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Code. The “Calvinistic formulæ” of Scotland, embrace, is clearly intelligible and has been often like its judaical Sabbatarianism, may be “ simply exhibited in our time. It is not necessary on this a form of Protestant tradition founded neither on account to say that Tractarian Catholicism has the Word of God nor on the general consent of prepared the way for Rome. This is the lanChristendom";* but if so, the Augustinian for- guage of controversial politics and not of historimula and the theology of the Seventeenth Arti- cal induction. But to say that the evangelical cle are no better. Whether well or ill founded scheme must share the blame of any transition is no matter for the present purpose, save as to Rome because the buddings of a religious life showing how Mr. Gladstone's school theology which may have ended there were “in form and has blinded him to those deeper affinities of color evangelical,” is the obvious language of thought and history which a mind like Macau- paradox. Every system must be judged by its lay's, with less depth but more openness and own natural fruits, and not by the accidents breadth, readily perceived.
which may have attended it. And it remains Again, when our essayist recognizes in the beyond doubt that the principles of the evangeliEvangelical movement not merely a precursor cal theory are radically at variance with those of but a cause of Tractarianism, he is misled by the the Roman system, with which, on the contrary, same imperfect insight into the meaning of the the principles of Anglo-Catholicism have a cerphenomena before him. It is possibly true that tain affinity. Romanism is not an illogical desome of the most ardent leaders of the new velopment of the one. It is the antithesis of the movement came from evangelical families, and other; and the evangelical scheme, although it had tasted of the excitements of evangelical may have nursed for a time men who afterward teaching. But this is little to the point. It became Romanists, is no more responsible for merely shows, as pointed out elsewhere,+ " that such a result-even at second hand-than Mr. a religious movement naturally recruits itself from Gladstone himself, according to Mr. Lecky's comthose who are interested in religious matters, and parison, can be held responsible for the excesses therefore specially susceptible to any fresh spirit- of our present foreign policy, because his accenual impulse.” Such minds most readily catch tuated Liberalism may have produced, by way of the contagious force of a new excitement. But reaction, the present Tory Government.* this proves nothing of casual relation between But we must draw this paper to a close with the movements. The receding tide of evangelical a special glance at Mr. Gladstone's literary style. fervor was caught by the rising tide of Anglo- Such quotations as we have made give, upon the Catholicism, and activities which might have whole, a fair idea of it. It is powerful, flexible, gone in the one direction were turned in the and elaborately if not gracefully expressive. It other. But the two tides ran from wholly differ- has all the vigor and swell of the substance of ent sources, and have never coalesced save in his thought. But, just as he often seems to be this accidental manner. Both have their source thinking on his legs and casting forth in an imin deep-seated principles which the Church of petuous cataract the current of his ideas, so does England has been comprehensive enough from his style move with uneasy, and swaying, and the first to inclose within her bosom. The Cal- often too vehement force-a force always more vinism which Mr. Gladstone can not see in the or less rhetorical, often pictured and eloquent, Articles, but which has powerfully moved Angli- but sometimes singularly clumsy, and seldom can Christianity at more than one period of its facile or delicate. Yet he surprises the reader history, is the natural congener of the one; the at times by a happy figure, touched lightly and Catholicism so dear to him, and no less an in- beautifully, as when he says of the confidential herited and active religious power in England, is outpourings of Bishop Patteson, in his letters to the true parent of the other. They have each his sister at home, that they were “like flowers “their standing-points in the formularies, the- caught in their freshness, and perfectly preserved ology, and historical traditions” of the Church, in color and in form.” but they are essentially and radically opposed in We confess to having formed a higher idea theory. The one aims to Protestantize, the other than we had of Mr. Gladstone's powers as a mere to Catholicize. The one looks upon Rome as the writer by an attentive perusal of these “Glean“ mother of abomination"; the other regards her ings.” The first impression one gets of his style as a true, if fallen, parent. The process by which is disappointing. It looks fatiguing. It does not in the one case the ancient mother becomes once invite, nor does it readily lead, the reader along, more glorified, and the Anglo-Catholic passes even when he has yielded to the impulse and felt from wistful longing into believing and hopeful the fascination of a strong mind. But at last it
- lays hold of the attention. We are caught in its * Vol. ii., p. 360, “ Dr. Norman Macleod." † " Nineteenth Century," August, 1879, p. 287.
* " Nineteenth Century," August, 1879, p. 289.
sweep and made to feel that we are in the hands convicted minds and perfunctory performers of a of a master who knows his subject and will not measure of stipulated duty, who supplied so conlet us go till he has brought us to some share of siderable a number of the clerical host." his own knowledge. We may feel not unfre- But, even if such sentences were more comquently that he is far more subtile than true, more mon, they are but blemishes in an intellectual ingenious in theory than penetrating in insight, feast; and, if we are to estimate writing not more intent on making out a case than in going merely by the momentary pleasure it gives, but to the root of a difficulty; that he is conventional by the elevation and moral as well as mental rather than critical, and traditional where he stimulus it imparts, we must attach a high value ought to be historical; still, there is the glow of to many of Mr. Gladstone's essays. It would an intense genius everywhere, and the splendor be difficult to say how far they may survive as of a rhetoric which often rises into passion and monuments of his literary genius. They are never degenerates into meanness. Clumsy his more likely to do so, we believe, than his Hostyle certainly can be at times, in an extraordi- meric speculations, labors of love and special nary degree, as in such a sentence as the follow- knowledge as these are. But, whatever may be ing, speaking of the evangelical clergy and the their fate, they are remarkable and marvelously estimate to be formed of their activity and moral interesting as products of literary devotion and influence: “The vessels of zeal and fervor, taken ambition in a mind of intense activity, amid the man by man, far outweighed the heroes of the pauses of a great public career. ballroom and the hunting-field, or the most half
THE SE A MY SIDE.
BY WALTER BESANT AND JAMES RICE.
“Pooh !” said Stephen. “What had she CHAPTER XXIV.
got to tell? I say there never was any mar
riage.” HOW STEPHEN SENT AN AMBASSADOR. “I say that possibly there was. How about
false names ? It's always the old women one ONE evening, Stephen met Jack Baker, which has got to fear most. One must trust them;
was not unusual, at the club. They dined they know everything; they make up what they together. Jack's manner was mysterious. He are not told ; they never die, and they turn up at whispered that he had something to communi- the wrong moment, just when they are not wantcate after dinner. He hurried through the meal ed, and let it all out. Hamblin, I wish I hadn't with a haste quite unusual with him, and, as stood in with you." soon as possible, led Stephen into a little room, “Hang it, man ! you are not afraid of your never used till much later in the evening, called paltry thousand, are you?” the strangers' card-room.
“Well, if you come to that, a thousand is a "Sit down, Hamblin."
thousand, and it takes a mighty long time to " What the deuce is the meaning of all this make it.” mystery, Jack?”
“And you stand to win a thousand.” “This. They've found something."
“I want to know what this old woman had “What do you mean?"
to tell," Jack Baker went on doggedly. Stephen turned pale.
. “Man alive! Let the old woman go to the “ You know they have been advertising and devil.” offering rewards ? Very well, then. Something But Stephen's cheek continued pale. He was has come out of it. A clerk of mine knows a not easy about that old woman. Had the men clerk in Hamblin's. The clerks there are tre- known that she was plain Mrs. Duncombe, once mendously excited about the business. My man nurse to Alison, their apprehensions would have is to learn whatever goes on. He reports to-day been calmed. that an old woman called and sent up her name “Look here, old man,” said Jack, “let us in an envelope, saying she had come in answer smooth matters a bit. Why not make it a to an advertisement.'
friendly suit ? Hang it! if I had a month's VOL. VIII.-4
start, I would prove a marriage somehow, if it'made me assume, apparently, an attitude of was only a Scotch marriage."
hostility.'" “Too late, Jack,” said Stephen. “We have “Think so ? Yes. Perhaps that will be had one row. I got into a rage, and so did she. better." Stephen made the correction in penShe's got a temper like mine-got it from her cil. “. Made me assume an apparent attitude grandmother. These things very often pass of hostility. Nothing really was further from over part of a generation. The temper passed my thoughts, my wish, or my intention. Will over her father. She reminded me of my mother. you do me the justice of believing that I, for my Gad! what blazing rows we used to have in the own part, am most anxious, most desirous, to do old days !”
my utmost to prove the truth, that you may rely “Come, Hamblin. I will make a little com- upon my most sincere coöperation in any serious promise with you. Make it up, if you can, with effort to ascertain the truth ; and that, in the the girl. If things go against you, you can then discovery of any fact which may convince me, get my thousand out of her, with whatever you yourself, and our cousins of your title to the eswant for yourself. Your own affairs may be tate, I am ready to withdraw my claim at once? straighter then, no doubt.”
I beg you to believe that I should refuse to take “Oh, my own affairs-yes-yes. They are any advantage of legal technicalities. At the pulling round,” said Stephen, forcing a smile. same time, in justice to my own birth, to my po
“ Very well, then. If the thing goes in your sition, to my brother's position, I ask that the favor, you can let all the world see what a mag- truth should be fairly and fearlessly investigated. nanimous creature you've been. Don't you see? The future of the Hamblin House must not be If the worst happens, you can always reckon on open to the questions or the doubts of any who getting a slice of the cake ; if the best, then it wish to throw a stone, or cast a slur. I am will be all in your own hands, to do what you aware, very sorrowfully I own it, that the investiplease with."
gation which I ask-it is all I ask-may possibly “I think you are right,” said Stephen, with prove disastrous to yourself. At all events, you an effort. “I am sure you are right, Jack. I are a Hamblin. You would not wish to be rich ought never to have quarreled with the little at the expense of others, whose rights you were spitfire, but she would have it. We always did usurping ? hate each other, you know. I wonder if she “For the moment, I think I had better not ever suspected what I knew? Perhaps she did. attempt to see you. I send you this letter by the Girls are more crafty than any one who doesn't hand of a personal friend, Mr. Bunter Baker.'” know the nature of women would believe possi- “Hallo!" cried Jack; “I say, you don't mean ble.”
me to take it?" He got up and found writing materials.
“Who will be able, I trust,'" Stephen read “I suppose it will be better to write to her on quickly, “'to persuade you, as I, with my than to call upon her. Yes, certainly better. I unhappy impetuosity, am unable to do, that I am used to be able to pitch a very decent letter in a friend and not an enemy, that I am most anxthe old days. Let me try my hand again." ious not to be regarded as an enemy. Sooner
This letter took him some time to write. He or later, this question, which in everybody's wrote it, in fact, at least three times, and even mind-'" then he was not satisfied with it. At last he “I say," said Jack, “ I suppose it isn't, realbrought the third draft to his friend, and sub- ly?" mitted it for consideration.
“No," replied Stephen; “I don't suppose “ Listen, Jack,” he said. “I think this will anybody outside the Hamblin lot troubles his do as well as a longer letter. Of course, we head about it. But, you see, it has been very shall keep a copy, and send one to the cousins. much in my head, which is the great thing.
Where are we?—'everybody's mind must have "MY DEAR ALISON: I have for some time been raised. Was it not better that it should be been trying to write to you. The memory of raised by myself, in a spirit of inquiry, without hard words, and, perhaps, bitter thoughts, on animosity, or would you have preferred that it one or the other side, has hitherto prevented me. should be raised later on, perhaps when your I have no desire to excuse myself. In fact, I children's fortunes might be blighted and their can find no excuse. My unfortunate temper pride brought low ?'” alone is to blame. To that, and to that alone, “That's devilish good,” said Jack. I would ascribe the misfortune that I have been “Yes; I think I can manage the palter on made to appear to you in a light of hostil- occasion," said Stephen. “Well— You will be ity-''
told, perhaps, that my action in the case was “Don't like that,” said Jack slowly; “say dictated by a selfish desire to obtain, wrongfully, your inheritance. Alison, solemnly, that is not saying, or generous emprise, naturally found the case. It is quite the contrary. My first employment in the invention of new braveries. thought was in your interest, my first action was He was still, though now past thirty, on that for your safety. You have to thank your friends, level of civilization where men take the same my cousins, and no others, for the turn that has view of maidens as the peacock takes of the peabeen given to the thing. Read this carefully, hens, and imagine that, by spreading gorgeous and, if you find any point or points of objection, plumage, and strutting with braggart air, they do not be satisfied with the counsel of your pres- can awaken the admiration of the weaker sex. ent advisers, but have the courage and the confi- He expected to be received by a small, timid dence to ask explanations of me,
girl, who might possibly show temper, but who “• Your affectionate uncle,
would begin, at least, by being enormously afraid “STEPHEN HAMBLIN.' of him. This was unfortunate at the outset. He
was unprepared, too, for the magnificence of the “And, anyhow, it will show it is an act of house, which surpassed anything of which he had kindness on my part. They will think I am not ever dreamed. The private houses of rich men afraid. For that matter,” he added, with a dash and gentlemen were not, as a rule, thrown open of gasconade, “I am not the least afraid. Let to this successful speculator in silk. A club them do their level worst."
drawing-room was Jack's most exalted idea of a “ Level worst !” To bid a man do that is to well-furnished apartment. throw the glove in earnest, and to throw it with He was shown into the study, whither in a the superiority of the better position. Jack Baker few moments Alison came to him. And then felt it. He was going as ambassador into the Jack's cheek paled, and his heart sank, for, inenemy's camp, not with the sneaking conscious- stead of the insignificant and spiteful little animal ness of defeat, but in the proud position of one he had dreamed of, the poor creature whom who holds an olive-branch in one hand, and with Stephen Hamblin generally spoke of as “that the other invites the enemy to do his level worst. little devil,” there stood before him a young lady, He forgot, for the moment, the mysterious old whose beauty, dignity, and self-possession overwoman whose visit had disquieted him, and he whelmed him and crushed him. only saw himself clothed in the grandeur of a She bowed and looked again at the card : plenipotentiary, dictating terms to a sulky and “Mr. J. Bunter Baker." It is the day of double plain young woman, easily reduced to reason, names. Smith is nothing unless he is differenand open, like most of her sex, to the influences tiated by a prænomen other than the Christian of terror, respect, and awe, which are induced by name. Jones belongs to the Porkington Joneses. the voice, and the presence, and the majesty of a Jack Baker, as we have seen already, on arriving Man!
at success, remembered that he, too, had a secIn fact, Jack Baker, armed with this letter, ond name, given him by his godfather, a most did pay that visit the very next day. He went respectable clerk in a wholesale tea-warehouse. to Clapham Common in his own private hansom, Mr. Bunter was now no more, but his name hoping devoutly that Miss Hamblin might be served to give his godson additional importance, sitting at the window when he drove to the door. and in his own eyes, at least, to elevate him in Of course his horse was showy, and his tiger the social scale. small. Of course, too, he was attired with the “Mr. J. Bunter Baker,'" she repeated. greatest magnificence permitted to City men by "I-I am Mr. Bunter Baker,” he replied. a very liberal fashion. No young fellow had Here he was so unlucky as to drop his hat, more gold about him; no one wore better gloves; which, on recovering, he placed on the table. no one was more daring in the matter of neck- “May I ask, Mr. Baker," she went on, “what ties; no one more shiny of hat, neat of boot, or is the meaning of your visit ?”. original in waistcoat. To men of this generation “I come,” he replied, “ with a letter to you very few things are permitted in dress compared from Mr. Stephen Hamblin.” with what young men used to be allowed in the “My uncle can have nothing to write to me,” good old days when ribbons, lace, gorgeous doub- said Alison, “ that I would wish to hear. I can lets, slashed sleeves, pearl-embroidered pourpoint, not receive any communications from him. Is silk stockings, sword-belt, sash, diamond buckles, that all you have to say to me?" . and red-heeled shoes set off to advantage a young Jack Baker began to wish he had not confellow who could boast a reasonably fine figure sented to act as ambassador. But he plucked up and shapely leg. Yet the present fashion allows courage. something for the imagination to work upon; “My friend, Miss Hamblin," he said, “who is and the imagination of Jack Baker, which was a gentleman of extraordinarily sensitive nature, not occupied with thoughts of heroic deed, brave as perhaps you know, has been rendered exter."
tremely unhappy by the position in which he finds hope is, that I may never again see him, never himself unavoidably placed toward you."
again speak to him.” “Why,” cried Alison, “ he has deliberately in- “Now, that's very hard,” said Jack. “And sulted the memory and character of my father. what is the good of standing in your own light? Unavoidably?”
Why, I look on this letter-though he didn't say “There were reasons, Miss Hamblin," Jack so, mind, and it's entirely between you and me, went on, trying to speak grandly, “why he was and not to go any further”-he really, Alison bound to go on against his wish. Had his cous- thought, was a most vulgar young man—"as the ins listened to him at the outset there would have foundation of a friendly arrangement." been, probably, no publicity-no litigation.”
“I will consent to no friendly arrangement." “I know nothing of any motives," said Ali- “We will suppose, for a moment,” continued son; "I judge only by his actions. My uncle is Jack, gradually feeling his way, " that my friend my enemy. I want to have no communication Mr. Stephen Hamblin is anxious to put an end of any kind with him. I mistrust him, and I sus- to this unnatural contest between two very near pect him.”
relations.” “At least you will read his letter.” Jack “ It is very easy for him to put an end to it,” produced it, and tendered it with a winning smile, said Alison; " he has only to withdraw his preBut Alison was very far from thinking of his tensions. He has only to cease insulting my famanner of smiling. “Do not let me go away ther's memory." and tell my friend, Mr. Stephen Hamblin, that “Pardon me. That is not at all his intention you refused to receive a letter from him, even or his object. You are a lady, Miss Hamblin, after I told you that it was conciliatory."
and you do not feel, as men do, the necessity of • “Conciliatory!" she echoed, " as if I did not securing for every man his right. Prove your well to be angry. Well, sir, I will read your let- right, and Stephen Hamblin retires. Until you
do, he is the heir at law. But-he raised his She took it, and sat down without inviting her finger, for Alison was going to burst in with an visitor to take a chair, which was rude. Jack, indignant denial—"suppose that he was to meet therefore, remained standing. He felt conscious you half way. Suppose that he was ready to that he was not looking to advantage. To stand say : •Let us arrange this dispute. Let your without your hat in your hands, without the aid friends agree upon a present settlement for you. even of an umbrella or walking-stick, before a Let me succeed without opposition: I shall not lady, while she reads a letter, makes one feel like marry; you will be my sole heiress. Now, could a schoolboy about to say a lesson which he does anything be more agreeable and comfortable for not know.
all parties ? " “He offers,” said Alison, “to withdraw his Alison rose. claim as soon as anything has been discovered “This is quite idle,” she said grandly; "I which will convince him that he is wrong. That will make no such arrangement.” is very noble in him, considering that we shall Jack Baker confessed to himself on the spot force him to withdraw as soon as that has been that all his previously conceived ideas of feminine discovered. Why did he write me this letter, beauty would have to be modified. He had never sir ? You say you are his friend. Have you seen seen any one at all comparable with this magnifithe letter?"
cently beautiful creature on the stage, which, in “I have; I think it is a most friendly letter. common with many young City men, he confiNothing could be more so, I am sure ; most cred- dently believed to be the natural home and haritable to the writer.”
bor of the highest types of English beauty; nor “Thank you. Why did he write it?" behind the bar, where those fair ones who can
“Pure good feeling,” said Jack. “He is a not play burlesques delight to display their loveman of wonderful good feeling ; that, when you liness for all to behold who possess the "price of come to think of it, is his strong point.”
half a pint." Nor could any music-hall in Lon"Why did he write it?" asked Alison again, don show such a face, such deep black eyes, such but this time of herself ; “what does he expect splendid black hair, such lips, such a warm, rosy to get by writing it?"
cheek, such a figure. It was a new lesson for “What can he get?" said the ambassador him; he felt an unaccustomed glow about the craftily. “He knows very well that the estate is pericardium ; a yearning all over; a consciousas good as his own already. He wants to make ness of higher things than he had as yet imfriends with you."
agined ; a sudden weariness of Topsy and Lottie “I am much obliged to him," replied Alison ; and their drink-dispensing friends : he choked; "I can never be friends with him. He is, and he blushed; he stammered; he was penetrated will always be, my most bitter enemy. My only with the majesty of a beauty far beyond his