principal floor himself. A quantity of little | the greatest ease; as to a profession, his fapaper volumes of French romances, and a ther had no profession, and he himself deguitar, half-buried in sheets of music -some sired nothing of the kind. He loved every of it new, and some tattered and soiled and inch of Torrieburn too well to go about the scribbled over were the only symptoms world like the Wandering Jew, as he considof occupation, if we except two or three ered Sir Douglas had done all his life, for no handsome pipes and an open box of cigars. earthly reason. He had never asked, or "He is yet but young;" and "Did I do wished, to come abroad, but since he had right in sending him abroad?" was doubt- come (by Sir Douglas's desire), he was deterfully repeated in the mind of the perplexed mined to enjoy himself, and no earthly power uncle: not without a sorrowful conscious- should prevent him from doing so. As to the ness that his own youth, and his own resi- accusation of drunkenness, it was not true; dence in various foreign countries, had and if he did occasionally get drunk, so did all been very differently spent, though he had the men he had ever known, either at colhad no friend or counsellor to guide and lege or since; and as to other temptations, overlook him. he had infinitely greater temptations than other people, being handsomer, quicker-witted, and more fitted for social enjoyment than ninety-nine men in a hundred; so that though it was all very well for commonplace fellows to be tied down to commonplace rules, it wouldn't do for him, and he thought his uncle mad to expect it! Finally, with a saucy toss of his handsome young head, and a look of defiance at land and sea, as he turned from the open window and dropped into one of the lounging armchairs preparatory to beginning his late breakfast, he advised Old Sir Douglas not to get into "that humbugging way of lecturing" that comes upon men in later life, but to remember the days when he himself was young; when, doubtless, he indulged to the full in all that early harvest of fleeting pleasures of which he was now seeking to deprive his ill-used nephew. Absorbed in these reflections-looking out on the bright bay without seeing it, and scarcely conscious even of the shrill sound of multitudinous voices and ceaseless roll of vehicles in the streets below-it was not till young Kenneth laid a hand on his shoulder and greeted him with a sort of tired good-morrow, that Sir Douglas was even aware of his presence. Then the imprudent uncle plunged at once into all he had been ruminating over; all he had to say to the erring nephew. Warmly and rapidly he spoke; of Kenneth's extravagance, his drunkenness, his idleness, his debts; of the absolute necessity of his instantly selecting a profession, whether army, navy, law, or diplomacy; of the journey to Naples having been made in fear and trouble solely on his account (with a frank admission that Lorimer Boyd's friendly report had brought about that journey); of the determination Sir Douglas had come to, to tighten the reins, and so prevent the self-indulgent ruin of the young man who stood before him! A man who rises after a late ball, and is thus suddenly set upon before he has even breakfasted, is not likely to be very patient; nor did either of the interlocutors come of a patient race. Kenneth's answers were full of that blind and boundless ingratitude which belongs to early youth. He refused to recognize in anything that had been done for him anything for which he had to be grateful; he utterly defied all authority; he could not see how Sir Douglas could assume to exercise any. He (Kenneth) was Ross of Torrieburn, and Sir Douglas was Ross of Glenrossie, a richer man, that was all. Lorimer Boyd was an intolerable prig, and a meddlesome, treacherous idiot; and he (Kenneth) well knew to what cause he might attribute his uncalled-for interference. He had little doubt (unless Sir Douglas had greatly mismanaged during his long minority), that his debts could be paid with Sir Douglas almost prefaced with an impatient groan the burst of passionate reply with which he met this tirade. "In the first place," he said, "if I had made debts my father would not have cleared them, even had they been reckoned by hundreds instead of thousands, as I fear yours will be. In the next place, I had a profession in which, whatever may be your opinion of its oppor tunities for pleasure strict discipline, and the conduct of a gentleman, are imperative even in time of peace; and I am thankful to say that of those leisure times I saw but little." A proud, evanescent flush passed over the fine frank face, as he spoke; and then he continued eagerly and sadly: "Oh! my dear Kenneth do think there is something more to be done with life than merely to enjoy it! And, for God's sake, don't take the tone you have just taken with me, of that morbid selfish individuality that supposes its own temptations or advantages greater than those of other people! Take your place freely and frankly amongst them without expecting too much, or thinking with. I say must, because it is utterly imtoo highly of yourself, or offending by as- possible that any man should always be the sumptions that they won't recognize, and first, foremost, and best, of every given group which only lead to quarrels. Depend upon of men in which he finds himself for the time it, there is no such thing upon earth as a being. man so intensely superior to his fellow-men, that he should stand exempted from common rules of conduct. God does not permit such gaps of distance among His creatures. He gives to all, something; and He gives to none the sort of superiority you would claim. 'That faultless monster which the world ne'er saw,' is a line from a true poet and philosopher. I know but one thing, Kenneth, in which you excel other men, and that is, that you are handsomer than most men; but how far will that one advantage go, in this world?" "Well, a good way," muttured the youth, with a sulky smile, as he broke the shell of a second egg; "ask your wise friend Lorimer Boyd else." "And now, my dear boy, cease to pelt that plate with grape-skins, as though it were the author of my unwelcome lecture; and put on your hat, and do the honours of this lovely city to me; for, in spite of all my wanderings, I have never been here. And get me a list of your liabilities, that we may see what should be done. Torrieburn is not California, and even my willingness to aid you does not extend so far as to be willing to transfer the rents of my estate into the pockets of foreign gamblers. Tell me, too, something of your friends and friendships, here; since I am not entirely to rely on that honest arch-traitor my old schoolmate Lorimer Boyd. Tell me about the people we were with last night; on whom, indeed, we ought, or rather I ought, to go and leave a card this morning. And get back your smiles, Kenneth, as we walk along; for that is too clouded a brow for so clear a morning!" The anxious heart hiding its anxiety un "My friend Lorimer Boyd may overvalue an advantage he has not, as you overvalue the advantages you have. Nevertheless, he might please where you would not; and most assuredly in the great race of life he would win where you would not. Whether der this assumed gayety, touched the wayyou adopt, or refuse to adopt, a profession, ward young man more than the previous you must (unless you retire to a hermitage) lecture. Kenneth wrung his uncle's hand mingle with your fellow-men. To be ad- with some confused expressions of mingled mired, is an accident; but to be beloved is regret and deprecation; and he smiled, too in every one's power. You must, if you (not a very comfortable or satisfactory mean to be socially welcome, keep some pru- smile), as they reached the arches of the dence and decency in view; you must be villa at Santa Lucia, where Lady Charlotte patient and respectful to some men, cordial Skifton and her daughter resided; murmurand even-tempered with others; and, above ing to himself sotto voce, as he looked up at all, you must accept, in lieu of such foolish the green jalousies that shut out the sultry self-assertion as broke from you but now, day in those familiar windows, "Here, at the position which most certainly at times least, I think I have the advantage over wise will be yours-namely, the finding yourself Mr. Lorimer Boyd." And with this ejaculaless gifted, less well-informed, less worthy, tion he followed Sir Douglas into the house. and less esteemed, than some you consort THE DYING YEAR. The elm, a yellow mountain, Pour forth their quenchless grief; The winds, like banshees mourning, Lay down thy golden glories; The bare boughs bar the sky - Thou hast lived thy life, remember; - Chambers' Journel.. From Macmillan's Magazine. "PEACE ON EARTH." BY THOMAS HUGHES, M. P. FOR LAMBETH. THE last time that the season of "peace on earth and good will to men came round, the great struggle between the free and slave powers in America had not yet come to death-grips. Here, at least, many people still believed that the Southern States could not be subdued, and were sure sooner or later to establish their independence, and a new polity which would act for the rest of time as a healthy corrective to the dangerously popular institutions and ideas of New England. The year has passed, and the great revolutionary epic of our time has closed. Perhaps some of us may still stop short of Mr. Seward's triumphant summing up: -"Death," he says in his yearly address to his fellow-citizens at Auburn, "Death has removed his victims; Liberty has crowned her heroes; Humanity has crowned her martyrs; the sick and the stricken are cured; the surviving combatants are fraternizing; and the country the object of our just pride, and lawful affection. once more stands collected and composed, firmer, stronger, and more majestic than ever before, with out one cause of dangerous discontent at home, and without an enemy in the world." We may think him somewhat too hopeful in the breadth of his assertions, and may have our fears that it may take a generation yet to weld again into one brotherhood all the States of the Union. But, when he predicts so fearlessly that "under next October's sun he shall be able, with his fellowtownsmen in Auburn, to rejoice in the restoration of peace, harmony, and union throughout the land," we cannot but own that earlier prophecies of his, which seemed at least as rash, have been fulfilled almost to the letter. In any case, we do all willingly now admit, and honour, the marvellous energy and constancy with which the great game has been played out by the American people. As one of the many Eng lishmen whose faith in that people never faltered during the contest, I do most heartily rejoice to see that all classes of my countrymen are at last not only ready to appreciate, but hearty in their appreciation of, what has been done for freedom in America in this revolutionary war. I am sure that we now only want further knowledge of facts to honour our kith and kin across the Atlantic as they deserve to be honoured, for the glorious sacrifices which they made of all that was most precious and dearest to them in a struggle upon which not only their own life as a nation, but the future of at least one-third of the world, was at stake. In this belief, I think that Christmas is the right time for bringing out into somewhat clearer light a side of the drama which has not been as yet fairly presented to us here: I mean, first, the strain on the resources of the Northern States while the war lasted; and, secondly, the heroism of the men of gentle birth and nurture, who, so far from shrinking from the work, and fighting by substitute (as was asserted by some of our leading journals), took at least their fair share of all the dangers and miseries and toils of those dark years. First then, as to the people's work; and, highly as we may value the men who have come to the front, and whose names as soldiers and statesmen are now known over the whole world, we must acknowledge that the true hero of the war is, after all, the American people. In proof of this I will take one or two of the Northern States, and look for a moment at what the call was which was made on them, and how they answered to it. Let us look, as a first instance, at the smallest in area of all the States, and the smallest in population of all the free States. Little Rhode Island, at the census of 1860, just before the breaking out of the war, contained a population of 174.620. As usual in the Eastern States, the females considerably exceeded the males, and of the latter there were 82,304 altogether. Up to December 1st, 1862- that is to say, in less than two years from the first call of the President for troops Rhode Island furnished 14,626 men to the army, and 1,400 to the navy, or almost one in five of her total male population, and, of course, far more than that proportion of her men of fighting age, between 18 and 45. In the first enthusiasm, when the call for 500,000 men came in the summer of 1861, the quota of Rhode Island was 4,057, and she furnished 5,124. I do not give the later returns, because there appears to have been a large number of substitutes amongst her recruits after 1862, and I have no means of knowing whether these were or were not natives of the State. There is no need to overstate the case, and I should, on every account, shrink from doing so. Rhode Island, though the smallest, is tenth in rank of all the States as a producer, and her people are consequently rich and prosperous. If, in the later years of the war, they found substitutes in large numbers, it must be, at 66 those Southern campaigns? The last assessors' return gave these at 133,767; while the total number who served (including three and nine months' men, and not adhering to the three years' standard) was 153,486. Out of these, how many does the reader (who has probably heard more or less of stopping the war by prohibiting emigration from Ireland," and of "New England hiring foreign mercenaries to do the fighting") think were foreign recruits? Just 907. This does not include men born out of the States, but resident or naturalized there before the war broke out. These latter, however, I suppose, could not come within the definition of foreign mercenaries; and, of foreigners arriving in America during the war, Massachusetts enlisted, as I have said, 907 out of 150,000. While on this point, I may add that the most reliable statistics as to the whole forces of the North show that of native-born Americans there were nearly 80 per cent, of naturalized Americans 15, and of foreigners 4 per cent. only, in the ranks. the same time, remembered, that they con- to wear and tear of the human material in tributed more largely than any other State, in proportion to numbers, to that noblest of all charities- the Sanitary Commission. But Englishmen will very likely say, "Give us an instance of any but a New England State; they are exceptional." Let us take Indiana, then, one of the mighty young Western sisters, a community scarce half a century old. A stronger contrast to Rhode Island could scarcely have been found. Indiana, in 1860, possessed 8,161,717 acres of improved farming land; Rhode Island but 329,884. Indiana was fifth of all the States in agricultural production, and thirteenth in manufacturing Rhode Island standing tenth, or three higher than her gigantic younger sister. Yet we find the same readiness of response to the President's call to arms amongst Western farmers as amongst New England mechanics and merchants. The population of Indiana is returned in the census of 1860 at 1.350,428, and her males at 693,469. On the 31st of December, 1862, she had furnished 102,698 soldiers, besides a militia home-guard when her frontiers were threatened. When Morgan made his raid into the State, 60,000 tendered their services within twenty-four hours, and nearly 20,000 were on his track within three days. I do not happen in this case to have the later returns, and so must turn back to New England, to the old Puritan Bay State, to give one perfect example of what the American people did in the great struggle. Massachusetts, at the outbreak of the war, held a population of 1,230,000 or thereabouts, out of which there were 257,833 males between the ages of 15 and 40. The first blood shed in the war against the slave power, as in the Revolutionary war against England, was Massachusetts blood. The 6th Massachus tts was fired on in the streets of Baltimore on April 19th, 1861, and had to fight its way through the town, losing 4 killed and 30 wounded in the operation. Well, the number of men demanded of Massachusetts during the war was 117,624. The number furnished by her (reducing all to the three years' standard) was 125,437, being a surplus over all calls of 7.813. Besides these 6,670 were mustered in answer to a call for three months' men in 1864, which were never credited to her by the Government. Look at the meaning now of this other fact, that she has actually sent more men to the war than are now to be found in the State liable to do military duty. How does this tell as I can honestly say that I have chosen these States at hazard, and that a scrutiny of the remaining free States would give a very similar result. And now let us consider what that result is. Rhode Island, Indiana, and Massachusetts may perhaps equal in population this metropolis with its immediate suburbs; while one of them alone actually sent to active service, in the tour years of the war, an army equal in numbers to the total volunteer force now under arms in Great Britain. Rhode Island is not so populous as Sheffield; and in eighteen months she armed and sent South 15,000 of her citizens. I know that England in like need would be equal to a like effort. Let us honour, then, as they deserve the people of our own lineage to whom the call has come, and who have met it. I need scarcely pause to note how the Northern people have paid in purse as well as in person. Let one instance suffice. In 1864 the assessment of Massachusetts for taxes to support the general government amounted to fourteen millions, every fraction of which was collected without impediment or delay. Add to this the State taxation, and the amounts contributed to the Sanitary Commission, and other organizations for distributing voluntary contributions in support of the war, and we should reach a figure almost exceeding belief. I have no means of stating it accurately, but am quite safe in putting it as high as 25, 000,000 dollars, actually raised and paid, Massachusetts-Quincy, Dwight, Abbot, by a State with a population less than half Robeson, Russell, Shaw, Gordon, Savage, of that of our metropolis, in one twelve- Perkins. Such a roll will speak volumes month. And now for my second point-the example set by the men of birth, wealth, and high position. Here too I feel sure that a few simple facts, taken at hazard from the mass which I have under my hand, will be more than enough to satisfy every just and generous man amongst my countrymen; and I am proud to believe that, whatever our prejudices may be, there are few indeed amongst us to whom such an appeal will be made in vain. I have said above that the mass of materials is large; I might have said unmanageable. It is, indeed, impossible to take more than an example here and there, and to bring these out as clearly as one can in the limits of an article. Let me take as mine a family or two, with some one or more of whose members I have the honour of friendship or acquaintance. And, first, that of J. Russell Lowell, the man to whose works I owe more, personally, than to those of any other American. It would be hard to find a nobler record. The young men of this stock seem to have been all of high mark, distinguished specially for intellectual power and attainments. Surely the sickle of war has never been put more unsparingly into any field! First in order comes Willie Putnam, age 21, the sole surviving son of Lowell's sister, a boy of the highest culture and promise, mortally wounded at Ball's Bluff, in October, 1861, in the first months of the war, while in the act of going to the help of a wounded companion. At the same bitter fight his cousin, James Jackson Lowell, aged 24, was badly hurt; but, after a short absence to recruit, joined his regiment again, and fell on June 30th, 1862. "Tell my father I was dressing the line of my company when I was hit," was his last message home. He had been first in his year at Harvard, and was taking private pupils in the law-school when the war broke out. Warren Russell fell at Bull's Run, in August, 1862. Many of us here may remember the account, which was reprinted in the Times and other papers, of the presentation of colours to the 2d Massachusetts Infantry, by Mr. Motley, at Boston, in the summer of 1861. It attracted special notice from the fact that the author of the " History of the Dutch Republic" had been so lately living amongst us, and was so well known and liked here. The group of officers who received those colours were the very jeunesse dorèe of to all who have any acquaintance with I pass to the last on the list, and the most remarkable. Charles Russell Lowell, the only brother of the James who died "dressing his line," was also the first scholar of his year (1854) at Harvard. He had visited Europe for health, and made long ridingtours in Spain and Algeria, where he became a consummate horseman. On the day after the 6th Massachusetts were fired on in Baltimore streets, Charles Lowell heard of it, and started by the next train to Washington, passing through Baltimore. All communication between the two cities were suspended, but he arrived on foot at Washington in forty-eight hours. In those first days of confusion, he became agent for Massachusetts at Washington, and brought order out of chaos for his own State before joining the army. His powers of command and organization gained him rapid promotion. He served with distinction in the Peninsula campaigns of M-Clellan, and, after Antietam, was selected to carry the captured standards to Washington. He raised a second cavalry regiment at home in the winter of 1862. He was placed in command of the cavalry force which protected Washington during the dark days of 1863. In Sheridan's brilliant campaign of 1864, he commanded the cavalry brigade, of four regular regiments, and the 2nd Massa |