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boasted an admirable proficiency. A up his mind which of his favorites he gavotte of Gluck's set Mr. Hawley in
would sing. mind of a volume by a young and little He was softly humming to himself known composer-a Mr. Mozart. He the opening bars of a ballad to a sethad brought the book with him as a ting by Purcell, when through the open present to his hostess; if she would ex- doorway he heard Lady Stayneyard's cuse him for a moment he would bring voice. the gift to her.
"Mr. Hawley, Mr. Hawley!" she The music, he recollected, was in his cried. "Help! I am attacked!" bedchamber in the locked valise. There was no distress whatever in Whilst he was searching for it he the tone, but for all that in a moment caught the unmistakable sound of a Hawley was at the foot of the stairsnowball striking the window of the case from whence he fancied the cry dressing-room adjoining. He found came. the book, and without pausing to lock Here a curious sight met him. Four the valise, went to the dressing-room steps from the top of the flight, leanwindow. This he flung open.
Out- ing against the wall just under the side in the snow-covered courtyard he famous Laughton Zucchero, stood saw little blue-eyed Celia Stayne. In Lady Stayneyard, with a look of the her hand was second snowball, greatest amusement in her eyes. But which, with marvellous accuracy for a
on the landing at the top, the winter child of eight, she aimed at Hawley. sunlight, through the great west winIn a moment Mr. Hawley replied, col- dow, showed Hawley a figure which, lecting the snow from the window-sill, for a moment, madé him feel almost and a brief battle ensued. In no time, faint. however, his ammunition ran out, and There stood little fair-haired Horace, he withdrew.
dressed in a faded scarlet coat which "Ah! you coward, Mr. Hawley!” he trailed on the ground, and over his face heard her calling; "come down and
he wore the crape mask he had found fight it out.”
in the pocket of it. As he passed through his bedroom,
Hawley recognized the coat in he caught sight of the valise lying shut, flash, though it was many months since apparently exactly as he had left it,
he had seen it by daylight, and he set
himself down for lost. with the keys in the lock, and he turned
“In the king's name you will deliver the key without opening it. Little did he think that in so short a space of
to Captain Scarlet!" cried Horace to
his mother, not noticing Hawley's time Master Horace had been there,
presence. And with that he raised curiously searching for the birthday
cocked pistol-Hawley's smaller present he had so foolishly mentioned
weapon-and pointed it at his mother, to him. This the child had not found,
who with well-assumed fright was but a pistol and a wonderful scarlet fumbling in the pocket of her dress. coat had instantly struck his fancy, and calmly extracting these from their pistol, he remembered, was loaded. As
Hawley saw the danger at once. The hiding-place, he had slipped out of the
like as not this child would kill his room with them.
mother as she stood there laughing at Mr. Hawley returned to the drawing- him. room. Lady Stayneyard was not there,
With this recollection came to him The room was quite empty. On her
that strange mental clearness and ladyship’s escritoire lay the programme sense of strength which the sight of of the concert for that evening. It danger always provoked in him, and a was written in a fine, clear hand, and recklessness that was somewhat more inscribed with many curls and flour- unusual. ishes. He read twice, “Song-Mr. Quick as thought he shouted, “CapGeorge Hawley," and he tried to make tain Scarlet, by your leave I am here
to defend this lady. You will shoot “Captain Scarlet is all the rage, and me first." And he raised his right in all men's minds." hand, pointing the forefinger at Horace “And you will do it quite admirably, and snapping the others in a make- too,” Lady Stayneyard continued, believe fashion.
greatly pleased with the idea. “Why, Instantly the action had the desired Mr. Hawley, you are a born actor. I effect. Horace, noticing Mr. Hawley Vow you went a shade paler when for the first time, turned the barrel full Horace pointed his pistol at you." on him.
"Really?” said Hawley, smiling.
"j "I wait for no man!” cried the little suppose it was the recollection of the boy, "unless mamma hands me her horrible things you told me of your jewels. I shall count three and fire." local terror. What a heartless ruffian
The inartistic lapse of "mamma" for he is, and how merciless!" "this lady" did not, you may be sure, “Fate send we may never meet him," escape George Hawley. In the sec- she said, with a little shudder. onds which followed his grave eyes "He would not harm you for the for a moment met those of Lady world.” Stayneyard. With a faint smile of irri- "Why do you say that?" she asked tation be noted that she smiled a little. suddenly. How slowly Horace counted! At “Because we have the rascal now," "two," Lady Stayneyard beld . her he explained, somewhat illogically, bands to her ears. A cold sense of holding Horace by the collar of the calm, almost triumph came to him. coat. But we will be lenient with him
"Three!” said Horace. There was a and pass sentence on him that he keep click, and he knew that the pistol had our secret until this evening, and in flashed in the pan. He thought how the mean time be compelled to listen to unlike the great highwayman such a a rehearsal of my songs. It will be mistake was.
Then to his horror he a great trial for him, I assure you. heard Lady Stayneyard say:
Shall we come to the music-room?" "Horace, where did you find the won- So they divested Horace of the coat derful coat? What a formidable pis- and mask, and carried him a captive to tol, too! Almost like a real one.” the rehearsal. "I found them in Mr. Hawley's
Lady Stayneyard's entertainment the child began.
was, as usual, a vast success, Mr. But Hawley cut him short. “You Hurdlestone sang “When to her lute little rascal!” he cried, seizing him by Corinna sings," with much taste, and the arm and quickly taking the pistol Miss Dorothea Sutton's execution on from him. "You have disclosed my the harp was greatly admired. But secret.”
the event of the evening was undoubt"What secret, Mr. Hawley?” Lady edly the appearance of Mr. George Stayneyard asked.
Hawley as “Captain Scarlet." His "Why,” said Hawley, and he was second song, of which one verse ran:bimself once more, “I wished it to be a surprise. I had a notion to sing a What ho! The ruddy guinea clinks; couple of songs in this costume which A cry! A pistol crack! I had made on purpose, at your enter- Your gallant loves the dark, methinks, tainment this evening. Topical, you
With Bow Street on his track. know. "Gentleman all, in the name of
The shadows creep; the world's asleep, the king,” and “What, ho, there, my gallant spark!' style of affair. They was almost universally popular. would not fail in this particular neigh- Miss Goodchild, however, vowed that borhood and among the tenantry to be Mr. Hawley was not near so handpopular."
some as the real Captain Scarlet; and "How clever of you to think of such the critics were unanimous in agreeing a splendid idea!”
that, though the performance was very
spirited, the coat was scarcely of the sets of so many centuries and to be correct shade.
quietly breathing them back into modARTHUR STUART. ern England's more troubled air. How
well those caps and gowns harmonize with them! Certainly Oxford and Cambridge, with all their clustered
colleges, are England's two anchors let From The Nineteenth century.
down with the past. May they keep SOME RECOLLECTIONS OF CARDINAL her long from drifting from the regions NEWMAN.
dedicated to piety and learning into When first I made acquaintance with
those devoted but to business or pleasNewman I was young and impression
ure. able, and for that reason all the more
The ancient spirit is not dead: able to appreciate at least a portion of
Old times, I said, are breathing here, what was most remarkable about him. It was late in 1838, and Oxford, apart
In Oxford there then abode a man, from its illustrious inmate, would himself a lover of old times, and yet one have well repaid me for my journey who in fighting his way back to them from Ireland, not then a short one.
had in the first place to create an order The sun was setting as I approached it,
of things relatively new-John Henry and its last light shone brightly from
Newman. I had left for him a letter the towers, spires, and domes of En- of introduction from an eminent Felgland's holy city. Such a city I had low of Trinity College, Dublin, the Rev. never seen before, and the more I saw
J. H. Todd, to whose learning, liberalof it the more deeply was I touched. ity, and patriotism Ireland has owed Its monastic stillness is not confined much. Early in the evening a singuto its colleges; much of the city besides, larly graceful figure in cap and gown in spite of modern innovations, wore glided into the room. The slight form then an aspect of antiquity; and the and gracious address might have bestaid courtesy of those whom I met in longed either to a youthful escetic of the streets contrasted delightfully with
the Middle Ages or a graceful and the bustle, the roughness, and the surly high-bred lady of our own days.
He self-assertion encountered in the thor-, was pale and thin almost to emáciaoughfares of our industrial centres. tion, swift of pace, but, when not walkI had often to ask my way, and the ing, intensely still, with a voice sweet reply was generally an offer to accom- and pathetic both, but so distinct that pany me. It reminded me of what I you could count each vowel and consohad heard respecting Spain, viz., that nant in every word. I observed later every peasant there is a gentleman. As that when touching upon subjects I walked I recited to myself Words- which interested him much he used worth's sonneton Bruges, and won- gestures rapid and decisive, though not dered why the most patriotic of poets
vehement, and that while in the exhad not rather addressed it to Oxford. pression of thoughts upon important There seemed a rest about that city, subjects there was often a restrained bequeathed to it by the strength of old ardor about him, yet if individuals traditions, which I have nowhere else were in question he spoke severely of enjoyed so much except at Rome. none, however widely their opinions
“While these courts remain,” I said and his might differ. As we parted I to myself, “and nothing worse is heard asked him why the cathedral bells rang than the chiming of these clocks and at so late an hour. “Only some young bells, the best of all that England men keeping themselves warm,” he anboasts will remain also.”. “Nothing
swered. “Here," I thought, “even come to thee new or strange," is written amusements have ecclesiastical upon every stone in those old towers, character." He had asked
to which seem to have drunk up the sun- breakfast with him the next morning
and meet his young friend Frederic some one who expressed surprise at Rogers, afterwards Lord Blachford, a Milnes's holding any opinions upon man later as remarkable for high abil- such a subject. “Oh, he holds none; ity as high principle, and especially for but he took a fancy to write a philowhat Sir Henry Taylor called his mar- sophic essay on the subject of the day; vellous gift of "sure-footed rapidity” so he wrote what he thought a philoin the despatch of business. After sophic mind like Thirlwall's might breakfast he placed me in the hands of think.” It was a very brilliant essay. Mr. Mozley, who became my guide The stir made by “Tract 90” gave it an among the objects of especial interest immense circulation, with the proceeds at Oxford, an office not less kindly dis- of which Newman bought a library, charged the next day by Mr. Palmer, now included in that at the Edgbaston well known from his theological works. Oratory; but though he bore with a I shall never forget the kindness which dignified self-control what his friends I received at that time, and later, from regarded as a persecution, yet a tract distinguished men, several of whom generally regarded as one that exreminded me that my family name had plained the Thirty-nine Articles by exold associations with Oxford, while plaining them away could not but inothers gave me letters to eminent per- crease the distrust with which he had sons in Rome.
long been regarded both by the EvanI did not see Newman again till after gelical and the Establishmentarian the lapse of three or four years. Many party in the Church of England. Sevthings had occurred in the interval. He eral recent occurrences, on the other had read much, he had thought much, hand, had impaired Newman's conand he had written much. His fame fidence in her position, especially the had grown; so had the devotion of his
“Jerusalem Bishopric,” which he refriends, the animosity of his enemies, garded as a fraternization of that and the alarms of many admirers. Church with a German non-episcopal Those alarms had been much increased community, and also as a hostile intruby one of the recent “Tracts for the sion into the diocese of an Eastern Times,” the celebrated Tract No. 90. bishop possessing the “apostolical sucThe wits were contented with averring cession and primitive doctrine.” Against that No. 90 meant only “No Go.” Sev- that measure he and Dr. Pusey had eral of the university authorities, how- solemnly protested, but in vain. Their ever, thought that the tract was interference had given great offence laughing matter, and instituted pro- in high ecclesiastical quarters; and not ceedings against its author, Newman, a few made themselves merry at the probably with regret, but in the convic
war between the bishops and their tion that it was injurious to the chief supporters, while a story went "Thirty-nine Articles," which Mr. round that the wife of some dignitary O'Connell had called the “forty stripes had openly stated that she could not save one" inflicted by Queen Elizabeth
approve of the indiscriminate study of on the Church of England;" but the “the Fathers” among the clergy, beHigh Church reply was that if the cause it tended to "put thoughts into "Thirty-nine Articles” felt aggrieved, the heads of young curates.” Newman so much the worse for them, since in was then “quadraginta annos natus," that case they must be opposed to “pa- yet even he apparently had not escaped tristic antiquity,” by which the Church this danger: for, though his mastery of of England professed to stand. Many "the Fathers" was almost as much an pamphlets were written on the subject, acknowledged fact as his mastery of one of them by a layman, my old friend, Holy Scripture, their teaching R. M. Milnes, afterwards Lord Hough- longer, as once, seemed to him much ton. I remember Wordsworth's read- to resemble that of the Established ing it and giving it high praise; and I Church. He wished to be at liberty, remember also Dr. Whewell's reply to and he resigned bis Oxford preferment
and retired to Littlemore. That voice final casting up of an account is a more the "solemn sweetness" of which, as difficult process than the preliminary Mr. Gladstone described it, had pierced ranging of the figures one beneath anall hearts at St. Mary's, was heard other. Newman's long and arduous there no more except in sad memory studies had collected a vast mass of and sadder anticipation.' Men remem- philosophical and theological matebered that the pathos so much more rials; and the details were doubtless powerful than any vehemence could arranging themselves in his mind and have been, that insight which made his pointing towards the sum total. That gentleness so formidable a thing, those sum total, perhaps, looked daily less dagger-points of light flashed in upon like what he had contemplated in his the stricken conscience, and, most of youthful anticipations-a Church of all, that intense reality which sent a England triumphant here below, pure spiritual vibration over the land, with as the earliest day-dawn of the Faith, the warning, “Words have a meaning venerable the sagest antiquity, whether we mean that meaning or cleansed from mediæval accretions, ennot." These things men remembered, riched by modern science, daily rising perhaps the more because they saw the up out of the confusions of the sixman no more.
teenth century, and delivering itself Littlemore was but three miles from from secular bonds at no loss but that Oxford. He had retired there to a of diminished revenues; one with a hermitage stiller even than Oxford- gradually increased colonial extension, that Oxford described by "Wulfstan making her the inheritor of a second the Wise" as serener than the summit “orbis terrarum;" and ultimately a reof Olympus, the Olympus which he
union with the earlier one. Such ever thus describes.
since my boyhood had been my aspiraSo tranquil were the elements there, 'tis tion: how much more it must have been said
his! Yet that day as we walked toThat letters by the finger of the priest
gether—for he was good enough to acWrit in the ashes of the sacrifice
company me most of the way to Oxford Remained throughout the seasons —those aspirations did not seem to effaced."
smile upon him amid the summer field To Littlemore I walked alone through flowers as they had smiled four years the fields from Oxford. The little previously that night when the cold hermitage had been changed into a Christmas winds blew the cathedral little monastery by the addition of chimes over us. Newman's mind, howsome small rooms which sheltered a ever, was not like Mr. Ward's which few young men who, like those that ac- always saw with a diamond clearness companied Plato in the gardens of
what it saw at all; it included a large Academe, walked with him that they crepuscular region through which his might learn from him. One of these intelligence had to pass before its dawn youths was afterwards well known as broadened into day. No one could apFather Ambrose St. John, who, but preciate better than he the subtlety of for his premature death, would have illusions, or their dangerous consebeen Newman's biographer. Another quences; no one could feel more prowas Father Dalgairns. I asked one of foundly the pain of severing old ties; them whether they recited the “Canon
but he has told us that he could never ical Hours” of the Breviary, and un- see why any number of difficulties derstood that they did so. I was deeply
need produce a single doubt as regards interested that day by my interview matters of faith; and perhaps he might with Newman, though he seemed to me
have added that he could never see more reserved than when I had first why any amount of suffering need made his acquaintance, and very
paralyze action in matters of duty, grave, if not actually depressed. The when at last certainty had emerged 1 Edwin the Fair, by Sir Henry Taylor.
from the region of doubt. Daily I