 1528. He was educated at the university of St. Andrews, end afterwards studied on the continent. Both Knox (Works, i. 247) and Buchanan (Hist. Scotl. bk. xvi.) refer to his learning, and Elizabeth described him as the 'flower of the wits of Scotland.' His letters abound in literary allusions, and some of his epigrams have passed into proverbs. In 1554 he was employed in the service of the queen-regent, and a pension of 150l. was paid to him on this account (note to Knox, (Works, ii. 6). In February 1557-8 he went on an embassy to Queen Mary of England (Cal. State Papers, For. Ser. p. 106), and in March to France in connection with the negotiations which resulted in the treaty of Cambray (ib. p. 107). Although mentioned by Knox as having in 1556 become persuaded of the unlawfulness of the mass (Works, i. 247), he remained in the service of the queen-regent till October 1559, when he delivered himself up to Kirkcaldy of Grange, explaining that his life was in danger from his outspokenness on religion, and affirming that there was nothing in the heart of the queen-regent but 'craft and deceit' (ib. p. 464). Dread of her political rather than her religious designs seems to have led to his decision, for he states that he had come to see that the French, in the support they had rendered to Scotland, had of late been actuated solely by 'ambition and insatiable cupidity to reign and to make Scotland accessory to the crown of France' (20 Jan. 1559-60, in App. to, 3rd edit. ii. 313]). It was probably the revelations of Maitland that induced Huntly, Sutherland, and other catholics to declare against the queen-regent. The lords now availed themselves of his invaluable services in negotiating an agreement with Elizabeth, and henceforth he appears as the earnest advocate of an alliance with England. He set out on his embassy in November (Instructions in, i. 604-8), and remaining some time in London, made arrangements for the treaty of Berwick, 27 Feb. 1559-60 (, ii. 46-52), by which Elizabeth agreed to send a force to the help of the lords. Besides entering into close, confidential relations with Cecil, he charmed both Elizabeth and Lady Cecil by his wit and learning.

Maitland was chiefly instrumental in persuading the lords to agree to the treaty of Edinburgh of 6 July (, 25 June, Cal. Hatfield MSS. pt. i. p. 241;, p. 333), which bound the king and queen of France to abandon their rights to the English throne. In this he was probably influenced by the menace from French designs to Scottish independence, for, even before the treaty, he had mooted to Elizabeth a proposal for deriving Mary of the throne of Scotland (, ii. 453;, i. 110). He acted as speaker of the Scottish parliament in August, at which it was agreed to 'move Queen Elizabeth to take the Earl of Arran to her husband' (Acta Parl. Scot. ii. 606). As he was one of those chosen to make the proposal to Elizabeth, he may at one time have favoured it, but if so his knowledge, both of Elizabeth's disinclination and of Arran's mental incapacity, soon led him entirely to change his opinion, for he privately intimated to Cecil that he had consented to be one of the commissioners merely to 'maintain amitie with the duke and my Lord of Arran' (18 Aug.,, vi. 116). The commissioners,


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510 ambassador of Ferrara, who said to me, discoursing with me of the world, that he would that the marriage between the Duke of Orleans and your Majesty's daughter had gone forward; and when I answered that so would I, but that the demand was too unreasonable, he answered, it had been as good to have quit the debt that way as never to have it paid. Why should it never be paid? quoth I. Marry, quoth he, for the French King saith that you have broken league with him, and therefore he may with honour break league with you. I marvel he would say so, quoth I, for we have broken no league with him. I assure you, quoth he, whensoever you shall ask your pension earnestly, look to make a breach with them.'

By this time hostilities with the Empire had commenced. Francis, to gain the advantage of the surprise, had, as usual, struck the first blow, without observing trifling formalities and declaring war. M. de Vendosme entered the Low Countries in July. Monterey and Tourneham fell to him immediately, and he would have taken Dunkirk but for fear of the interference of the English. De Rieulx, the Imperialist commander, was able only to act on the defensive; and the Flemish troops, who, as Sir John Wallop said, 'were nothing worth,' offered but a feeble opposition. The Piedmont army was reinforced to move upon Lombardy; French galleys were reported as having gone up to Constantinople to quicken the movements of Barbarossa; and


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 A CONVERSION. days after the posting by proxy, Hart worked off his condition in Greek.

This really meant more than it seemed; it left him free to think, and Franklin, who had been coaching him in grammar at odd moments, now insisted on his coming out and trying for the scrub eleven.

"I came here to work. I didn't come here to play games," Hart stated bluntly.

"Oh, yes you did," Franklin replied; "that's part of your course. Your brains belong to you,—but the college has an interest in that thumping old back of yours."

"Well, I don't see it that way," grumbled Hart. "I'm afraid I'd get fighting mad if they mauled me the way they did you yesterday. Just look at the side of your jaw."

"Let not your angry passions rise," hummed

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1542.] Francis prepared in person, with the flower of his troops, to cut his way into Spain. The Emperor 'was in great agony and trouble of mind, heing vexed in so many parts.' Secret communications had been for some months in progress, with a view to a treaty with England. But, besides the broad fact of the excommunication, a difficulty had occurred when the conditions came under discussion that the two sovereigns should declare themselves friends to friends and enemies to enemies. There were temporal enemies and there were spiritual enemies; and that the Pope, who was essentially both, might not escape inclusion, Henry had stipulated for the employment of the word 'spiritualis.' Notwithstanding the good-will on both sides, and the necessity on one, Charles was embarrassed with the dilemma, and shrank from it: but in the mean time the old treaties were still nominally in force, by which, in the event of invasion, England and the empire were mutually bound to assist each other. As Francis had invaded the Netherlands without notice, England might reasonably dispense with forms, as the French King had done, and send a few thousand men to the assistance of De Rieulx; or, if more feasible, might effect a diversion by seizing Mottreul. Both proposals were seriously


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72 Franklin, rubbing his face. "Look here, old man, you've got to come down to the 'Varsity grounds and put on a canvas jacket this noon—you've got to, you know."

"Oh, get out!" grunted Hart.

"But why not?" he kept thinking. Only two or three practice games had he seen and he had no idea that the whole college was waiting for his appearance. Nevertheless, as he had stood at the side lines, he had felt all the excitement of the strong man who watches the struggles of others; he had itched to try it.

"I believe I could play that game," he said, looking at Franklin from head to foot. "I'd just like a chance to put you on your back." He smiled grimly.

"Good! that's the proper spirit," Franklin laughed. "Shake a leg; it's time we were starting. You'll have to play opposite me. I'll make you hustle."

Green's football togs were a little bit tight and very stiff and muddy, but Hart managed to squeeze into them, and as he came out of the dressing-room he found a small crowd waiting to "size him up," as Tommy Wilson expressed it.

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512 considered. On the whole, however, it was thought better to proceed more regularly. Resentment was fast bringing Charles into a humour which would not halt at minor difficulties, especially as the Pope was declaring more and more obviously in favour of France; and a remarkable despatch of Bonner, the minister in residence at the Imperial Court, written on the 9th of September, describes the state of feeling into which the Emperor had worked himself; while the hope which the perusal of Bonner's letter excited in Henry, may be traced also in the side notes and pen marks which he left upon the paper.

{{left sidenote|'The Emperor,' wrote the Bishop, 'suffereth much and says little touching the Bishop of Rome, knowing how necessary he is for him, if he may have him, and also how expedient it is for him to keep him from joining with the French King. But of truth I think, an the Emperor once do break with the Bishop of Rome, which, if this war with France hold on, will shortly appear, he will be to him acerrimus hostis. Here of late came a post from Rome, passing by France, bringing letters to the Nuntio, wherein teas contained that the Bishop of Rome, to pacify this war beticeen the Emperor and the French King, had determined to send two cardinals, the one, Contarini, to the Emperor, the other, {{sidenotes end}}


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Rh There was a grin on the ex-deputy's face, but of course he was a little excited. The grin was occasioned by thinking of what Mabel would say if she could see him now. "Oh! how funny it all seemed!"

"Looks the part," one of the group of pipe-smoking young men observed, as the football men elbowed their way through.

His class gave him a reckless, uncadenced cheer, at which the sophomores smiled.

To make a long story short, Hart learned a great deal in the next forty-five minutes. His respect for Franklin wonderfully increased. He played off side and received a curt lecture beginning, "I say you," from the scrub captain, without answering back, and two or three times he made a tackle, rather high, of course, but successful. Strange to say, he found that there were so many things to think of that he did not have time to get mad clear through. A graduate player stood behind him coaching every minute, and a wild, fierce excitement came to him, and Franklin made him hustle most convincingly.

When it was all over, and he was walking back to college with Terence Golatly, Jimmie

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1542.] ''Sadoletto, to the French King. The said post is returned again by sea, and with letters from the Emperor to the Bishop of Rome, that he shall not trouble of himself with sending of any cardinal to him, for he is determined, seeing the French King hath begun, to make an end, and to proceed against him as extremely as he can.''' In a letter four days later to the Bishop of Westminster, Bonner related an interview with Granvelle, in which the difficulties in completing the alliance had been under debate. As Henry had required a rupture with the Pope, so it seemed that the Pope, on his side, had protested against a confederacy with a heretic. But the minister assured him that their patience was exhausted, and their hesitation was at an end. The Emperor felt towards England nothing but goodwill, and although it was 'not convenient' openly to break with the Pope, they 'had no great cause to love him or to trust him, and the English Government, ere it was long, would see what they would do against him.' They held his Holiness entirely responsible for the rupture, which he might have prevented had he desired; and Granvelle went so far as to say, that the Cortes were so much irritated as lately to have told the Papal Nuntio, 'that if the Pope would not better do his office, they would conjoin and combine themselves with his adversaries in Almayne; yea, cum Lutheranis, and have a council.' Granvelle was the most unscrupulous of liars, and the Emperor


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74 James, and Betts, Hart delivered himself of the following opinion:

"Boys," he said slowly, "that's a great game; jingo! Say, really! I'm glad I came to college."

"You've got to use your think-tank a bit," said Golatly.

The poor scrub players walked, but the 'Varsity men rode in a 'bus. As the clattering, rumbling vehicle went by, Hart made a mental statement that, although unexpressed, is worth recording, "I'll ride in that shebang soon," he said to himself.

As the freshmen walked down the path under the arched branches of the elm trees, a gray, bent old man, with a noble head and a kindly smile, stopped and spoke to them. He asked their class and names.

"Freshman or Sophomore, Junior or Senior," observed Golatly, as they walked on after the short interview, "we're all old Jimmie's kids."

It was irreverent in Terence to speak thus of the college president, but his words had an element of truth.

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514 had, perhaps, no objection to the employment of salutary falsehood. From himself, however, Bonner was less successful in extracting any such positive expression. 'I provoked him,' said the ambassador, 'to have uttered somewhat of his stomach against the Bishop of Rome, telling him that the French King never would have gone about this war if the Bishop of Rome had seriously forbidden him; and the said Bishop deserved small thanks of his Majesty for casting bones before princes, that he himself might reign.' Charles listened, but said nothing. 'He is very close,' the baffled Bishop added, 'and rather contented to do things than to utter them.'

So far, however, there was no doubt that he had resolved to displease the Pope by an alliance with Henry; and by this time, on all sides, his prospects were brightening. De Vendosme, in fear of Sir John Wallop, had made no further progress in Belgium. The Emperor, with infinite exertion, had reinforced his Italian army, and De Guasto not only had lost no ground, but had invaded Piedmont, and had come off with the honours of the campaign. The great enterprise conducted by Francis in person had failed scarcely less completely than the Spanish invasion of Provence in 1536. The intention was to enter Spain at the eastern extremity of the Pyrenees; but the Duke of Alva had thrown himself into Perpignan, which commanded the pass. The position could not be turned, and the nature


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1542.] of the country, and the form of Alva's lines, made a blockade impossible. Francis sat down before the place in July. He attempted to storm; but the veterans opposed to him, though inferior in numbers, were among the finest troops in Europe, and had the advantage of the ground. He tried a bombardment; but the Spanish artillery was heavier and better served than his own, and his siege guns were dismounted. The garrison was relieved, or reinforced at pleasure, from the rear; the communication could not be broken; and while his own camp was suffering from want of provisions, he had the mortification, day after day, of seeing the cattle grazing in the meadows below the walls, under the protection of Alva's batteries.

Two months were wasted over a project which was hopeless from the beginning; and at last, on the 24th of September, Francis retired, with the discredit of defeat.

On all sides but one the events of the summer had been unfavourable to the French. In Hungary the Turks had again triumphed; and Solyman's success might once more be counted as a doubtful victory for his allies. Ferdinand, with the aid of the German diet, had collected a hundred thousand men to retrieve the disasters of the past year. They had advanced from Vienna, full of hope and crusading enthusiasm. Pesth and Buda were to be retaken; they would drive the Crescent from the Danube, perhaps out of Europe. The expedition was accompanied by a party of English gentlemen—Sir Thomas Seymour among the number—either with commissions from the King, or led


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and all things come to an end, and you see at last Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Kipps descending upon the Hythe platform—coming to Hythe to find that nice little house—to realise that bright dream of a home they had first talked about in the grounds of the Crystal Palace. They are a valiant couple, you perceive, but small, and the world is a large incongruous system of complex and difficult things. Kipps wears a grey suit, with a wing-poke collar and a neat, smart tie. Mrs. Kipps is the same bright and healthy little girl woman you saw in the marsh; not an inch has been added to her stature In all my voluminous narrative. Only now she wears a hat.

It is a hat very unlike the hats she used to wear on her Sundays out, a flourishing hat with feathers and buckle and bows and things. The price of that hat would take many people's breath away—it cost two

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396 guineas! Kipps chose it. Kipps paid for it. They left the shop with flushed cheeks and smarting eyes, glad to be out of range of the condescending saleswoman.

"Artie," said Ann, "you didn't ought to 'ave"

That was all. And you know, the hat didn't suit Ann a bit. Her clothes did not suit her at all. The simple, cheap, clean brightness of her former style had given place not only to this hat, but to several other things in the same key. And out from among these things looked her pretty face, the face of a wise little child—an artless wonder struggling through a preposterous dignity.

They had bought that hat one day when they had gone to see the shops in Bond street. Kipps had looked at the passers-by and it had suddenly occurred to him that Ann was dowdy. He had noted the hat of a very proud-looking lady passing in an electric brougham and had resolved to get Ann the nearest thing to that.

The railway porters perceived some subtle incongruity in Ann, the knot of cabmen in the station doorway, the two golfers and the lady with daughters, who had also got out of the train. And Kipps, a little pale, blowing a little, not in complete possession of himself, knew that they noticed her and him. And Ann. It is hard to say just what Ann observed of these things.

"'Ere!" said Kipps to a cabman, and regretted too late a vanished "H."

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 A RETROSPECTION AND AN INTERRUPTION. was puzzling over a problem in geometry one evening when the door of his room was pushed open and, without knocking, Ned Bliss, one of his friends in the junior class, entered.

"I want to congratulate you, old man, on the great game you put up to-day. I say, you've got the 'Varsity sure if you keep on. Minton and Elliott were talking about it."

Hart shuffled his feet.

"Oh, I'm beginning to catch on, perhaps," he said, "but there is a lot to learn in everything; isn't there?"

"I suppose that's what we are here for," returned Bliss, "but upon my word, I can forget things quicker than any man I know. I hope all I've forgotten has done me some good.—You're going to the senior dance?"

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CH. I "I got a trunk up there," he said to a ticket inspector, "marked A. K."

"Ask a porter," said the inspector, turning his back.

"Demn!" said Kipps, not altogether inaudibly.

It is all very well to sit in the sunshine and talk of the house you will have, and another altogether to achieve it. We English—all the world indeed to-day—live in a strange atmosphere of neglected great issues, of insistent, triumphant petty things, we are given up to the fine littlenesses of intercourse; table manners and small correctitudes are the substance of our lives. You do not escape these things for long even by so catastrophic a proceeding as flying to London with a young lady of no wealth and inferior social position. The mists of noble emotion swirl and pass and there you are divorced from all your deities and grazing in the meadows under the Argus eyes of the social system, the innumerable mean judgments you feel raining upon you, upon your clothes and bearing, upon your pretensions and movements.

Our world to-day is a meanly conceived one—it is only an added meanness to conceal that fact. For one consequence, it has very few nice little houses, such things do not come for the asking, they are not to be bought with money during ignoble times. Its

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76 "Hadn't thought of it," Hart answered. "What is it?"

"Oh; just a dance," said Bliss, taking a seat on a window-sill and drumming with his fingers on the glass. "You had better come. Lots of pretty girls. Care much for dancing?"

"Not much," replied Hart. "I can stumble through a quadrille, if some one calls off the figures."

Bliss smiled.

"I've got my sister's card here," he went on; "you know we fill them out in advance. Would like to put you down for something. We don't have a senior function every year."

He shoved a little card on Hart's desk. The latter blushed.

"I don't know that I would be much of a success," he said, looking at the array of waltzes and two-steps mostly filled with the names of upper-class men.

"There's a lancers," said Bliss, pointing out one of the few remaining blanks with his finger. "Put your sig down there."

"You will have to explain," said Hart, as he did so, "that I aintain't [sic] much of a dancer."

"Well, if you don't want to, you can sit it

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398 houses are built on the ground of monstrously rich, shabbily extortionate landowners, by poor, parsimonious, greedy people in a mood of elbowing competition. What can you expect from such ridiculous conditions? To go househunting is to spy out the nakedness of this pretentious world, to see what our civilization amounts to when you take away curtains and flounces and carpets and all the fluster and distraction of people and fittings. It is to see mean plans meanly executed for mean ends, the conventions torn aside, the secrets stripped, the substance underlying all such Chester Cootery, soiled and worn and left.

So you see our poor, dear Kippses going to and fro, in Hythe, in Sandgate, in Ashford and Canterbury and Deal and Dover—at last even in Folkestone, with "orders to view," pink and green and white and yellow orders to view, and labelled keys in Kipps' hand and frowns and perplexity upon their faces.… They did not clearly know what they wanted, but whatever it was they saw, they knew they did not want that. Always they found a confusing multitude of houses they could not take, and none they could. Their dreams began to turn mainly on empty, abandoned-looking rooms, with unfaded patches of paper to mark the place of vanished pictures and doors that had lost their keys. They saw rooms floored with boards that yawned apart and were splintered, skirtings eloquent of the industrious mouse, kitchens with a dead black-beetle in the empty cupboard, and a hideous variety of coal holes and

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EXPOSURE-DRAFT 2010-2011-2012

The Parliament of the Commonwealth of Australia

HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES/THE SENATE

EXPOSURE DRAFT

Human Rights and Anti-Discrimination Bill 2012 No., 2012 (Attorney-General)

A Bill for an Act relating to human rights and discrimination, and for related purposes


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CH. I dark cupboards under the stairs. They stuck their little heads through roof trap-doors and gazed at disorganised ball taps, at the bleak filthiness of unstoppered roofs. There were occasions when it seemed to them that they must be the victims of an elaborate conspiracy of house agents, so bleak and cheerless Is a second-hand empty house in comparison with the humblest of inhabited dwellings.

Commonly the houses were too big. They had huge windows that demanded vast curtains in mitigation, countless bedrooms, acreage of stone steps to be cleaned, kitchens that made Ann protest. She had come so far towards a proper conception of Kipps' social position as to admit the prospect of one servant—"but lor'!" she would say, "you'd want a manservant in this 'ouse." When the houses were not too big, then they were almost invariably the product of speculative building, of that multitudinous hasty building for the extravagant multitude of new births that was the essential disaster of the nineteenth century. The new houses Ann refused as damp, and even the youngest of these that had been in use showed remarkable signs of a sickly constitution, the plaster flaked away, the floors gaped, the paper mouldered and peeled, the doors dropped, the bricks scaled and the railings rusted, Nature in the form of spiders, earwigs, cockroaches, mice, rats, fungi and remarkable smells, was already fighting her way back.

And the plan was invariably inconvenient,

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400. All the houses they saw had a common quality for which she could find no word, but for which the proper word is incivility. "They build these 'ouses," she said, "as though girls wasn't 'uman beings." Sid's social democracy had got into her blood perhaps, and anyhow they went about discovering the most remarkable inconsiderateness in the contemporary house. "There's kitching stairs to go up, Artie!" Ann would say. "Some poor girl's got to go up and down, up and down, and be tired out, jest because they haven't the sense to leave enough space to give their steps a proper rise—and no water upstairs anywhere—every drop got to be carried! It's 'ouses like this wear girls out.

"It's 'aving 'ouses built by men, I believe, makes all the work and trouble," said Ann.

The Kippses, you see, thought they were looking for a reasonably simple little contemporary house, but indeed they were looking either for dreamland or 1975 A.D. or thereabouts, and it hadn't come.

But it was a foolish thing of Kipps to begin building a house.

He did that out of an extraordinary animosity for house agents he had conceived.

Everybody hates house agents just as everybody loves sailors. It is no doubt a very wicked and unjust hatred, but the business of a novelist is not

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CH. I ethical principle but facts. Everybody hates house agents because they have everybody at a disadvantage. All other callings have a certain amount of give and take; the house agent simply takes. All other callings want you; your solicitor is afraid you may change him, your doctor cannot go too far, your novelist—if only you knew it—is mutely abject towards your unspoken wishes—and as for your tradespeople, milkmen will fight outside your front door for you, and green-grocers call in tears if you discard them suddenly; but who ever heard of a house agent struggling to serve anyone? You want to get a house; you go to him, you dishevelled and angry from travel, anxious, enquiring; he calm, clean, inactive, reticent, quietly doing nothing. You beg him to reduce rents, whitewash ceilings, produce other houses, combine the summer house of No. 6 with the conservatory of No. 4—much he cares! You want to dispose of a house; then he is just the same, serene, indifferent—on one occasion I remember he was picking his teeth all the time he answered me. Competition is a mockery among house agents, they are all alike, you cannot wound them by going to the opposite office, you cannot dismiss them, you can at most dismiss yourself. They are invulnerably placed behind mahogany and brass, too far usually even for a sudden swift lunge with an umbrella, and to throw away the keys they lend you instead of returning them is larceny and punishable as such.

It was a house agent in Dover who finally decided

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402 Kipps to build. Kipps, with a certain faltering in his voice, had delivered his ultimatum, no basement, not more than eight rooms, hot and cold water upstairs, coal cellar in the house but with intervening doors to keep dust from the scullery and so forth. He stood blowing. "You'll have to build a house," said the house agent, sighing wearily, "if you want all that." It was rather for the sake of effective answer than with any intention at the time that Kipps mumbled, "That's about what I shall do—this goes on."

Whereupon the house agent smiled. He smiled!

When Kipps came to turn the thing over in his mind he was surprised to find quite a considerable intention had germinated and was growing up in him. After all, lots of people have built houses. How could there be so many if they hadn't? Suppose he "reely" did! Then he would go to the house agent and say, "'Ere, while you been getting me a sootable 'ouse, blowed if I 'aven't built one!" Go round to all of them; all the house agents in Folkestone, in Dover, Ashford, Canterbury, Margate, Ramsgate, saying that! Perhaps then they might be sorry. It was in the small hours that he awoke to a realisation that he had made up his mind in the matter.

"Ann," he said, "Ann," and also used the sharp of his elbow.

Ann was at last awakened to the pitch of an indistinct enquiry what was the matter.

"I'm going to build a house, Ann."

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Rh out," said Bliss. "Anyhow, I am glad to hear you are coming."

When the junior had left, Hart leaned back and rattled his pencil against his teeth and fell into what Terence Golatly might have called a "trance."

It was a fine night. The windows of the college rooms were open. The tinkle of a banjo and a snatch of a song occasionally wafted out on the air. Young men stopped before the buildings and hulloed up at the buildings. There was a constant chorus of this from all over the campus.

"Hull-l-l-o o, Charlie Jackson!" would come a shout; then "stick—your—head—out—of—the—window," in one long word.

This generally resulted in a conversation (in which any one was entitled to join) between the occupants of a second- or third-story room and some one on the ground.

Hart listened to it all with a sense of unreality. A year ago the idea that he could adapt himself to such a life as this would have seemed impossible. His thoughts travelled back to Oakland. He could smell the ham and combined odors of Van Clees & Jackson's store.

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78 He knew exactly how the square would look. It seemed very long ago and very far away. He felt that he had bidden farewell to it for good and all, and he began in his mind to go yet even farther back to the time he had lived with his father in the little claim shanty on the North Fork of the Platte. He recalled the first book he had read, Wood's Natural History, filled with cuts of wonderful birds and beasts. He remembered how he used to spell out the chapters while he attended to the sheep. He could hear now in his imagination the plaintive first bleats of the new-born lambs. And then the day of the freshet, which carried off almost all of the litttlelittle [sic] herd and drowned out the corrals, came to him. Then the death of his father all alone in the sod-house, and the weary ride down to the town for help. The grave with the slab of shale for a head-stone, where they had laid the only relative he knew of in the world, to rest. The kindness that had been shown to him by a German family on the next half section was the next remembrance. Then came his apprenticeship to Mr. Van Clees; his attending public school; his growing to be a man, and the awakening of

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Rh and desires for other things. Oh! It all seemed very long ago and very far apart, and toward what was he tending now? Life struck him as a very peculiar game in which little things turned the course of existence into unsuspected channels—a very non-original thought, but he dwelt on it.

"Hullo, Pop Hart!" rang out beneath his window.

The interruption had come just as his thoughts had reached the time when Mabel had first come to occupy his mind. He thrust back the letter that he had half taken from his pocket, addressed to him in Miss Van Clees's round, shaded hand, and walked to the window.

"Hullo!" he answered, squeezing through the window.

"Come out on the campus," was the rejoinder. "Save the midnight oil, cool your fevered brow, and breathe of liberty."

It was Terence Golatly, Congeve, and Jimmy James. The light of Mr. Golatly's cigarette gleamed like a firefly below as he waved it in time to his oration.

Hart turned down the light and put on his shabby wide-awake and joined Terence and the

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CH. I "Eh?" said Ann, suddenly, as if awake.

"Build a house."

Ann said something incoherent about he'd better wait until the morning before he did anything of the sort, and immediately with a fine trustfulness went fast asleep again.

But Kipps lay awake for a long while building his house, and in the morning at breakfast he made his meaning clear. He had smarted under the indignities of house agents long enough, and this seemed to promise revenge—a fine revenge. "And, you know, we might reely make rather a nice little 'ouse out of it—like we want."

So resolved, it became possible for them to take a house for a year, with a basement, no service lift, blackleading to do everywhere, no water upstairs, no bathroom, vast sash windows to be cleaned from the sill, stone steps with a twist and open to the rain into the coal cellar, insufficient cupboards, unpaved path to the dustbin, no fireplace to the servant's bedroom, no end of splintery wood to scrub—in fact, a very typical English middle-class house. And having added to this house some furniture, and a languid young person with unauthentic golden hair named Gwendolen, who was engaged to a sergeant-major and had formerly been in an hotel, having "moved in" and spent some sleepless nights varied by nocturnal explorations in search of burglars, because of the strangeness of being in a house for which they were personally responsible, Kipps settled down for a

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80 others below on the grass plot. They strolled over in the direction of Old North. Several young men whom he did not recognize in the half-light called Hart by name as they passed him; he limped slightly, he had received a wrench in the practice game of the morning.

"How is your ankle, old man?" inquired some one as they passed a group lying at the foot of one of the great elm trees.

"All right, thanks," he answered. But a thrill of pleasure went through his veins, for the inquirer was Minton, the half-back. He remembered feeling the same sensation when Sheriff Holly had congratulated him on the way Bord McGovern had been brought into town.

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404 time and turned himself with considerable resolution to the project of building a home.

At first Kipps had gathered advice, finding an initial difficulty in how to begin. He went into a builder's shop at Seabrook one day, and told the lady in charge that he wanted a house built; he was breathless but quite determined, and he was prepared to give his order there and then, but she temporised with him and said her husband was out, and he left without giving his name. Also he went and talked to a man in a cart who was pointed out to him by a workman as the builder of a new house near Saltwood, but he found him first sceptical and then overpoweringly sarcastic. "I suppose you build a 'ouse every 'oliday," he said, and turned from Kipps with every symptom of contempt.

Afterwards Carshot told alarming stories about builders, and shook Kipps' expressed resolution a good deal, and then Pierce raised the question whether one ought to go in the first instance to a builder at all and not rather to an architect. Pierce knew a man at Ashford whose brother was an architect, and as it is always better in these matters to get someone you know, the Kippses decided, before Pierce had gone, and Carshot's warning had resumed their sway, to apply to him. They did so—rather dubiously.

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CH. I The architect who was brother of Pierce's friend appeared as a small, alert individual with a black, bag and a cylindrical silk hat, and he sat at the dining-room table, with his hat and his bag exactly equidistant right and left of him, and maintained a demeanour of impressive woodenness, while Kipps on the hearthrug, with a quaking sense of gigantic enterprise, vacillated answers to his enquiries. Ann held a watching brief for herself, in a position she had chosen as suitable to the occasion beside the corner of the carved oak sideboard. They felt, in a sense, at bay.

The architect began by asking for the site, and seemed a little discomposed to discover this had still to be found. "I thought of building just anywhere," said Kipps. "I 'aven't made up my mind about that yet." The architect remarked that he would have preferred to see the site in order to know where to put what he called his "ugly side," but it was quite possible of course to plan a house "in the air," on the level, "simply with back and front assumed"—if they would like to do that. Kipps flushed slightly, and secretly hoping it would make no great difference in the fees, said a little doubtfully that he thought that would be all right.

The architect then marked off as it were the first section of his subject, with a single dry cough, opened his bag, took out a spring tape measure, some hard biscuits, a metal flask, a new pair of dogskin gloves, a clockwork motor-car partially wrapped in paper, a

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 THE HERO OF A TEA-FIGHT. afternoon before the "senior function," Ned Bliss, Jed Elliott, the football captain, and Minton, the half-back, were walking across the campus. They were dressed in their very best clothes. Two girls were walking in the midst of the little party, which also included Hollingsworth and a small bearded senior with eye-glasses and a pale ascetic countenance.

Hollingsworth was the only man who wore a silk hat. This of course was the prerogative of the junior, but he alone laid claim to it on this particular afternoon.

One of the girls was walking ahead; she was very tall and graceful. She had rather a small head, well set above a pair of splendid shoulders, and she stepped like one who enjoyed life.

Her features were very regular, and her eyes,

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406 bunch of violets, a paper of small brass screws, and finally a large, distended notebook; he replaced the other objects carefully, opened his notebook, put a pencil to his lips and said: "And what accommodation will you require?" To which Ann, who had followed his every movement with the closest attention and a deepening dread, replied with the violent suddenness of one who has long lain in wait, "Cubbuds!"

"Anyhow," she added, catching her husband's eye.

The architect wrote it down.

"And how many rooms?" he said, coming to secondary matters.

The young people regarded one another. It was dreadfully like giving an order.

"How many bedrooms, for example?" asked the architect.

"One?" suggested Kipps, inclined now to minimise at any cost.

"There's Gwendolen," said Ann.

"Visitors perhaps," said the architect, and temperately, "You never know."

"Two, p'raps?" said Kipps. "We don't want no more than a little 'ouse, you know."

"But the merest shooting-box," said the architect.

They got to six; he beat them steadily from bedroom to bedroom, the word "nursery" played across their imaginative skies—he mentioned it as the remotest possibility—and then six being reluctantly conceded, Ann came forward to the table, sat down

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Rh had surprised the others. He hesitated a moment, plunged up the stairs, two steps at a time, and slammed the door of his room behind him.

Hart and Franklin stopped and joined one of the groups sitting under the elms on the front campus.

"Queer duck, that friend of yours," observed Franklin. "I wonder what he's going to make out of this place."

"I wonder what I'm going to make out of it," said Hart slowly; "that sort of puzzles me."

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CH. I and delivered herself of one of her prepared conditions: "'Ot and cold water," she said, "laid on to each room—any'ow."

It was an idea long since acquired from Sid.

"Yes," said Kipps, on the hearthrug, "'Ot and cold water laid on to each bedroom—we've settled on that."

It was the first intimation to the architect that he had to deal with a couple of exceptional originality, and as he had spent the previous afternoon in finding three large houses in The Builder, which he intended to combine into an original and copyright design of his own, he naturally struggled against these novel requirements. He enlarged on the extreme expensiveness of plumbing, on the extreme expensiveness of everything not already arranged for in his scheme, and only when Ann declared she'd as soon not have the house as not have her requirements, and Kipps, blenching the while, had said he didn't mind what a thing cost him so long as he got what he wanted, did he allow a kindred originality of his own to appear beneath the acquired professionalism of his methods. He dismissed their previous talk with his paragraphic cough. "Of course," he said, "if you don't mind being unconventional"

He explained that he had been thinking of a Queen Anne style of architecture (Ann directly she heard her name shook her head at Kipps in an aside) so far as the exterior went. For his own part, he said, he liked to have the exterior of a house in a style, not

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408 priggishly in a style, but mixed, with one style uppermost, and the gables and dormers and casements of the Queen Anne style, with a little rough cast and sham timbering here and there and perhaps a bit of an overhang diversified a house and made it interesting. The advantages of what he called a Queen Anne style was that it had such a variety of features.… Still, if they were prepared to be unconventional it could be done. A number of houses were now built in the unconventional style and were often very pretty. In the unconventional style one frequently had what perhaps he might call Internal Features, for example, an Old English oak staircase and gallery. White rough-cast and green paint were a good deal favoured in houses of this type.

He indicated that this excursus on style was finished by a momentary use of his cough, and reopened his notebook, which he had closed to wave about in a moment of descriptive enthusiasm while expatiating on the unbridled wealth of External Features associated with Queen Anne. "Six bedrooms," he said, moistening his pencil. "One with barred windows suitable for a nursery if required."

Kipps endorsed this huskily and reluctantly.

There followed a most interesting discussion upon house building, in which Kipps played a minor part. They passed from bedrooms to the kitchen and scullery, and there Ann displayed an intelligent exactingness that won the expressed admiration of the architect. They were particularly novel upon the

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CH. I position of the coal cellar, which Ann held to be altogether too low in the ordinary house, necessitating much heavy carrying. They dismissed as impracticable the idea of having coal cellar and kitchen at the top of the house, because that would involve carrying all the coal through the house, and therewith much subsequent cleaning, and for a time they dealt with a conception of a coal cellar on the ground floor with a light staircase running up outside to an exterior shoot. "It might be made a Feature," said the architect, a little doubtfully, jotting down a note of it. "It would be apt to get black, you know."

Thence they passed to the alternative of service lifts, and then by an inspiration of the architect to the possibilities of gas heating. Kipps did a complicated verbal fugue on the theme, "gas heating heats the air," with variable aspirates; he became very red and was lost to the discussion altogether for a time, though his lips kept silently on.

Subsequently the architect wrote to say that he found in his notebook very full and explicit directions for bow windows to all rooms, for bedrooms, for water supply, lift, height of stairs and absence of twists therein, for a well-ventilated kitchen twenty feet square, with two dressers and a large box-window seat, for scullery and outhouses and offices, but nothing whatever about drawing-room, dining-room, library or study, or approximate cost, and he awaited further instructions. He presumed there would be a breakfast-room, dining-room, drawing-room, and

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 study for Mr. Kipps, at least that was his conception, and the young couple discussed this matter long and ardently.

Ann was distinctly restrictive in this direction. "I don't see what you want a drawin'-room and a dinin' and a kitchen for. If we was going to let in summer—well and good. But we're not going to let. Consequently we don't want so many rooms. Then there's a 'all. What use is a 'all? It only makes work. And a study!"

Kipps had been humming and stroking his moustache since he had read the architect's letter. "I think I'd like a little bit of a study—not a big one, of course, but one with a desk and book-shelves, like there was in Hughenden. I'd like that."

It was only after they had talked to the architect again and seen how scandalised he was at the idea of not having a drawing-room that they consented to that Internal Feature. They consented to please him. "But we shan't never use it," said Ann.

Kipps had his way about a study. "When I get that study," said Kipps, "I shall do a bit of reading I've long wanted to do. I shall make a nabit of going in there and reading something an hour every day. There's Shakespeare and a lot of things a man like me ought to read. Besides, we got to 'ave somewhere to put the Encyclopædia. I've always thought a study was about what I've wanted all along. You can't 'elp reading if you got a study. If you 'aven't,

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CH. I there's nothing for it, so far's I can see, but treshy novels."

He looked down at Ann and was surprised to see a joyless thoughtfulness upon her face.

"Fency, Ann!" he said, not too buoyantly, "'aving a little 'ouse of our own!"

"It won't be a little 'ouse," said Ann, "not with all them rooms."

Any lingering doubt in that matter was dispelled when it came to plans.

The architect drew three sets of plans on a transparent bluish sort of paper that smelt abominably. He painted them very nicely; brick red and ginger, and arsenic green and a leaden sort of blue, and brought them over to show our young people. The first set were very simple, with practically no External Features—"a plain style," he said it was—but it looked a big sort of house nevertheless; the second had such extras as a conservatory, bow windows of various sorts, one rough-cast gable and one half-timbered ditto in plaster, and a sort of overhung verandah, and was much more imposing; and the third was quite fungoid with External Features, and honeycombed with Internal ones; it was, he said, "practically a mansion," and altogether a very noble fruit of the creative mind of man. It was, he admitted, perhaps almost too good for Hythe; his art had run away with him and produced a modern mansion in

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412 the "best Folkestone style"; it had a central hall with a staircase, a Moorish gallery, and Tudor stained glass window, crenelated battlements to the leading over the portico, an octagonal bulge with octagonal bay windows, surmounted by an oriental dome of metal, lines of yellow bricks to break up the red and many other richnesses and attractions. It was the sort of house, ornate and in its dignified way voluptuous, that a city magnate might build, but it seemed excessive to the Kippses. The first plan had seven bedrooms, the second eight, the third eleven; that had, the architect explained, "worked in" as if they were pebbles in a mountaineer's boat.

"They're big 'ouses," said Ann directly the elevations were unrolled.

Kipps listened to the architect with round eyes and an exuberant caution in his manner, anxious not to commit himself further than he had done to the enterprise, and the architect pointed out the Features and other objects of interest with the scalpel belonging to a pocket manicure set that he carried. Ann watched Kipps' face and communicated with him furtively over the architect's head. "Not so big," said Ann's lips.

"It's a bit big for what I meant," said Kipps, with a reassuring eye on Ann.

"You won't think it big when you see it up," said the architect; "you take my word for that."

"We don't want no more than six bedrooms," said Kipps.

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CH. I "Make this one a box-room, then," said the architect.

A feeling of impotence silenced Kipps for a time.

"Now which," said the architect, spreading them out, "is it to be?"

He flattened down the plans of the most ornate mansion to show it to better effect.

Kipps wanted to know how much each would cost "at the outside," which led to much alarmed signalling from Ann. But the architect could estimate only in the most general way.

They were not really committed to anything when the architect went away; Kipps had promised to think it over, that was all.

"We can't 'ave that 'ouse," said Ann.

"They're miles too big—all of them," agreed Kipps.

"You'd want. Four servants wouldn't be 'ardly enough," said Ann.

Kipps went to the hearthrug and spread himself. His tone was almost offhand. "Nex' time 'e comes," said Kipps, "I'll 'splain to him. It isn't at all the sort of thing we want. It's—it's a misunderstanding. You got no occasion to be anxious 'bout it, Ann."

"I don't see much good reely in building an 'ouse at all," said Ann.

"Oo, we got to build a 'ouse now we begun," said Kipps. "But, now, supposin' we 'ad."

He spread out the most modest of the three plans and scratched his cheek.

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414

It was unfortunate that old Kipps came over the next day.

Old Kipps always produced peculiar states of mind in his nephew, a rash assertiveness, a disposition towards display unlike his usual self. There had been great difficulty In reconciling both these old people to the Pornick mesalliance, and at times the controversy echoed in old Kipps' expressed thoughts. This perhaps it was, and no ignoble vanity, that set the note of florid successfulness going in Kipps' conversation whenever his uncle appeared. Mrs. Kipps was, as a matter of fact, not reconciled at all, she had declined all invitations to come over on the 'bus, and was a taciturn hostess on the one occasion when the young people called at the toy shop en route for Mrs. Pornick. She displayed a tendency to sniff that was clearly due to pride rather than catarrh, and except for telling Ann she hoped she would not feel too "stuck up" about her marriage, confined her conversation to her nephew or the infinite. The call was a brief one and made up chiefly of pauses, no refreshment was offered or asked for, and Ann departed with a singularly high colour. For some reason she would not call at the toy shop when they found themselves again in New Romney.

But old Kipps, having adventured over and tried the table of the new menage and found it to his taste,

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CH. I showed many signs of softening towards Ann. He came again and then again. He would come over by the 'bus, and except when his mouth was absolutely full, he would give his nephew one solid and continuous mass of advice of the most subtle and disturbing description, until it was time to toddle back to the High Street for the afternoon 'bus. He would walk with him to the sea front, and commence pourparlers with boatmen for the purchase of one of their boats. "You ought to keep a boat of your own," he said, though Kipps was a singularly poor sailor—or he would pursue a plan that was forming in his mind in which he should own and manage what he called "weekly" property in the less conspicuous streets of Hythe. The cream of that was to be a weekly collection of rents in person, the nearest approach to feudal splendour left in this democratised country. He gave no hint of the source of the capital he designed for this investment and at times it would appear he intended it as an occupation for his nephew rather than himself.

But there remained something in his manner towards Ann; in the glances of scrutiny he gave her unawares, that kept Kipps alertly expansive whenever he was about. And in all sorts of ways. It was on account of old Kipps, for example, that our Kipps plunged one day, a golden plunge, and brought home a box of cummerbundy ninepenny cigars, and substituted blue label old Methusaleh Four Stars for the common and generally satisfactory white brand.

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416 "Some of this is whiskey, my boy," said old Kipps when he tasted it, smacking critical lips.

"Saw a lot of young officer fellers coming along," said old Kipps. "You ought to join the volunteers, my boy, and get to know a few."

"I dessay I shall," said KIpps. "Later."

"They'd make you an officer, you know, 'n no time. They want officers," said old Kipps. "It isn't everyone can afford it. They'd be regular glad to 'ave you.… Ain't bort a dog yet?"

"Not yet, uncle. 'Ave a segar?"

"Not a moty car?"

"Not yet, uncle."

"There's no 'urry 'bout that. And don't get one of these 'ere trashy cheap ones when you do get it, my boy. Get one as'll last a lifetime.… I'm surprised you don't 'ire a bit more."

"Ann don't seem to fency a moty car," said Kipps.

"Ah!" said old Kipps, "I expect not," and glanced a comment at the door. "She ain't used to going out," he said. "More at 'ome indoors."

"Fact is," said Kipps, hastily, "we're thinking of building a 'ouse."

"I wouldn't do that, my boy," began old Kipps, but his nephew was routing in the cheffonier drawer amidst the plans. He got them in time to check some further comment on Ann. "Um," said the old gentleman, a little impressed by the extraordinary odour and the unusual transparency of the tracing

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CH. I paper Kipps put into his hands. "Thinking of building a 'ouse, are you?"

Kipps began with the most modest of the three projects.

Old Kipps read slowly through his silver-rimmed spectacles: "Plan of a 'ouse for Arthur Kipps Esquire—Um."

He didn't warm to the project all at once, and Ann drifted into the room to find him still scrutinising the architect's proposals a little doubtfully.

"We couldn't find a decent 'ouse anywhere," said Kipps, leaning against the table and assuming an offhand note. "I didn't see why we shouldn't run up one for ourselves." Old Kipps could not help liking the tone of that.

"We thought we might see" said Ann.

"It's a spekerlation, of course," said old Kipps, and held the plan at a distance of two feet or more from his glasses and frowned. "This isn't exactly the 'ouse I should expect you to 'ave thought of, though," he said. "Practically it's a villa. It's the sort of 'ouse a bank clerk might 'ave. 'Tisn't what I should call a gentleman's 'ouse, Artie."

"It's plain, of course," said Kipps, standing beside his uncle and looking down at this plan, which certainly did seem a little less magnificent now than it had at the first encounter.

"You mustn't 'ave it too plain," said old Kipps.

"If it's comfortable," Ann hazarded.

Old Kipps glanced at her over his spectacles.

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418 "You ain't comfortable, my gal, in this world, not if you don't live up to your position," so putting compactly into contemporary English that fine old phrase, noblesse oblige. "A 'ouse of this sort is what a retired tradesman might 'ave, or some little whippersnapper of a s'liciter. But you"

"Course that isn't the o'ny plan," said Kipps, and tried the middle one.

But it was the third one which won over old Kipps. "Now that's a  'ouse, my boy," he said at the sight of it.

Ann came and stood just behind her husband's shoulder while old Kipps expanded upon the desirability of the larger scheme. "You ought to 'ave a billiard-room," he said; "I don't see that, but all the rest's all right. A lot of these 'ere officers 'ere 'ud be glad of a game of billiards." …

"What's all these dots?" said old Kipps.

"S'rubbery," said Kipps. "Flow'ing s'rubs."

"There's eleven bedrooms in that 'ouse," said Ann. "It's a bit of a lot, ain't it, uncle?"

"You'll want 'em, my girl. As you get on, you'll be 'aving visitors. Friends of your 'usband, p'raps, from the School of Musketry, what you want 'im to get on with. You can't never tell."

"If we 'ave a great s'rubbery," Ann ventured, "we shall 'ave to keep a gardener."

"If you don't 'ave a s'rubbery," said old Kipps, with a note of patient reasoning, "'ow are you to prevent every jackanapes that goes by, starin' into your

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CH. I drorin'-room winder—p'raps when you get someone a bit special to entertain?"

"We ain't used to a s'rubbery," said Ann, mulishly; "we get on very well 'ere."

"It isn't what you're used to," said old Kipps, "it's what you ought to 'ave now." And with that Ann dropped out of the discussion.

"Study and lib'ry," old Kipps read. "That's right. I see a Tantalus the other day over Brookland, the very thing for a gentleman's study. I'll try and get over and bid for it."

By 'bus time old Kipps was quite enthusiastic about the house building, and it seemed to be definitely settled that the largest plan was the one decided upon. But Ann had said nothing further in the matter.

When Kipps returned from seeing his uncle into the 'bus—there always seemed a certain doubt whether that portly figure would go into the little red "Tip-Top" box—he found Ann still standing by the table, looking with an expression of comprehensive disapproval at the three plans.

"There don't seem much the matter with uncle," said Kipps, assuming the hearthrug, "spite of 'is 'eartburn. 'E 'opped up them steps like a bird."

Ann remained staring at the plans.

"You don't like them plans?" hazarded Kipps.

"No, I don't, Artie."

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420 "We got to build somethin' now."

"But—it's a gentleman's 'ouse, Artie!"

"It's—it's a decent size, o' course."

Kipps took a flirting look at the drawing and went to the window.

"Look at the cleanin'. Free servants'll be lost in that 'ouse, Artie."

"We must 'ave servants," said Kipps.

Ann looked despondently at her future residence.

"We got to keep up our position, any'ow," said Kipps, turning towards her. "It stands to reason, Ann, we got a position. Very well! I can't 'ave you scrubbin' floors. You got to 'ave a servant and you got to manage a 'ouse. You wouldn't 'ave me ashamed"

Ann opened her lips and did not speak.

"What?" asked Kipps.

"Nothing," said Ann, "only I did want it to be a little 'ouse, Artie. I wanted it to be a 'andy little 'ouse, jest for us."

Kipps' face was suddenly flushed and mulish. He took up the curiously smelling tracings again. "I'm not a-going to be looked down upon," he said. "It's not only Uncle I'm thinking of!"

Ann stared at him.

Kipps went on. "I won't 'ave that young Walshingham f'r instance, sneering and sniffling at me. Making out as if we was all wrong. I see 'im yesterday.… Nor Coote neether. I'm as good—we're as good. Whatever's 'appened."

title: Page:Kipps.djvu/432


text: Page:Human Rights and Anti-Discrimination Bill 2012 - Exposure Draft.pdf/196


text: Page:Human Rights and Anti-Discrimination Bill 2012 - Exposure Draft.pdf/197


text: Page:Human Rights and Anti-Discrimination Bill 2012 - Exposure Draft.pdf/198


text:
The Natural History of Pliny (Holland)/Book 1

Preface to Vespasian, his friend C. Plinius Secundus sendeth greeting.


text:
Page:Kipps.djvu/433

CH. I Silence and the rustle of plans.

He looked up and saw Ann's eyes bright with tears. For a moment the two stared at one another.

"We'll 'ave the big 'ouse," said Ann, with a gulp. "I didn't think of that, Artie."

Her aspect was fierce and resolute, and she struggled with emotion. "We'll 'ave the big 'ouse," she repeated. "They shan't say I dragged you down wiv' me—none of them shan't say that. I've thought—I've always been afraid of that."

Kipps looked again at the plan, and suddenly the grand house had become very grand indeed. He blew.

"No, Artie, none of them shan't say that," and with something blind in her motions Ann tried to turn the plan round to her.…

After all, Kipps thought there might be something to say for the milder project.… But he had gone so far that now he did not know how to say it.

And so the plans went out to the builders, and in a little while Kipps was committed to two thousand five hundred pounds worth of building. But then, you know, he had an income of twelve hundred a year.

It is extraordinary what minor difficulties cluster about house building.

"I say, Ann," remarked Kipps one day, "we shall 'ave to call this little 'ouse by a name. I was thinking

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422 of 'Ome Cottage. But I dunno whether 'Ome Cottage is quite the thing like. All these little fishermen's places are called Cottages."

"I like cottage," said Ann.

"It's got eleven bedrooms, d'see," said Kipps. "I don't see 'ow you can call it a cottage with more bedrooms than four. Prop'ly speaking, it's a Large Villa. Prop'ly, it's almost a Big 'Ouse. Leastways a 'Ouse."

"Well," said Ann, "if you must call it Villa—Home Villa.… I wish it wasn't."

Kipps meditated.

"'Ow about Eureka Villa?" he said, raising his voice.

"What's Eureka?"

"It's a name," he said. "There used to be Eureka Dress Fasteners. There's lots of names, come to think of it, to be got out of a shop. There's Pyjama Villa. I remember that in the hosiery. No, come to think, that wouldn't do. But Maraposa—sort of oatmeal cloth, that was.… No! Eureka's better."

Ann meditated. "It seems silly like to 'ave a name that don't mean much."

"Perhaps it does," said Kipps. "Though it's what people 'ave to do."

He became meditative. "I got it!" he cried.

"Not Oreeka!" said Ann.

"No! There used to be a 'ouse at Hastings opposite our school—quite a big 'ouse it was—St. Ann's. Now that"

title: Page:Kipps.djvu/434


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 CH. I "No," said Mrs. Kipps with decision. "Thanking you kindly, but I don't have no butcher boys making game of me." …

They consulted Carshot, who suggested after some days of reflection, Waddycombe, as a graceful reminder of Kipps' grandfather; Old Kipps, who was for "Upton Manor House," where he had once been second footman; Buggins,who favoured either a stern simple number, "Number One"—if there were no other houses there, or something patriotic, as "Empire Villa," and Pierce, who inclined to "Sandringham"; but in spite of all this help they were still undecided when, amidst violent perturbations of the soul, and after the most complex and difficult hagglings, wranglings, fears, muddles and goings to and fro, Kipps became the joyless owner of a freehold plot of three-eighths of an acre, and saw the turf being wheeled away from the site that should one day be his home.

title: Page:Kipps.djvu/435


text: Kipps/Book 3/Chapter 1

title: Kipps/Book 3/Chapter 1


text:
User talk:Josef Haller

Welcome
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Hello, Josef Haller, and welcome to Wikisource! Thank you for. I hope you like the place and decide to stay. Here are a few good links for newcomers:
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Again, welcome! Beeswaxcandle (talk) 06:41, 21 January 2013 (UTC)

title: User talk:Josef Haller


text:
User talk:Sunwin1960

Welcome
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Hello, Sunwin1960, and welcome to Wikisource! Thank you for. I hope you like the place and decide to stay. Here are a few good links for newcomers:
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title: User talk:Sunwin1960


text: Page:Human Rights and Anti-Discrimination Bill 2012 - Exposure Draft.pdf/16


text:
Author talk:John Frederick Smith

Note
Presumably American clergy as does not show in UK clerical records

title: Author talk:John Frederick Smith


text:
User talk:Mclay1

Beeswaxcandle (talk) 07:03, 21 January 2013 (UTC)

Licencing issue for Index:Human Rights and Anti-Discrimination Bill 2012 - Exposure Draft.pdf
Just to let you know that I don't think this work can't be hosted by us as the Australian government holds Crown copyright for 50 years on all works published by the Government. I have started a discussion at WS:COPYVIO at which you are welcome to join in. Beeswaxcandle (talk) 07:03, 21 January 2013 (UTC)

title: User talk:Mclay1


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Manwaring, Roger


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Manwood, John


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Manwood, Peter


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Manwood, Roger


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansel, John


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansel, William Lort


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansell, Francis


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansell, Robert


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansell, Thomas


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansfield, Charles Blachford


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansfield, James


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansfield, William Rose


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Manship, Henry


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Manson, David


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Mansel, Henry Longueville


text: Template:DNB AEJL

title: Template:DNB AEJL


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Manlove, Edward


text:
Page:The Holy Bible, containing the Old & New Testament & the Apocrypha.djvu/1148

Rh and withal how he had slain all the prophets with the sword. Then Jezebel sent a messenger unto Elijah, saying, So let the gods do to me, and more also, if I make not thy life as the life of one of them by to morrow about this time. And when he saw that, he arose, and went for his life, and came to Beer-sheba, which belongeth to Judah, and left his servant there.

But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper tree: and he requested for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers. And as he lay and slept under a juniper tree, behold, then an angel touched him, and said unto him, Arise and eat. And he looked, and, behold, there was a cake baken on the coals, and a cruse of water at his head. And he did eat and drink, and laid him down again. And the angel of the Lord came again the second time, and touched him, and said, Arise and eat; because the journey is too great for thee. And he arose, and did eat and drink, and went in the strength of that meat forty days and forty nights unto Horeb the mount of God.

And he came thither unto a cave, and lodged there; and, behold, the word of the Lord came to him, and he said unto him, What doest thou here, Elijah? And


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XIX] he said, I have been very jealous for the Lord God of hosts: for the children of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away. And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: and after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a voice unto him, and said. What doest thou here, Elijah? And he said, I have been very jealous for the Lord God of hosts: because the children of Israel have forsaken thy covenant, thrown down thine altars, and slain thy prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away. And the Lord said unto him, Go, return on thy way to the wilderness of Damascus: and when thou comest, anoint Hazael to be king over Syria: and Jehu the son of Nimshi shalt thou anoint to be king over Israel: and


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Martin, Henry


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 ‘Soldier's Widow’). 77. ‘Runaway Bride, or the New Marriage Act repealed,’ farce, 1823. 78. ‘Beautiful Insane, or the Rose of Morven,’ dramatic piece, 1824. 79. ‘Arrogance brought down,’ interlude, 1824. 80. ‘Music hath Charms, or Marrow Bones and Cleavers,’ comic interlude, 1824. 81. ‘Ups and Downs of Life, or the Fortunate Irishman,’ 1824. 82. ‘Affair of Honor, or the Dishonorable Affair,’ a dramatic burlesque (also under the title of ‘Follies of the Day, or a Tragi-comedy Duel’), 1825. 83. ‘Eccentricity, or Every one has his Whim,’ farce, 1826. Unless otherwise specified the above were all published in London.

II. .—‘A Minute Description of the Battles of Gorey, Arklow, and Vinegar Hill,’ 1798, 12mo, and ‘An Account of the Insurrection in Ireland,’ 1800.

III. .—1. ‘The Repository’ (songs and poems), 1811. 2. ‘Coll and Rotha,’ a poem (published with the ‘Swindlers’), 1812. 3. ‘Poetical Trifles,’ 1825.

 MACLAREN, CHARLES (1782–1866), editor of the 'Scotsman,' son of a small farmer and cattle-dealer, was born at Ormiston, Haddingtonshire, 7 Oct. 1782, and received some education at Fala and Colinton, but was mainly self-taught. Removing to Edinburgh, where he served as clerk and bookkeeper to several firms, he joined the Philomathic Debating Society, where he made the acquaintance of John Ritchie, William Ritchie, and other persons of advanced whig views. In conjunction with William Ritchie and (1790–1852) [q. v.], and in the face of much opposition, he established the 'Scotsman,' 26 Jan. 1817, and was joint editor of the first few numbers, but on his obtaining, in the same year, a position as a clerk in the custom house, he yielded the editorial chair to [q. v.] In 1820 Maclaren resumed the editorship and held it till 1846, when he resigned it to Alexander Russel. The paper rapidly became the leading political journal of Scotland; its tone was throughout decidedly whiggish, and in church matters it advocated much freedom of opinion. In 1820 Archibald Constable employed Maclaren to edit the sixth edition of the 'Encyclopædia Britannica,' 1823, and to revise the historical and geographical articles. The editor contributed the articles 'America,' 'Europe,' 'Greece,' 'Physical Geography,' and 'Troy,' Maclaren interested himself in science and especially in geology. He was elected F.R.S. Edinburgh in 1837, F.G.S. London in 1846, and was president of the Geological Society of Edinburgh from 1864 to his death. He published 'A Sketch of the Geology of Fife and the Lothians,' 1839; 2nd edit. 1866; and 'A Dissertation on the Topography of the Plain of Troy' in 1822, which, after visiting the district, he reissued in 1863 as 'The Plains of Troy described.' He died at Moreland Cottaffe? Edinburgh, 10 Sept. 1866, and was buried in the Grange cemetery. He married, 27 Jan. 1842, Jean Veitch, daughter of Richard Somner of Somnerfield, East Lothian, and widow of [q. v.], the nephew of the philosopher. A bust was executed by William Brodie.

A copy by John Hutchinson is in the National Portrait Gallery, Edinburgh.

 McLAREN, DUNCAN (1800–1886), politician, son of John McLaren, farmer, was born at Renton, Dumbartonshire, 12 Jan. 1800. At the age of twelve he was apprenticed for four years to a draper at Dunbar. From Dunbar he removed to Haddington, and thence in 1818 to Edinburgh, where the whole of his subsequent life was passed. Here he was employed under John Lauder & Co., in the High Street, until 1824, when he commenced business as a draper, in a shop opposite St. Giles's Church. In 1838 he became member .of the town council of Edinburgh, and he was successively baillie, treasurer, and finally provost from 1851 till 1864. When he was appointed treasurer the city was almost bankrupt, but he made satisfactory arrangements with the creditors, including the imperial treasury. In 1862 he unsuccessfully contested Edinburgh as a liberal, and in connection with the contest received from the 'Scotsman,' in an action for libel, the sum of 500l., which he gave away in charity. At the general election of 1865 he took his seat for Edinburgh, and continued to represent the city for sixteen years, acquiring in the House of Commons a position of so much authority on Scottish questions that he used to be called 'the member for Scotland.' He took part in passing the act for the commutation of the annuity tax, a local church rate peculiar to Edinburgh and Montrose. He also helped to pass the Burgess Act and the Irish Sunday Closing Act. On his retirement in 1881 he received a testimonial from his fellow-mem-


text: Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900/Maclaren, Archibald