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Rh Var. Zlatia, Späth, Golden Beech.—This was found wild in the mountains of Servia by Professor Dragaschevitch. It is known in Servia as Zladna bukwa (golden beech).

Var. striata, Bose. —This was discovered many years ago in a forest in Hesse. Soon after opening, the leaves show a regular golden striation parallel with the nerves, and this appearance lasts till the leaves fall off in autumn. It was introduced in 1892 by Dippel.

Various other coloured varieties have been obtained by horticulturists. In var. variegata the leaves are particoloured with white and yellow, interspersed with some streaks of red and purple. In var. tricolor the leaves are dark purplish green, spotted with bright pink and shaded with white. There are also gold-striped (var. aureo-variegata) and silver-striped (var. argenteo-variegata) varieties.

Var. heterophylla, Loudon, Fern-leaved Beech.—The leaves are variously cut, either in narrow shreds like some ferns, or in broader divisions like the leaves of a willow. This variety has received a great number of names, as laciniata, comptoniæfolia, incisa, salicifolia, asplenifolia, etc. The tree occasionally bears normal and cut leaves on the same twig, or normal and cut leaves on different twigs. It bears fruit occasionally, which, according to Bunbury, is smaller than that of the common beech, the cupule being shorter in proportion to the nuts. The leaf-buds are considerably smaller than those of the common form; and the twigs are often very pubescent. The origin of this variety is unknown.

There is a good specimen of this tree at Devonshurst House, Chiswick, which measured in 1903 55 feet in height, and 8 feet 2 inches in girth at 3 feet, just under a great horizontal branch.

At Barton, Bury St. Edmunds, a fern-leaved beech in 1904 was 53 feet high, with a girth of 5 feet 1 inch. This tree was planted in 1831, but grew slowly, in 1869 being only 15 feet high, with a trunk 3 feet round. In 1868 the tree bore some twigs with ordinary leaves; and it first fruited in 1869, the crop being a very small one.

There are large and well-shaped trees of this form at Strathfieldsaye measuring 50 feet by 7 feet 5 inches; at Fawley Court of the same size exactly, and weeping to the ground; and at Stowe near Buckingham.

Var. quercoides, Pers., Oak-leaved Beech.—The leaves in this variety are longstalked, with an acute base and acuminate apex; margins pinnately and deeply cut, the individual segments being acute.

Var. cristata, Lodd. (also known as var. crispa).—Small and nearly sessile leaves, crowded into dense tufts, which occur at intervals on the branches. This form rarely attains a large size.

Var. macrophylla (also known as latifolia).—The leaves in this form are very large. In a specimen at Kew, from the garden of the Horticultural School at Vilvorde, they attain 7 inches in length and 5 inches in width. A large specimen of this tree, some fifty years old, occurs at Enys in Cornwall. The buds, as might 1


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ivc. 43

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Rh A3

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vic. 43

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Rh A4

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viiic. 43

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title: Magistrates’ Courts Act 1980


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c. 431

1980 CHAPTER 43 An Act to consolidate certain enactments relating to the jurisdiction of, and the practice and procedure before, magistrates’ courts and the functions of justices' clerks, and to matters connected therewith, with amendments to give effect to recommendations of the Law Commission.

by the Queen's most Excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, as follows:—

Jurisdiction to issue process and deal with charges

1.—(1) Upon an information being laid before a justice of the peace for an area to which this section applies that any person has, or is suspected of having, committed an offence, the justice may, in any of the events mentioned in subsection (2) below, but subject to subsections (3) to (5) below,—
 * (a) issue a summons directed to that person requiring him to appear before a magistrates’ court for the area to answer to the information, or
 * (b) issue a warrant to arrest that person and bring him before a magistrates’ court for the area or such magistrates’ court as is provided in subsection (5) below.

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2c. 43

(2) A justice of the peace for an area to which this section applies may issue a summons or warrant under this section—
 * (a) if the offence was committed or is suspected to have been committed within the area, or
 * (b) if it appears to the justice necessary or expedient, with a view to the better administration of justice, that the person charged should be tried jointly with, or in the same place as, some other person who is charged with an offence, and who is in custody, or is being or is to be proceeded against, within the area, or
 * (c) if the person charged resides or is, or is believed to reside or be, within the area, or
 * (d) if under any enactment a magistrates’ court for the area has jurisdiction to try the offence, or
 * (e) if the offence was committed outside England and Wales and, where it is an offence exclusively punishable on summary conviction, if a magistrates’ court for the area would have jurisdiction to try the offence if the offender were before it.

(3) No warrant shall be issued under this section unless the information is in writing and substantiated on oath.

(4) No warrant shall be issued under this section for the arrest of any person who has attained the age of 17 unless—
 * (a) the offence to which the warrant relates is an indictable offence or is punishable with imprisonment, or
 * (b) the person’s address is not sufficiently established for a summons to be served on him.

(5) Where the offence charged is not an indictable offence—
 * (a) no summons shall be issued by virtue only of paragraph (c) of subsection (2) above, and
 * (b) any warrant issued by virtue only of that paragraph shall require the person charged to be brought before a magistrates’ court having jurisdiction to try the offence.

(6) Where the offence charged is an indictable offence, a warrant under this section may be issued at any time notwithstanding that a summons has previously been issued.

(7) A justice of the peace may issue a summons or warrant under this section upon an information being laid before him notwithstanding any enactment requiring the information to be laid before two or more justices.

(8) The areas to which this section applies are any county, any London commission area and the City of London.


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 * Hello. I'm aware of that; did I forget to put in someplace? The project I'm working on now is "The House Without Windows", which shows the public domain status. Or am misinterpreting what you said? I'm still inexperienced in this wiki. HendrikWBK (talk) 11:11, 4 April 2024 (UTC)
 * It has to be on the transclusion's front matter, as I placed it at The House Without Windows. People don't generally see the file (which has to have its separate license at Wikimedia Commons) when they want to read the book. The transclusion is for our readers to read the transcription, so the readers need to be clearly aware of why the file is out of copyright. SnowyCinema (talk) 12:47, 4 April 2024 (UTC)
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Rh

2.—(1) A magistrates’ court for a county, a London commission area or the City of London shall have jurisdiction to try all summary offences committed within the county, the London commission area or the City (as the case may be).

(2) Where a person charged with a summary offence appears or is brought before a magistrates’ court in answer to a summons issued under paragraph (b) of section 1(2) above, or under a warrant issued under that paragraph, the court shall have jurisdiction to try the offence.

(3) A magistrates’ court for a county, a London commission area or the City of London shall have jurisdiction as examining justices over any offence committed by a person who appears or is brought before the court, whether or not the offence was committed within the county, the London commission area or the City (as the case may be).

(4) Subject to sections 18 to 22 below and any other enactment (wherever contained) relating to the mode of trial of offences triable either way, a magistrates’ court shall have jurisdiction to try summarily an offence triable either way in any case in which under subsection (3) above it would have jurisdiction as examining justices.

(5) A magistrates’ court shall, in the exercise of its powers under section 24 below, have jurisdiction to try summarily an indictable offence in any case in which under subsection (3) above it would have jurisdiction as examining justices.

(6) A magistrates’ court for any area by which a person is tried for an offence shall have jurisdiction to try him for any summary offence for which he could be tried by a magistrates’ court for any other area.

(7) Nothing in this section shall affect any jurisdiction over offences conferred on a magistrates’ court by any enactment not contained in this Act.

3.—(1) Where an offence has been committed on the boundary between two or more areas to which this section applies, or within 500 yards of such a boundary, or in any harbour, river, arm of the sea or other water lying between two or more such areas, the offence may be treated for the purposes of the preceding provisions of this Act as having been committed in any of those areas.

(2) An offence begun in one area to which this section applies and completed in another may be treated for the purposes of the preceding provisions of this Act as having been wholly committed in either.


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4c. 43

(3) Where an offence has been committed on any person, or on or in respect of any property, in or on a vehicle or vessel engaged on any journey or voyage through two or more areas to which this section applies, the offence may be treated for the purposes of the preceding provisions of this Act as having been committed in any of those areas; and where the side or any part of a road or any water along which the vehicle or vessel passed in the course of the journey or voyage forms the boundary between two or more areas to which this section applies, the offence may be treated for the purposes of the preceding provisions of this Act as having been committed in any of those areas.

(4) The areas to which this section applies are any county, any London commission area and the City of London. Committal proceedings

4.—(1) The functions of examining justices may be discharged by a single justice.

(2) Examining justices shall sit in open court except where any enactment contains an express provision to the contrary and except where it appears to them as respects the whole or any part of committal proceedings that the ends of justice would not be served by their sitting in open court.

(3) Subject to subsection (4) below and section 102 below, evidence given before examining justices shall be given in the presence of the accused, and the defence shall be at liberty to put questions to any witness at the inquiry.

(4) Examining justices may allow evidence to be given before them in the absence of the accused if—
 * (a) they consider that by reason of his disorderly conduct before them it is not practicable for the evidence to be given in his presence, or
 * (b) he cannot be present for reasons of health but is represented by counsel or a solicitor and has consented to the evidence being given in his absence.

5.—(1) A magistrates’ court may, before beginning to inquire into an offence as examining justices, or at any time during the inquiry, adjourn the hearing, and if it does so shall remand the accused.

(2) The court shall when adjourning fix the time and place at which the hearing is to be resumed; and the time fixed shall be that at which the accused is required to appear or be brought before the court in pursuance of the remand.


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. Oh, he did tell you? I had supposed that he hadn't noticed it.

. [To ] I have quarrelled with your brother.

. Not in earnest?

. Yes, she is angry with me. She is taking your part.

. Mine?

. He told me that you were ill, and that he hadn't even gone in to ask how you were, because he was so anxious to see me. He seemed proud of it—imagine! He expected me to be pleased. I told him that he was a bad brother, and that I was coming to see you this very evening. Now I am going to make Julio ask you to forgive him right here before me.

. She says I don't love you.

. Of course I forgive you. Thanks very much.

. You don't know how fond I am of you. Ask Julio. I am always talking about you.

. She is, really.

. I know, Emilia. I am very fond of you, too.

. [To ] She is beautiful; anybody ought to be able to see it. Although if you don't think so, I take it I am to be congratulated.

. Regularity of features means nothing to me; the expression is everything. An expressive face never seems to be ugly. Absolutely not…!

. We are invited to the theatre this evening, but my daughter insisted upon stopping here first to inquire about Luisita. As you see, we do not stand upon etiquette. We drop in informally, although you do not take the same liberty with us.


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Rh in the neighbourhood of Nancy. Fruits of this form have been sown in the garden of the Forest School of Nancy, and have reproduced the twisted form in about the proportion of three-fifths; the other two-fifths of the fruit produced form like the common beech and intermediate varieties.

Many other varieties have been described; and other forms possibly occur wild which have not been noticed. Major M'Nair sent to Kew in 1872 from Brookwood, Knaphill, Surrey, a specimen from a tree growing there, and reported to be in vigorous health, in which the leaves are remarkably small and have only four pairs of lateral nerves.

The beech is indigenous to England. Remains of it have been found in neolithic deposits at Southampton docks, Crossness in Essex, in Fenland, in preglacial deposits in the Cromer forest bed, and at Happisburgh, Norfolk. Names of places of Saxon origin, in which the word beech occurs are very common, as Buckingham, Buxton, Boxstead, Boxford, Bickleigh, Boking, etc. The existence of the beech in Britain in ancient times has been questioned on account of the statement by Julius Cæsar that Fagus did not occur in England. H.J. Long has discussed what tree the Romans meant by Fagus, and the evidence is conflicting. Pliny described as Fagus a tree which is plainly the common beech. However, Virgil's statement that Castanea by grafting would produce fagos indicates rather that Fagus was a name used for the sweet chestnut; and this view is confirmed by the fact that out of the wood of Fagus the Romans made vine-props and wine-casks. The Latin word Fagus is derived immediately from the Greek Φηγός; and the Φηγός of Theophrastus is certainly the chestnut, probably the wild tree which is indigenous to the mountains of Greece. Caesar's statement probably implies that in his day the sweet chestnut did not occur in Britain.

The beech is not believed to be indigenous in Scotland and Ireland, and no evidence is forthcoming of its occurrence in prehistoric deposits in those countries. An able writer in Woods and Forests (1884, June 11, p. 404) contests this view, and speaks of the existence of two beech woods in the north of Scotland, not 10 miles from the most easterly point of Britain, where the trees were larger than any other timber tree, not excepting the Scotch fir, and where it produced fertile seed, while that of the oak was abortive. These woods were high and exposed, but the soil was good. In view of the way in which the beech ascends in the Vosges and the Jura to cold, bleak situations, finally becoming at 4000 feet a dwarf shrub, which


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Rh beech; the periods when these three forest trees predominated in succession tallying pretty nearly with the ages of stone, bronze, and iron in Denmark."

All over Germany, except in the sandy plains of the north, it is one of the principal forest trees; but, so far as we have seen, does not—or is rarely allowed to attain—such a great size as in England. In Central and Southern Germany and in Eastern and Southern France it seems to be indigenous only in hilly districts and mountains.

In the north of France it attains perfection, and forms very large forests, usually mixed with oak, which sometimes contain trees of immense height, but is not planted as an ornament to parks as much as in England.

According to Huffel's Economie Forestière, 362 (1904), the finest beech forest in France is that of Retz, also called Villers Cotterets, which contains 37,000 acres, on a soil composed of deep sand, mixed with a slight proportion of clay. The trees consist almost entirely of beeches, there being only a small number of oaks and hornbeams. In the best plot of this forest, the canton of Dayancourt, which is 30 acres in extent, there were, in 1895, 1998 beech trees, 20 oaks, and 16 hornbeams. The beeches contain 329,433 cubic feet of timber, and reach a height of nearly 150 feet with clean stems of 80 to 90 feet. Their age in 1895 was 183 years, and they were considered to have reached their maximum development and to be on the point of going back.

In an account of the beech, Mr. Robinson has stated in Flora and Sylva that in the forest of Lyons-la-Foret, near Rouen, beeches of 160 feet in height are found; but on asking my friend M. Leon Pardé, inspector of forests at Beauvais (Oise), near Paris, whether this statement could be confirmed, he was good enough to send me a letter from the forest ofiicer there, who says that the tallest beech known in France is the one which I saw in the Forêt de Retz, when the English Arboricultural Society visited France in 1903, the height of which was given as 45 metres, about 147 feet. This tree measured 13 feet 2 inches in girth, and was straight and clear of branches to 91 feet. It was estimated by the English measurement to contain 560 cubic feet to the first branch, or 700 feet in all. This letter goes on to say that the tallest trees at Lyons-le-Forêt do not, in his opinion, exceed a total height of 35 metres, though one has doubtfully been stated to attain 37½ metres.

Two of the finest and tallest beeches in France are the one called "La Bourdigalle" in the Forêt de Lyons at La Haye (Seine Inf.), which is 35.80 metres high by 5.55 metres at 1 metre, and is supposed to be from 375 to 575 years old.

Another called "Le Trois Hêtres," in the forest of Brotonne at Guerbaville (Seine Inf.), has three straight clean stems rising from a single base to a height of nearly 35 metres, with a girth at 1 metre of about 18 feet. This very remarkable tree is figured on plate xi. of the work cited below.

In Switzerland pure beech forest is found as high as 4500 feet, and at 5000 assumes a shrubby habit.

In the Austrian Alps and Carpathians it is also a common tree, forming vast forests, which are sometimes pure, sometimes mixed with other trees.


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102 presses very concisely the religious side of the question. Englishmen, up to this time, had never shown much inclination for theological disputation, nor were their ideas otherworldly. Under the Stuart, and perceptibly even under the Elizabethan, régime the atmosphere was entirely transformed, and became charged with a delirium Hebraicum of most explosive potency.

It was this sudden ferment, made more violent by its connection with the practical everyday reality of political grievances, which caused the great civil convulsions of this century, and which, after rejecting the toleration of ecclesiastical com-promise, achieved in spite of many vicissitudes the experimental separation of. Church and State under Cromwell, and finally the settlement of 1689.

Again, it is to be noticed that toleration was offered by the more sceptical minds to the zealots of the generation, who in turn were forced to adopt toleration by a compliance with political necessities which ultimately led them, in spite of their zeal, to the same conclusion. The Baptists and Quakers had long cried in the wilderness for toleration, but they abjured all connection with politics. The political process


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100 began to argue on religion and politics from a deductive point of view, and to treat them as real matters of principle. This habit of mind was, perhaps, inoculated in them by the Scottish deductiveness of James I. and Charles I., who excelled in the art of raising questions of principle at the very moments when they would have been best advised to imitate their Tudor predecessors in appealing to expediency.

The Elizabethan method of compelling all to unite in some form of ritual without disputing on matters of belief might have achieved all the unanimity which, as Bacon reminds us, it promoted among the heathen, and as Renan remarks, among the Jews. The more sceptical Englishmen of that hard-headed age were ready enough to acquiesce in it. There was a decided tendency towards a sceptical tolerance. Hooker, in his admission that all religions contained an element of truth, and that no religion, even that of the Druids or the Romans, could consist exclusively of untruths, as well as in the scope he gives to reason in religion, goes much further than Pecock in the last century had ventured to go; and besides, Hooker was unmolested. Bacon in his


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Rh beech-mast on the lawn at Heythrop Park which had already germinated and had the radicle protruding as much as ½ inch. I gathered a basketful and sowed it two days later, covering the drills with beech-leaf mould. Most of this was above ground in April, and where not protected by branches over the beds, was destroyed by frost. Stored seed sown at the same time was almost all devoured by mice and rooks, which seemed to follow the drills with great care, whilst seed sown broadcast on a freshly ploughed surface and covered by one turn of a harrow, produced a certain number, but still a very small proportion of plants. These were, in June 1904, still very small and stunted, not more than 3–5 inches high, whilst seedlings of the same age raised on good rich sandy soil in an Edinburgh nursery were from 1½ to 2 feet high.

In the autumn of 1902 I found it impossible to procure any beech-mast in Great Britain, and after many inquiries procured some German seed early in April. Part of this was dibbled in a field of wheat, but so few plants could be found when the wheat was cut that the experiment was a practical failure. I sowed a part of this seed early in May in the garden, which germinated in June, and thus escaping spring frosts it grew without a check, and the seedlings were 4 to 6 inches high in the autumn.

Judging from these results it appears to me that, except in woods or where there is shelter, it is not economically desirable to raise beech from seed where it is to grow, and that spring sowing is preferable to autumn.

Seedlings are easy to transplant if their roots are not allowed to become dry, and the percentage of loss in 20,000 sent to me from Edinburgh in the winter 1902–3 was not more than 5 to 10 per cent. But if the trees are older and the roots are bad or have been heated in transit, or exposed too long to the air, the loss will be very great; and in most cases I should not plant out on a large scale trees of over two years old two years transplanted, though for specimen or lawn trees they may be safely moved when 6 to 10 feet high, or even more, if properly transplanted every two years.

Though the beech will grow on almost any soil except pure peat and heavy wet clay, it comes to its greatest size and perfection on calcareous soil or on deep sandy loam, and usually in pure woods unmixed with other trees.

The finest beech woods in England are, or rather were, in the Chiltern Hills, Bucks, in the neighbouring counties of Oxford and Herts; in the valleys of the Cotswold Hills; and in Sussex.

Sir John Dorington, M.P., tells me that he cut 2 acres 1 rood 13 poles of beech on a steep bank opposite his house at Lypiatt Park, Stroud, in 1897, growing on thin oolite limestone brash, which at 1s. 2d. per foot produced £562, equal to about 9634 feet. And off 4 acres of the same wood in 1875 he sold beech to the value of £1100, being at the rate of £275 per acre. This was supposed to be about 150 years old, and is the best actual return of value from timber on such land which I know of. He also bought a beech wood of 26 acres growing on similar soil in 1898, on which the timber, supposed to be about seventy years old, was valued at £2200, equal to £85 per acre. He cut £6oo worth of thinnings out of it the year


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106 tactics and the lack of efficient troops. The Presbyterians always consistently opposed toleration, and their defeat by the Independent party alone made toleration possible. This appears clearly in the work of the Westminster Assembly of Divines, which, after sitting constantly since 1643, had established Presbyterianism in 1647.

In spite of many fine words on freedom of conscience, the Assembly gave the magistrate authority to preserve the peace and unity of the Church, and even to proceed against published opinions.

In the same year, however, the more sceptical school of Anglican thought revived with the publication of Jeremy Taylor's " Liberty of Prophesying." Taylor maintained that the Apostles' Creed is the only necessary test of faith, that reason itself, or reason as embodied in proper authority, is the ultimate court of appeal, and that God is the only arbiter between sects.

But he reserves persecution for blasphemers, for disturbers of public order, and for men who can be "dispensed" from civil obligations, like Papists. Taylor's attitude was rather different in the next reign. The book is interesting, because, for the time being, it does not regard error as a wilful crime, and entirely surrenders the Laudian theory of Church and State.

The Cromwellian toleration, marred as it was by


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Rh the furniture factories of High Wycombe are now largely supplied with American birch and other foreign timber, which can be imported at a cheaper rate than beech is locally worth, I am inclined to think that where these woods have become too thin to be profitable, they would pay better if the seeding of ash—which grows well on this land though not to the largest size—was encouraged, and the vacant spaces filled up with larch, which, when mixed with beech, usually keeps healthy and grows to a larger size than it does alone.

It is probable, however, that as our coal supplies diminish, the value of firewood in England will increase, and as beech is one of the best firewoods we have, and one of the most economical to convert into suitable sizes, I should advise its being more largely planted in districts where coal is distant and costly.

As a nurse to other forest trees, especially larch and oak, it has a value greater than any deciduous tree, because, if not allowed to overtop its neighbours, its shade and the decay of its leaves preserve the soil in a cool, moist, and fertile condition. On poor calcareous and chalk soil it is specially valuable, and should be planted in mixture with most kinds of other trees, provided rabbits can be permanently excluded; but on account of its thin bark it is never safe in a deep snow or in hard winters from rabbits, which will bark the roots of trees 100 years old as readily as young trees.

The distance apart at which beech should be left in plantations, must depend on the goodness of the soil and on the size at which the trees can be most profitably cut. The better the land the thicker it may stand, but on really poor soil it grows so slowly if crowded, that as soon as it has attained a sufficient height and cleaned itself from branches up to 30–50 feet, it should be thinned to about 150 trees or even less to the acre. And I have often observed that on soils which are not naturally favourable for beech, it will not under any circumstances grow so straight and clean as in woods where natural regeneration is easy.

Notwithstanding what Loudon and some German foresters say about the beech being unfit for coppice-wood, I can show beech stools of considerable age which have been regularly cut over at intervals of about eighteen years for at least a century; whilst the growth of shoots from the stool on the dry rocky bank in Chatcombe Wood, near Seven Springs, on the Cotswold Hills, is faster than that of ash similarly treated. In the mountains of Calabria also, I have seen hillsides covered with beech scrub which appeared to have been coppiced for firewood for a very long period. Therefore, in cases where the beech has been planted merely as a nurse to oak or other trees, and there is no deciduous tree better adapted to this purpose, I should not hesitate to cut over the trees if they seemed likely to smother their neighbours, with the expectation of getting a quantity of excellent firewood or small poles fit for turning, fifteen to twenty years later.

As a clipped hedge the beech is useful, but does not grow so fast at first as the hornbeam. An excellent example of this fact may be seen near the entrance to Dr. Watney's place at Buckholt, near Pangbourne, where the two are growing in the same hedge; the beech treated in this way keeps its leaves all the winter and makes good shelter. Rh


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Rh to be the only Christian heresy; Papists were, in any case, enemies of the State, and also enemies of God because of their idolatry.

Milton's early defence of toleration on such comprehensive grounds shows his real greatness of character and elevation of mind. For it was written when the civil war seemed to be turning out well for the king, and when the Independent party had not, to any extent, emerged. The Puritan party of rebellion against the existing order had risen almost in the cause of intolerance. The great stumbling block to the Puritans under James I. had been his endeavour to obtain toleration for Catholics, connected as it was with his Spanish diplomacy and the abandonment of his Protestant son-in-law in Germany. His very first Parliament in 1604, the year before the Gunpowder Plot, urged him to persecute Catholics. Laud's methods may have been largely inspired with the idea of upholding ecclesiastical authority as the bulwark of political despotism, but they were also retaliatory and keenly provoked by Puritan aggression. Nor would they have ceased to exist but for the Scottish Presbyterians, who began the war against Charles in 1638, and came in 1644 to the aid of the Parliamentarians, whose forces would otherwise in all probability have had to yield owing to the amateur nature of their


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Rh

As an instance of the rapid growth of the beech, I will quote from a letter of Robert Marsham of Stratton Strawless, near Norwich, to Gilbert White, dated 24th July 1790, in which he says: "I wish I had begun planting with beeches (my favourite trees as well as yours), and I might have seen large trees of my own raising. But I did not begin beeches till 1741, and then by seed; and my largest is now at 5 feet, 6' 3" round, and spreads a circle of + 20 yards diamr. But this has been digged round and washed, etc." In Gilbert White's reply to this letter, dated Selborne, 13th August 1790, he says: "I speak from long observation when I assert, that beechen groves to a warm aspect grow one-third faster than those that face to the N. and N.E., and the bark is much more clean and smooth."

Marsham, replying to White on 31st August (it seems to have been at least fifteen days' post in those days from Norfolk to Hants), says: "Mr. Drake has a charming grove of beech in Buckinghamshire, where the handsomest tree (as I am informed by a friend to be depended on) runs 75 feet clear, and then about 35 feet more in the head. I went on purpose to see it. It is only 6 F. 6 I. round, but straight as possible. Some beeches in my late worthy friend Mr. Naylor's park at Hurstmonceux in Sussex ran taller and much larger, but none so handsome." In a later letter he speaks of one being felled here in 1750 which "ran 81 feet before it headed."

Sir Hugh Beevor informs me that he found it impossible to identify with certainty the trees measured at Stratton Strawless by Marsham, which we shall have occasion to allude to later.

It would be impossible to mention more than a few of the finest beech trees in this country, but the photographs which have been reproduced represent a few of those which I have seen myself.

In Hants there are many fine beeches in the New Forest, of which the wood called Mark Ash contains some of the most picturesque, and is to my eyes one of the most beautiful woods from a naturalist's point of view in England, or even in Europe, though it is, like so many of the fine old woods in the New Forest, deteriorating from causes which are described elsewhere. One of the finest trees here is over 100 feet high and 24 feet in girth, dividing at about 10 feet into six immense erect limbs, and entirely surrounded, as are many of the trees in this wood, by a dense thicket of holly.

There is another beech in Woodfidley in the New Forest which Mr. Lascelles considers the finest beech in the forest, and of which the measurement as given by him is 120 feet high, 14 feet 6 inches in girth at 5 feet, carrying its girth well up, with an estimated cubic content of 650 feet.

In Old Burley enclosure is another magnificent beech, rather shut in by other trees, and therefore difficult to measure for height. I estimated it at 110 feet high. The girth was 18 feet, dividing at about 25 feet into two main trunks, which carried a


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Rh wanton instances of unnecessary persecution, was largely due to the political exigencies of the Protectorate; but it was also theoretically justified by the conception of the congregation as the ecclesiastical unit. Of course, it excluded enemies of the State like Episcopalians and Papists; but it was based on an entire separation of Church and State. The genuineness of the commonwealth in which Cromwell was Protector and Milton Secretary, is shown in the powerful intercession for the Vaudois, and in the restoration of citizenship (though not in the Aristotelian sense ) to the Jews.

Harrington's "Oceana," published in 1656, best expounds the ideas of this time on toleration. His most pregnant sentence runs:—" Where civil liberty is entire, it includes liberty of conscience," and this he wished to have protected by the magistrate. Yet the State is to profess a religion and employ Scriptural experts to construct it, since individuals have not sufficient leisure. There is to be a Council of Religion, as there are Councils of Trade and War, to which religious officers are to be elected by the people.

His anxiety to give the State much of that authority over public opinion which had belonged to the Church, springs from his anti-sacerdotalism. He quotes the excellent control of Holland and Venice over their clergy, and remarks: "My


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 their work to come in and, vowing that she was tired out and had not a moment to spare, sit down for a few minutes and gossip. When she was not in the presence of the Mother Superior she was a talkative, merry creature, fond of a joke, and she did not dislike a bit of scandal. Kitty stood in no fear of her, her habit did not prevent Sister St. Joseph from being a good-natured, homely woman, and she chattered with her gaily. She did not mind with her showing how badly she talked French and they laughed with one another over Kitty’s mistakes. The Sister taught her every day a few useful words of Chinese. She was a farmer’s daughter and at heart she was still a peasant.

“I used to keep the cows when I was little,” she said, “like St. Joan of Arc. But I was too wicked to have visions. It was fortunate, I think, for my father would certainly have whipped me if I had. He used often to whip me, the good old man, for I was a very naughty little girl. I am ashamed sometimes when I think now of the pranks I used to play.”

Kitty laughed at the thought that this corpulent, middle-aged nun could ever have been a wayward child. And yet there was something childlike in her still so that your heart went out to her: she seemed to have about her an aroma of the countryside in autumn when the apple trees are laden with fruit and the crops are in and safely housed. She had not the tragic and austere saintliness of the Mother Superior, but a gaiety that was simple and happy.


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For the last three centuries this summary may best be mainly confined to the growth of toleration in English history: in the first place because the modern separation of Church and State was first entirely achieved by an English-speaking common-wealth, and now prevails over a vast area of the modern world; secondly, because I have the authority of Dr Döllinger for thinking that the history of religious freedom is best worth studying in the records of the English-speaking race; and thirdly, because this problem, like many others, was solved far more equitably and far less violently in England than elsewhere.

The interest of England in the seventeenth century lies in the fact that Englishmen, for the first and perhaps the last time in their history,


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 “Do you never wish to go home again, ma sur?” asked Kitty.

“Oh, no. It would be too hard to come back. I love to be here and I am never so happy as when I am among the orphans. They’re so good, they’re so grateful. But it is all very well to be a nun (on a beau être religieuse) still one has a mother and one cannot forget that one drank the milk of her breasts. She is old, my mother, and it is hard never to see her again; but then she is fond of her daughter-in-law, and my brother is good to her. His son is growing up now, I should think they will be glad of an extra pair of strong arms on the farm; he was only a child when I left France, but he promised to have a fist that you could fell an ox with.”

It was almost impossible in that quiet room, listening to the nun, to realise that on the other side of these four walls cholera was raging. Sister St. Joseph had an unconcern which conveyed itself to Kitty.

She had a naïve curiosity about the world and its inhabitants. She asked Kitty all kinds of questions about London and England, a country, she thought, where so thick was the fog that you could not see your hand at midday, and she wanted to know if Kitty went to balls and whether she lived in a grand house and how many brothers and sisters she had. She spoke often of Walter. The Mother Superior said he was wonderful and every day they prayed for him. How lucky Kitty was to have a husband who was so good and so brave and so clever.


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 UT sooner or later Sister St. Joseph returned to the subject of the Mother Superior. Kitty had been conscious from the beginning that the personality of this woman dominated the convent. She was regarded by all that dwelt there with love certainly and with admiration, but also with awe and not a little dread. Notwithstanding her kindliness Kitty herself felt like a schoolgirl in her presence. She was never quite at her ease with her, for she was filled with a sentiment which was so strange that it embarrassed her: reverence. Sister St. Joseph with an ingenuous desire to impress, told Kitty how great the family was to which the Mother Superior belonged; she had among her ancestors persons of historic importance and she was un peu cousine with half the kings in Europe: Alphonso of Spain had hunted at her father’s, and they had châteaux all over France. It must have been hard to leave so much grandeur. Kitty listened smilingly, but not a little impressed.

“Du reste, you have only to look at her,” said the Sister, “to see that, comme famille, c’est le dessus du panier.”

“She has the most beautiful hands that I have ever seen,” said Kitty.

“Ah, but if you only knew how she had used them. She is not afraid of work, notre bonne mère.”

When they had come to this city there had been nothing. They had built the convent. The Mother


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. We almost never go out, as my daughter's health is so delicate. Julio will explain

. It is quite unnecessary. Of course, I appreciate that you are not pleased, but it is not any too pleasant for me, either. You do not have to convince me that our children have been foolish; in fact, it is downright madness. But what can their mothers do? However you may have discouraged your son, you may be sure it is nothing to what I have done to my daughter; I never miss an opportunity. It is no reflection upon us, nor any disparagement to our children, and I should not care to be understood as insinuating that either of them might have done better elsewhere. It is simply that, in my opinion, this affair is impossible.

. [To ] I am listening to our mothers blossoming out into mothers-in-law. We are tempting fate.

. Mamma is offended because your mother hasn't called since we moved. You saw how hard it was to make her come. I had to exaggerate dreadfully about poor Luisita.

. Perhaps we had better intervene. It begins to look serious.

. Yes, start a general conversation.

. Mother…

. What is it, dear?

. Where are Manolo and Paquita this evening?

. They were here, but they left. Word came the boys were crying.

. Great news!

. Yes, five children at their age! Isn't it a calamity? How can they expect any peace?

. You can't put that too strongly.

. Some people might profit by their example.


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Author talk:Greg Hill

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Shouldn't this be at Author:Gregory Hill ? Or even Author Gregory H. Hill ? (Does anyone know what the middle H. stood for ? -- Beardo (talk) 13:48, 23 January 2024 (UTC)

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 Superior had made the plans and supervised the work. The moment they arrived they began to save the poor little unwanted girls from the baby-tower and the cruel hands of the midwife. At first they had had no beds to sleep in and no glass to keep out the night air (“and there is nothing,” said Sister St Joseph, “which is more unwholesome”); and often they had no money left, not only to pay the builders, but even to buy their simple fare; they lived like peasants, what was she saying? the peasants in France, tenez, the men who worked for her father, would have thrown to the pigs the food they ate. And then the Mother Superior would collect her daughters round her and they would kneel and pray; and the Blessed Virgin would send money. A thousand francs would arrive by post next day, or a stranger, an Englishman (a Protestant, if you please) or even a Chinaman would knock at the door while they were actually on their knees and bring them a present. Once they were in such straits that they all made a vow to the Blessed Virgin that they would recite a neuvaine in her honour if she succoured them, and, would you believe it? that funny Mr. Waddington came to see us next day and saying that we looked as though we all wanted a good plate of roast beef gave us a hundred dollars.

What a comic little man he was, with his bald head and his little shrewd eyes (ses petits yeux malins) and his jokes. Mon Dieu, how he murdered the French language, and yet you could not help laughing at him. He was always in a good humour. All through this terrible epidemic he car-


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. Pebbles on our roof. Well, what progress, friend Galán? When is the happy day?

. Soon, very soon. The Minister has pledged his word.

. No, I mean when do you pledge your word? I was referring to the matrimonial prospect.

. Oh! You had me. Whenever an opening comes.

. There is no great hurry, as we have waited seven years.

. I admire your constancy.

. They have had time to think.

. And it deserves thought. I have thought myself.

. You are fortunate to be able to think. All we do is feel. Don't we, Emilia?

. [Aside] Be careful! We are in the enemy's country. The best thing will be to remove mamma. Otherwise this will inspire her, and we shall have a continuous session to-morrow, beginning when she gets up.

. Quite right. Don't you really want me to come to the theatre?

. No, not to-night. Stay home with your sister, as a punishment. Besides, if you come now, your mother will get the idea that I only brought you so as to let them see how you follow me everywhere, and I don't want to think that. Stay home this evening. Anyway, come up to the box.

. No, I am not popular with your aunt and cousins; they have their own candidate.

. No, they have heard only nice things about you; it would be awfully foolish to come. I am only going to please mamma. If I didn't, she would make a scene. "Your


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 ried himself as if he were enjoying a holiday. He had a heart quite French and a wit so that you would hardly believe he was English. Except for his accent. But sometimes Sister St. Joseph thought he spoke badly on purpose to make you laugh. Of course his morals were not all one could wish; but still that was his business (with a sigh, a shrug and a shake of the head) and he was a bachelor and a young man.

“What is wrong with his morals, ma sur?” asked Kitty smiling.

“Is it possible that you do not know? It is a sin for me to tell you. I have no business to say such things. He lives with a Chinese woman, that is to say, not a Chinese woman, but a Manchu. A princess, it appears, and she loves him to distraction.”

“That sounds quite impossible,” cried Kitty.

“No, no, I promise you, it is everything that is most true. It is very wicked of him. Those things are not done. Did you not hear, when you first came to the convent and he would not eat the madeleines that I had made expressly, that notre bonne mère said his stomach was deranged by Manchu cooking? That was what she meant and you should have seen the head that he made. It is a story altogether curious. It appears that he was stationed at Hankow during the revolution when they were massacring the Manchus and this good little Waddington saved the lives of one of their great families. They are related to the Imperial Family. The girl fell violently in love with him and—well, the rest you can imagine. And then when he left Hankow


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 The Haworth gig was not always to be had; and Mr. Brontë was often unwilling to fall into any arrangement for meeting at Bradford or other places, which would occasion trouble to others. They had all an ample share of that sensitive pride which led them to dread incurring obligations, and to fear "outstaying their welcome" when on any visit. I am not sure whether Mr. Brontë did not consider distrust of others as a part of that knowledge of human nature on which he piqued himself. His precepts to this effect, combined with Charlotte's lack of hope, made her always fearful of loving too much; of wearying the objects of her affection; and thus she was often trying to restrain her warm feelings, and was ever chary of that presence so invariably welcome to her true friends. According to this mode of acting, when she was invited for a month, she stayed but a fortnight amidst E.'s family, to whom every visit only endeared her the more, and by whom she was received with that kind of quiet gladness with which they would have greeted a sister.

She still kept up her childish interest in politics. In March, 1835, she writes: "What do you think of the course politics are taking? I make this inquiry, because I now think you take a wholesome interest in the matter; formerly you did not care greatly about it. B., you see, is triumphant. Wretch! I am a hearty hater, and if there is any one I thoroughly abhor, it is that man. But the Opposition is divided, Red-hots, and Luke-warms; and the Duke (par-excellence the Duke,) and Sir Robert Peel show no signs of insecurity,


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 she ran away and followed him and now she follows him everywhere, and he has had to resign himself to keep her, poor fellow, and I daresay he is very fond of her; they are quite charming sometimes, these Manchu women. But what am I thinking of? I have a thousand things to do and I sit here. I am a bad religious. I am ashamed of myself.”

ITTY had a queer feeling that she was growing. The constant occupation distracted her mind and the glimpses she had of other lives and other outlooks awakened her imagination. She began to regain her spirits; she felt better and stronger. It had seemed to her that she could do nothing now but weep; but to her surprise, and not a little to her confusion, she caught herself laughing at this and that. It began to seem quite natural to live in the midst of a terrible epidemic. She knew that people were dying to the right and left of her, but she ceased very much to think of it. The Mother Superior had forbidden her to go into the infirmaries and the closed doors excited her curiosity. She would have liked to peep in, but could not do so without being seen, and she did not know what punishment the Mother Superior would inflict upon her. It would be dreadful to be sent away. She was devoted to the children now and they would miss her if she went; in fact she did not know what they would do without her.


text: The Floral Fortune-teller/White Flowers

title: The Floral Fortune-teller/White Flowers


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 And one day it occurred to her that she had neither thought of Charles Townsend nor dreamt of him for a week. Her heart gave a sudden thud against her ribs: she was cured. She could think of him now with indifference. She loved him no longer. Oh, the relief and the sense of liberation! It was strange to look back and remember how passionately she had yearned for him; she thought she would die when he failed her; she thought life thenceforward had nothing to offer but misery. And now already she was laughing. A worthless creature. What a fool she had made of herself! And now, considering him calmly, she wondered what on earth she had seen in him. It was lucky that Waddington knew nothing, she could never have endured his malicious eyeing and his ironical innuendos. She was free, free at last, free! She could hardly prevent herself from laughing aloud.

The children were playing some romping game and it was her habit to look on with an indulgent smile, restraining them when they made too much noise and taking care that in their boisterousness none was hurt; but now in her high spirits, feeling as young as any of them, she joined in the game. The little girls received her with delight. They chased up and down the room, shouting at the top of their shrill voices, with fantastic and almost barbarous glee. They grew so excited that they leaped into the air with joy. The noise was terrific.

Suddenly the door opened and the Mother Superior stood on the threshold. Kitty, abashed, ex-


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 cousins will be offended. You will get yourself disliked by everybody."

. Yes, I know. I think you had better go.

. You won't mind, will you?

. No, I have confidence in you.

. You are perfectly wonderful.

. What time is it?

. Time to go, mamma—if you are ready.

. Good night, Carmen. Good night, Luisita.

. One of these days we hope to return your call. You must not hold it against us if we are a little remiss.

. Adelaida, I shall accept no excuses from you, either.

. Don't mention it, please! Whenever I look at you, it makes me blush.

. Good evening, everybody.

. It is time for us to retire. Are you ready, Cristóbal? Are you, Galán? You know you have to be up early, and you are not a man who can get along without sleep.

. I accommodate myself to your convenience.

. Ramona! [At the rear] Light the lights in the hall.—Good night, good night, everybody.

. Until to-morrow, then, at the usual hour?

. Not before?

. I was just going to ask.

. I shall sit down and write the very instant you leave the house. Our four pages!

. I shall write as soon as we get back from the theatre.

. I might wait, then, so we can be writing at the same time. We shall be thinking of each other at the same time!


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 tricated herself from the clutches of a dozen little girls who with wild shrieks had seized her.

“Is this how you keep these children good and quiet?” asked the Mother Superior, a smile on her lips.

“We were having a game, Mother. They got excited. It is my fault, I led them on.”

The Mother Superior came forward and as usual the children clustered about her. She put her hands round their narrow shoulders and playfully pulled their little yellow ears. She looked at Kitty with a long, soft look. Kitty was flushed and she was breathing quickly. Her liquid eyes were shining and her lovely hair, disarranged in all the struggling and the laughter, was in adorable confusion.

“Que vous êtes belle, ma chère enfant,” said the Mother Superior. “It does the heart good to look at you. No wonder these children adore you.”

Kitty blushed deeply and, she knew not why, tears suddenly filled her eyes. She covered her face with her hands.

“Oh, Mother, you make me ashamed.”

“Come, do not be silly. Beauty is also a gift of God, one of the most rare and precious, and we should be thankful if we are happy enough to possess it and thankful, if we are not, that others it for our pleasure.”

She smiled again and as though Kitty were a child too gently patted her soft cheek.


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 though they have been twice beat; so 'Courage, mon amie,' as the old chevaliers used to say, before they joined battle."

In the middle of the summer of 1835, a great family plan was mooted at the parsonage. The question was, to what trade or profession should Branwell be brought up? He was now nearly eighteen; it was time to decide. He was very clever, no doubt; perhaps, to begin with, the greatest genius in this rare family. The sisters hardly recognised their own, or each others' powers, but they knew his. The father, ignorant of many failings in moral conduct, did proud homage to the great gifts of his son; for Branwell's talents were readily and willingly brought out for the entertainment of others. Popular admiration was sweet to him. And this led to his presence being sought at "arvills" and all the great village gatherings, for the Yorkshire men have a keen relish for intellect; and it likewise procured him the undesirable distinction of having his company recommended by the landlord of the Black Bull to any chance traveller who might happen to feel solitary or dull over his liquor. "Do you want some one to help you with your bottle, sir? If you do, I'll send up for Patrick" (so the villagers called him till the day of his death). And while the messenger went, the landlord entertained his guest with accounts of the wonderful talents of the boy, whose precocious cleverness, and great conversational powers, were the pride of the village. The attacks of ill health to which Mr. Brontë had been subject of late years, rendered


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INCE she had been working at the convent Kitty had seen less of Waddington. Two or three times he had come down to the river bank to meet her and they had walked up the hill together. He came in to drink a whisky and soda, but he would seldom stay to dinner. One Sunday, however, he suggested that they should take their luncheon with them and go in chairs to a Buddhist monastery. It was situated ten miles from the city and had some reputation as a place of pilgrimage. The Mother Superior, insisting that Kitty must have a day’s rest, would not let her work on Sundays and Walter of course was as busy then as usual.

They started early in order to arrive before heat of the day and were carried along a narrow causeway between the rice fields. Now and then they passed comfortable farm-houses nestling with friendly intimacy in a grove of bamboos. Kitty enjoyed the idleness; it was pleasant after being cooped up in the city to see about her the wide country. They came to the monastery, straggling low buildings by the side of the river, agreeably shaded by trees, and were led by smiling monks through courtyards, empty with a solemn emptiness, and shown temples with grimacing gods. In the sanctuary sat the Buddha, remote and sad, wistful, abstracted and faintly smiling. There was about everything a sense of dejection; the magnificence was shoddy and ruined; the gods were dusty and the faith that had


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 it not only necessary that he should take his dinner alone (for the sake of avoiding temptations to unwholesome diet), but made it also desirable that he should pass the time directly succeeding his meals in perfect quiet. And this necessity, combined with due attention to his parochial duties, made him partially ignorant how his son employed himself out of lesson-time. His own youth had been spent among people of the same conventional rank as those into whose companionship Branwell was now thrown; but he had had a strong will, and an earnest and persevering ambition, and a resoluteness of purpose which his weaker son wanted.

It is singular how strong a yearning the whole family had towards the art of drawing. Mr. Brontë had been very solicitous to get them good instruction; the girls themselves loved everything connected with it—all descriptions or engravings of great pictures; and, in default of good ones, they would take and analyse any print or drawing which came in their way, and find out how much thought had gone to its composition, what ideas it was intended to suggest, and what it did suggest. In the same spirit, they laboured to design imaginations of their own; they lacked the power of execution, not of conception. At one time, Charlotte had the notion of making her living as an artist, and wearied her eyes in drawing with pre-Raphaelite minuteness, but not with pre-Raphaelite accuracy, for she drew from fancy rather than from nature.

But they all thought there could be no doubt about Branwell's talent for drawing. I have seen an oil


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 made them was dying. The monks seemed to stay on sufferance, as though they awaited a notice to quit; and in the smile of the abbot, with his beautiful politeness, was the irony of resignation. One of these days the monks would wander away from the shady, pleasant wood, and the buildings, crumbling and neglected, would be battered by fierce storms and besieged by the surrounding nature. Wild creepers would twine themselves about the dead images and trees would grow in the courtyards. Then the gods would dwell there no longer, but evil spirits of darkness.

HEY sat on the steps of a little building (four lacquered columns and a high, tiled roof under which stood a great bronze bell) and watched the river flow sluggish and with many a bend towards the stricken city. They could see its crenellated walls. The heat hung over it like a pall. But the river, though it flowed so slowly, had still a sense of movement and it gave one a melancholy feeling of the transitoriness of things. Everything passed, and what trace of its passage remained? It seemed to Kitty that they were all, the human race, like the drops of water in that river and they flowed on, each so close to the other and yet so far apart, a nameless flood, to the sea. When all things lasted so short a time and nothing mattered very much, it seemed pitiful that men, attaching an absurd impor-


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2 At the outset of an inquiry into the possibility of toleration, we are met with the time-worn discussion as to a causal connection of toleration with scepticism. Which is cause and which is effect? Or are we to regard the simultaneous manifestations of each as joint effects of a common cause?

The school of Buckle and Mill, and its later representative Mr Lecky, have somewhat obscured the controversy by assuming that the spirit of toleration implies an entirely conscious scepticism and indifference to religion. "Once take away the belief in exclusive salvation," they argue, "and toleration is assured. Advocates of toleration are ipso facto sceptical." This theory overstates the case at both ends, for it at once assumes an over-elaborate train of reasoning on the part of the persecutors, and it neglects the noblest argument for toleration. I will deal with these two points separately.

In the first place, then, let us try to understand the persecuting attitude. The mass of men, even in the so-called "ages of faith," are not inclined to exercise their minds about the problems of the universe, simply because they spend far the greater part of their energies in earning their daily bread. At certain crises in their lives, however, they need some kind of philosophy which will co-ordinate and rationalise their emotions and imagination.

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 painting of his, done I know not when, but probably about this time. It was a group of his sisters, life size, three-quarters' length; not much better than sign-painting, as to manipulation; but the likenesses were, I should think, admirable. I could only judge of the fidelity with which the other two were depicted, from the striking resemblance which Charlotte, upholding the great frame of canvas, and consequently standing right behind it, bore to her own representation, though it must have been ten years and more since the portraits were taken. The picture was divided, almost in the middle, by a great pillar. On the side of the column which was lighted by the sun, stood Charlotte, in the womanly dress of that day of jigot sleeves and large collars. On the deeply shadowed side, was Emily, with Anne's gentle face resting on her shoulder. Emily's countenance struck me as full of power; Charlotte's of solicitude; Anne's of tenderness. The two younger seemed hardly to have attained their full growth, though Emily was taller than Charlotte; they had cropped hair, and a more girlish dress. I remember looking on those two sad, earnest, shadowed faces, and wondering whether I could trace the mysterious expression which is said to foretell an early death. I had some fond superstitious hope that the column divided their fates from hers, who stood apart in the canvas, as in life she survived. I liked to see that the bright side of the pillar was towards her—that the light in the picture fell on her: I might more truly have


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4 For the priest, above all, toleration is necessarily a hard virtue. One ought not to lay great stress upon the old argument of the Hallam and Macaulay school as to the strength of vested interests, though it has a certain historical importance because the priest must subsist somehow. Vested interests are, after all, merely a secondary factor. But in the priest the emotional bias of the ordinary man has tenfold strength. By a natural process men who cling most to the instinct of veneration for the past and of enthusiastic obedience to present authority are drawn to the priesthood. They are often the most loveable and the most human of their kind; but their very strength of conviction and inaccessibility to plain reasoning in certain matters makes real tolerance for them extremely difficult. Indeed, they have often frankly admitted, especially in these days, that supernatural truths are bound up with the heart and not with the head.

The psychology of this attitude has been most felicitously sketched by Emerson, in his essay on Self-Reliance:—"Every new mind is a classification. . . . But in all unbalanced minds the classification is idolised, passes for the end and not for a

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 tance to trivial objects, should make themselves and one another so unhappy.

“Do you know Harrington Gardens?” she asked Waddington, with a smile in her beautiful eyes.

“No. Why?”

“Nothing; only it’s a long way from here. It’s where my people live.”

“Are you thinking of going home?”

“No.”

“I suppose you’ll be leaving here in a couple of months. The epidemic seems to be abating and the cool weather should see the end of it.”

“I almost think I shall be sorry to go.”

For a moment she thought of the future. She did not know what plans Walter had in mind. He told her nothing. He was cool, polite, silent and inscrutable. Two little drops in that river that flowed silently towards the unknown; two little drops that to themselves had so much individuality and to the onlooker were but an undistinguishable part of the water.

“Take care the nuns don’t start converting you,” said Waddington, with his malicious little smile,

“They’re much too busy. Nor do they care. They’re wonderful and so kind; and yet—I hardly know how to explain it—there is a wall between them and me. I don’t know what it is. It is as though they possessed a secret which made all the difference in their lives and which I was unworthy to share. It is not faith; it is something deeper and more—more significant: they walk in a different world from ours and we shall always be strangers


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" natural history of toleration is one of the most complex of all topics that engage either the reasoner or the ruler," writes Mr John Morley in his life of Oliver Cromwell. Contemporary thinkers, like Sir Leslie Stephen, Professor Ritchie and Sir Frederick Pollock, have appreciated the complexity of the problem—in so far as it involves manifold phases of human psychology and political science—but they have only touched on it occasionally and incidentally. Writers like Mr Lecky and Mr Andrew White have treated historically certain landmarks in the growth of free intellectual investigation, but have not dealt very adequately with the political side of the matter. A careful examination of the processes which have made toleration possible and practicable, may be of use in showing not only some still active tendencies of human thought and action, but also the permanency of some elements in human nature.

There are many points of view from which religious toleration may be regarded, and it is well, perhaps, to begin by considering the most important.

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 sought in her presentment—nay, in her living face—for the sign of death in her prime. They were good likenesses, however badly executed. From thence I should guess his family augured truly that, if Branwell had but the opportunity, and, alas! had but the moral qualities, he might turn out a great painter.

The best way of preparing him to become so appeared to be to send him as a pupil to the Royal Academy. I dare say, he longed and yearned to follow this path, principally because it would lead him to that mysterious London—that Babylon the great—which seems to have filled the imaginations and haunted the minds of all the younger members of this recluse family. To Branwell it was more than a vivid imagination, it was an impressed reality. By dint of studying maps, he was as well acquainted with it, even down to its by-ways, as if he had lived there. Poor misguided fellow! this craving to see and know London, and that stronger craving after fame, were never to be satisfied. He was to die at the end of a short and blighted life. But in this year of 1835, all his home kindred were thinking how they could best forward his views, and how help him up to the pinnacle where he desired to be. What their plans were, let Charlotte explain. These are not the first sisters who have laid their lives as a sacrifice before their brother's idolized wish. Would to God they might be the last who met with such a miserable return!


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 to them. Each day when the convent door closes behind me I feel that for them I have ceased to exist.”

“I can understand that it is something of a blow to your vanity,” he returned mockingly.

“My vanity.”

Kitty shrugged her shoulders. Then, smiling once more, she turned to him lazily.

“Why did you never tell me that you lived with a Manchu princess?”

“What have those gossiping old women been telling you? I am sure that it is a sin for nuns to discuss the private affairs of the Customs officials.”

“Why should you be so sensitive?”

Waddington glanced down, sideways, so that it gave him an air of slyness. He faintly shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s not a thing to advertise. I do not know that it would greatly add to my chances of promotion in the service.”

“Are you very fond of her?”

He looked up now and his ugly little face had the look of a naughty schoolboy’s.

“She’s abandoned everything for my sake, home, family, security and self-respect. It’s a good many years now since she threw everything to the winds to be with me. I’ve sent her away two or three times, but she’s always come back; I’ve run away from her myself, but she’s always followed me. And now I’ve given it up as a bad job; I think I’ve got to put up with her for the rest of my life.”

“She must really love you to distraction.”


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Rh will not endure a really free discussion of matters they think all-important.

So far I have dealt with the purely individual aspect of the problem. But it is further complicated by all those social and political obstacles to the growth of toleration with which the historian is primarily concerned. In the crises of men's lives, theology has its social as well as its individual activities. Hence the sanctions of law and government are clothed with theological vestments-being the outward and visible signs that are needed by most men to symbolize an inward and invisible grace. Man, the inveterate idealist and idolater, cannot dispense with external trappings.

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 "Haworth, July 6th, 1835.

"I had hoped to have had the extreme pleasure of seeing you at Haworth this summer, but human affairs are mutable, and human resolutions must bend to the course of events. We are all about to divide, break up, separate. Emily is going to school, Branwell is going to London, and I am going to be a governess. This last determination I formed myself, knowing that I should have to take the step sometime, 'and better sune as syne,' to use the Scotch proverb; and knowing well that papa would have enough to do with his limited income, should Branwell be placed at the Royal Academy, and Emily at Roe Head. Where am I going to reside? you will ask. Within four miles of you, at a place neither of us are unacquainted with, being no other than the identical Roe Head mentioned above. Yes! I am going to teach in the very school where I was myself taught. Miss Wooler made me the offer, and I preferred it to one or two proposals of private governess-ship, which I had before received. I am sad—very sad—at the thoughts of leaving home; but duty—necessity—these are stern mistresses, who will not be disobeyed. Did I not once say you ought to be thankful for your independence? I felt what I said at the time, and I repeat it now with double earnestness; if anything would cheer me, it is the idea of being so near you. Surely, you and Polly will come and see me; it would be wrong in me to doubt it; you were never unkind yet. Emily


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 and I leave home on the 27th of this month; the idea of being together consoles us both somewhat, and, truth, since I must enter a situation, 'My lines have fallen in pleasant places.' I both love and respect Miss Wooler."


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the 29th of July, 1835, Charlotte, now little more than nineteen years old, went as teacher to Miss Wooler's. Emily accompanied her, as a pupil; but she became literally ill from home-sickness, and could not settle to anything, and after passing only three months at Roe Head, returned to the parsonage and the beloved moors.

Miss Brontë gives the following reasons as those which prevented Emily's remaining at school, and caused the substitution of her younger sister in her place at Miss Wooler's:—

"My sister Emily loved the moors. Flowers brighter than the rose bloomed in the blackest of the heath for her;—out of a sullen hollow in a livid hill-side, her mind could make an Eden. She found in the bleak solitude many and dear delights; and not the least and best-loved was—liberty. Liberty was the breath of Emily's nostrils; without it she perished. The change from her own home to a school, and from her own very noiseless, very secluded, but unrestricted and unartificial mode of life, to one of disciplined routine (though under the kindest auspices), was what she failed in enduring.


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 “It’s a rather funny sensation, you know,” he answered, wrinkling a perplexed forehead. “I haven’t the smallest doubt that if I really left her, definitely, she would commit suicide. Not with any ill-feeling towards me, but quite naturally, because she was unwilling to live without me. It is a curious feeling it gives one to know that. It can’t help meaning something to you.”

“But it’s loving that’s the important thing, not being loved. One’s not even grateful to the people who love one; if one doesn’t love them, they only bore one.”

“I have no experience of the plural,” he replied. “Mine is only in the singular.”

“Is she really an Imperial Princess?”

“No, that is a romantic exaggeration of the nuns. She belongs to one of the great families of the Manchus, but they have, of course, been ruined by the revolution. She is all the same a very great lady.”

He said it in a tone of pride, so that a smile flickered in Kitty’s eyes.

“Are you going to stay here for the rest of your life then?”

“In China? Yes. What would she do elsewhere? When I retire I shall take a little Chinese house in Peking and spend the rest of my days there.”

“Have you any children?”

She looked at him curiously. It was strange that this little bald-headed man with his monkey face should have aroused in the alien woman so devastat-


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 Her nature proved here too strong for her fortitude. Every morning, when she woke, the vision of home and the moors rushed on her, and darkened and saddened the day that lay before her. Nobody knew what ailed her but me. I knew only too well. In this struggle her health was quickly broken: her white face, attenuated form, and failing strength, threatened rapid decline. I felt in my heart she would die, if she did not go home, and with this conviction obtained her recall. She had only been three months at school; and it was some years before the experiment of sending her from home was again ventured on."

This physical suffering on Emily's part when absent from Haworth, after recurring several times under similar circumstances, became at length so much an acknowledged fact, that whichever was obliged to leave home, the sisters decided that Emily must remain there, where alone she could enjoy anything like good health. She left it twice again in her life; once going as teacher to a school in Halifax for six months, and afterwards accompanying Charlotte to Brussels for ten. When at home, she took the principal part of the cooking upon herself, and did all the household ironing; and after Tabby grew old and infirm, it was Emily who made all the bread for the family; and any one passing by the kitchen-door, might have seen her studying German out of an open book, propped up before her, as she kneaded the dough; but no study, however interesting, interfered with the goodness of the bread, which was always light and excellent. Books were, indeed, a very common


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 Sun to the going down of the same, there is much salutation.”

The attack on Sidon was thus apparently the fact which opened the eyes of Amenophis. It appears to have preceded the final success, when the wealthy city of Gebal was taken by Aziru.

O. 42 B. M.—“This letter is the letter of the city Irkata to the King. O our Lord, thus (says) the city of Irkata, and her men, her (flock? or lords?). At the feet of the King our Lord seven times seven times they bow. To the King our Lord thus (saith) the city of Irkata. Knowing the heart of the King our Lord we have guarded the city of Irkata for him Behold the King our Lord orders Abbikha  he speaks to us thus, O King  to guard it. The city of Irkata answers the man ruling for the King. ‘It is well. Let us save the city of Irkata. It is well to save (a city?) faithful to the King.’ Behold many fight  the people  are frightened  Thirty horses and chariots enter the city of Irkata. Lo! has arrived a letter of the King as to arriving  thy land they reach. The men of the city (belonging) to the King have made to fight with us for the King our Lord. You send your chief to us that he may be our protector. Let the King our Lord hear the message of these his servants, and appoint us provision for his servant, and thou shalt exult over our foes and thou shalt prevail. The message of command of the King thou shalt not deny us. Our destroyer was troubled at the coming of the King’s order to us. Mightily he has fought against us, exceeding much.”

128 B.—“To Yankhamu by letter thus (says) Yapaaddu. Why is it spoken? Lo! from the city of Simyraa destruction by Aziru of all the lands, in length from the city of Gebal to the


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 ing a passion. She could not tell why the way he spoke of her, notwithstanding his casual manner and his flippant phrases, gave her the impression so strongly of the woman’s intense and unique devotion. It troubled her a little.

“It does seem a long way to Harrington Gardens,” she smiled.

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t understand anything. Life is so strange. I feel like some one who’s lived all his life by a duck-pond and suddenly is shown the sea. It makes me a little breathless, and yet it fills me with elation. I don’t want to die, I want to live. I’m beginning to feel a new courage. I feel like one of those old sailors who set sail for undiscovered seas and I think my soul hankers for the unknown.”

Waddington looked at her reflectively. Her abstracted gaze rested on the smoothness of the river. Two little drops that flowed silently, silently towards the dark, eternal sea.

“May I come and see the Manchu lady?” asked Kitty, suddenly raising her head.

“She can’t speak a word of English.”

“You’ve been very kind to me, you’ve done a great deal for me, perhaps I could show her by my manner that I had a friendly feeling towards her.”

Waddington gave a thin, mocking little smile, but he answered with good-humour.

“I will come and fetch you one day and she shall give you a cup of jasmine tea.”

She would not tell him that this story of an alien love had from the first moment strangely intrigued


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 sight in that kitchen; the girls were taught by their father theoretically, and by their aunt practically, that to take an active part in all household work was, in their position, woman's simple duty; but, in their careful employment of time, they found many an odd five minutes for reading while watching the cakes, and managed the union of two kinds of employment better than King Alfred.

Charlotte's life at Miss Wooler's was a very happy one, until her health failed. She sincerely loved and respected the former schoolmistress, to whom she was now become both companion and friend. The girls were hardly strangers to her, some of them being younger sisters of those who had been her own playmates. Though the duties of the day might be tedious and monotonous, there were always two or three happy hours to look forward to in the evening, when she and Miss Wooler sat together—sometimes late into the night—and had quiet pleasant conversations, or pauses of silence as agreeable, because each felt that as soon as a thought or remark occurred which they wished to express, there was an intelligent companion ready to sympathise, and yet they were not compelled to "make talk."

It was about this time that an event happened in the neighbourhood of Leeds, which excited a good deal of interest. A young lady, who held the situation of governess in a very respectable family, had been wooed and married by a gentleman, holding some subordinate position in the commercial firm to which the young


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 her fancy, and the Manchu Princess stood now as the symbol of something that vaguely, but insistently, beckoned to her. She pointed enigmatically to a mystic land of the spirit.

UT a day or two later Kitty made an unforeseen discovery.

She went to the convent as usual and set about her first work of seeing that the children were washed and dressed. Since the nuns held firmly that the night air was harmful, the atmosphere in the dormitory was close and fetid. After the freshness of the morning it always made Kitty a little uncomfortable and she hastened to open such windows as would. But to-day she felt on a sudden desperately sick and with her head swimming she stood at a window trying to compose herself. It had never been as bad as this before. Then nausea overwhelmed her and she vomited. She gave a cry so that the children were frightened, and the older girl who was helping her ran up and, seeing Kitty white and trembling, stopped short with an exclamation. Cholera! The thought flashed through Kitty’s mind and then a deathlike feeling came over her; she was seized with terror, she struggled for a moment against the night that seemed agonisingly to run through her veins; she felt horribly ill; and then darkness.

When she opened her eyes she did not at first


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 lady's employer belonged. A year after her marriage, during which time she had given birth to a child, it was discovered that he whom she called husband had another wife. Report now says, that this first wife was deranged, and that he had made this an excuse to himself for his subsequent marriage. But, at any rate, the condition of the wife who was no wife—of the innocent mother of the illegitimate child—excited the deepest commiseration; and the case was spoken of far and wide, and at Roe Head among other places.

Miss Wooler was always anxious to afford Miss Brontë every opportunity of recreation in her power; but the difficulty often was to persuade her to avail herself of the invitations which came, urging her to spend Saturday and Sunday with E. and Mary, in their respective homes, that lay within the distance of a walk. But Miss Brontë was too apt to consider, that allowing herself a holiday was a dereliction of duty, and to refuse herself the necessary change from something of an over-ascetic spirit, betokening a loss of healthy balance in either body or mind. Indeed, it is clear that such was the case, from an extract referring to this time, taken out of the letter I have before referred to, from "Mary."

"Three years after"—(the period when they were at school together)—"I heard that she had gone as teacher to Miss Wooler's. I went to see her, and asked how she could give so much for so little money, when she could live without it. She owned that, after clothing herself and Anne, there was nothing left, though she


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The TIN WOODMAN, OILING UP HIS JOINTS

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 city of Ugariti; and the destruction of this the city Sigata, and of the city Ambi. Behold the slave has (broken?) the ships  in the city Ambi and in the city Sigata, and in all which dispute for the lands with the city of Simyra: and shall we not arise to enter the city Simyra, or what shall we ourselves do? But send this news to your great city (or palace). It is regretted that the is unfortunate.”

44 B. M.—This letter seems to be an appeal by the cities of Phœnicia on behalf of Ribadda, the brave King of Gebal, during the time of his resistance to Aziru, which failed because no help was given to him from Egypt, where Aziru was still thought faithful. The spokesman Khaia is perhaps the same Egyptian mentioned in Aziru’s letters.

“Thus (saith) our confederacy to the King and the men of Sidon and the men of Beruta (Beirût). Whose are these cities—are not they the King’s? Place a chief one chief in the midst of the city, and shall not he judge the ships of the land of the Amorites? and to slay Abdasherah the King shall set him up against them. Does not the King mourn for three cities and the ships of the men of Misi? and you march not to the land of the Amorites, and Abdasherah has gone forth to war; and judge for thine own self, and hear the message of thy faithful servant. Moreover, who has fought as a son for the King—is it not Khaia? Will you gather us ships of men of Misi for the land of the Amorites and to slay Abdasherah? Lo! there is no message as to them and no memorial: they have shut the road—they have closed the way. In order to give passage to the land of Mitana he has left the fleet which he has built. Was not this a plot against me of the men of Arāda? But if be-


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 had hoped to be able to save something. She confessed it was not brilliant, but what could she do? I had nothing to answer. She seemed to have no interest or pleasure beyond the feeling of duty, and, when she could get, used to sit alone, 'and make out.' She told me afterwards, that one evening she had sat in the dressing-room until it was quite dark, and then observing it all at once, had taken sudden fright." No doubt she remembered this well when she described a similar terror getting hold upon Jane Eyre. She says in the story, "I sat looking at the white bed and overshadowed walls—occasionally turning a fascinated eye towards the gleaming mirror—I began to recall what I had heard of dead men troubled in their graves I endeavoured to be firm; shaking my hair from my eyes, I lifted my head and tried to look boldly through the dark room; at this moment, a ray from the moon penetrated some aperture in the blind. No! moonlight was still, and this stirred  prepared as my mind was for horror, shaken as my nerves were by agitation, I thought the swift-darting beam was a herald of some coming vision from another world. My heart beat thick, my head grew hot; a sound filled my ears which I deemed the rustling of wings; something seemed near me."

"From that time," Mary adds, "her imaginations became gloomy or frightful; she could not help it, nor help thinking. She could not forget the gloom, could not sleep at night, nor attend in the day."


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 know where she was. She seemed to be lying on the floor and, moving her head slightly, she thought that there was a pillow under it. She could not remember. The Mother Superior was kneeling by her side, holding smelling salts to her nose, and Sister St. Joseph stood looking at her. Then it came back. Cholera! She saw the consternation on the nuns’ faces. Sister St. Joseph looked huge and her outline was blurred. Once more terror overwhelmed her.

“Oh, Mother, Mother,” she sobbed. “Am I going to die? I don’t want to die.”

“Of course you’re not going to die,” said the Mother Superior.

She was quite composed and there was even amusement in her eyes.

“But it’s cholera. Where’s Walter? Has he been sent for? Oh, Mother, Mother.”

She burst into a flood of tears. The Mother Superior gave her hand and Kitty seized it as though it were a hold upon the life she feared to lose.

“Come, come, my dear child, you mustn’t be so silly. It’s not cholera or anything of the kind.”

“Where’s Walter?”

“Your husband is much too busy to be troubled. In five minutes you’ll be perfectly well.”

Kitty looked at her with staring, harassed eyes. Why did she take it so calmly? It was cruel.

“Keep perfectly quiet for a minute,” said the Mother Superior. “There is nothing to alarm yourself about.”

Kitty felt her heart beat madly. She had grown


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 so used to the thought of cholera that it had ceased to seem possible that she could catch it. Oh, the fool she had been! She knew she was going to die. She was frightened. The girls brought in a long rattan chair and placed it by the window.

“Come, let us lift you,” said the Mother Superior.

“You will be more comfortable on the chaise longue. Do you think you can stand?”

She put her hands under Kitty’s arms and Sister St. Joseph helped her to her feet. She sank exhausted into the chair.

“I had better shut the window,” said Sister St. Joseph. “The early morning air cannot be good for her.”

“No, no,” said Kitty. “Please leave it open.”

It gave her confidence to see the blue sky. She was shaken, but certainly she began to feel better. The two nuns looked at her for a moment in silence, and Sister St. Joseph said something to the Mother Superior which she could not understand. Then the Mother Superior sat on the side of the chair and took her hand.

“Listen, ma chère enfant ”

She asked her one or two questions. Kitty answered them without knowing what they meant. Her lips were trembling so that she could hardly frame the words.

“There is no doubt about it,” said Sister St. Joseph. “I am not one to be deceived in such a matter.”

She gave a little laugh in which Kitty seemed to discern a certain excitement and not a little affection.


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 The Mother Superior, still holding Kitty’s hand, smiled with soft tenderness.

“Sister St. Joseph has more experience of these things than I have, dear child, and she said at once what was the matter with you. She was evidently quite right.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kitty anxiously.

“It is quite evident. Did the possibility of such a thing never occur to you? You are with child, my dear.”

The start that Kitty gave shook her from head to foot, and she put her feet to the ground as though to spring up.

“Lie still, lie still,” said the Mother Superior.

Kitty felt herself blush furiously and she put her hands to her breasts.

“It’s impossible. It isn’t true.”

“Qu’est ce qu’elle dit?” asked Sister St. Joseph.

The Mother Superior translated. Sister St. Joseph’s broad simple face, with its red cheeks, was beaming.

“No mistake is possible. I give you my word of honour.”

“How long have you been married, my child?” asked the Mother Superior. “Why, when my sister-in-law had been married as long as you she had already two babies.”

Kitty sank back into the chair. There was death in her heart.

“I’m so ashamed,” she whispered.

“Because you are going to have a baby? Why, what can be more natural?”


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 Of course, the state of health thus described came on gradually, and is not to be taken as a picture of her condition in 1836. Yet even then there is a despondency in some of her expressions, that too sadly reminds one of some of Cowper's letters. And it is remarkable how deeply his poems impressed her. His words, his verses, came more frequently to her memory, I imagine, than those of any other poet.

"May 10th, 1836. "I was struck with the note you sent me with the umbrella; it showed a degree of interest in my concerns which I have no right to expect from any earthly creature. I won't play the hypocrite; I won't answer your kind, gentle, friendly questions in the way you wish me to. Don't deceive yourself by imagining I have a bit of real goodness about me. My darling, if I were like you, I should have my face Zion-ward, though prejudice and error might occasionally fling a mist over the glorious vision before me—but I am not like you. If you knew my thoughts, the dreams that absorb me, and the fiery imagination that at times eats me up, and makes me feel society, as it is, wretchedly insipid, you would pity and I dare say despise me. But I know the treasures of the Bible; I love and adore them. I can see the Well of Life in all its clearness and brightness; but when I stoop down to drink of the pure waters they fly from my lips as if I were Tantalus.

"You are far too kind and frequent in your


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 “Quelle joie pour le docteur,” said Sister St. Joseph.

“Yes, think what a happiness for your husband. He will be overwhelmed with joy. You have only to see him with babies, and the look on his face when he plays with them, to see how enchanted he will be to have one of his own.”

For a little while Kitty was silent. The two nuns looked at her with tender interest and the Mother Superior stroked her hand.

“It was silly of me not to have suspected it before,” said Kitty. “At all events I’m glad it’s not cholera. I feel very much better. I will get back to my work.”

“Not to-day, my dear child. You have had a shock, you had much better go home and rest yourself.”

“No, no, I would much rather stay and work.”

“I insist. What would our good doctor say if I let you be imprudent? Come to-morrow, if you like, or the day after, but to-day you must be quiet. I will send for a chair. Would you like me to let one of our young girls go with you?”

“Oh, no, I shall be all right alone.”

ITTY was lying on her bed and the shutters were closed. It was after luncheon and the servants slept. What she had learnt that morning