both in Bohemia and Poland, use the | bribes, promises, and threats. In any power which he, in return for their other country in Europe a minister support, has given them, to oppress who played Count Taaffe's role would most ruthlessly their weaker neighbors. be a miscreant and a traitor; but in The Czechs especially have shown Austria it is otherwise; there opporthemselves tyrannical and insatiable. tunism is the one art of ruling; and They have scornfully rejected the em- the count gave a signal proof of his peror's compromise-an attempt to loyalty and patriotism when, putting arrange a modus vivendi between them- aside all personal feelings, he set to selves and the German Bohemians work determinedly to serve his country, and they are now openly waging war not as he would have liked to serve it, against Count Taaffe, in revenge for not as he believed he best could serve his refusal to consent to the coronation it, but in the only way it is willing to at Prague.

This they do, although be served. they are fully aware that a coronation would entail civil war in the land. When Dr. Gregr took Dr. Rieger's place, the ex-premier knew he must look for supporters elsewhere; no terms that he could offer would satisfy the young Czechs' cormorant leader.

From The Cornhill Magazine.

MEMORIES OF THE MASTER OF BALLIOL.

It was a very remarkable gathering - that gathering of men in the Balliol Chapel- to mourn for the master who had been taken from their head. Walkers in various paths of life, thinkers of various ways of thought, had found their paths and ways all converge in sorrow for a common loss—not only to the college, but to their time and fatherland.

The coffin lay upon its trestles shoulder high. Over it fell a purple pall, made white with floral tributes; but the greatest tribute there was the presence of such men of busy life and active mind, come to pay grateful homage to the memory of their spiritual father. For indeed he was their spiritual even as he was their intellec

Count Taaffe has fallen, or rather he has stepped aside for a time-only for a time, nota bene - that others may try their hand at solving some of the problems which have baffled him. During his fourteen years of premiership his opponents were unscrupulous and implacable, his supporters captious and vacillating; and he had to reckon with a Reichsrath which contains twelve distinct parties, each with interests, aspirations, and antipathies of its own. In such circumstances the wonder is, not that he should have done so little, but rather that he should have done anything at all. As the head of a progressive majority, he might have actual father, he who for so many years complished a noble work in the world; as the chief of a party such as his, his merit is that he has at least prevented evil being done. Probably no one regrets more than he does the straits which compelled him, again and again, to have recourse to somewhat unscrupulous tactics and questionable manœuvres to keep together his heterogeneous troop of followers, and thus frustrate the schemes of those whom he regards as the enemies of the State. By nature he is a straightforward, plain-dealing man; and it was only hard necessity that drove him to govern by playing off Then forth from the chapel we went, party against party, nation against na- a great crowd. But where were the tion, and lavishing on each in turn personal mourners? where the rela

of incessant labor and marvellous energy had taught them all how best to be about their Father's business.

A Scotch philosopher, an English lord, and a Japanese earl came by me and took their seats in silent sadness. The thought of the secret of Jowett's power to reach, through these his pupils, such divers worlds crossed one's mind, and as one noted that just opposite sat together the Dean of Westminster, the speaker of the House of Commons, and Professor Huxley, the wonder grew.

Jericho.

"I don't know what is become of him. I never knew him."

tives? Close behind the coffin came | talked at all about his relations-inthe faithful servants of the house, deed seemed a little huffed when asked hardly able to restrain their grief; but after a certain cousin who was known brothers and sisters, nephews or nieces, as "Joe Jowett" in the Kettering there were none. Only, as we moved neighborhood some thirty years ago, through the quiet quadrangle towards and answered sharply : the St. Giles' entrance, a voice seemed to say, "I have no need of relations in the flesh, seeing I have such near ones To such an apparently friendless in the spirit. Behold! all these that youth Balliol became father, mother, follow me are sons." It was indeed a sister, and brother; and one could unstriking instance of the strength of the derstand upon reflection what was spiritual tie that this man, who sixty meant when he said, "I owe everyyears ago had taken Balliol College thing to the college." For he had unto himself as bride, should now be climbed from high to higher. Scholar, borne along to burial by such a family fellow, and tutor; all but master in of sons and daughters (for women were 1854; master in 1870; unchanging in of the company) as followed the coffin his love and devotion to the great trust through the broad St. Giles and the imposed upon him; changeless almost narrow-streeted suburb, to that un-in cherubic face; changeless in dress lovely and unlovable resting-place in -tail-coated to the last-and so unchangeable in his affectionate regard "I owe everything to the college," for the wife he had espoused when he Jowett used to say; and if one had became a scholar, that the very last been tempted to have replied, "The words that fell from his lips before he college owes everything to you," the died were My love to the college." master would certainly have said, What were the secrets of this life of Not at all, not at all! You don't influence? They were many. First know what you are talking about." and foremost, resistless and untiring And, in a sense, it was true. For the energy. In the old tutorial days, belittle fair-haired lad, of cherub face, fore he became master, his doors were clad in tail-coat and short breeches tied open to every undergraduate who cared at the knee with blue ribbon, who was to be helped. Many a don felt that the joke of his competitors for the Bal- the day's work ceased with the last lecliol scholarship long years ago, came ture; most were confident that after nobody quite knew from whence, and Hall came Common-room, and after seemed to have no relatives to return Common-room rest, perhaps sleep. But to. He might have been the son of a from eight o'clock till midnight a stream certain gentleman foud of flowers, of of young men might be seen passing whom in 1810, at Cambridge, ran the up to Jowett's rooms, with essays, quatrain: iambics, Greek verse or prose-all coming, by invitation, for advice and help, and taking away not only corrections in metre and style, but new thoughts about the worth of work done thoroughly, and the possibility of serving others than themselves by the work they took in hand. It was this resistless energy that made him, as an undergraduate, work thirteen hours a day, as he once told a Siamese prince in my hearing.

66

A little garden little Jowett made,
And fenced it with a little palisade.
If you would know the mind of little
Jowett,

This little garden does no little show it.
Or, again, he might be the son of a
worthy printer in Bolt Court, London.
Some averred that his parents were
well-known linen - drapers, near St.
Paul's school. All that was really
known was that, from the day he won
the scholarship, Balliol became to
the boy's heart- home.

LIVING AGE.

The said Siamese prince had, as the porter pompously expressed it, "Comed He never into Balliol by the master's front door, VOL. LXXXIV. 4364

sir," had entered for his "Smalls," had sharply, No, no; I don't want an

Just steady me that's all." Another secret of his influence with men was his transparent candor -candor too transparent to be rude. One remembers how, at the first breakfast with the master, we, who as trembling

telegraphed, so it was popularly under-arm. stood, to his father that he was in for this, his first examination, and had paid for a reply telegram, which, it is asserted, ran as follows: "It is well. Fourteen youths of the nobler sort have been sacrificed." But the propitiatory | undergraduates had talked, or thought offering in Siam had failed to help in the battle of the schools. The prince had been plowed, and was sent for by the master.

we had talked, of all things under heaven and on earth, and had been unable to extract any replies whatever, heard from the master's lips his opin"I am much ashamed of you," said ion of our chatter-"Good-morning, Jowett, in his sternest and jerkiest gentlemen. I think you must cultivate manner; "you are very idle — very | conversational powers. Good-mornidle. You are no credit to your coun-ing."

To whom replied the master, 66 You ought to work at least eight hours. When I was your age I worked thirteen."

try, or to this college. How many This candor was so natural to the hours a day do you work?" man that at times he ran risks of being To which the Siamese answered smil-thought to be personal. Thus, for exingly, "Aw, master, I do work very ample, in one of his sermons in chapel hard. Sometimes three hours." we were electrified to hear him ouce say, "We see our old friends sitting in their study-chairs and getting narrower and narrower every day." Now, we saw one of those old friends actually sitting within a few feet of the preacher, and our ears tingled for the master; but it was quite evident that the preacher was in that condition of mind upon the matter that friends qua persons had ceased to exist for him, and the truth he wished to press home of the need of wide sympathy to the end of life had obliterated all thought or fear of the person of man.

It is true that one was convulsed at the time by hearing the prince say, with a grin from ear to ear, but in all good faith, "Aw, but master, you have such a very big head!" but that "I used to work thirteen hours a day" sank deep into one's mind.

From any one else it might have seemed a little rude to take a man out for a long walk, make no reply to a remark about the weather that had been at last made in sheer desperation, walk back a mile in silence, and turn round on the doorstep, shake hands, and say: "I don't think much of that last remark of yours — good-day; "' but it came naturally from Jowett, and was said with such evident intent not to harm, but to help, that the man was not hurt by it at all.

It was this same unquenchable energy that made Jowett (at least so it is reported), when he was beginning to be ill two years ago, on hearing from his medical attendant that he was very seriously sick and must keep absolutely quiet, after much question and answer about the symptoms, bow the doctor out of his bedroom, with "Thank you, thank you!"—then rise from his bed, dress, order a hansom, go up to London, transact some business he felt important, and return to his bed. It was the same spirit that, as late as three years ago, when I met him at a station, refused to allow me to carry his luggage for him to the conveyance, with a short By the way, what funny things those "I can do it myself." It was this silent walks were! The master would, spirit that, when on the occasion of the after a lap or two of silence, suddenly laureate's funeral, a year ago, I prof-break to humming a tune, and after a fered him an arm as we descended the long steps from the Chapter House to the cloisters, made him say, a little

turn or two of humming would relapse into silence. Sometimes he would astonish his companions by saying, "Shall

we run and get warm?" and away he would go till the younger would cry, "Hold; enough!"

It was this candor that made him say once to a talkative young fellow who had come up to compete for the Balliol scholarship, and who had come into breakfast with his competitor - a very shy boy-and had asked whether his rival was a clever boy, "Yes; he'll get the scholarship—not you."

46

It was this candor that came to the front at a dinner party of men (old Balliol scholars) who had passed out with honors from the college, and were serving their country in various public posts of importance. One of them said, Master, we should be very sorry to have to go in for the Balliol scholarship now; we should none of us pass," and all expected to hear Jowett say, "Oh, nonsense! You are all better scholars now than then." But Jowett glanced round the table, and just said, "Yes, one of you would — Stanley, here.”

It was this candor that enabled him, as it was currently reported, to say to the young man who had thrown up an important post in the Indian Civil Service and taken the twelve shillings a week pay of a captain in the Salvation Army, "I always thought you a foolish young man; but, on the whole, I have come to the conclusion that this is the wisest step you could have taken."

Of course, at times this blunt outspokenness and absolute reality were felt to be galling. Men who were deservedly snubbed smarted under it. But then the master knew generally what was in man; he studied men's characters, observed men closely, and even on the torture-rack of his long silences he learned something of their inner lives. So that if his words were sharp, they were often salutary.

A Greek scholar, with a great reputation and a fairly good opinion of himself, came up from a Scotch university and showed up an incontestably good copy of Greek Iambics. Jowett looked them over, and to the young man expectant of great praise quietly said, with his quaint blink of the eye, you think, Mr. So-and-So, you could do anything in the way of mathematics ? "

"Do

On another occasion, at one of the test-by-silence breakfasts, a young man who did most of the chatter said to his neighbor, "I seem to be doing all the talking.' Jowett overheard him, and answered, "Yes; very young men generally do that."

This reality of the master made him impatient of all sham or shoddy, and very much inclined to distrust all gush and all apparent unreality. It was a common story in old Balliol days that an undergraduate who had attended the master's lectures on 66 Natural Re

"The

Once I feared his blunt outspoken-ligion" thought it the right thing to ness would have got him into serious pose as an unbeliever, and said, trouble. A drunken flyman, one fine fact is, master, I cannot find evidence moonlight night, came to take us home of a god anywhere." after dinner from the house of a friend, "You must find one by midnight, or and our host had gone to the door and you will go down to-morrow," was the expostulated with the incapable coach-sharp answer that brought the young

man. When we went out the driver had got down from the box, and appeared to wish to be squaring up to the master, with the words, "This gen'man says I'm drunk. What do you say?" I shall not soon forget the look of calm serenity, nor the absolute truthfulness and tone of unflinching assertion, with which Jowett - who might have been pardoned for a certain evasion under the circumstances said to the flyman militant, "Yes, you are drunk― very drunk indeed.”

man to his senses, and discovered a divinity that shaped his ends where it was least expected, in the clear common sense that would stand no trifling or levity in serious things.

I remember his saying to a young man who had been talking rather gushingly of his love for the poets, "Do you ever write poetry, Mr. M—?” "Yes-well, I do something in that way," was the answer. "Never mind," said the master, "how much you write, as long as you burn it all." It

was good advice, and it was said with | few words. As vice-chancellor men said his ability to transact business swiftly was astonishing.

such a kindly smile that it was felt for good.

On another occasion an undergraduate gushed considerably about the glory of the bright spring day. "The shower of blossom, the song of birds, the music of bees what a gift from Heaven it all is ! It makes us all poets. Does it not make you feel poetical, master?" said the rash youth. "No," said Jowett testily, "I think not. Take some more tea."

Jowett's reality could not stand conceit a bit more than he could away with idleness. Instead of saying, as Harry Smith would say, 66 My dear sir, you are a very young man and belong to a very old college," Jowett would say straight out, "You are a very conceited young man; do not be so foolish."

Of course, it is true that sometimes in council or debate he was accused of being very deaf at judicious moments, and so not putting a motion which he knew would be the direct opposite of what he wished or felt was wise;. but even then his wisdom, his determination not to be caught napping, called forth the admiration of his opponents. Undergraduates often experienced how wide-awake the apparently comatose master was, and this especially at essay-time. A friend of mine had forgotten till too late the weekly task, and accordingly had written six instead of twelve sheets of rubbish. Jowett appeared to be asleep, and the reader read very slowly and majestically, and ended the "linkèd sweetness long drawn out" with a grand rhetorical flourish, as much as to say, "You see what a hard-working young fellow I am, and how industriously I have performed the allotted task!" Jowett just said, "Read on, please," in his little chirping voice, and my friend was floored.

Akin to this love of reality was a love of naturalness that at times almost appeared simplicity. The master's easy manner with women, and his pleasure in the company of children, was the result of this love of naturalness. The way in which he shared his confidence with the servants of his household, his close friendship with his secretary That piping chirrup of the master's whom he had trained to the work, was was very catching. One at least of the part of his sincere delight in natural-undergraduates had by imitation beness. On one occasion a friend of mine had forgotten the hour for reading essays to the master till it was too late for him to go home and change his boating-dress. He came up breathless from the boats in a Balliol blazer, knocked at the study door, and said, “I am very sorry, master, I clean forgot the time, and have run up straight from the boats to read my essay. I know I ought to have come in cap and gown, but I really have not had time to go to my lodgings."

come so unconsciously like of speech
that we who were assembled in the
master's study to hear the essays read,
and wait our turn for execution, were
horrified and convulsed to hear Jowett
say at the end of the essay,
" Very
bald, very bald," in his quaint falsetto,
and to hear in answer from the culprit
in just the same falsetto with a crack
in it, "Oh! do you think so?"
expected an explosion, but the master
was always master of himself, and he
simply stirred the fire, and said, "Next,
please."

We

To the astonishment of the brother essayists assembled, Jowett smiled, I suppose it was in his business caand said, "Come in, come in. I quite pacity that his brevity of speech stood understand." It was the naturalness the master in best stead. Many inof the man in the blazer that had ap-stances occur of this commendable pealed to the master's heart.

There was also about the master an attractiveness to business men from the way in which he went to the point in

brevity.

There had been a luncheon party in college, and,. after it, the young men who had well lunched thought it the