take place at all. If the Greeks do not care to comply with these conditions, or if the Ionian people prefer to remain under our rule,, that is their concern: and our Government will at least have given proof that its retention of the Ionian Islands does not proceed from a grasping selfishness, but simply (in fulfilment of the trust reposed in us by the other Powers in 1815) to prevent those islands falling into bad hands. In a few years hence, at most, there can hardly fail to be hostilities on the Adriatic, whether between Austria and Italy, or between the Porte and some of its provinces, not unassisted by other Powers; and in such a case our possession of the Ionian Islands would be very embarrassing to us, unless it were known and felt by every one that we remained there only in discharge of a duty to Europe which profited us nothing. Times are greatly altered since 1815: neither France nor Russia has the least chance of ever again being left in possession of Corfu and its sister islands. With a united Italy on one side of the Adriatic, and the growing maritime power of Greece on the other -States which can hardly be enemies, but ought to be firm alliesthere is small chance of an extraneous Power being allowed to establish itself in the basin of the Adriatic. Nor, in these times when the principle of nationality is the foremost regulating force in politics, is it likely that Europe would remain indifferent to so flagrant a violation of that principle, as well as of common justice.

As France has her hands full in Mexico, and is waiting till the pear is ripe in Germany, we may count upon another year of peace in Europe. We regard with no jealousy the intervention of France in Mexico. It cannot possibly do us harm; and if the result of the intervention be to raise Mexico to new life and productiveness, the world may congratulate itself on the happy change. Meanwhile, it

acts as a diversion, and turns the military ambition of France away from Europe; so that for another year we may take our ease or follow our industry, without fearing to be disturbed by any serious hostilities. Still there is no assured tranquillity; we shall have no Long Peace such as the last generation enjoyed; and for many years to come the country is likely to feel the advantage of keeping its naval and military resources in a state of thorough efficiency.

In a few days Parliament will meet, and already the usual rumours and speculations are current as to the programme of the Ministry. It is very safe to say that there will be nothing in the Speech from the Throne to provoke a conflict. The most prominent feature of the Speech will doubtless be the paragraphs which relate to the great distress in the manufacturing districts, and the admirable spirit with which it is borne by the sufferers and alleviated by the wise munificence of the other classes of the community. There will be an expression of regret for the continuance of the lamentable contest in America, and a hope that it will soon terminate. The country will be congratulated on the extraordinary vitality of its trade and commerce, indicated by the Board of Trade returns, despite the unparalleled disaster which has befallen our greatest branch of industry; and the commercial treaty with France will come in for another laudation. Nothing will be said of the new and indefensible policy of the Government on the Danish question; but the affairs of Greece will be alluded to in a friendly spirit. And finally, Parliament will be congratulated on our friendly relations with all foreign Powers, and the happy prospect of a year of tranquillity. It is rumoured that Mr Gladstone, with his characteristic restlessness, means to propose important changes in regard to the position of the Bank of England; and we have no confidence that the

changes proposed by a statesman so crotchetty will be for the better. Although the subject is not likely to be alluded to in the Royal Speech,. it appears certain that very considerable reductions are to be proposed in all branches of the national defences. If the work of retrenchment is to be accomplished in a right way, by studying economy without destroying efficiency, the country will be grateful. But if the reduction in the naval and military estimates is to be made, not by improving the organisation and administration of these departments, but by summarily cutting them down-by stopping the work in our dockyards, and dismissing trained soldiers and sailors whose places will by-and-by have to be refilled by raw recruits-it will be a recurrence to the old penny-wise poundfoolish economy which produced the breakdown and disasters of the Crimean war. Time will show. Meanwhile we rejoice to know that the Conservative party, augmented alike in numbers and in prestige, is now so powerful that it ought to be able to resist successfully any measures of wrong policy or mistaken legislation on the part of the Government. The gains and losses at the elections since the last change of Ministry show a net balance of ten seats in favour of the Conservative party-two of which are the new seats, Lancashire and Birkenhead; so that the Conservative Ministry, which was defeated in June 1859 by thirteen votes, would now, in similar circumstances, have a majority of five.

But, in truth, the circumstances are not similar. Reform since then has been seen through and discarded; and the feeling of the country is now so universally Conservative, that, if in office, the Conservative party would command a great majority. As it is, they are already so strong, that, when united, they can determine the judgment of the House. Happily the constitution of the State is no longer in danger. Lord Russell's Reform Bills have had their day, and have been consigned to the limbo of vanities. The constitution of the Church, however, is still an object of virulent and persevering attack; and we trust that the Conservative party will not relax its vigilance and energy from an over-confidence in its successes of last session. Let them remember East Kent, where they threw away an important seat by sheer remissness and mismanagement, and not allow reverses to befall them in Parliament from a like cause. Church questions are now the great battle-field between Conservative and Liberal. Let the Opposition strain every nerve to convert the drawn battle in Churchrates last year into a crowning and decisive victory; so that the work of Radical innovation be finally brought to an end, and that the Conservative party may find its last difficulties vanquished even before it quits its present position on the Opposition benches, and enters upon the pleasurable responsibilities of office, which so soon await it, and of which it promises to have a long

term.

THE next day the atmosphere was much cooler, refreshed by a heavy shower that had fallen at dawn; and when, not long after noon, Percival and I, mounted on ponies bred in the neighbouring forests, were riding through the narrow lanes towards the house we had agreed to visit, we did not feel the heat oppressive. It was a long excursion; we rode slowly, and the distance was about sixteen miles.

We arrived at last at a little hamlet remote from the highroads. The cottages, though old-fashioned, were singularly neat and trim flower-plots before them, and small gardens for kitchen use behind. A very ancient church, with its parsonage, backed the broad villagegreen; and opposite the green stood one of those small quaint manorhouses which satisfied the pride of our squires two hundred years ago. On a wide garden-lawn in front were old yew-trees cut into fantas

VOL. XCIII.-NO. DLXIX.

tic figures of pyramids and obelisks and birds and animals; beyond the lawn, on a levelled platform immediately before the house, was a small garden, with a sundial, and a summer-house or pavilion of the date of William III., when buildings of that kind, for a short time, became the fashionable appendage to country-houses, frequently decorated inside with musical trophies, as if built for a music-room; but, I suspect, more generally devoted to wine and pipes by the host and his male friends. At the rear of the house stretched an ample range of farm-buildings in very good repair and order, the whole situated on the side of a hill, sufficiently high to command an extensive prospect, bounded at the farthest distance by the sea, yet not so high as to lose the screen of hills, crested by young plantations of fir and larch; while their midmost slopes were, in part, still aban

T

doned to sheep-walks; in part, brought (evidently of late) into cultivation; and farther down, amid the richer pastures that dipped into the valley, goodly herds of cattle indolently grazed or drowsily reposed.

We dismounted at the white garden-gate. A man ran out from the farmyard and took our ponies; evidently a familar acquaintance of Tracey's, for he said heartily, "that he was glad to see his honour looking so well," and volunteered a promise that the ponies should be well rubbed down, and fed. "Master was at home; we should find him in the orchard swinging Miss Lucy."

So, instead of entering the house, Tracey, who knew all its ways, took me round to the other side, and we came into one of those venerable orchards which carry the thought back to the early day when the orchard was, in truth, the garden.

A child's musical laugh guided us through the lines of heavy-laden apple-trees to the spot where the once famous prizeman-the once brilliant political thinker-was now content to gratify the instinctive desire tentare aërias vias-in the pastime of an infant.

He was so absorbed in his occupation that he did not hear or observe us till we were close at his side. Then, after carefully arresting the swing, and tenderly taking out the little girl, he shook hands with Percival; and when the ceremony of mutual introduction was briefly concluded, extended the same courtesy to myself.

Gray was a man in the full force of middle life, with a complexion that seemed to have been originally fair and delicate, but had become bronzed and hardened by habitual exposure to morning breezes and noonday suns. He had a clear bright blue eye, and a countenance that only failed of being handsome by that length and straightness of line between nostril and upper lip, which is said by physiognomists to be significant of firmness and deci

;

sion. The whole expression of his face, though frank and manly, was, however, rather sweet than harsh and he had one of those rare voices which almost in themselves secure success to a public speaker-distinct and clear, even in its lowest tone, as a silvery bell.

I think much of a man's nature is shown by the way in which he shakes hands. I doubt if any worldly student of Chesterfieldian manners can ever acquire the art of that everyday salutation, if it be not inborn in the kindness, loyalty, and warmth of his native disposition. I have known many a great man who lays himself out to be popular, who can school his smile. to fascinating sweetness, his voice to persuasive melody, but who chills or steels your heart against him the moment he shakes hands with you.

But there is a cordial clasp which shows warmth of impulse, unhesitating truth, and even power of character-a clasp which recalls the classic trust in the "faith of the right hand."

And the clasp of Hastings Gray's hand at once propitiated me in his favour. While he and I exchanged the few words with which acquaintance commences, Percival had replaced Miss Lucy in the swing, and had taken the father's post. Lucy, before disappointed at the cessation of her amusement, felt now that she was receiving a compliment, which she must not abuse too far; so she very soon, of her own accord, unselfishly asked to be let down, and we all walked back towards the house.

"You will dine with us, I hope," said Gray. "I know when you come at this hour, Sir Percival, that you always meditate giving us that pleasure." (Turning to me,) "It is now half-past three, we dine at four o'clock, and that early hour gives you time to rest, and ride back in the cool of the evening."

"My dear Gray," answered Percival," I accept your invitation for myself and my friend. I foresaw

you would ask us, and left word at home that we were not to be waited for. Where is Mrs Gray?"

"I suspect that she is about some of those household matters which interest a farmer's wife. Lucy, run and tell your mamma that these gentlemen will dine with us."

Lucy scampered off.

"The fact is," said Tracey, "that we have a problem to submit to you. You know how frequently I come to you for a hint when something puzzles me. But we can defer that knotty subject till we adjourn, as usual, to wine and fruit in your summer-house. Your eldest boy is at home for the holidays?"

"Not at home, though it is his holidays. He is now fifteen, and he and a school friend of his are travelling on foot into Cornwall. Nothing, I think, fits boys better for life than those hardy excursions in which they must depend on themselves, shift for themselves, think for themselves."

"I daresay you are right," said Tracey; "the earlier each of us human beings forms himself into an individual God's creature, distinct from the servum pecus, the better chance he has of acquiring originality of mind and dignity of character. And your other children?"

"Oh, my two younger boys I teach at home, and one little girlI play with." Here addressing me, Gray asked "If I farmed?"

"Yes," said I, "but very much as les Rois Fainéants reigned. My bailiff is my Maire du Palais. I hope, therefore, that our friend Sir Percival will not wound my feelings as a lover of Nature by accusing me of wooing her for the sake of her turnips."

"Ah!" said Gray, smiling, "Sir Percival, I know, holds to the doctrine that the only pure love of Nature is the aesthetic; and looks upon the intimate connection which the husbandman forms with her as a cold-blooded mariage de convenance."

"I confess," answered Percival, "that I agree with the great Ger

man philosopher, that the love of Nature is pure in proportion as the delight in her companionship is unmixed with any idea of the gain she can give us. But a pure love may be a very sterile affection; and a mariage de convenance may be prolific in very fine offspring. I concede to you, therefore, that the world is bettered by the practical uses to which Nature has been put by those who wooed her for the sake of her dower: and I no more commend to the imitation of others my abstract æsthetic affection for her abstract aesthetic beauty, than I would commend Petrarch's poetical passion for Laura to the general adoption of lovers. I give you, then, gentlemen farmers, full permission to woo Nature for the sake of her turnips. Our mutton is all the better for it."

a

"And that is no small consideration," said Gray. "If I had gazed on my sheep-walks with the divine æsthetic eye, and without one forethought of the profit they might bring me, I should not already have converted 200 out of the 1000 acres I possess into land that would let at 30s. per acre, where formerly it let at 5s. But, with all submission to the great German philosopher, I don't think I love Nature the less because of the benefits with which she repays the pains I have taken to conciliate her favour. If, thanks to her, I can give a better education to my boys, and secure modest provision for my girl, is it the property of gratitude to destroy or to increase affection? But you see, sir, there is this difference between Sir Percival and myself :He has had no motive in improving Nature for her positive uses, and therefore he has been contented with giving her a prettier robe. He loves her as a grand seigneur loves his mistress. I love her as a man loves the helpmate who assists his toils. According as in rural life my mind could find not repose, but occupation-according as that occupation was compatible with such prudent regard to fortune as a