Part XX.

"Have I not in my time heard lions roar?

Have I not heard the sea, puft up with wind,

Rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat?

Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,

And Heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?

Have I not in the pitched battle heard

Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clang?"

Shakspeare.

As my mission was but temporary, and might be attended with personal

hazard, I had left Clotilde in England, much to her regret, and

travelled with as small a retinue as possible; and in general by

unfrequented ways, to avoid the French patroles which were already

spread through the neighbourhood of the high-roads. But, at Burgos,

the Spanish commandant, on the delivery of my passport, insisted so

strongly on the necessity for an escort, placing the wish on a feeling

of his personal responsibility, in case of my falling into the enemy's

hands, that to save the senor's conscience, or his commission, I

consented to take a few troopers, with one of his aides-de-camp, to

see me in safety through the Sierra Morena.

The aide-de-camp was a _character_; a little meagre being, who, after

a long life of idleness and half-pay, was suddenly called into

service; and now figured in a staff-coat and feather. His first

commission had been in the luckless expedition of Count O'Reilly

against the Moors; and it had probably served him as a topic, from

that time to the moment when he pledged his renown for my safe

delivery into the hands of the junta of Castile. He had three leading

ideas, which formed the elements of his body and soul,--his exploits

in the Moorish campaign; his contempt for the monks; and his value for

the talents, courage, and fame of Don Ignacio Trueno Relampago, the

illustrious appellative of the little aide-de-camp himself. He talked

without mercy as we rode along; and gave his opinions with all the

easy conviction of an "officer on the staff," and all the freedom of

the wilderness. The expedition to Africa had failed solely for want of

adopting "the tactics which _he_ would have advised;" and his public

services in securing the retreat would have done honour to the Cid, or

to Alexander the Great, had not "military jealousy refused to transmit

them to the national ear." His opinion of Spanish politics was, that

they owed their occasional mistakes solely to the culpable negligence

of the war-minister "in overlooking the gallant subalterns of the

national army." Spain he regarded as the natural sovereign of Europe;

and, of course, of all mankind--its falling occasionally into the

background being satisfactorily accounted for by the French descent of

her existing dynasty, by the visible deterioration in the royal

manufacture of cigars, and, more than either, "by the tardiness of

military promotion." This last grievance was the sting. "If justice

had been done," exclaimed the new-feathered warrior, rising in his

stirrups, and waving his hand, as if he was in the act of cleaving

down a Moor, "_I_ should long since have been a general. If I had been

a general, the armies of Spain would long since have been on a very

different footing. Men of merit would have been placed in their proper

positions; the troops would have emulated the exploits of their

forefathers in the age of Ferdinand and Isabella; and, instead of

receiving a king from France, we should have given her one; while,

instead of seeing a French emperor carrying off our princes, as the

hawk carries off pigeons, or as a gipsy picks your pocket under

pretence of telling your fortune, we should have been garrisoning

Paris with our battalions, and sending a viceroy to the Tuileries."

I laughed; but my ill-timed mirth had nearly cost me an "affair of

honour" with the little regenerator. His hand was instantly on the

hilt of his sword, and every wrinkle on his brown visage was swelling

with wrath; when my better genius prevailed, He probably recollected

that he was sent as my protector, and that the office would not have

been fulfilled according to his instructions, by running me through

the midriff. But, with all his pomposity, he had the national

good-nature; and when we sat down to our chicken and bottle of Tinto

in one of those delicious valleys, he was full of remorse for his

burst of patriotic temper.

The day had been a continued blaze of sunshine, the road a burning

sand, and the contrast of the spot where we made our halt was

tempting. The scene was rich and _riant_, the evening lovely, and the

wine good. I could have reposed there for a month, or a year, or for

ever. It would have been enough to make a man turn hermit; and I

instinctively gazed round, to look for the convent which "must lie" in

so luxurious a site. My companion informed me that I was perfectly

right in my conjecture, that spot having been the position of one of

the richest brotherhoods of Spain. But its opulence had been unluckily

displayed in rather too ostentatious a style in the eyes of a French

brigade; who, in consequence, packed up the plate in their baggage,

and, in the course of a tumult which followed with the peasantry,

burned the building to the ground.

Yet, this misfortune was the source of but slight condolence on the

part of my friend. He was perfectly of the new school. "They were

Theatines," said he--"as bad as the Jesuits in every thing but

hypocrisy--powerful, insolent, bold-faced knaves; and after their

robbing me of the inheritance of my old, rich uncle, which one of

those crafty _padres_ contrived to make the old devotee give them on

his death-bed, I had dry eyes for their ill luck. But, I suppose,"

added he, "you know their creed?" I acknowledged my ignorance. "Well,

you shall hear it. It is incomparably true; though, whether written

for them by Moratin or Calderon, I leave to the antiquarians." He then

chanted it in the style of the monkish service, and with

gesticulations, groans, and upturning of eyes, which strongly gave me

the idea that he had employed his leisure, if not relieved his sense

of the war-minister's neglect, by exerting his talents as the

"Gracioso" of some strolling company. The troopers gathered round us,

with that odd mixture of familiarity and respect which belongs to all

the lower ranks of Spain; and the performer evidently acquired new

spirits from the laughter of his audience, as he dashingly sang his

burlesque:--

Cancion.

Los mandamientos de los Teatinos,[6].

Mas humanos son que divinos.

_Coro_.--Tra lara, tra lara.

_Primo_--Adquirir mucho dinero. Tra lara, &c.

_Segundo_--Sujetar todo il mondo. Tra lara, &c.

_Tercero_--Buen capon, buen carnero. Tra lara, &c.

_Quarto_--Comprar barato, y vender caro. Tra lara, &c.

_Quinto_--Con el blanco aguar el tinto. Tra lara, &c.

_Sexto_--Tener siempre el lomo en siesto. Tra lara, &c.

_Septimo_--Guardase bien del sereno. Tra lara, &c.

_Octavo_--Obrar la suya, y lo ageno. Tra lara, &c.

_Nono_--Hazar del penitente esclavo. Tra lara, &c.

_Decimo_--Mesclarse en cosas d'estado. Tra lara, &c.

_Coro_.--Estes diez mandamientos se encierran en dos--

Todo para mi, y nada para vos.

Tra lara, tra lara, &c.

The whole performance was received with an applause which awoke the

little aide-de-camp's genius to such an extent, that he volunteered to

sing some stanzas of his own, immeasurably more poignant. He was in

the act of filling a bumper to the "downfall of all monkery on the

face of the earth," when the report of a musket was heard, and the

bottle was shivered in his hand. The honour of Don Ignacio Trueno

Relampago was never in greater danger, for he instantly turned much

whiter than his own pocket-handkerchief: but the Spaniard is a brave

fellow, after all; and seeing that I drew out my pistols, he drew his

sword, ordered his troopers to mount, and prepared for battle. But,

who can fight against fortune? Our horses, which had been picketed at

a few yards' distance in the depth of the shade, were gone. A French

battalion of tirailleurs, accidentally coming on our route, had

surrounded the grove, and carried off the horses unperceived, while

our gallant troopers were chorusing the songster. The sentinel left in

charge of them had, of course, given way to the allurements of "sweet

nature's kind restorer, balmy sleep," and awoke only to find himself

in French hands. Don Ignacio would have fought a legion of fiends; but

seven hundred and fifty sharpshooters were a much more unmanageable

affair; and on our holding a council of war, (which never fights,) and

with a whole circle of bayonets glittering at our breasts, I advised a

surrender without loss of time. The troopers were already disarmed,

and the Don, appealing to me as evidence that he had done all that

could be required by the most punctilious valour, surrendered his

sword with the grace of a hero of romance. The Frenchmen enjoyed the

entire scene prodigiously, laughed a great deal, drank our healths in

our own bottles, and finished by a general request that the Don would

indulge them with an encore of the chant which had so tickled their

ears during their advance in the wood. The Don complied, _malgre_,

_bongre_; and at the conclusion of this feat, the French colonel,

resolved not to be outdone in any thing, called on one of his

subalterns for a song. The subaltern hopelessly searched his memory

for its lyrical stores; but after half a dozen snatches of "chansons,"

and breaking down in them all, he volunteered, in despair, what he

pronounced, "the most popular love-song in all Italy." Probably not a

syllable of it was understood by any one present but myself; yet this

did not prevent its being applauded to the skies, and pronounced one

of the most brilliant specimens of Italian sensibility. It was in

_Latin_, and a fierce attack on the Jesuits, which the young officer,

a palpable _philosophe_, had brought with him from the _symposia_ of

the "Ecole Polytechnique:"--

Mortem norunt animare[7]

Et tumultus suscitare,

Inter reges, et sedare.

Tanquam sancti adorantur,

Tanquam reges dominantur,

Tanquam fures depraedantur.

Dominantur temporale,

Dominantur spirituale,

Dominantur omnia male.

Hos igitur Jesuitas,

Heluones, hypocritas,

Fuge, si caelestia quaeras.

Vita namque Christiana

Abhorret ab hac doctrina,

Tanquam ficta et insana.

The colonel of the tirailleurs was a complete specimen of the

revolutionary soldier. He was a dashing figure, with a bronzed face;

at least so much of it as I could discover through the most inordinate

pair of mustaches ever worn by a warrior. He was ignorant of every

thing on earth but his profession, and laughed at the waste of time in

poring over books; his travelling-library consisting of but two--the

imperial army-list, and the muster-roll of his regiment. His family

recollections went no higher than his father, a cobbler in Languedoc.

But he was a capital officer, and the very material for a

_chef-de-bataillon_--rough, brave, quick, and as hardy as iron. Half a

dozen scars gave evidence of his having shared the glories of France

on the Rhine, the Po, and the Danube; and a cross of the Legion of

Honour showed that his emperor was a different person from the object

of Don Ignacio's cureless wrath, the war-minister who "made a point of

neglecting all possible merit below that of a field-marshal."

The Frenchman, with all his, _brusquerie_, was civil enough to regret

my capture, "peculiarly as it laid him under the necessity of taking

me far from my route;" his regiment then making forced marches to

Andalusia, to join Dupont's division; and for the purpose of secrecy,

the strictest orders having been given that the prisoners which they

might make in the way should be carried along with them. As I had

forwarded my official papers from Galicia to Castile, and was regarded

simply as an English tourist, I had no sense of personal hazard; and

putting the best complexion which I could upon my misadventure, I rode

along with the column over hill and dale, enjoying the various aspects

of one of the most varied and picturesque countries in the world. Our

marches were rapid, but chiefly by night; thus evading at once the

intolerable heat of the Spanish day, and collisions with the people.

We bivouacked in the shelter of woods, or in the shade of hills,

during the sultry hours; and recommenced our march in the cool of the

eve, with short halts, until sunrise. Then we flung ourselves again

under the shelter of the trees, and enjoyed those delights of rest and

appetite, which are unknown to all but to the marchers and fasters for

twelve hours together.

But, on our crossing the Sierra Morena, and taking the direction of

Andalusia, the scene was wholly changed. The country was like one vast

field of battle. The peasants were every where in arms, villages were

seen burning along the horizon, and our constant vigilance was

necessary to guard against a surprise. Every soldier who lay down to

rest but a few yards from the column, or who attempted to forage in

the villages, was sure to be shot or stilettoed; provisions were

burned before our faces; and even where we were not actually fired on,

the frowns of the population showed sufficiently that the evil day was

at hand. At length we reached the range of hills which surround the

plain of Cordova; yet only just in time to see the army of Dupont

marching out from the city gates, in the direction of Andujar. As I

stood beside the colonel, I could observe, by the knitting of his

brow, that the movement did not satisfy his military sagacity. "What a

quantity of baggage!" he murmured: "how will it be possible to carry

such a train through the country, or how to fight, with such an

encumbrance embarrassing every step? Unless the Spanish generals are

the greatest fools on earth, or unless Dupont has a miracle worked for

him, he must either abandon three-fourths of his waggons, or be

ruined."

But I was now to have a nearer interest in the expedition. The

battalion had no sooner joined the army on its advance, than I was

ordered to appear before the chief of the staff. The language of this

officer was brief, but expressive.

"You are a spy."

"You are misinformed. I am a gentleman and an Englishman."

"Look here." He produced a copy of my letter to the junta of Castile,

which some clerk in the French pay had treacherously transmitted from

Madrid. "What answer have you to this?"

I flung the letter on the table.

"What right have you to require an answer? I have not come voluntarily

to the quarters of the French army; I am a prisoner; I am not even in

a military capacity. You would only act in conformity to the law of

nations by giving me my liberty this moment; and I demand that you

shall do your duty."

"I shall do it! If you have any arrangements to make, you had better

lose no time; for I wait only the general's signature to my report, to

have you shot." He turned on his heel. A sergeant with a couple of

grenadiers entered, and I was consigned for the night to the

provost-marshal. How anxiously I spent that night, I need not say. I

was in the hands of violent men, exasperated by the popular

resistance, and accustomed to disregard life. I braced myself up to

meet my untoward catastrophe, and determined at least not to disgrace

my country by helpless solicitation. I wrote a few letters, committed

myself to a protection above the passions and vices of man, wrapped my

cloak round me, and sank into a sound slumber.

I was aroused by a discharge of cannon, and found the camp in

commotion. The Spaniards, under Reding and Castanos, had, as the

colonel anticipated, fallen upon our line of march at daybreak, and

cut off a large portion of the baggage-train. It had been loaded with

the church-plate, and general plunder of Cordova; and the avarice of

the French had obviously involved them in formidable difficulty. But,

even in the universal tumult, the importance of my seizure was not

forgotten; and I was ordered to the rear in charge of a guard. The

action now began on all sides; the cannonade rapidly deepening on the

flank and centre of the French position, and the musketry already

beginning to rattle on various points of the line. From the height on

which I stood, the whole scene lay beneath my eye; and nothing could

have been better worth the speculation of any man--who was not under

sentence of being shot as soon as the struggle was over!

I was aware of the reputation of the French general. He held a high

name among the _braves_ of the imperial army for the last ten years,

and he had been foremost everywhere. In the desperate Italian

campaign against the Austrians and Russians; in the victorious

campaign of Austerlitz; in the sanguinary campaign of Eylau--Dupont

was one of the most daring of generals of brigade. But his pillage of

Cordova had roused the Spanish wrath into fury; and the effort to

carry off his plunder made it impossible for him to resist a vigorous

attack, even with his twenty thousand veterans. He had indulged

himself in Cordova, until the broken armies of the south had found

time to rally; and a force of fifty thousand men was now rushing down

upon his centre. The hills, as far as the eye could range, were

covered with the armed peasantry, moving like dark clouds over their

sides, and descending by thousands to the field. The battle now raged

furiously in the centre, and the charges of the French cavalry made

fearful gaps in the Spanish battalions. At length, the rising of the

dust on the right showed that a strong column was approaching, which

might decide the day. My heart beat slow as I saw the tricolor

floating above its bayonets. It was the advanced guard, with Dupont at

its head--a force of three thousand men, which had returned rapidly on

its steps, as soon as the sound of the attack had reached it. It was

boldly resisted by the Swiss and Walloon brigades of the Spanish line:

but the French fire was heavy, its manoeuvre was daring, and I began

to fear for the fate of the day; when a loud explosion, and a hurried

movement at the extreme of the French position, turned my eyes to the

left wing. There the Spanish attack had swept every thing before it.

Brigade after brigade was giving way, and the country was covered with

scattered horsemen, infantry retiring in disorder, and broken and

captured guns. The peasantry, too, had joined in the pursuit, and the

wing seemed utterly ruined. To retrieve this disorder was now

hopeless, for the French general had extended his line to the

extraordinary length of ten miles. His baggage-train was his ruin. The

whole Spanish line now advanced, shouting, and only halting at

intervals to cannonade the enemy. The French returned a feeble fire,

and began to retreat. But retreat was now impossible, and they must

fight, or be massacred. At this moment I saw an officer, from the spot

where Dupont sat on his charger surrounded by his staff, gallop

between the two armies. He was met by a Spanish officer. The firing

ceased. Dupont had surrendered, with all the troops in Andalusia!

I was now at liberty, and I was received by the Spanish

commander-in-chief with the honours due to my mission and my country.

After mutual congratulations on this most brilliant day, I expressed

my wish to set off for Madrid without delay. An escort of cavalry was

ordered for me, and by midnight I had left behind me the slaughter and

the triumph, the noblest of Spanish fields, the immortal Baylen!

The night was singularly dark; and as the by-roads of the Peninsula

are confessedly among the most original specimens of the road-making

art, our attention was chiefly occupied, for the first hour, in

finding our way in Indian file. At length, on the country's opening, I

rode forward to the head of the troops, and addressed some questions,

on our distance from the next town, to the officer. He at once

pronounced my name, and my astonishment was not less than his own. In

the commandant of the escort I found my gallant, though most wayward,

young friend, Mariamne's lover, Lafontaine! His story was brief. In

despair of removing her father's reluctance to their marriage, and

wholly unable to bring over Mariamne to his own opinion, that she

would act the wiser part in taking the chances of the world along with

himself, he had resolved to enter the Russian or the Turkish service,

or any other in which he had the speediest probability of ending his

career by a bullet or a sabre-blow. The accidental rencontre of one of

his relations, an officer high in the Spanish service, had led him

into the Peninsula; where, as a Royalist, he was warmly received by a

people devoted to their kings; and had just received a commission in

the cavalry of the guard, when the French war broke out. He felt no

scruples in acting as a soldier of Spain; for, with the death of

Louis, he had regarded all ties as broken, and he was now a citizen of

the world. I ventured to mention the name of Mariamne; and I found

that, there at least, the inconstancy charged on his nation had no

place. He spoke of her with eloquent tenderness, and it was evident

that, with all his despair of ever seeing her again, she still held

the first place in his heart. In this wandering, yet by no means

painful, interchange of thoughts, we moved on for some hours; when one

of the advanced troopers rode back, to tell us that he had heard shots

in the distance, and other sounds of struggle. We galloped forward,

and from the brow of the next hill saw flames rising from a village in

the valley beneath, and a skirmish going on between some marauding

troops and the peasantry. Lafontaine instantly ordered an advance; and

our whole troop were soon in the centre of the village, busily

employed with the pistol and sabre. The French, taken by surprise,

made but a slight resistance, and, after a few random shots, ran to a

neighbouring wood. But as I was looking round, to congratulate my

friend on his success, I saw him, to my infinite alarm, reel in his

saddle, and had only time to save him from falling to the ground.

The accommodation of the Ventas and Posadas is habitually wretched,

and I demanded whether there was not a house of some hidalgo in the

neighbourhood, to which the wounded officer might be carried. One of

the last shots of the skirmish had struck him in the arm, and he was

now fainting with pain. The house was pointed out, and we carried my

unfortunate friend there, in a swoon. Even in that moment of anxiety,

and with scarcely more than the first dawn to guide us, I could not

help being struck with the cultivated beauty of the avenue through

which we passed, and the profusion and variety of the flowers, which

now began to breathe their opening incense to the dawn. The house was

old, but large and handsome, and the furniture of the apartment into

which we were shown, was singularly tasteful and costly. Who the owner

was, was scarcely known among the bold fellows who accompanied us; but

by their pointings to their foreheads, and their making the sign of

the cross at every repetition of my enquiries, I was inclined to think

him some escaped lunatic. I shortly, however, received a message from

him, to tell me, that so soon as the crowd should be dismissed, he

would visit the officer. The apartment was cleared and he came. This

was a new wonder for me. It was Mordecai that entered the room. The

light was still so imperfect, that for awhile he could not recognise

either of us; and when I advanced to take his hand, and addressed him

by his name, he started back as if he had trod upon a snake. However,

his habitual presence of mind soon enabled him to answer all my

enquiries, and, among the first, one for the health and happiness of

his daughter. Fearful of the effects of his intelligence, whether good

or evil, on the nerves of Lafontaine, who still lay on the sofa,

almost invisible in the dusk, I begged to follow him to another room,

and there I listened to his whole anxious history since our

parting.--Mariamne had suddenly grown discontented with Poland; which

to Mordecai himself had become a weary residence, from the ravages of

the French war. For some reason, unaccountable to me, said the old

man, she set her heart upon Spain, and had now been domiciled in this

secluded spot for a year. But she was visibly fading away. She read

and wrote much, and was even more attached to her harp and her flowers

than ever; yet declared that she had bid farewell to the world. The

father wept as he spoke, but his were the tears of sorrow rather than

of anguish. They stole quietly down his cheeks, and showed that the

stern and haughty spirit was subdued within him. I had not ventured to

allude to Lafontaine; but the current of his own thoughts at length

led to that forbidden topic. "I am afraid, Mr Marston," said he, "that

I have been too harsh with my child. I looked for her alliance with

some of the opulent among my own kindred; or I should have rejoiced if

your regards had been fixed on her, and hers on you. And in those

dreams, I forgot that the affections must choose for themselves. I had

no objection to the young Frenchman, but that he was a stranger, and

was poor.--Yet are not we ourselves strangers? and if he was poor, was

not I rich? But all is over now; and I shall only have to follow my

poor Mariamne, where I should have much rather preceded her,--to the

grave."

I now requested to see Mariamne. She met me with almost a cry of joy,

and with a cheek of sudden crimson; but, when the first flush passed

away, her looks gave painful proof of the effect of solitude and

sorrow. The rounded beauty of her cheek was gone, her eyes, once

dancing with every emotion, were fixed and hollow, and her frame, once

remarkable for symmetry, was thin and feeble. But, her heart was

buoyant still, and when I talked of past scenes and recollections, her

eye sparkled once more. Still, her manner was changed--it was softer

and less capricious; her language, even her voice, was subdued; and

more than once I saw a tear stealing on her eye. At length, after

hearing some slight detail of her wanderings, and her fears that the

troubles of Spain might drive her from a country in whose genial

climate and flowery fields "she had hoped to end her days;" I

incidentally asked--whether, in all her wanderings, she had heard of

"my friend, Lafontaine." How impossible is it to deceive the instinct

of the female heart! The look which she gave me, the searching glance

of her fine eyes, which flashed with all their former lustre, and the

sudden quivering of her lip, told me how deeply his image was fixed in

her recollection. She saw at once that I had tidings of her lover; and

she hung upon the hand which I held out to her, with breathless and

beseeching anxiety. After some precautions, I revealed to her the

facts--that he was as faithfully devoted to her as ever, and--that he

was even under her roof!

I leave the rest of her story to be conjectured. I shall only say,

that I saw her made happy; the burden taken off her spirits which had

exhausted her frame; her former vivacity restored, her eye sparkling

once more; and even the heart of her father cheered, and acknowledging

"that there was happiness in the world, if men did not mar it for

themselves." The "course of true love" had, at last, "run smooth." I

was present at the marriage of Lafontaine. The trials of fortune had

been of infinite service to _him_; they had sobered his eccentricity,

taught him the value of a quiet mind, and prepared him for that

manlier career which belongs to the husband and the father. I left

them, thanking me in all the language of gratitude, promising to visit

me in England.

* * * * *

My mission to the junta was speedily and successfully accomplished.

Spain, in want of every thing but that which no subsidy could supply,

a determination to die in the last intrenchment, was offered arms,

ammunition, and the aid of an English army. In her pride, and yet a

pride which none could blame, she professed herself able to conquer by

her own intrepidity. Later experience showed her, by many a suffering,

the value of England as the guide, sustainer, and example of her

national strength. But Spain had still the gallant distinction of

being the first nation which, as one man, dared to defy the conqueror

of all the great military powers of the Continent. The sieges of

Saragossa and Gerona will immortalize the courage of the Spanish

soldier; the guerilla campaigns will immortalize the courage of the

Spanish peasant; and the memorable confession of the French Emperor,

that "Spain was his greatest error, and his ultimate ruin," is a

testimonial more lasting than the proudest trophy, to the magnanimous

warfare of the Peninsula.

This was the Crisis. The spirit of the whole European war now assumed

a bolder, loftier, and more triumphant form. A sudden conviction

filled the general heart, that the fortunes of the field were about to

change. Nations which had, till then, been only emulous in prostration

to the universal conqueror, now assumed the port of courage, prepared

their arms, and longed to try their cause again in battle. The outcry

of Spain, answered by the trumpet of England, pierced to the depths of

that dungeon in which the intrigue and the power of France had

laboured to inclose the continental nations. The war of the Revolution

has already found historians, of eloquence and knowledge worthy of so

magnificent an era of human change. But, to me, the chief interest

arose from its successive developments of the European mind. The whole

period was a continued awakening of faculties, hitherto almost

unknown, in the great body of the people. The first burst of the

Revolution, like the first use of gunpowder, had only shown the

boundless force of a new element of destruction. The Spanish

insurrection showed its protecting and preservative power. The

tremendous energy which seemed to defy all control, was there seen

effecting the highest results of national defence, and giving proof of

the irresistible strength provided in the population of _every_ land.

What nation of Europe does not possess a million of men for its

defence; and what invader could confront a million of men on their own

soil? Let this truth be felt, and aggression becomes hopeless, and war

ceases to exist among men.

For the first time in the history of war, it was discovered, that the

true force of kingdoms had been mistaken--a mistake which had lasted

for a thousand years; that armies were but splendid machines; and

that, while they might be crushed by the impulse of machines more

rapid, stronger, and more skilfully urged, nothing could crush the

vigour of defence, while it was supplied by a people.

The _levee en masse_ of France was but the rudest, as it was the

earliest, form of the new discovery. There, terror was the moving

principle. The conscription was the recruiting-officer. The guillotine

was the commander who manoeuvred the generals, the troops, and the

nation. Yet, the revolutionary armies differed in nothing from the

monarchical, but in the superiority of their numbers, and the

inferiority of their discipline.

The war of Spain was another, and a nobler advance. It was the war of

a nation. In France the war was the conspiracy of a faction. In Spain

the loss of the capital only inflamed the hostility of the provinces.

In France the loss of the capital would have extinguished the

Revolution; as it afterwards extinguished the Empire. I think that I

can see the provision for a still bolder and more beneficent advance,

even in those powerful developments of national capabilities. It will,

perhaps, be left to other nations. Spain and France have a yoke upon

their minds, which will disqualify them both from acting the nobler

part of guides to Europe. Superstition contains in itself the canker

of slavery; perfect freedom is essential to perfect power; and the

nation which, from the cradle, prostrates itself to the priest, must

retain the early flexure of its spine. The great experiment must be

reserved for a nobler public mind; for a people religious without

fanaticism, and free without licentiousness; honouring the wisdom of

their fathers, without rejecting the wisdom of the living age;

aspiring but to the ministration of universal good, and feeling that

its opulence, knowledge, and grandeur are only gifts for mankind.

The system of the war was now fully established. All the feelings of

England were fixed on the Peninsula, and all the politics of her

statesmen and their rivals were alike guided by the course of the

conflict. The prediction was gallantly fulfilled--that the French

empire would there expose its flank to English intrepidity; that the

breaching battery which was to open the way to Paris, would be fixed

on the Pyrenees; that the true sign of conquest was the banner of

England.

The battle of the Ministry was fought in Spain, and as victoriously as

the battle of our army. We saw Opposition gradually throw away its

arms, and gradually diminish in the popular view, until its existence

was scarcely visible. Successive changes varied the cabinet, but none

shook its stability. Successive ministers sank into the grave, but the

ministry stood. The spirit of the nation, justly proud of its

triumphs, disdained to listen to the whispers of a party, who murmured

defeat with victory before their eyes; who conjured up visions of

ruin, only to be rebuked by realities of triumph; and to whom the

national scorn of pusillanimity, and the national rejoicing in the

proudest success, could not unteach the language of despair. Perceval,

the overthrower of the Foxite ministry, perished; but the political

system of the cabinet remained unchanged. Castlereaghperished--Liverpool

perished; but the political system still remained. The successive

pilots might give up the helm, but the course of the great vessel

continued the same--guided by the same science, and making her way

through sunshine, and through storm, to the same point of destination.

The three successive ministers were men of high ability for

government, though their character of ability exhibited the most

remarkable distinctions. Perceval had been a lawyer, and had risen to

the rank of attorney-general. In the House, he carried the acuteness,

the logic, and even the manner, of his profession with him. Without

pretending to the power of eloquence, he singularly possessed the

power of conviction; without effecting changes in the theory of the

constitution, he put its truths in a new light; and without a trace of

bigotry, he defended, with conscientious vigour, the rights of the

national religion. Sustaining a bold struggle at the head of the

feeblest minority perhaps ever known in Parliament, he had shown

unshaken courage and undismayed principle in the day of the Foxite

supremacy. This defence was at length turned into assault, and his

opponents were driven from power. His ministry was too brief for his

fame. But, when he fell by the hand of a maniac, he left a universal

impression on the mind of the empire, that the blow had deprived it of

a great ministerial mind.

Lord Castlereagh exhibited a character of a totally different order,

yet equally fitted for his time. An Irishman, he had the habitual

intrepidity of his countrymen, combined with the indefatigable

diligence of England. Nobly connected, and placed high in public life

by that connexion, he showed himself capable of sustaining his

ministerial rank by personal capacity. Careless of the style of his

speeches, he was yet a grave, solid, and fully-informed debater. But

it was in the council that his value to the country was most

acknowledged. His conception of the rights, the influence, and the

services of England, was lofty; and, when the period came for deciding

on her rank in the presence of continental diplomacy, he was her

chosen, and her successful, representative. His natural place was

among the councils of camps, where sovereigns were the soldiers. The

"march to Paris" was due to his courage; and the first fall of

Napoleon was effected by the ambassador of England.

Lord Liverpool was a man equally fitted for his time. The war had

triumphantly closed. But, a period of perturbed feelings and financial

necessities followed. It required in the minister a combination of

sound sense and practical vigour--of deference for the public

feelings, yet respect for the laws--of promptitude in discovering

national resources, and yet of firmness in repelling factious change.

The head of the cabinet possessed those qualities. Without brilliancy,

without eloquence, without accomplished literature; still, no man

formed his views with a clearer intelligence; and no man pursued them

with more steady determination. Perhaps disdaining the glitter of

popularity, no minister, for the last half century, had been so

singularly exempt from all the sarcasms of public opinion. The nation

relied on his sincerity, honoured his purity of principle, and

willingly confided its safety to hands which none believed capable of

a stain.

But the characters of those three ministers were striking in a still

higher point of view. Their qualities seem to have been expressly

constructed to meet the peculiar exigency of their times.

Perceval--acute, strict, and with strong religious conceptions--to

meet a period, when religious laxity in the cabinet had already

enfeebled the defence of the national religion. Castlereagh--stately,

bold, and high-toned--to meet a period, when the fate of Europe was to

be removed from cabinets to the field, and when he was to carry the

will of England among assembled monarchs. Liverpool--calm, rational,

and practical; the man of conscience and common sense--for the period,

when the great questions of religion had been quieted, the great

questions of the war had died with the war, and when the supreme

difficulty of government was, to reconcile the pressure of financial

exigency with the progress of the people--to invigorate the public

frame without inflaming it by dangerous innovation--and to reconstruct

the whole commercial constitution, without infringing on those

principles which had founded the prosperity of the empire.

At length the consummation came: the French empire fell on the field

by the hand of England. All the sovereigns of Europe rushed in to

strip the corpse, and each carried back a portion of the spoils. But

the conqueror was content with the triumph, and asked no more of glory

than the liberation of mankind.

While all was public exultation for this crowning event, fortune had

not neglected to reward the gentler virtues of one worthy of its

noblest gifts. In my first campaign with the Prussian troops in

France, I had intrusted to the care of the old domestic whom I found

in the Chateau de Montauban, an escritoire and a picture, belonging to

the family of Clotilde. The old man had disappeared; and I took it for

granted that he had been plundered, or had died.

But one day, after my return from one of those splendid entertainments

with which the Regent welcomed the Allied sovereigns, I found Clotilde

deeply agitated. The picture of her relative was before her, and she

was gazing at its singularly expressive and lovely countenance with

intense interest.

She flew into my arms. "I have longed for your coming," said she, with

glowing lips and tearful eyes, "to offer at least one proof of

gratitude for years of the truest protection, and the most generous

love. Michelle, the husband of my nurse, has arrived; and he tells me,

that this escritoire contains the title-deeds of my family. I was

resolved that you alone should open it. In the frame of that picture,

in a secret drawer, is the key." The spring was touched, the key was

found; and in the little chest was discovered, untouched by chance or

time, the document entitling my beautiful and high-hearted wife to one

of the finest possessions in France. By a singular instance of good

fortune, the property had not been alienated, like so many of the

estates of the noblesse; and it now lay open to the claims of the

original proprietorship. I hastened to Paris. My claim was

acknowledged by the returned Bourbon, and Clotilde had the delight of

once more sitting under the vine and the fig-tree of her ancestors.

The old domestic had made it the business of years to obtain the means

of reaching England. But the war had placed obstacles in his way every

where, and he devoted himself thenceforth to the guardianship of his

precious deposit, as the duty of his life. He was almost pathetic, in

his narration of the hazards to which it had been exposed in the

perpetual convulsions of the country, and in the rejoicing with which

he felt himself at last enabled to place it in the hands of its

rightful mistress, the last descendant of the noble house of De

Tourville.--But I had still to experience another gift of fortune.

On the evening of my birth-day, Clotilde had given a rustic fete to

the children of her tenantry; and all were dancing in front of the

chateau, with the gaiety and with the grace which nature seems to have

conferred as an especial gift on even the humblest classes of France.

The day was one of the luxury of summer. The landscape before me was a

rich extent of plain and hill; the fragrance of the vast gardens of

the chateau as rising as the twilight approached; my infants were

clustering round my knee; and in that thankfulness of heart, which is

not less sincere for its not being expressed in words, I came to the

conclusion, that no access of wealth, or of honours, could add to my

substantial happiness at that hour.

My reverie was broken by the sound of a _caleche_ driving up the

avenue. A courier alighted from it, who brought a letter with a black

seal, addressed to me. It was from the family solicitor. My noble

brother had died in Madeira; where he had gone in the hopeless attempt

to recruit a frame which he had exhausted by a life of excess. In that

hour, I gave him the regrets which belonged to the tie of blood. I

forgot his selfishness, and forgave his alienation. I thought of him

only as the remembered playfellow of my early days; and could say in

heart--"Alas, my brother!" The landscape before me at last sank into

night; and with feelings darkened like it, yet calm and still, I saw

the closing of a day which, painful as was the cause, yet called me to

new duties, gave me a stronger hold upon society, and placed me in

that position which I fully believe to combine more of the true

materials of happiness and honour than any other on earth--that of an

opulent English nobleman.

My brother, dying childless, had devolved the family estates to me,

disburdened of the results of his prodigality; but I had still much to

occupy me, in restoring them from the neglect of years. The life of

the member of government was now to alternate with the life of the

country gentleman; and my transfer to the House of Peers gave me the

comparative leisure, essential to the fulfilment of the large and

liberal duties which belong to the English landholder. To cheer the

country life by rational hospitality; to make friends of those whom

nature had made dependents; to sustain those laws which had turned

England into a garden; and to protect that "bold peasantry," who ought

to be the pride, as they are the strength of their country; to excite

the country gentlemen to the scientific study of the noblest of all

arts, as it was the first, the cultivation of the soil; to maintain

among that gallant race a high sense of their purposes, their powers,

and their position; to invigorate the principles which had made them

the surest defenders of the throne in its day of adversity; and to fix

in their minds by example, more effectual than precept, a solemn

fidelity to the faith and to the freedom of their forefathers:--these

were the objects which I proposed to myself, and which the loftiest

intellect, or the amplest opulence, might be well employed in

attempting to fulfil.

Those objects had been placed before England, from the day when the

light of the Reformation broke through the darkness of a thousand

years, and her brow was first designed for the diadem. By those she

was made the universal protector of Europe, in its day of fugitive

princes and falling thrones; and by those alone will be erected round

her, if she shall remain true to her allegiance, a wall of fire, in

the days of that approaching contest which shall bring the powers of

good and evil front to front, in strength and hostility unknown

before, and consummate the wars of the world.

Yet with those tranquil and retired pursuits, I still took my share in

the activity of public life. I was still minister, and bore my part in

the discussions of the legislature. But the great questions which had

once sounded in my ear, like the call to battle in the ear of the

warrior, had passed away. The minds that "rode in the whirlwind, and

ruled the storm," had vanished with the storm. The surge had gone

down; and neither the dangers of my earlier day, nor the powers which

were summoned to resist them, were to be found in the living

generation. Yet, let it not be thought that I regard the mind of

England as exhausted, or even as exhaustible. The only distinction

between the periods is, that one gave the impulse, and that the other

only continues it. When peril comes again, we shall again see the

development of power. We might as well doubt the existence of

lightning, because the day is serene, the sun shining, and no cloud

rolls across the heaven. But when the balance of the elements demands

to be restored, we shall again be dazzled by the flash, and awed by

the thunder.

But time has taught me additional lessons. I have learned to see a

hand, in all its clouds, which guides man and kingdoms with more than

human power. In these remembrances, I have spoken but little of

religion. It belongs to the chamber more than to the council; and it

is less honoured than humiliated by being brought idly before men. But

by that light I have been able to see, where subtler minds have been

blind. The man may be bewildered by the glare of the torch in his

hand, who would have found his way by trusting to the milder lustre of

the stars. In the great war of our time, the greatest since the fall

of the Roman empire--the war of the French Revolution--I think, that I

can trace a divine protection, distinctly given to England as the

champion of justice, honour, and religion. I offer but the outline of

this view; but to me the proof is demonstrative.--In every instance in

which France aimed an especial blow at England, that blow was retorted

by an especial retribution; while her assaults on the continental

kingdoms were made with triumphant impunity.

I give the examples.--The French expedition to Egypt was formed with

the express object of breaking down the influence of England in the

East, and ultimately subverting her Indian empire--that expedition was

the _first_ which tarnished the military renown of the Republic, cost

her a fleet, and lost her an army. Of the army which Napoleon led to

Egypt, not a battalion returned to Europe but as the prisoners of

England!

The French invasion of Spain was a blow aimed _expressly_ at England.

Its object was the invasion of England--the Spanish war broke down the

military renown of the Empire, and was pronounced by Napoleon to be

the origin of his ruin!

The invasion of Russia was a blow aimed _expressly_ at England. Its

object was the extinction of English commerce in the whole sea-line of

the north--that invasion was punished, by the ruin of the whole

veteran army of France!

Napoleon himself at length met the troops of England. He met them with

an arrogant assumption of victory--"Ah! je les tiens, ces Anglais."

Never was presumption more deeply punished. This single conflict

_destroyed_ him; his laurels, his diadem, and his dynasty, were

blasted together!

It is not less memorable, that during the entire Revolutionary war,

France was never suffered to inflict an injury on England; with one

exception--the perfidious seizure of the English travelling in the

French territories under the safeguard of the Imperial passports. But

this, too, had its punishment--and one of the most especial and

characteristic retribution--Napoleon himself was sent to a dungeon! By

a fate unheard of even among fallen princes, the man who had

treacherously made prisoners of the English was himself made a

prisoner, was delivered into English hands, was consigned to captivity

in an English island, and died the prisoner of England!

I speak of events like these, not in the spirit of superstition, nor

in the fond presumption of being an interpreter of the mysterious ways

of Providence. I record them, in a full consciousness of the

immeasurable distance between the intellect of man and the wisdom of

the supreme Disposer. But they convey, at least to my own feelings, a

confidence, a solemn security, a calm yet ardent conviction, that

chance has no share in the government of the world; that the great

tide of things, in its rise and fall, has laws, which, if unapproached

by the feebleness of human faculties, are not the less true, vast, and

imperishable; that if, like the air, the agency of that ruling and

boundless authority is invisible, we may yet feel its existence in its

effects, rejoice in the acknowledgment of a power which nothing can

exhaust, and take to our bosoms the high consolation, that the good of

man is the supreme principle of the system.

* * * * *

Men actively employed in public life, are strangely apt to think that

there is no progress outside their circle. But, on my return to

Mortimer Castle, I found this conception amply confuted. The world had

moved as rapidly in those shades, as in the centre of cabinets and

courts. Time had done its work, in changing the condition of almost

every human being whom I had known in my early days. The brothers and

sisters, whom I had left children, were now in the full beauty of

their prime; my brothers showy and stirring youths; my sisters fair

and gentle girls, just reaching that period of life when the

countenance and mind are in their bloom together, and the highborn

woman of England is the loveliest perhaps in the world. The

extravagance of my elder brother had dilapidated the provision

intended for the younger branches of his house. My habits, learned in

a sterner school, enabled me to retrieve their fortunes, and I thus

secured a new tie to their regards. Justice is essential to all

gratitude, and I found them ready to pay the tribute, to the full.

Among my first visits was one to my old friend and tutor, Vincent. I

found him still resident on his living; and with spirits, on which

time had wrought no change. Years had passed lightly over his head.

His eye was as vivid, and his mind as active as ever. He perhaps

stooped a little more, and his frame had lost something of that

elasticity of step which had so often tried my young nerves in our

ramblings over the hills. But he was the same cordial, animated, and

high-toned being, in all his feelings, that I had seen him from the

first hour. I found him in his garden, arranging, selecting, and

enjoying his flower-beds with all the spirit of a horticulturist. But

he apologised for what he termed, "its disorder." "For," said he, "I

have lost all my gardeners." On my looking doubtful, "All my girls,"

said he, "are gone; all married; all wedded to one neighbour or

another. Such is the way in which I have been left alone." I made my

condolences on his solitude, in due form. "Yet I am not quite

solitary," added the gay old man, "after all; or my solitude depends

upon myself. My girls are all married to our squires, honest fellows,

and some of them well enough off in the world. But I made a

stipulation, that none of them should marry out of sight from the

gazebo on the top of yonder hill; and when I want their company, I

have only to hoist a flag. You see that I have not altogether

forgotten my days of the sabre and the signal-post; my telegraph works

well, and I have them all trooping over here with the regularity of a

squadron."

The approach of winter made the castle a scene of increased

liveliness. I had always looked with strong distaste on the habit of

flying to watering-places at the season when the presence of the

leading families of a county is most important to the comforts of the

tenantry, and to the intelligent and social intercourse of the higher

ranks. I sent a request to Lafontaine and his wife, that they should

perform their "covenant," and venture to see "how English life

contrived to get through the dulness of its Decembers." My request was

countersigned by Clotilde, and this was irresistible. They came, and

were received with a joyous welcome. They too had undergone a change.

Lafontaine was graver, and was much the better for his gravity. He was

now the sincere and kind-hearted being for which nature had intended

him. The coxcombry of French early life had disappeared, and left

behind it only that general grace and spirit which makes the maturity

of a foreign life its most interesting portion. Mariamne was still

more advantageously changed. Her wild vivacity was less subdued than

transformed into elegance of manner; her features were still handsome,

travel had given her knowledge, and her natural talents had been

cultivated by the solitary hours, in which but for that cultivation

she might have sunk into the grave. She had brought with her, too,

another remembrance, and one of that order which produces the most

powerful effect upon the whole character of woman. She had brought her

first-born, a lovely infant, in which her whole soul seemed to be

absorbed, and in which she already discovered more beauties and good

qualities than fate or fortune had ever given to human nature. But the

centre of our circle, and the admiration and love of all, sat my wife,

my generous, noble, pure-spirited Clotilde. Time, too, had wrought its

change on her; but it was only to give her deeper claims on the

feelings of a heart which could not imagine happiness without her. The

heroine had wholly disappeared, and given place to the woman; the

character of resistance to the shocks and frowns of fortune, which

adversity had made essential perhaps to her being, had passed away

with her day of suffering. She was now soft, mild, tender, and

confiding. She often reminded me of some of those plants which, when

exposed to the storm, contract and diminish their form and foliage;

but, when sheltered, resume their original luxuriance and loveliness.

Clotilde, in the sufferings of the emigration, in the terrors of the

Revolution, and in the march through the Vendee, might have perished,

but for that loftiness of soul which was awakened by the exigency of

the trial. But now, surrounded with all the security of rank, and with

opulence for her enjoyment, and with love to cherish her, she

displayed the force of her nature only in the fondness of her

affections. Thus surrounded, thus cheered, thus looked up to by beings

whom I loved; what had I to ask for more? Nothing. I here close my

page of life. I still vividly retain all the sense of duty, all the

feeling of patriotism, and all the consciousness, that age will

neither dull my heart towards those whom I have so long loved, nor

shut up theirs to me. I believe in the possibility of friendship

untainted by selfishness, and I am firm in the faith, of love that

knows no decline. I look round me, and am serenely happy. I look above

me, and am sacredly thankful.

HOW WE GOT UP THE GLENMUTCHKIN RAILWAY, AND HOW WE GOT OUT OF IT.

I was confoundedly hard up. My patrimony, never of the largest, had

been for the last year on the decrease--a herald would have emblazoned

it, "ARGENT, a money-bag improper, in detriment"--and though the

attenuating process was not excessively rapid, it was, nevertheless,

proceeding at a steady ratio. As for the ordinary means and appliances

by which men contrive to recruit their exhausted exchequers, I knew

none of them. Work I abhorred with a detestation worthy of a scion of

nobility; and, I believe, you could just as soon have persuaded the

lineal representative of the Howards or Percys to exhibit himself in

the character of a mountebank, as have got me to trust my person on

the pinnacle of a three-legged stool. The rule of three is all very

well for base mechanical souls; but I flatter myself I have an

intellect too large to be limited to a ledger. "Augustus," said my

poor mother to me, one day while stroking my hyacinthine

tresses--"Augustus, my dear boy, whatever you do, never forget that

you are a gentleman." The maternal maxim sunk deeply into my heart,

and I never for a moment have forgotten it.

Notwithstanding this aristocratical resolution, the great practical

question, "How am I to live?" began to thrust itself unpleasantly

before me. I am one of that unfortunate class who have neither uncles

nor aunts. For me, no yellow liverless individual, with characteristic

bamboo and pigtail--emblems of half a million--returned to his native

shores from Ceylon or remote Penang. For me, no venerable spinster

hoarded in the Trongate, permitting herself few luxuries during a

long-protracted life, save a lass and a lanthorn, a parrot, and the

invariable baudrons of antiquity. No such luck was mine. Had all

Glasgow perished by some vast epidemic, I should not have found myself

one farthing the richer. There would have been no golden balsam for me

in the accumulated woes of Tradestown, Shettleston, and Camlachie. The

time has been when--according to Washington Irving and other veracious

historians--a young man had no sooner got into difficulties than a

guardian angel appeared to him in a dream, with the information that

at such and such a bridge, or under such and such a tree, he might

find, at a slight expenditure of labour, a gallipot secured with

bladder, and filled with glittering tomauns; or in the extremity of

despair, the youth had only to append himself to a cord, and

straightaway the other end thereof, forsaking its staple in the roof,

would disclose amidst the fractured ceiling the glories of a

profitable pose. These blessed days have long since gone by--at any

rate, no such luck was mine. My guardian angel was either woefully

ignorant of metallurgy, or the stores had been surreptitiously

ransacked; and as to the other expedient, I frankly confess I should

have liked some better security for its result, than the precedent of

the "Heir of Lynn."

It is a great consolation amidst all the evils of life, to know that,

however bad your circumstances may be, there is always somebody else

in nearly the same predicament. My chosen friend and ally, Bob

M'Corkindale, was equally hard up with myself, and, if possible, more

averse to exertion. Bob was essentially a speculative man--that is, in

a philosophical sense. He had once got hold of a stray volume of Adam

Smith, and muddled his brains for a whole week over the intricacies of

the _Wealth of Nations_. The result was a crude farrago of notions

regarding the true nature of money, the soundness of currency, and

relative value of capital, with which he nightly favoured an admiring

audience at "The Crow;" for Bob was by no means--in the literal

acceptation of the word--a dry philosopher. On the contrary, he

perfectly appreciated the merits of each distinct distillery; and was

understood to be the compiler of a statistical work, entitled, _A Tour

through the Alcoholic Districts of Scotland_. It had very early

occurred to me, who knew as much of political economy as of the

bagpipes, that a gentleman so well versed in the art of accumulating

national wealth, must have some remote ideas of applying his

principles profitably on a smaller scale. Accordingly, I gave

M'Corkindale an unlimited invitation to my lodgings; and, like a good

hearty fellow as he was, he availed himself every evening of the

license; for I had laid in a fourteen gallon cask of Oban whisky, and

the quality of the malt was undeniable.

These were the first glorious days of general speculation. Railroads

were emerging from the hands of the greater into the fingers of the

lesser capitalists. Two successful harvests had given a fearful

stimulus to the national energy; and it appeared perfectly certain

that all the populous towns would be united, and the rich agricultural

districts intersected, by the magical bands of iron. The columns of

the newspapers teemed every week with the parturition of novel

schemes; and the shares were no sooner announced than they were

rapidly subscribed for. But what is the use of my saying any thing

more about the history of last year? Every one of us remembers it

perfectly well. It was a capital year on the whole, and put money into

many a pocket. About that time, Bob and I commenced operations. Our

available capital, or negotiable bullion, in the language of my

friend, amounted to about three hundred pounds, which we set aside as

a joint fund for speculation. Bob, in a series of learned discourses,

had convinced me that it was not only folly, but a positive sin, to

leave this sum lying in the bank at a pitiful rate of interest, and

otherwise unemployed, whilst every one else in the kingdom was having

a pluck at the public pigeon. Somehow or other, we were unlucky in our

first attempts. Speculators are like wasps; for when they have once

got hold of a ripening and peach-like project, they keep it rigidly

for their own swarm, and repel the approach of interlopers.

Notwithstanding all our efforts, and very ingenious ones they were, we

never, in a single instance, succeeded in procuring an allocation of

original shares; and though we did now and then make a hit by

purchase, we more frequently bought at a premium, and parted with our

scrip at a discount. At the end of six months, we were not twenty

pounds richer than before.

"This will never do," said Bob, as he sat one evening in my rooms

compounding his second tumbler. "I thought we were living in an

enlightened age; but I find I was mistaken. That brutal spirit of

monopoly is still abroad and uncurbed. The principles; of free-trade

are utterly forgotten, or misunderstood. Else how comes it that David

Spreul received but yesterday an allocation of two hundred shares in

the Westermidden Junction; whilst your application and mine, for a

thousand each, were overlooked? Is this a state of things to be

tolerated? Why should he, with his fifty thousand pounds, receive a

slapping premium, whilst our three hundred of available capital

remains unrepresented? The fact is monstrous, and demands the

immediate and serious interference of the legislature."

"It is a bloody shame," said I, fully alive to the manifold advantages

of a premium.

"I'll tell you what, Dunshunner," rejoined M'Corkindale, "it's no use

going on in this way. We haven't shown half pluck enough. These

fellows consider us as snobs, because we don't take the bull by the

horns. Now's the time for a bold stroke. The public are quite ready to

subscribe for any thing--and we'll start a railway for ourselves."

"Start a railway with three hundred pounds of capital!"

"Pshaw, man! you don't know what you're talking about--we've a great

deal more capital than that. Have not I told you seventy times over,

that every thing a man has--his coat, his hat, the tumblers he drinks

from, nay, his very corporeal existence--is absolute marketable

capital? What do you call that fourteen-gallon cask, I should like to

know?"

"A compound of hoops and staves, containing about a quart and a half

of spirits--you have effectually accounted for the rest."

"Then it has gone to the fund of profit and loss, that's all. Never

let me hear you sport those old theories again. Capital is

indestructible, as I am ready to prove to you any day, in half an

hour. But let us sit down seriously to business. We are rich enough

to pay for the advertisements, and that is all we need care for in the

mean time. The public is sure to step in, and bear us out handsomely

with the rest."

"But where in the face of the habitable globe shall the railway be?

England is out of the question, and I hardly know a spot in the

Lowlands that is not occupied already."

"What do you say to a Spanish scheme--the Alcantara Union? Hang me if

I know whether Alcantara is in Spain or Portugal; but nobody else

does, and the one is quite as good as the other. Or what would you

think of the Palermo Railway, with a branch to the sulphur

mines?--that would be popular in the North--or the Pyrenees Direct?

They would all go to a premium."

"I must confess I should prefer a line at home."

"Well, then, why not try the Highlands? There must be lots of traffic

there in the shape of sheep, grouse, and Cockney tourists, not to

mention salmon and other et ceteras. Couldn't we tip them a railway

somewhere in the west?"

"There's Glenmutchkin, for instance"----

"Capital, my dear fellow! Glorious! By Jove, first-rate!" shouted Bob

in an ecstasy of delight. "There's a distillery there, you know, and a

fishing village at the foot; at least there used to be six years ago,

when I was living with the exciseman. There may be some bother about

the population, though. The last laird shipped every mother's son of

the original Celts to America; but, after all, that's not of much

consequence. I see the whole thing! Unrivalled scenery--stupendous

waterfalls--herds of black cattle--spot where Prince Charles Edward

met Macgrugar of Glengrugar and his clan! We could not possibly have

lighted on a more promising place. Hand us over that sheet of paper,

like a good fellow, and a pen. There is no time to be lost, and the

sooner we get out the prospectus the better."

"But, Heaven bless you, Bob, there's a great deal to be thought of

first. Who are we to get for a provisional committee?"

"That's very true," said Bob musingly. "We _must_ treat them to some

respectable names, that is, good sounding ones. I'm afraid there is

little chance of our producing a Peer to begin with?"

"None whatever--unless we could invent one, and that's hardly

safe--_Burke's Peerage_ has gone through too many editions. Couldn't

we try the Dormants?"

"That would be rather dangerous in the teeth of the standing orders.

But what do you say to a baronet? There's Sir Polloxfen Tremens. He

got himself served the other day to a Nova Scotia baronetcy, with just

as much title as you or I have; and he has sported the riband, and

dined out on the strength of it ever since. He'll join us at once, for

he has not a sixpence to lose."

"Down with him, then," and we headed the Provisional list with the

pseudo Orange-tawney.

"Now," said Bob, "it's quite indispensable, as this is a Highland

line, that we should put forward a Chief or two. That has always a

great effect upon the English, whose feudal notions are rather of the

mistiest, and principally derived from Waverley."

"Why not write yourself down as the Laird of M'Corkindale?" said I. "I

daresay you would not be negatived by a counter-claim."

"That would hardly do," replied Bob, "as I intend to be Secretary.

After all, what's the use of thinking about it? Here goes for an

extempore Chief," and the villain wrote down the name of Tavish

M'Tavish of Invertavish.

"I say, though," said I, "we must have a real Highlander on the list.

If we go on this way, it will become a Justiciary matter."

"You're devilish scrupulous, Gus," said Bob, who, if left to himself,

would have stuck in the names of the heathen gods and godesses, or

borrowed his directors from the Ossianic chronicles, rather than have

delayed the prospectus. "Where the mischief are we to find the men? I

can think of no others likely to go the whole hog; can you?"

"I don't know a single Celt in Glasgow except old M'Closkie, the

drunken porter at the corner of Jamaica Street."

"He's the very man! I suppose, after the manner of his tribe, he will

do any thing for a pint of whisky. But what shall we call him? Jamaica

Street, I fear, will hardly do for a designation."

"Call him THE M'CLOSKIE. It will be sonorous in the ears of the

Saxon!"

"Bravo!" and another Chief was added to the roll of the clans.

"Now," said Bob, "we must put you down. Recollect, all the

management--that is, the allocation--will be entrusted to you.

Augustus--you haven't a middle name I think?--well, then, suppose we

interpolate 'Reginald;' it has a smack of the Crusades. Augustus

Reginald Dunshunner, Esq. of ---- where, in the name of Munchausen?"

"I'm sure I don't know. I never had any land beyond the contents of a

flower-pot. Stay--I rather think I have a superiority somewhere about

Paisley."

"Just the thing," cried Bob. "It's heritable property, and therefore

titular. What's the denomination?"

"St Mirrens."

"Beautiful! Dunshunner of St Mirrens, I give you joy! Had you

discovered that a little sooner--and I wonder you did not think of

it--we might both of us have had lots of allocations. These are not

the times to conceal hereditary distinctions. But now comes the

serious work. We must have one or two men of known wealth upon the

list. The chaff is nothing without a decoy-bird. Now, can't you help

me with a name?"

"In that case," said I, "the game is up, and the whole scheme

exploded. I would as soon undertake to evoke the ghost of

Croesus."

"Dunshunner," said Bob very seriously, "to be a man of information,

you are possessed of marvellous few resources. I am quite ashamed of

you. Now listen to me. I have thought deeply upon this subject, and am

quite convinced that with some little trouble we may secure the

co-operation of a most wealthy and influential body--one, too, that is

generally supposed to have stood aloof from all speculation of the

kind, and whose name would be a tower of strength in the monied

quarters. I allude," continued Bob, reaching across for the kettle,

"to the great Dissenting Interest."

"The what?" cried I aghast.

"The great Dissenting Interest. You can't have failed to observe the

row they have lately been making about Sunday travelling and

education. Old Sam Sawley, the coffin-maker, is their principal

spokesman here; and wherever he goes the rest will follow, like a

flock of sheep bounding after a patriarchal ram. I propose, therefore,

to wait upon him to-morrow, and request his co-operation in a scheme

which is not only to prove profitable, but to make head against the

lax principles of the present age. Leave me alone to tickle him. I

consider his name, and those of one or two others belonging to the

same meeting-house--fellows with bank-stock, and all sorts of tin--as

perfectly secure. These dissenters smell a premium from an almost

incredible distance. We can fill up the rest of the committee with

ciphers, and the whole thing is done.

"But the engineer--we must announce such an officer as a matter of

course."

"I never thought of that," said Bob. "Couldn't we hire a fellow from

one of the steam-boats?"

"I fear that might get us into trouble: You know there are such things

as gradients and sections to be prepared. But there's Watty Solder,

the gasfitter, who failed the other day. He's a sort of civil engineer

by trade, and will jump at the proposal like a trout at the tail of a

May fly."

"Agreed. Now, then, let's fix the number of shares. This is our first

experiment, and I think we ought to be moderate. No sound political

economist is avaricious. Let us say twelve thousand, at twenty pounds

a-piece."

"So be it."

"Well, then, that's arranged. I'll see Sawley and the rest to-morrow;

settle with Solder, and then write out the prospectus. You look in

upon me in the evening, and we'll revise it together. Now, by your

leave, let's have in the Welsh rabbit and another tumbler to drink

success and prosperity to the Glenmutchkin railway."

I confess, that when I rose on the morrow, with a slight headache and

a tongue indifferently parched, I recalled to memory, not without

perturbation of conscience, and some internal qualms, the conversation

of the previous evening. I felt relieved, however, after two spoonfuls

of carbonate of soda, and a glance at the newspaper, wherein I

perceived the announcement of no less than four other schemes equally

preposterous with our own. But, after all, what right had I to assume

that the Glenmutchkin project would prove an ultimate failure? I had

not a scrap of statistical information that might entitle me to form

such an opinion. At any rate, Parliament, by substituting the Board of

Trade as an initiating body of enquiry, had created a responsible

tribunal, and freed us from the chance of obloquy. I saw before me a

vision of six months' steady gambling, at manifest advantage, in the

shares, before a report could possibly be pronounced, or our

proceedings in any way overhauled. Of course I attended that evening

punctually at my friend M'Corkindale's. Bob was in high feather; for

Sawley no sooner heard of the principles upon which the railway was to

be conducted, and his own nomination as a director, than he gave in

his adhesion, and promised his unflinching support to the uttermost.

The Prospectus ran as follows:--

"DIRECT GLENMUTCHKIN RAILWAY.

In 12,000 Shares of L.20 each. Deposit L.1 per Share.

_Provisional Committee._

SIR POLLOXFEN TREMENS, Bart. of Toddymains.

TAVISH M'TAVISH of Invertavish.

THE M'CLOSKIE.

AUGUSTUS REGINALD DUNSHUNNER, Esq. of St Mirrens.

SAMUEL SAWLEY, Esq., Merchant.

MHIC-MHAC-VICH-INDUIBH.

PHELIM O'FINLAN, Esq. of Castle-rook, Ireland.

THE CAPTAIN of M'ALCOHOL.

FACTOR for GLENTUMBLERS.

JOHN JOB JOBSON, Esq., Manufacturer.

EVAN M'CLAW of Glenscart and Inveryewky.

JOSEPH HECKLES, Esq.

HABBAKUK GRABBIE, Portioner in Ramoth-Drumclog.

_Engineer_--WALTER SOLDER, Esq.

_Interim Secretary_--ROBERT M'CORKINDALE, Esq.

"The necessity of a direct line of Railway communication through

the fertile and populous district known as the VALLEY of

GLENMUTCHKIN, has been long felt and universally acknowledged.

Independent of the surpassing grandeur of its mountain scenery,

which shall immediately be referred to, and other considerations

of even greater importance, GLENMUTCHKIN is known to the

capitalist as the most important BREEDING STATION in the

Highlands of Scotland, and indeed as the great emporium from

which the southern markets are supplied. It has been calculated

by a most eminent authority, that every acre in the strath is

capable of rearing twenty head of cattle; and, as has been

ascertained after a careful admeasurement, that there are not

less than TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND improvable acres immediately

contiguous to the proposed line of Railway, it may confidently be

assumed that the number of cattle to be conveyed along the line

will amount to FOUR MILLIONS annually, which, at the lowest

estimate, would yield a revenue larger, in proportion to the

capital subscribed, than that of any Railway as yet completed

within the United Kingdom. From this estimate the traffic in

Sheep and Goats, with which the mountains are literally covered,

has been carefully excluded, it having been found quite

impossible (from its extent) to compute the actual revenue to be

drawn from that most important branch. It may, however, be

roughly assumed as from seventeen to nineteen _per cent_ upon the

whole, after deduction of the working expenses.

"The population of Glenmutchkin is extremely dense. Its situation

on the west coast has afforded it the means of direct

communication with America, of which for many years the

inhabitants have actively availed themselves. Indeed the amount

of exportation of live stock from this part of the Highlands to

the Western continent, has more than once attracted the

attention of Parliament. The Manufactures are large and

comprehensive, and include the most famous distilleries in the

world. The Minerals are most abundant, and amongst these may be

reckoned quartz, porphyry, felspar, malachite, manganese, and

basalt.

"At the foot of the valley, and close to the sea, lies the

important village known as the CLACHAN of INVERSTARVE. It is

supposed by various eminent antiquaries to have been the capital

of the Picts, and, amongst the busy inroads of commercial

prosperity, it still retains some interesting traces of its

former grandeur. There is a large fishing station here, to which

vessels from every nation resort, and the demand for foreign

produce is daily and steadily increasing.

"As a sporting country Glenmutchkin is unrivalled; but it is by

the tourists that its beauties will most greedily be sought.

These consist of every combination which plastic nature can

afford--cliffs of unusual magnitude and grandeur--waterfalls only

second to the sublime cascades of Norway--woods, of which the

bark is a remarkably valuable commodity. It need scarcely be

added, to rouse the enthusiasm inseparable from this glorious

glen, that here, in 1745, Prince Charles Edward Stuart, then in

the zenith of his hopes, was joined by the brave Sir Grugar

M'Grugar at the head of his devoted clan.

"The Railway will be twelve miles long, and can be completed

within six months after the Act of Parliament is obtained. The

gradients are easy, and the curves obtuse. There are no viaducts

of any importance, and only four tunnels along the whole length

of the line. The shortest of those does not exceed a mile and a

half.

"In conclusion, the projectors of this Railway beg to state that

they have determined, as a principle, to set their face AGAINST

ALL SUNDAY TRAVELLING WHATSOEVER, and to oppose EVERY BILL which

may hereafter be brought into Parliament, unless it shall contain

a clause to that effect. It is also their intention to take up

the cause of the poor and neglected STOKER, for whose

accommodation, and social, moral, religious, and intellectual

improvement a large stock of evangelical tracts will speedily be

required. Tenders of these, in quantities of not less than

12,000, may be sent in to the interim secretary. Shares must be

applied for within ten days from the present date.

"By order of the Provisional Committee,

"ROBT. M'CORKINDALE, _Secretary_."

"There!" said Bob, slapping down the prospectus on the table, with the

jauntiness of a Cockney vouchsafing a pint of Hermitage to his

guests--"What do you think of that? If it doesn't do the business

effectually, I shall submit to be called a Dutchman. That last touch

about the stoker will bring us in the subscriptions of the old ladies

by the score."

"Very masterly, indeed," said I. "But who the deuce is

Mhic-Mhac-vich-Induibh?"

"A _bona-fide_ chief, I assure you, though a little reduced: I picked

him up upon the Broomielaw. His grandfather had an island somewhere to

the west of the Hebrides; but it is not laid down in the maps."

"And the Captain of M'Alcohol?"

"A crack distiller."

"And the Factor for Glentumblers?"

"His principal customer. But, bless you, my dear St Mirrens! don't

trouble yourself any more about the committee. They are as respectable

a set--on paper at least--as you would wish to see of a summer's

morning, and the beauty of it is that they will give us no manner of

trouble. Now about the allocation. You and I must restrict ourselves

to a couple of thousand shares a-piece. That's only a third of the

whole, but it wont do to be greedy."

"But, Bob, consider! Where on earth are we to find the money to pay up

the deposits?"

"Can you, the principal director of the Glenmutchkin Railway, ask me,

the secretary, such a question? Don't you know that any of the banks

will give us tick to the amount 'of half the deposits.' All that is

settled already, and you can get your two thousand pounds whenever you

please merely for the signing of a bill. Sawley must get a thousand

according to stipulation--Jobson, Heckles, and Grabbie, at least five

hundred a-piece, and another five hundred, I should think, will

exhaust the remaining means of the committee. So that, out of our

whole stock, there remain just five thousand shares to be allocated to

the speculative and evangelical public. My eyes! won't there be a

scramble for them?"

Next day our prospectus appeared in the newspapers. It was read,

canvassed, and generally approved of. During the afternoon, I took an

opportunity of looking into the Tontine, and whilst under shelter of

the _Glasgow Herald_, my ears were solaced with such ejaculations as

the following:--

"I say, Jimsy, hae ye seen this grand new prospectus for a railway tae

Glenmutchkin?"

"Ay--it looks no that ill. The Hieland lairds are pitting their best

fit foremost. Will ye apply for shares?"

"I think I'll tak' twa hundred. Wha's Sir Polloxfen Tremens?"

"He'll be yin o' the Ayrshire folk. He used to rin horses at the

Paisley races."

("The devil he did!" thought I.)

"D'ye ken ony o' the directors, Jimsy?"

"I ken Sawley fine. Ye may depend on't, it's a gude thing if he's

in't, for he's a howkin' body."

"Then it's sure to gae up. What prem. d'ye think it will bring?"

"Twa pund a share, and maybe mair."

"'Od, I'll apply for three hundred!"

"Heaven bless you, my dear countrymen!" thought I, as I sallied forth

to refresh myself with a basin of soup, "do but maintain this liberal

and patriotic feeling--this thirst for national improvement, internal

communication, and premiums--a short while longer, and I know whose

fortune will be made."

On the following morning my breakfast-table was covered with shoals of

letters, from fellows whom I scarcely ever had spoken to--or who, to

use a franker phraseology, had scarcely ever condescended to speak to

me--entreating my influence as a director to obtain them shares in the

new undertaking. I never bore malice in my life, so I chalked them

down, without favouritism, for a certain proportion. Whilst engaged in

this charitable work, the door flew open, and M'Corkindale, looking

utterly haggard with excitement, rushed in.

"You may buy an estate whenever you please, Dunshunner," cried he,

"the world's gone perfectly mad. I have been to Blazes the broker, and

he tells me that the whole amount of the stock has been subscribed for

four times over already, and he has not yet got in the returns from

Edinburgh and Liverpool!"

"Are they good names though, Bob--sure cards--none of your M'Closkies

and M'Alcohols?"

"The first names in the city, I assure you, and most of them holders

for investment. I wouldn't take ten millions for their capital."

"Then the sooner we close the list the better."

"I think so too. I suspect a rival company will be out before long.

Blazes says the shares are selling already conditionally on allotment,

at seven and sixpence premium."

"The deuce they are! I say, Bob, since we have the cards in our hands,

would it not be wise to favour them with a few hundreds at that rate?

A bird in the hand, you know, is worth two in the bush, eh?"

"I know no such maxim in political economy," replied the secretary.

"Are you mad, Dunshunner? How are the shares ever to go up, if it gets

wind that the directors are selling already? Our business just now, is

to _bull_ the line, not to _bear_ it; and if you will trust me, I

shall show them such an operation on the ascending scale, as the Stock

Exchange has not witnessed for this long and many a-day. Then,

to-morrow, I shall advertise in the papers, that the committee having

received applications for ten times the amount of stock, have been

compelled, unwillingly, to close the lists. That will be a slap in the

face to the dilatory gentlemen, and send up the shares like wildfire."

Bob was right. No sooner did the advertisement appear, than a

simultaneous groan was uttered by some hundreds of disappointed

speculators, who with unwonted and unnecessary caution, had been

anxious to see their way a little, before committing themselves to our

splendid enterprise. In consequence, they rushed into the market, with

intense anxiety to make what terms they could at the earliest stage,

and the seven-and-sixpence of premium was doubled in the course of a

forenoon.

The allocation passed over very peaceably. Sawley, Heckles, Jobson,

Grabbie, and the Captain of M'Alcohol, besides myself, attended, and

took part in the business. We were also threatened with the presence

of the M'Closkie and Vich-Induibh; but M'Corkindale, entertaining some

reasonable doubts as to the effect which their corporeal appearance

might have upon the representatives of the dissenting interest, had

taken the precaution to get them snugly housed in a tavern, where an

unbounded supply of gratuitous Ferntosh deprived us of the benefit of

their experience. We, however, allotted them twenty shares a-piece.

Sir Polloxfen Tremens sent a handsome, though rather illegible letter

of apology, dated from an island in Lochlomond, where he was said to

be detained on particular business.

Mr Sawley, who officiated as our chairman, was kind enough, before

parting, to pass a very flattering eulogium upon the excellence and

candour of all the preliminary arrangements. It would now, he said, go

forth to the public that this line was not, like some others he could

mention, a mere bubble, emanating from the stank of private interest,

but a solid, lasting superstructure, based upon the principles of sound

return for capital, and serious evangelical truth, (hear, hear.) The

time was fast approaching, when the gravestone, with the words "HIC

OBIIT", chiselled upon it, would be placed at the head of all the other

lines which rejected the grand opportunity of conveying education to the

stoker. The stoker, in his (Mr Sawley's) opinion, had a right to ask the

all important question, "Am I not a man and a brother?" (Cheers.) Much

had been said and written lately about a work called _Tracts for the

Times_. With the opinions contained in that publication, he was not

conversant, as it was conducted by persons of another community from

that to which he (Mr Sawley) had the privilege to belong. But he hoped

very soon, under the auspices of the Glenmutchkin Railway Company, to

see a new periodical established, under the title of _Tracts for the

Trains_. He never for a moment would relax his efforts to knock a nail

into the coffin, which, he might say, was already made, and measured,

and cloth-covered for the reception of all establishments; and with

these sentiments and the conviction that the shares must rise, could it

be doubted that he would remain a fast friend to the interests of this

Company for ever? (Much cheering.)

After having delivered this address, Mr Sawley affectionately squeezed

the hands of his brother directors, and departed, leaving several of

us much overcome. As, however, M'Corkindale had told me that every one

of Sawley's shares had been disposed of in the market the day before,

I felt less compunction at having refused to allow that excellent man

an extra thousand beyond the amount he had applied for,

notwithstanding of his broadest hints, and even private entreaties.

"Confound the greedy hypocrite!" said Bob; "does he think we shall let

him Burke the line for nothing? No--no! let him go to the brokers and

buy his shares back, if he thinks they are likely to rise. I'll be

bound he has made a cool five hundred out of them already."

On the day which succeeded the allocation, the following entry

appeared in the Glasgow share lists. "Direct Glenmutchkin Railway.

15s. 15s.6d. 15s.6d. 16s. 15s.6d. 16s. 16s.6d. 16s.6d. 16s. 17s 18s.

18s. 19s.6d. 21s. 21s. 22s.6d. 24s. 25s. 6d. 27s. 29s. 29s.6d. 30s.

31s. pm."

"They might go higher, and they ought to go higher," said Bob

musingly; "but there's not much more stock to come and go upon, and

these two share-sharks, Jobson and Grabbie, I know, will be in the

market to-morrow. We must not let them have the whip-hand of us. I

think upon the whole, Dunshunner, though it's letting them go dog

cheap, that we ought to sell half our shares at the present premium,

whilst there is a certainty of getting it."

"Why not sell the whole? I'm sure I have no objections to part with

every stiver of the scrip on such terms."

"Perhaps," said Bob, "upon general principles you may be right; but

then remember that we have a vested interest in the line."

"Vested interest be hanged!"

"That's very well--at the same time it is no use to kill your salmon

in a hurry. The bulls have done their work pretty well for us, and we

ought to keep something on hand for the bears; they are snuffling at

it already. I could almost swear that some of those fellows who have

sold to-day are working for a time-bargain."

We accordingly got rid of a couple of thousand shares, the proceeds of

which not only enabled us to discharge the deposit loan, but left us a

material surplus. Under these circumstances, a two-handed banquet was

proposed and unanimously carried, the commencement of which I

distinctly remember, but am rather dubious as to the end. So many

stories have lately been circulated to the prejudice of railway

directors, that I think it my duty to state that this entertainment

was scrupulously defrayed by ourselves, and _not_ carried to account,

either of the preliminary survey, or the expenses of the provisional

committee.

Nothing effects so great a metamorphosis in the bearing of the outer

man, as a sudden change of fortune. The anemone of the garden differs

scarcely more from its unpretending prototype of the woods, than

Robert M'Corkindale, Esq., Secretary and Projector of the Glenmutchkin

Railway, differed from Bob M'Corkindale, the seedy frequenter of "The

Crow." In the days of yore, men eyed the surtout--napless at the

velvet collar, and preternaturally white at the seams--which Bob

vouchsafed to wear, with looks of dim suspicion, as if some faint

reminiscence, similar to that which is said to recall the memory of a

former state of existence, suggested to them a vision that the garment

had once been their own. Indeed, his whole appearance was then

wonderfully second-hand. Now he had cast his slough. A most undeniable

Taglioni, with trimmings just bordering upon frogs, gave dignity to

his demeanour and twofold amplitude to his chest. The horn eyeglass

was exchanged for one of purest gold, the dingy high-lows for

well-waxed Wellingtons, the Paisley fogle for the fabric of the China

loom. Moreover, he walked with a swagger, and affected in common

conversation a peculiar dialect which he opined to be the purest

English, but which no one--except a bagman--could be reasonably

expected to understand. His pockets were invariably crammed with share

lists; and he quoted, if he did not comprehend, the money article from

the _Times_. This sort of assumption, though very ludicrous in itself,

goes down wonderfully. Bob gradually became a sort of authority, and

his opinions got quoted on 'Change. He was no ass, notwithstanding his

peculiarities, and made good use of his opportunity.

For myself, I bore my new dignities with an air of modest meekness. A

certain degree of starchness is indispensable for a railway director,

if he means to go forward in his high calling and prosper; he must

abandon all juvenile eccentricities, and aim at the appearance of a

decided enemy to free trade in the article of Wild Oats. Accordingly,

as the first step towards respectability, I eschewed coloured

waistcoats, and gave out that I was a marrying man. No man under

forty, unless he is a positive idiot, will stand forth as a

theoretical bachelor. It is all nonsense to say that there is any

thing unpleasant in being courted. Attention, whether from male or

female, tickles the vanity, and although I have a reasonable, and, I

hope, not unwholesome regard, for the gratification of my other

appetites, I confess that this same vanity is by far the most poignant

of the whole. I therefore surrendered myself freely to the soft

allurements thrown in my way by such matronly denizens of Glasgow as

were possessed of stock in the shape of marriageable daughters; and

walked the more readily into their toils, because every party, though

nominally for the purposes of tea, wound up with a hot supper, and

something hotter still by way of assisting the digestion.

I don't know whether it was my determined conduct at the allocation,

my territorial title, or a most exaggerated idea of my circumstances,

that worked upon the mind of Mr Sawley. Possibly it was a combination

of the three; but sure enough few days had elapsed before I received a

formal card of invitation to a tea and serious conversation. Now

serious conversation is a sort of thing that I never shone in,

possibly because my early studies were framed in a different

direction; but as I really was unwilling to offend the respectable

coffin-maker, and as I found that the Captain of M'Alcohol--a decided

trump in his way--had also received a summons, I notified my

acceptance.

M'Alcohol and I went together. The Captain, an enormous brawny Celt,

with superhuman whiskers, and a shock of the fieriest hair, had figged

himself out, _more majorum_, in the full Highland costume. I never saw

Rob Roy on the stage look half so dignified or ferocious. He glittered

from head to foot, with dirk, pistol, and skean-dhu, and at least a

hundred-weight of cairngorums cast a prismatic glory around his

person. I felt quite abashed beside him.

We were ushered into Mr Sawley's drawing-room. Round the walls, and at

considerable distances from each other, were seated about a dozen

characters male and female, all of them dressed in sable, and wearing

countenances of woe. Sawley advanced, and wrung me by the hand with so

piteous an expression of visage, that I could not help thinking some

awful catastrophe had just befallen his family.

"You are welcome, Mr Dunshunner, welcome to my humble tabernacle. Let

me present you to Mrs Sawley"--and a lady, who seemed to have bathed

in the Yellow Sea, rose from her seat, and favoured me with a profound

curtsy.

"My daughter--Miss Selina Sawley."

I felt in my brain the scorching glance of the two darkest eyes it

ever was my fortune to behold, as the beauteous Selina looked up from

the perusal of her handkerchief hem. It was a pity that the other

features were not corresponding; for the nose was flat, and the mouth

of such dimensions, that a Harlequin might have jumped down it with

impunity--but the eyes _were_ splendid.

In obedience to a sign from the hostess, I sank into a chair beside

Selina; and not knowing exactly what to say, hazarded some observation

about the weather.

"Yes, it is indeed a suggestive season. How deeply, Mr Dunshunner, we

ought to feel the pensive progress of autumn towards a soft and

premature decay! I always think, about this time of the year, that

nature is falling into a consumption!"

"To be sure, ma'am," said I, rather taken aback by this style of

colloquy "the trees are looking devilishly hectic."

"Ah, you have remarked that too! Strange! it was but yesterday that I

was wandering through Kelvin Grove, and as the phantom breeze brought

down the withered foliage from the spray, I thought, how probable it

was, that they might erelong rustle over young and glowing hearts

deposited prematurely in the tomb!"

This, which struck me as a very passable imitation of Dickens's

pathetic writings, was a poser. In default of language, I looked Miss

Sawley straight in the face, and attempted a substitute for a sigh. I

was rewarded with a tender glance.

"Ah!" said she, "I see you are a congenial spirit. How delightful, and

yet how rare it is to meet with any one who thinks in unison with

yourself! Do you ever walk in the Necropolis, Mr Dunshunner? It is my

favourite haunt of a morning. There we can wean ourselves, as it were,

from life, and, beneath the melancholy yew and cypress, anticipate the

setting star. How often there have I seen the procession--the funeral

of some very, _very_ little child"----

"Selina, my love," said Mrs Sawley, "have the kindness to ring for the

cookies."

I, as in duty bound, started up to save the fair enthusiast the

trouble, and was not sorry to observe my seat immediately occupied by

a very cadaverous gentleman, who was evidently jealous of the progress

I was rapidly making. Sawley, with an air of great mystery, informed

me that this was a Mr Dalgleish of Raxmathrapple, the representative

of an ancient Scottish family who claimed an important heritable

office. The name, I thought, was familiar to me, but there was

something in the appearance of Mr Dalgleish which, notwithstanding the

smiles of Miss Selina, rendered a rivalship in that quarter utterly

out of the question.

I hate injustice, so let me do due honour in description to the Sawley

banquet. The tea-urn most literally corresponded to its name. The

table was decked out with divers platters, containing seed-cakes cut

into rhomboids, almond biscuits, and ratafia drops; but somehow or

other they all looked clammy and damp, and, for the life of me, I

could not divest myself of the idea that the selfsame viands had

figured, not long before, as funeral refreshments at a dirgie. No such

suspicion seemed to cross the mind of M'Alcohol, who hitherto had

remained uneasily surveying his nails in a corner, but at the first

symptom of food started forwards, and was in the act of making a clean

sweep of the china, when Sawley proposed the singular preliminary of a

hymn.

The hymn was accordingly sung. I am thankful to say it was such a one

as I never heard before, or expect to hear again; and unless it was

composed by the Reverend Saunders Peden in an hour of paroxysm on the

moors, I cannot conjecture the author. After this original symphony,

tea was discussed, and after tea, to my amazement, more hot brandy and

water than I ever remember to have seen circulated at the most

convivial party. Of course this effected a radical change in the

spirits and conversation of the circle. It was again my lot to be

placed by the side of the fascinating Selina, whose sentimentality

gradually thawed away beneath the influence of sundry sips, which she

accepted with a delicate reluctance. This time Dalgleish of

Raxmathrapple had not the remotest chance. M'Alcohol got furious, sang

Gaelic songs, and even delivered a sermon in genuine Erse, without

incurring a rebuke; whilst, for my own part, I must needs confess that

I waxed unnecessarily amorous, and the last thing I recollect was the

pressure of Mr Sawley's hand at the door, as he denominated me his

dear boy, and hoped I would soon come back and visit Mrs Sawley and

Selina. The recollection of these passages next morning was the surest

antidote to my return.

Three weeks had elapsed, and still the Glenmutchkin Railway shares

were at a premium, though rather lower than when we sold. Our

engineer, Watty Solder, returned from his first survey of the line,

along with an assistant who really appeared to have some remote

glimmerings of the science and practice of mensuration. It seemed,

from a verbal report, that the line was actually practicable; and the

survey would have been completed in a very short time--"If," according

to the account of Solder, "there had been ae hoos in the glen. But

ever sin' the distillery stoppit--and that was twa year last

Martinmas--there wasna a hole whaur a Christian could lay his head,

muckle less get white sugar to his toddy, forbye the change-house at

the clachan; and the auld luckie that keepit it was sair forfochten

wi' the palsy, and maist in the dead-thraws. There was naebody else

living within twal miles o' the line, barring a tacksman, a lamiter,

and a bauldie."

We had some difficulty in preventing Mr Solder from making this report

open and patent to the public, which premature disclosure might have

interfered materially with the preparation of our traffic tables, not

to mention the marketable value of the shares. We therefore kept him

steadily at work out of Glasgow, upon a very liberal allowance, to

which, apparently, he did not object.

"Dunshunner," said M'Corkindale to me one day, "I suspect that there

is something going on about our railway more than we are aware of.

Have you observed that the shares are preternaturally high just now?"

"So much the better. Let's sell."

"I did so this morning--both yours and mine, at two pounds ten

shillings premium."

"The deuce you did! Then we're out of the whole concern."

"Not quite. If my suspicions are correct, there's a good deal more

money yet to be got from the speculation. Somebody has been bulling

the stock without orders; and, as they can have no information which

we are not perfectly up to, depend upon it, it is done for a purpose.

I suspect Sawley and his friends. They have never been quite happy

since the allocation; and I caught him yesterday pumping our broker in

the back shop. We'll see in a day or two. If they are beginning a

bearing operation, I know how to catch them."

And, in effect, the bearing operation commenced. Next day, heavy sales

were effected for delivery in three weeks; and the stock, as if

water-logged, began to sink. The same thing continued for the

following two days, until the premium became nearly nominal. In the

mean time, Bob and I, in conjunction with two leading capitalists

whom we let into the secret, bought up steadily every share that was

offered; and at the end of a fortnight we found that we had purchased

rather more than double the amount of the whole original stock. Sawley

and his disciples, who, as M'Corkindale suspected, were at the bottom

of the whole transaction, having beared to their heart's content, now

came into the market to purchase, in order to redeem their

engagements. The following extract from the weekly share-lists will

show the result of their endeavours to regain their lost position:--

Sat. Mon. Tues. Wed. Thurs.

Glenmutchkin Rail, L.1 paid,. 1 2/8 | 2 1/4 | 4 3/8 | 7 1/2 | 10 3/4

Frid. Sat.

15 3/8 | 17,

and Monday was the day of delivery.

I have no means of knowing in what frame of mind Mr Sawley spent the

Sunday, or whether he had recourse for mental consolation to Peden;

but on Monday morning he presented himself at my door in full funeral

costume, with about a quarter of a mile of crape swathed round his

hat, black gloves, and a countenance infinitely more doleful than if

he had been attending the interment of his beloved wife.

"Walk in, Mr Sawley," said I cheerfully. "What a long time it is since

I have had the pleasure of seeing you--too long indeed for brother

directors. How are Mrs Sawley and Miss Selina--won't you take a cup of

coffee?"

"Grass, sir, grass!" said Mr Sawley, with a sigh like the groan of a

furnace-bellows. "We are all flowers of the oven--weak, erring

creatures, every one of us. Ah! Mr Dunshunner! you have been a great

stranger at Lykewake Terrace!"

"Take a muffin, Mr Sawley. Any thing new in the railway world?"

"Ah, my dear sir--my good Mr Augustus Reginald--I wanted to have some

serious conversation with you on that very point. I am afraid there is

something far wrong indeed in the present state of our stock."

"Why, to be sure it is high; but that, you know, is a token of the

public confidence in the line. After all, the rise is nothing compared

to that of several English railways; and individually, I suppose,

neither of us have any reason to complain."

"I don't like it," said Sawley, watching me over the margin of his

coffee-cup. "I don't like it. It savours too much of gambling for a

man of my habits. Selina, who is a sensible girl, has serious qualms

on the subject."

"Then, why not get out of it? I have no objection to run the risk,

and, if you like to transact with me I will pay you ready money for

every share you have at the present market price."

Sawley writhed uneasily in his chair.

"Will you sell me five hundred, Mr Sawley? Say the word and it is a

bargain."

"A time bargain?" quavered the coffin-maker.

"No. Money down, and scrip handed over."

"I--I can't. The fact is, my dear young friend, I have sold all my

stock already!"

"Then permit me to ask, Mr Sawley, what possible objection you can

have to the present aspect of affairs? You do not surely suppose that

we are going to issue new shares and bring down the market, simply

because you have realized at a handsome premium?"

"A handsome premium! O Lord!" moaned Sawley.

"Why, what did you get for them?"

"Four, three, and two and a half."

"A very considerable profit indeed," said I; "and you ought to be

abundantly thankful. We shall talk this matter over at another time,

Mr Sawley, but just now I must beg you to excuse me. I have a

particular engagement this morning with my broker--rather a heavy

transaction to settle--and so"----

"It's no use beating about the bush any longer," said Mr Sawley in an

excited tone, at the same time dashing down his crape-covered castor

on the floor. "Did you ever see a ruined man with a large family? Look

at me, Mr Dunshunner--I'm one, and you've done it!"

"Mr Sawley! are you in your senses?"

"That depends on circumstances. Haven't you been buying stock lately?"

"I am glad to say I have--two thousand Glenmutchkins, I think, and

this is the day of delivery."

"Well, then--can't you see how the matter stands? It was I who sold

them!"

"Well!"

"Mother of Moses, sir! don't you see I'm ruined?

"By no means--but you must not swear. I pay over the money for your

scrip, and you pocket a premium. It seems to me a very simple

transaction."

"But I tell you I haven't got the scrip!" cried Sawley, gnashing his

teeth, whilst the cold beads of perspiration gathered largely on his

brow.

"That is very unfortunate! Have you lost it?"

"No!--the devil tempted me, and I oversold!"

There was a very long pause, during which I assumed an aspect of

serious and dignified rebuke.

"Is it possible?" said I in a low tone, after the manner of Kean's

offended fathers. "What! you, Mr Sawley--the stoker's friend--the

enemy of gambling--the father of Selina--condescend to so equivocal a

transaction? You amaze me! But I never was the man to press heavily on

a friend"--here Sawley brightened up--"your secret is safe with me,

and it shall be your own fault if it reaches the ears of the Session.

Pay me over the difference at the present market price, and I release

you of your obligation."

"Then I'm in the Gazette, that's all," said Sawley doggedly, "and a

wife and nine beautiful babes upon the parish! I had hoped other

things from you, Mr Dunshunner--I thought you and Selina"----

"Nonsense, man! Nobody goes into the Gazette just now--it will be time

enough when the general crash comes. Out with your checque-book, and

write me an order for four-and-twenty thousand. Confound fractions! in

these days one can afford to be liberal."

"I haven't got it," said Sawley. "You have no idea how bad our trade

has been of late, for nobody seems to think of dying. I have not sold

a gross of coffins this fortnight. But I'll tell what--I'll give you

five thousand down in cash, and ten thousand in shares--further I

can't go."

"Now, Mr Sawley'," said I, "I may be blamed by worldly-minded persons

for what I am going to do; but I am a man of principle, and feel

deeply for the situation of your amiable wife and family. I bear no

malice, though it is quite clear that you intended to make me the

sufferer. Pay me fifteen thousand over the counter, and we cry quits

for ever."

"Won't you take Camlachie Cemetery shares? They are sure to go up."

"No."

"Twelve hundred Cowcaddens' Water, with an issue of new stock next

week?"

"Not if they disseminated the Ganges."

"A thousand Ramshorn Gas--four per cent guaranteed until the act?"

"Not if they promised twenty, and melted down the sun in their

retort!"

"Blawweary Iron? Best spec. going."

"No, I tell you once for all. If you don't like my offer--and it is an

uncommonly liberal one--say so, and I'll expose you this afternoon

upon 'Change."

"Well, then--there's a checque. But may the"----

"Stop, sir! Any such profane expressions, and I shall insist upon the

original bargain. So, then--now we're quits. I wish you a very

good-morning, Mr Sawley, and better luck next time. Pray remember me

to your amiable family."

The door had hardly closed upon the discomfited coffin-maker, and I

was still in the preliminary steps of an extempore _pas seul_,

intended as the outward demonstration of exceeding inward joy, when

Bob M'Corkindale entered. I told him the result of the morning's

conference.

"You have let him off too easily," said the Political Economist. "Had

I been his creditor, I certainly should have sacked the shares into

the bargain. There is nothing like rigid dealing between man and man."

"I am contented with moderate profits," said I; "besides, the image

of Selina overcame me. How goes it with Jobson and Grabbie?"