ters, a piece of which his younger 36 Onslow Square, next door to his daughter (afterwards Mrs. Leslie Ste- friend the sculptor, Baron Marochetti, phen) ventured to pick, without seem- whose bust of the author stands in ing to hear him call out, "Look out, Poets' Corner. From time to time I Minnie, you'll have a proctor after dined with him at this house, and used you!" to meet many celebrities. At one of On his return to London he sent me these dinners, I remember there was a characteristic little note with a sketch" a noble dish" of Bouillabaisse. How of a piece of the college plate in the touching in connection with the writer postscript, and underneath it the words, of them are the closing stanzas of the "How good that cyder-cup was!" On ballad that bears that title! At ananother occasion he dined with the fel- other, given not long after Macaulay's lows of Lincoln, but, being a junior, I death, the conversation turning upon was not near him. He sat next to, and the historian, some one began to speak conversed most with, Mr. Neate, the of him in depreciating language, when member for the city of Oxford, who the host interposed, and would not was unseated for what Thackeray called allow it to go on. He was a giant," I "a twopennyworth of bribery which recollect his crying out. In my diary, he never committed," and whose place for January 5, 1860, I find this entry: he himself attempted unsuccessfully to "Saw W. M. T. in bed this morning. fill, in the Liberal interest, in 1857. He told me of the offer made him to In the autumn of 1858 I went as an continue Macaulay." Writing to me assistant-master to Eton, and from that on December 5 of that year he says: time saw little of the novelist, except-"There's something about Eton in my ing when I was spending part of the new story, in the introduction to one of holidays in town, or when I occasion- the chapters." (It is in chapter ii. of ally recognized with pleasure his cog-"The Adventures of Philip.") It only nita canities, as he came along the says - I hope the name is spelt right— strects, towering above every one else, that "Keate was a thorough gentlestately and benevolent-looking. man." This I had on the word of three Eton men, who had been all fus In the spring of 1859, shortly after I was engaged to be married, I was stay-tigated by Dr. K. ing at Oxford, and received from him the following letter: My dear St. John, May 6. I thought all that hankering about Brompton meant something. I congratu late you with all my heart, and promise you my benediction and a teapot. What can I say more, but that I am yours and your wife's, 66 One day about this time, as I was walking up from Eton to Windsor, I met Provost Hawtrey returning from town, who stopped me and said, “I have just put down your name for the Athenæum, and your cousin will second you." It was extremely kind, as I had never said a word on the subject to either of them. When I came on for election fourteen years later, in 1874, both of these good men had been long dead, and I had to look out for a new proposer and seconder. Had it been otherwise, how greatly would the pleasure of visits to the Palladium, as it is called in the famous "Roundabout Papers ". strange to say on club paper-have been enhanced by such companionship! One other letter, addressed to Sir H. Davison, I give here. It belongs to the period when the success of the Cornhill Magazine had been assured un-cies of work. That work, I feel now, der Thackeray's editorship. It has the ring of a most amusingly jubilant note of triumph 4 May. would have been all the better had I done so. To treasure the priceless friendship of the wise and good, to make the very most of them while they are with us that is the moral that I read in such a retrospect as this. O lieb so lang du lieben kannst! Die Stunde kommt, die Stunde kommt How dy do, my dear old Davus? Read the Cornhill Magazine for May; the article Little Scholars is by my dear old fat Anny. She sends you her love, so does Minny. We're going out to drive. We've got two hosses in our carriage now. The Magazine goes on increasing, and how much do you think my next twelve months' earnings and receipts will be if I work? £10,000. Cockadoodleoodloodle. We are going to spend 4,000 in building a new house on continuation of that passage well exPalace Green, Kensington. We have our health. We have brought Granny and G. P. to live at Brompton Crescent, close by us, and we are my dear old Davus's Faithful, W.M. A.I. & H.M. T. Early in 1862 he moved into the beautiful house built in Queen Anne's style; but he was not destined to enjoy it long. I remember falling in with him in the International Exhibition of Art and Industry held in that year, on the site of what is now Cromwell Road. We walked through some of the courts together, and when we came to one with a gorgeous dinner-table of prodigious length, sparkling with silver-gilt ornaments, and fit only for a banquetingroom in Windsor Castle or Chatsworth, he said, "Supposing you and I, St. John, sat down at either end and ordered each our mutton chop!" On March 10th, 1863, on the occasion of the wedding of the Prince of Wales, I saw him, I think, for the last time. It was on the platform of the Great Western Railway station at Windsor as the crowd of visitors, with their diamonds and court-dresses, looking somewhat ghastly in the broad daylight, was returning by special train to London. He seemed amused at the scene, and pointed out to me several personages of note. presses the contrast between the rela tively brief span of his life and the amount of work he crowded into it. "Et ipse quidem quamquam medio in spatio integræ ætatis ereptus, quantum ad gloriam longissimum ævum peregit." Strange it is to think that if he were now alive he would still be but eightyone, two years younger than Tennyson was when he died, and than Gladstone is now. But I remember his saying to me after finishing one of his books, “I have taken too many crops out of the brain." FRANCIS ST. JOHN THACKERAY. From Good Words. A SCOTSMAN'S ADVENTURES ABROAD. THOMAS THOMPSON he might have been on occasions; Tummas Tamson more commonly if that had been his name at all. But it was another name with which the letter from Gourock ended that informed me, several years ago now, that he was coming to consult me regarding a proposed tour in Palestine. The change of name, however, is the only conscious liberty I mean to take. The record of his travels will be as nearly as possible in his own words. When he presented himself in my On Christmas eve of that year he study I beheld a portly figure, considdied suddenly in the night, in his fifty-erably over six feet in height, an intelthird year. ligent countenance, the head crowned It is one of my chief regrets that I with a sealskin cap, but such a tremdid not make more vigorous effort to bling of the hand grasping the stick see him oftener, in spite of the exigen-as to suggest a tendency to paralysis. He appeared about seventy years of By and by the mosquitoes came in at age. the window, and sic' a nicht as I passed! Never a wink o' sleep, but fleein' after mosquitoes! In the morning, when the lad came to me,”—I noticed that every commissionaire, guide, or dragoman was classified under the title of lad-"he made me see the "Go home to Gourock." "And what for should I do that, folly of opening the window and leaving sir ?" the candle burning, but he gave me "How are you to get up from Jaffa the grandest thing for fleas, mosquito Jerusalem?" I replied. toes, and other cattle. Here it is," pulling out a packet "the Polvere di Persia- -never you travel, doctor, without that. "In a cab, to be sure." "But, my good man, there is not a wheeled conveyance in all Judæa" (it was before the road was completed or the railway thought of). "You must ride on a horse or a donkey.” "Me ride! I couldna sit five minutes on a horse or a cuddy either. But I'm awful keen to see Jerusalem before I die and I mean to do it. And if you'll let me sit down and take up a bit of your time, I'll tell you what I have done in the way of travel already." And so, making him as comfortable as I could, he gave me the story of his adventures up to that time. When entering on his narrative, or when he wandered into some disquisition, he spoke in rather pompous English, but when carried off by some incident he fell into graphic Scotch. men Ye see ye - "Well, the hotel-keeper told me in the morning, Mr. Thomson,' says he, 'you'll die if you stay in this heat. You must be off at once to Chamounix; and off I went. When I got to Chamounix, frail as I am, I managed to do my share o' climbing and crossing planks and bridges. But were you ever at the Ice Grotto ? have to go doon a desperate steep braeface to reach it, but I tellt the lad to turn, and gripping his collar and wi' him in front I got doon fine; and although I was wet wi' the heat afore I went in, I wasna in that Ice Grotto ten minutes before my sark was as stiff as a boord! Then, when I got up to the top of the brae-face, I saw twa gentle- they were colonels, one English and the other American standing looking at me. 'I guess, old boy,' said the American, you have not been doon at the Ice Grotto.' 'I guess I was,' says I, and if ye dinna believe me ye can come wi' me.' Turn roond!' says I to the lad, and I gripped him again, and away I gaed and the Yaukee wi' me. But when we got back, the English colonel, who was standin' as if he had swallowed a bayonet, says to me, 'You are a Hinglishman, if I'm not mistaken?' 'Weel,' says I, 'you are mistaken, for I'm not a Hinglishman but a Scotchman - a better country than your Hingland, which is naethin' but a land o' flats and ditches, and sae unhealthy that the queen has to leave it every year to get some fresh air in the Hielands; and as for your Hina man or a corpse · but I didna' heed. 'glish sodgers,' says I, 'where wad ye "The first time I went abroad was in July, and I went to Turin. The weather then was frightful, for the heat was unbearable. So, when I went to my room at night, I determined to secure some coolness, come what might. The first thing I saw was a notice hanging up, Please lock the door at night.' Naethin' o' the kind,' said I to mysel', and so I opened the window as far as it would gang, and I opened the door to the wall, and I pulled my bed 'tween the door and the window, and then I filled the basin wi' cauld water, and put a' the towels into the water, and lit my candle, and lay doon, and covered mysel' wi' the wet towels from head to foot. The people passing along the passage glowered in at me, wondering, I dare say, whether I was 6 hae been if Wellington had not his Scotchmen to cry Hielandmen to the front!' when ye had eneuch o't and mair?' I believe if that colonel had had his sword he would have put it through me! That was my first trip abroad. 6 ing past, and the roaring o' the volcano, and the great rocks fleein' up in the air! I was not astonished, therefore, when I heard my lady friend sayin', This is the very mouth o' the pit!' and gathering her dress about her, aff she flew back to the station. 'A' richt, madam,' thinks I, but I'll no be cheated o' my pleasure this time.' So I told the guides I was goin' to the other side o' the crater- the windward side. They were very unwillin' to go wi' me, but gang they had to; and certainly I did get to a point where I beheld the most sublime spectacle human eye could see. I was then by mysel', and the twa rascals wi' me were cryin' out that I must leave at once, so in case they might shove me in, an' naebody be the wiser, I told them to turn, and grippin' each o' them by the collar we ran as hard as we could down the soft ashes to the station. When the American lady saw me coming she ran to meet me, and caught both my hands. You are a brave old man,' says she, "I went afterwards to Italy and to Rome. When I was in Rome I was determined to see the pope, but it was then impossible, for Pio Nono was in the dumps about his temporal power, besides being unwell. But I did my best, for I got acquainted with the librarian at the Vatican, and one day I put it plump and plain to him. I wish to see the old cock,' says I, and I think if he kenned that I had been raal kind to Catholic children when I was on the Poor Board in Glasgow, he wad be glad to see me.' But it was no use. However, the librarian gave me this volume, which I have brought to show you, in remembrance of him. Well, there was an American lady in Rome with a black servant girl, that I named Topsy, and the lady and I became ex-and as I saw you coming down with cellent friends, for she was, like myself, up in years, and I was able to be of great use to her. So one morning I of saw in the papers that there had been a | I, fearful earthquake near Naples, and I told her, 'I am going off to Naples, madam, to see the earthquake.' 'I'll go too,' says she; and so off we went by the first train, Topsy and all. When we got to Naples we drove out in a cab to the town where had been the earthquake; and it was certainly a terrible sight to see the holes in the street and the ruined houses, so much so that my friend from America wadna stay another minute, but into the cab we had to hurry. "Next morning I determined to go up Vesuvius, which was in violent eruption. I'll go with you,' said the American. 'Na, na! madam,' says I; ye skedaddled yesterday, and I'll gang by mysel' the day.' However, she promised to behave, and off we went, up the Funicular Railway, and into armchairs at the station, and so were carried to the cone. But such a sight! The thick columus of yellow smoke roll your face glowing, you put me in mind of Moses coming down from the mount God.' 'I'm much obleeged,' says but there's a difference between me and Moses, for Moses cam' down wi' a table of the law in either hand, but I have come wi' a thief in either hand,' and I gave the two scoondrels o' guides a shake. Well, that lady and me travelled together through the most of Italy - for she was an intelligent old woman and greatly enjoyed my stories; besides that, I helped her greatly to see places. 66 However, doctor, there is a lot of wicked gossip in the world, and what did some fool who knew her do but write to her married daughters in America that their mother was on the point of being married a second time. Neither she nor I knew anything of it, but one morning, at Verona, she came to me after breakfast, and, looking very confused, told me that a most awkward thing had happened, and explaining the mischievous gossip, said it had gone such a length that a son-in-law had come all the way from America and was then in the hotel. Send him to and watched her as she went to kneel before the altar. It was a touching sight, for there was a lovely statue of our Lord above the altar, and as she prostrated herself there and I looked at the Christ, I went aside and I prayed to God to comfort her. She then went to the confessional, and her son and I went round the church, he pointing to the votive images of arms and legs. and such like, which represented supposed cures through the intercession of the Virgin. When we were once more in the carriage I said, 'I hope you have received some comfort; but, madam, forgive me if, as an old man At a later date he told me of another and not of your Church, I dare to ask adventure with a widow. He had you why do you go about the world landed the day before at Leghorn, and seeking the altar of this saint or of on going into the breakfast-room of the that madonna? Do you not think that hotel he saw a lady in deep mourning the Saviour who died for you cares sitting at a table with a nice-looking for you more than they all? Why do boy. The lady addressed him in En- you not go to him—who is ever near glish; and he told me how, after a you?' Well, she thanked me much, while, she said, "You see before and on parting she gave me her name you, sir, the most unhappy of women.' and address in Palermo, and made me I am grieved to hear that, madam,' promise to see her if I was ever there. said I. May I ask the cause of your And I did see her; for many months misery? I lost the best of hus- afterwards I went to Palermo and sent bands, and I am broken-hearted; and my card to her address, and in an hour have been going from place to place, or two a grand carriage drove up with and from shrine to shrine, seeking com- the lady's boy in it and two footmen fort, but in vain.' May I ask if your standing behind. I can tell you the husband left you in poverty?' Far people in the hotel did stare when I from it. I am the possessor of much drove off. I found her house a splenwealth.' And is that fine lad your did palace, and she received me in son?' 'He is.' Then, madam,' says a magnificent salon hung with white I, 'you ought to be ashamed of your- silk, and taking me with her to the next self. I have known many a poor woman room where they were at dinner she in Scotland, who had lost as dear a put me next to a priest. Are you husband as you, and was left with help- not afraid,' said he, to sit beside a less children, and not a penny in God's Jesuit?' Not a bit, sir,' said I, for world to feed and clothe them, and yet I hae kent too many Jesuits among thanking God for mercy.' This took ministers in my ain kirk at hame to be her quite aback. After a little she told feared for you or ony respectable-lookme she was that day going to pray in ing gentleman like you.' And so I a church some miles away, and asked spent a most pleasant day." me to go with her. When we reached the church I saw not only that she was expected, but that she must be a person of importance, for the great door of the church was open, and there was a crowd of beggars, and there came shortly afterwards a priest to receive her. I followed her into the church, A year passed before I again saw my old friend. I was then in an open carriage driving down a street in Glasgow, when I heard "Doctor!" from the pavement. "Man, I hae been to Jerusalem!" was shouted almost before I could draw up. And so we arranged for his giving me an early benefit. |