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Modern  Englisli  Writers  II.  i 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  SLANDER 

by 

Edna   Lyal, 

and 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 


Für  den  Schulgebraucli  bearbeitet 

von 

Camilla  Hammond, 

engl.  Leluerin  I.  K.  H.   der  Prinzessin  Pauline  von  Wurtteinliei'; 


Wolfenbüttel. 

i  Verlag  yon  Jnlins   Zwissler. 

^(s^ .  2^:ß  \-.    \\ 


BOOK  STORE 


MILWAUKEE,WIS 


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Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arclnive 

in  2010  witln  funding  from 

Tine  Institute  of  Museum  and  Library  Services  through  an  Indiana  State  Library  LSTA  Grant 


http://www.archive.org/details/autobiographyofsOOIyal 


Modern  English.  "Writers  II. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  A  SLANDER 

Edna  Lyal, 

and 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 


Für  den  Scliiügebrauch  bearbeitet 


Camilla  Hammond, 

engl.  Lehrerin  I.  K.  H.  der  Prinzessin  Pauline  von  Württemberg. 


Wolfenbüttel. 

Verlag  von  Julius   Zwissler. 

1898. 


Vorwort. 

Der  zweite  Band  der  Sammlung  Modern  English  Writers  soll  im 
AnscUnss  an  den  ersten  Band  „Alone  in  London"  oder  an  eine  andere 
leichte  Erzählung  einen  passenden  Lesestoif  für  Knaben-  u.  Mädchen- 
schulen bieten.  Der  erste  Teil  des  Bändchens  ist  eine  etwas  gekürzte 
Wiedergabe  von  „The  Autobiography  of  a  Slander"  von  Edna  Lyal, 
deren  Schriften  mit  Recht  unter  der  englischen  Jugend  sehr  beliebt 
sind.  In  jeder  ihrer  Erzählungen  bemüht  sich  die  Schriftstellerin, 
dem  jugendlichen  Gemüt  irgend  eine  wichtige  Lehre  einzuprägen, 
aber  sie  thut  es  stets  im  Gewände  einer  fesselnden  Erzählung,  ohne 
je  in  einen  lehrhaften  oder  moralisierenden  Ton  zu  verfallen.  In  der 
vorliegenden  Geschichte  zeigt  sie,  wie  durch  einen  ganz  natürlichen 
Zusammenhang  der  Ereignisse  eine  von  einer  an  sich  gutmütigen 
Person  unbedacht  ausgesprochene  Verleumdung,  die  auf  einem  Schein 
von  Wahrheit  ruht,  indem  sie  von  Mund  zu  Mund  geht,  so  anwächst, 
dass  sie  endlich  das  Verderben,  ja  den  Tod  eines  Unschuldigen  her- 
beiführt. Die  Moral  drängt  sich  nirgends  dem  Leser  auf,  aber  da 
sie  in  eine  originelle  und  daher  in  hohem  Masse  interessante  Er- 
zählung eingekleidet  ist.  so  kann  sie  nicht  verfehlen,  einen  tiefen 
Eindruck  auf  das  Gemüt  zu  machen.  Es  ist  zu  wünschen,  dass  der 
edle  Zweck  der  begabten  Verfasserin,  zu  strengster  Wahrhaftigkeit 
zu  erziehen,  durch  eine  möglichst  weite  Verbreitung  der  Erzählung 
unterstützt  werde.  Die  klare  und  wohllautende  Sprache  ist  ein  vor- 
treffliches Muster  des  modernen  englischen  Stils  und  bietet  Schülern, 
die  schon  wenigstens  eine  einfache  englische  Erzählung  gelesen  haben, 
keine  besonderen  Schwierigkeiten. 

Der  zweite  Teil  des  Bändchens  enthält  das  Leben  von  Abraham 
Lincoln  und  wurde  als  die  Arbeit  eines  ungenannten  Verfassers  von 
der  „Society  for  Propagation  of  Christian  Knowledge"  in  London  heraus- 


-     IV    — 

gegeben.  Ein  Charakterbild  dieses  grossen  Präsidenten  der  Vereinigten 
Staaten  Nordamerikas  kann  kaum  anders  als  anziehend  wirken.  Die 
beiden  kurzen  von  der  Herausgeberin  vorausgeschickten  Artikel  sollen 
als  Erklärung  und  Wiederholung  dienen  da,  wo  der  Text  eine  ein- 
gehende Kenntnis  der  Eegierung  der  Vereinigten  Staaten  und  des 
Bürgerkrieges  zur  Abschaffung  der  Sklaverei  voraussetzt,  damit  das 
Ganze  ein  anschauliches  Bild  jener  hochwichtigen  Periode  der  ameri- 
kanischen Geschichte  giebt,  wo  durch  die  Festigkeit  und  Thatkraft 
eines  Mannes  die  Union  vor  Auflösung  gerettet  und  ein  ganzes 
Volk  von  dem  Fluch  der  Sklaverei  erlöst  wurde. 

Die  auch  diesem  Bändcheh  beigegebenen  Anmerkungen  und  das 
Wörterbuch  werden  die  Verwendung  erleichtern.  Von  einer  Angabe 
der  AussJ)rache  ist  dabei  abgesehen  worden,  einmal  weil  es  für  Schüler 
bestimmt  ist,  die  schon  eine  allgemeine  Kenntnis  der  Sprache  be- 
sitzen und  dann,  weil  es  unter  der  Voraussetzung  bearbeitet  ist, 
dass  es  in  Schulen  unter  Leitung  des  Lehrers  geleseii  wird,  und  dass 
alle  neuen  Lautverbindungen  v  o  r  der  häuslichen  Präparation  in  der 
Klasse  korrekt  gehört  und  eingeübt  werden. 

Stuttgart,  im  Januar  1898,    ,,;       ,      ^ 

Camilla  HaniMOnd. 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander. 


MY  FIRST  STAGE. 

"At  last  tlie  tea  came  up,  and  so 
With  that  our  tongues  began  to  g'O. 
Now  in  that  house  you're  sure  of  knowing 
The  smallest  scrap  of  news  that's  going. 
We  find  it  there  the  wisest  way 
To  take  some  care  of  what  we  say." 

Jane  Taylor,    Recreation. 

I  was  born  on  the  2^^^  September  1886,  in  a  small, 
dull,  country  town.  When  I  say  the  town  was  dull,  I  mean 
of  course  that  the  inhabitants  were  unenterprising,  for  in 
itself  Muddleton  was  a  picturesque  place,  and  though  it 
laboured  under  the  usual  disadvantage  of  a  dearth  of  5 
bachelors  and  a  superfluity  of  spinsters,  it  might  have 
been  pleasant  enough  had  it  not  been  a  favourite  resort 
for  my  kith  and  kin. 

I  was  introduced  into  the  world  by  an  old  lady  nam- 
ed  Mrs.    O'Reilly.    She   was  a  very  pleasant  old  lady,  10 
the  wife  of  a  General,  and  one  of  those  sociable,  friendlj', 
talkative  people  who  do  much  to  cheer  their  neighbours, 

II  1 


2  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

particularly    in    a   deadly-lively    provincial    place    like 
Muddleton. 

Mrs.  O'Eeilly  had  been  in  lier  day  a  celebrated  beauty ; 
she  was  now  grey-haired  and  stout,  but  there  was  still 
5  something-  impressive  about  her,  and  few  could  resist  the 
charm  of  her  manner  and  the  pleasant  easy  flow  of  her  small 
talk.  Her  love  of  gossip  amounted  almost  to  a  passion, 
and  nothing  came  amiss  to  her ;  she  liked  to  know  every- 
thing about  everj^body,   and  in  the  main  I  think  her 

10  interest  was  a  kindly  one,  though  she  found  that  a  little 
bit  of  scandal,  every  now  and  then,  added  a  piquant 
flavour  to  the  homel}^  fare  provided  by  the  commonplace 
life  of  the  Muddletonians. 

I    will   now,   without  further   preamble,    begin   the 

15  history  of  my  life. 

"I  assure  you,  my  dear  Lena,  Mr.  Zaluski  is  nothing 
less  than  a  Nihilist!" 

With  these  words  I  sprang  into  being,  a  young  but 
20  most  promising  slander.   A  delicious  odour  of  tea  pervad- 
ed the  drawing-room,  and  Mrs  O'Reilly  was  just  handing 
one  of  the  delicate  Crown  Derby  cups   to   her  visitor, 
Miss  Lena  Houghton. 

"What  a  shocking  thing!   Do  you  really  mean  it?" 
25  exclaimed  Miss  Houghton.     "Thank  you,   cream  but  no 
sugar;   don't  you  know,  Mrs.  O'Reilly,   that  it  is  only 
Low-Church  people  who  take  sugar  nowadays  ?  But  really 
now,  about  Mr.  Zaluski?    How  did  you  find  it  out? 
"My  dear,  I  am  an  old  woman,  and  I  have  learnt  in 
30  the  course  of  a  wandering  life  to   put  two  and  two  to- 
gether," said  Mrs.  O'Reilly.    She  had  somehow  managed 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  3 

to  ignore  middle  age ,  and  had  passed  from  her  position 
of  renowned  beauty  to  the  position  which  she  now  firmly 
and  constantly  claimed  of  many  years  and  much  expe- 
rience. "Of  course,"  she  continued,  "like  every  one  else, 
I  was  glad  enough  to  be  friendly  and  pleasant  to  Sigis-  5 
mund  Zaluski,  and  as  to  his  being  a  Pole,  why,  I  think 
it  rather  pleased  me  than  otherwise.  You  see,  my  dear, 
I  have  knocked  about  the  world  and  mixed  with  all 
kinds  of  people.  Still  one  must  draw  the  line  some- 
where, and  I  confess  it  gave  me  a  very  painful  shock  to  10 
find  that  he  had  such  violent  antipathies  to  law  and  order. 
When  he  took  Ivy  Cottage  for  the  summer  I  made  the 
General  call  at  once,  and  before  long  we  had  become 
very  intimate  with  him;  but,  my  dear,  he's  not  what  I 
thought  him  —  not  at  all!"  "Well  now,  I  am  delighted  15 
to  hear  you  say  that,"  said  Lena  Houghton,  with  some 
excitement  in  her  manner,  "for  it  exactly  fits  in  with  what 
I  always  felt  about  him.  From  the  first  I  disliked  that 
man,  and  the  way  he  goes  on  with  Gertrude  Morley  is 
simply  dreadful.  If  they  are  not  engaged  they  ought  to  20 
be  —  that's  all  I  can  say." 

"Engaged,  my  dear !  I  trust  not,"  said  Mrs.  O'Eeilly. 
"I  had  always  hoped  for  something  very  different  for  dear 
Gertrude.  Quite  between  ourselves,  you  know,  do  you 
not  think  my  nephew  John  Carew  and  she  would  make  25 
a  very  good  pair?"  "Well,  you  see,  I  like  Gertrude  to 
a  certain  extent,"  replied  Lena  Houghton.  "But  I  never 
raved  about  her  as  so  many  people  do.  Still  I  hope  she 
will  not  marry  Mr.  Zaluski;  she  deserves  a  better  fate 
than  that."  30 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Mrs.  O'Eeilly  with  a 

1* 


4  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

troubled  look.  "But  this  is  the  first  I  have  heard  of  it. 
I  can't  think  how  it  has  escaped  my  notice." 

"Nor  I,   for  indeed  he  is  up  at  the  Morley's  pretty 

nearly  every  day.    What  with  tennis,  and  music,  and 

5  riding,  there  is  always  some  excuse  for  it.    I  can't  think 

what  Gertrude  sees  in  him,  he  is  not  even  good-looking." 

"There  is  a  certain  surface  good-nature  about  him," 
said  Mrs.  O'Eeilly.  "It  deceived  even  me  at  first.  But, 
my  dear  Lena,  mark  my  words :  that  man  has  a  fearful 
10  temper ;  and  I  pray  Heaven  that  poor  Gertrude  may  have 
her  eyes  opened  in  time.  Besides,  to  think  ot  that  little, 
gentle,  delicate  thing  marrying  a  Nihilist!  It  is  too 
dreadful;  really,  quite  too  dreadful!" 

"The  thing  I  can't  understand  is  why  all  the  world 
15  has  taken  him  up  so,"  said  Lena  Houghton.  "One  meets 
him  everywhere,  yet  nobody  seems  to  know  anything 
about  him.  Just  because  he  has  taken  Ivy  Cottage  for 
four  months,  and  because  he  seems  to  be  rich  and  good- 
natured,  every  one  is  ready  to  run  after  him." 

20  "Well,  well,"  said  Mrs.  O'Eeilly,  "we  all  like  to  be 

neighbourly,  my  dear,  and  a  week  ago  I  should  have  been 
ready  to  say  nothing  but  good  of  him.  But  now  my  eye 
have  been  opened.  I'll  tell  you  just  how  it  was.  We  were 
sitting  here,  just  as  you  and  I  are  noAV,  at  afternoon  tea ; 

25  the  talk  had  flagged  a  little ,  and  for  the  sake  of  some- 
thing to  say  I  made  some  remark  about  Bulgaria  —  not 
that  I  really  know  anything  about  it,  you  know,  for  I'm 
no  politician;  still,  I  knew  it  was  a  subject  that  would 
make  talk  just  now.   My  dear,  I  assure  you  I  was  posi- 

30  tively  frightened.   All  in  a  minute  his  face  changed,  his 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  5 

eyes  flashed,  lie  broke  into  such  a  torrent  of  abuse  as 
I  never  heard  in  my  life  before." 

"Do  you  mean  that  he  abused  you?" 

"Dear  me,,  no !   But  Eussia  and  the  Czar,  and  tyranny 
and  despotism,  and  many  other  things  I  had  never  heard   5 
of.    I  tried  to  calm  him  down  and  reason  with  him,  but 
I  might  as  well  have  reasoned  with  the  cockatoo  in  the 
window.    At  last  he  caught  himself  up  quickly  in  the 
middle  of  a  sentence,  strode  over  to  the  piano,  and  began 
to  play,  as  he  generally  does,  you  know,  when  he  comes  10 
here.    Well,  would  you  believe  it,  my  dear!  instead  of 
improvising  or  playing  operatic  airs  as  usual,  he  began 
to  play  a  stupid  little  tune  which  every  child  was  taught 
years  ago,  of  course  with  variations  of  his  own.    Then  he 
turned  round  on  the  music-stool  with  the  oddest  smile  I  15 
ever  saw,  and  said,  "Do  you  know  that  air,  Mrs.  O'Eeilly  ?" 

"  'Yes,'  I  said ;  'but  I  forget  now  what  it  is.' " 

"'It  was  composed  by  Pestal,  one  of  the  victims  of 
Russian  tyranny,'  said  he.  'The  executioner  did  his  work 
badly,  and  Pestal  had  to   be  strung  up  twice.    In  the  20 
interval  he  was  heard  to  mutter,  'Stupid  country,  where 
they  don't  even  know  how  to  hang!" 

"Then  he  gave  a  little  forced  laugh,  got  up  quickly, 
wished  me  good-bye,  and  was  gone  before  I  could  put  in 
a  word."  25 

"What  a  horrible  story  to  tell  in  a  drawing-room." 
said  Lena  Houghton.    "I  envy  Gertrude  less  than  ever." 

"Poor  girl !  What  a  sad  prospect  for  her !"  said  Mrs. 
O'Reilly,  with  a  sigh.  "Of  course,  my  dear,  you'll  not 
repeat  what  I  have  just  told  you."  30 

"Not  for  the  world!"  said  Lena  emphatically. 


6  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

"It  is  perfectly  safe  with  me." 
The  conversation  was  here  abruptly  ended,   for  the 
page  threw  open  the  drawing-room  door  and  announced 
"Mr.  Zaluski". 
5  "Talk  of  the  angel,"  murmured  Mrs.  O'Reilly  mth 

a  significant  smile  at  her  companion.  Then  skillfully 
altering  the  expression  of  her  face,  she  beamed  graciously 
on  the  guest  who  was  ushered  into  the  room,  and  Lena 
Houghton  also  prepared  to  greet  him  most  pleasantly. 

10  I  looked   with  much  interest  at  Sigismund  Zaluski 

and  as  I  looked  I  partly  understood  why  Miss  Houghton 
had  been  prejudiced  against  him  at  first  sight.  He  had 
lived  five  years  in  England,  and  nothing  pleased  him 
more  than  to  be  taken  for  an  Englishman.    He  had  had 

15  his  silky  black  hair  cropped  in  the  very  hideous  fashion 
of  the  present  day ;  and  he  tried  to  be  English  in  every 
respect.  But  in  spite  of  his  fluent  speech  and  almost  per- 
fect accent,  there  lingered  something  about  him  that 
would  not  harmonise  with  that  ideal  of  an  English  gentle- 

20  man  which  is  latent  in  most  minds. 

He  was  a  little  above  the  average  height  and  very 
finely  built;  but  there  was  nothing  striking  about  his 
features,  and  I  think  Miss  Houghton  spoke  truly  when  she 
said  that  he  was  "not  even  good-looking".    Still,  in  spite 

25  of  this,  it  was  a  face  that  grevf  upon  most  people ,   and 

I  felt  the  least  little  bit  of  regret  as  I  looked  at  him, 

because  I  knew  I  should  persistently  haunt  and  harass 

him,  and  should  do  all  that  could  be  done  to  spoil  his  life. 

Apparently  he  had  forgotten  all  about  Russia   and 

30  Bulgaria,  for  he  looked  radiantly  happy. 

"How  delightful  and  home-like  your  room  alwyas 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  7 

looks!"  he  exclaimed,  taking  the  cup  of  tea  which  Mrs. 
O'Eeilly  handed  to  him.  "I  am  horribly  lonely  at  Ivy 
Cottage.    This  house  is  a  sort  of  oasis  in  the  desert." 

''Why,   you  are  hardly   ever  at  home,   I  thought," 
said  Mrs.  O'Eeilly  smiling.     "You  are  the  lion  of  the   5 
neighbourhood  just  now ;  and  I'm  sure  it  is  very  good  of 
you  to  come  in  and  cheer  a  lonely  old  woman.    Are  you 
going  to  play  me  something  more  lively  to-daj^?" 

He  laughed. 

"Ah!    Poor  Pestal!    I  had  forgotten  all  about  our  lO 
last  meeting." 

„You  were  very  much  excited  that  day,"  said  Mrs. 
O'Reilly.     "I  had  no  idea  that  your  political  notions  — " 

He  interrupted  her. 

"Ah !  no  politics  to-day,  dear  Mrs.  O'Eeilly.    Let  us  15 
have  nothing  but  enjoyment  and  harmony.    See,  now,  I 
will  play  you  something  very  much  more  cheerful." 

And  sitting  down  to  the  piano  he  played  the  Bridal 
March  from  "Lohengrin",  then  wandered  off  into  an  im-, 
provised  air,  and  finally  treated  them  to  some  recollec-  20 
tions  of  the  "Mikado". 

Lena  Houghton  watched  him  thoughtfully  as  she  put 
on  her  gloves ;  he  was  playing  with  great  spirit,  and  the 
words  of  the  opera  rang  in  her  ears:  — 

"For  he's  going-  to  marry  Yum-ynm,  Yiim-yum,  25 

And  so  you  had  better  be  dumb,  dumb,  dumb!" 

I   knew  very  well  that  she  would  not  follow  this 
moral  advice,  and  I  laughed  to  myself  because  the  whole 
scene  was  such  a  hollow  mockery.    The  placid,  benevo- 
lent-looking old  lady  leaning  back  in  her  arm-chair;  the  30 
girl  in  her  blue  gingham  and  straw  hat  preparing  to  go 


8  Modem  English  Writers  II. 

to  the  afternoon  service ;  the  happy  lover  entering-  heart 
and  soul  into  Sullivan's  charming  music ;  the  pretty  room 
with  its  Chippendale  furniture,  its  aesthetic  hangings, 
its  bowls  of  roses;  and  the  sound  of  church-bells  wafted 
through  the  open  window  on  the  soft  summer  breeze. 

5  Yet  I  had  been  introduced  into  the  world,  and  even  if 
Mrs.  O'Eeilly  had  been  willing  to  admit  to  herself  that 
she  had  broken  the  ninth  commandment,  and  had  ear- 
nestly desired  to  recall  me,  all  her  tears  and  sighs  and 
regrets  would  have  availed  nothing ;  so  true  is  the  saying, 

10  „Of  thy  word  unspoken  thou  art  master;  thy  spoken 
word  is  master  of  thee." 

"Thank  you."     "Thank  you."     "How  I  envy  your 
power  of  playing!" 

The  two  ladies  seemed  to  vie  with  each   other  in 

15  making  pretty  speeches,  and  Zaluski,  who  loved  music 

and  loved  giving  pleasure,  looked  really  pleased.    I  am 

sure  it  did  not  enter  his  head  that  his  two   companions 

were  not  sincere,  or  that  they  did  not  wish  him  well. 

Undoubtedly  he  was  seeing  blissful  visions  of  the 

20  future  all  the  time  that  he  replied  to  the  pretty  speeches 
and  shook  hands  with  Lena  Houghton ,  and  opening  the 
drawing-room  door  for  her,  took  out  his  watch  to  assure 
her  that  she  had  plenty  of  time  and  need  not  hurry  to 
church. 

25  Poor  Zaluski!    He  looked  so  kindly  and  pleasant. 

Though  I  was  only  a  slander,  and  might  have  been 
supposed  to  have  no  heart  at  all,  I  did  feel  sorry  for 
him  when  I  thought  of  the  future,  and  of  the  grief  and 
pain  that  would  persistently  dog  his  steps. 


AutobiogTaphy  of  a  Slander. 


MY    SECOND    STAGE. 

"Bear  not  false  witness,  slander  not,  nor  lie; 
"Truth  is  the  speech  of  inward  purity." 

Light  of  Asia. 

In  my  first  stage  the  reader  will  perceive  that  I  5 
was  a  comparatively  weak  and  harmless  little  slander.  But 
I  developed  with  great  rapidity;  and  I  believe  men  of 
science  will  tell  you  that  this  is  always  the  case  with 
low  organisms.  That  for  instance,  while  it  takes  years 
to  develope  the  man  from  the  baby  and  months  to  deve-  10 
lope  the  dog  from  the  puppy,  the  baby  monad  will  grow 
to  maturity  in  an  hour. 

Personally  I  should  have  preferred  to  linger  in  Mrs. 
O'Reilly's  pleasant  drawing-room,  for,  as  I  said  before,  my 
victim  interested  me,  and  I  wanted  to  observe  him  more  15 
closely,  but  I  received  orders  to  attend  evensong  at  the 
parish  church,  and  to  haunt  the  mind  of  Lena  Houghton. 
As  we  passed  down  the  High  Street  the  bells  rang 
out  loud  and  clear,  and  they  made  me  feel  the  same  slight 
sense  of  discomfort  that  I  had  felt  when  I  looked  at  Za-  20 
luski ;  however,  I  went  on,  and  soon  entered  the  church. 
It  was  a  fine  old  Gothic  building,  and  the  afternoon 
sunshine  seemed  to  flood  the  whole  place ;  even  the  white 
stones  in  the  aisle  were  glorified  here  and  there  with 
gorgeous  patches  of  colour  from  the  stained  glass  Avindows.  25 
But  the  strange  stillness  and  quiet  oppressed  me ,  I  did 
not  feel  nearly  so  much  at  home  as  in  Mrs.  O'ReiUy's 
drawing-room  —  to  use  a  terrestrial  simile,  I  felt 
like  a  fish  out  of  water. 


10  Modem  English  Writers  II. 

For  some  time  I  could  find  no  entrance  into  the  mind 

of  Lena  Houghton.    Try  as  I  would,  I  could  not  distract 

her  attention  or  gain  the  slightest  hold  upon  her,  and  I 

really  believe  I  should  have  been  altogether  baffled,  had 

5  not  the  rector  unconsciously  come  to  my  aid. 

All  through  the  prayers  and  psalms  I  had  fought  a 
desperate  fight  without  gaining  a  single  inch.  Then  the 
rector  walked  over  to  the  lectern,  and  the  moment  he 
began    to  read  I  knew  there  was  a  fair  chance  of  vic- 

10  tory  before  me.  Some  clergymen  seem  to  have  the  notion 
that  the  Bible  must  be  read  in  a  drear}^  and  unnatural 
tone  of  voice,  or  with  a  sort  of  mournful  monotony.  Lena 
Houghton's  attention  could  only  have  been  given  to  the 
drearily  read  chapter  by  a  very  great  effort,  and  she  was 

15  a  little  lazy  and  did  not  make  the  effort.  I  promptly 
seized  my  opportunity,  and  in  a  moment  her  mind  was 
full  of  me.  She  was  an  excitable,  impressionable  sort  of 
girl,  and  when  once  I  had  gained  an  entrance  into  her 
mind  I  found  it  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  dom- 

20  inate  her  thoughts.  During  all  the  rest  of  the  service 
her  mind  was  occupied  with  terrible  possibilities,  with 
unhappy  marriages,  and  with  Russia  and  Nihilism,  and 
by  the  time  it  came  to  an  end  I  had  brought  her  into 
exactly  the  condition  I  desired. 

25  The  congregation  rose.    Lena  Hougthon,  still  domi- 

nated by  me,  knelt  longer  than  the  rest,  but  at  last  she 
got  up  and  walked  down  the  aisle,  and  I  felt  a  great 
sense  of  relief  and  satisfaction.  We  were  out  in  the 
open  air  once  more,   and  I  had  triumphed;   I  was  quite 

30  sure  she  would  tell  the  first  person  she  saw,  for,  as  I 
have  said  before,  she  was  entirely  taken  up  with  me,  and 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  11 

to  have  kept  me  to  herself  would  have  required  far  more 
strength  and  unselfishness  than  she  at  that  moment  pos- 
sessed. She  walked  slowly  through  the  churchyard,  feeling 
much  pleased  to  see  that  the  curate  had  just  left  the 
vestry  door,  and  that  in  a  few  moments  their  paths  5 
must  converge. 

Mr.  Blackthorne  was  a  little  younger,  and  much  less 
experienced  in  the  ways  of  the  world  than  Sigismund  Zaluski. 
He  was  a  good,  well-meaning  fellow,  a  little  narrow,  a  little 
prejudiced,  a  little  spoiled  by  the  devotion  of  the  district  10 
visitors  and  Sunday-school  teachers;  but  he  was  honest 
and  energetic,  and  as  a  worker  among  the  poor  few  could 
have  equalled  him.  He  seemed  to  fancy,  however,  that 
with  the  poor  his  work  ended,  and  he  was  not  always 
as  wise  as  he  might  have  been  in  Muddleton  society.       15 

"Good  afternoon,  Miss  Houghton,"  he  exclaimed,  "Do 
3^ou  happen  to  know  if  your  brother  is  at  home."  I  want 
just  to  speak  to  him  about  the  choir  treat." 

"Oh,  he  is  sure  to  be  in  by  this  time,"  said  Lena. 
And  they  walked  home  together.  20 

"I  am  so  glad  to  have  this  chance  of  speaking  to 
you,"  she  began  rather  nervously.  "I  wanted  particularly 
to  ask  your  advice." 

Mr.  Blackthorne,  being  human  and  young,  was  not 
unnaturally  flattered  by  this  remark.  "Was  it  anything  25 
about  your  district?"  he  asked,  devoutly  hoping  she  was 
not  going  to  propound  some  difficult  question  about  the 
origin  of  evil,  or  some  other  obscure  subject.  For  though 
he  liked  the  honour  of  being  consulted,  he  did  not  always 
like  the  trouble  it  involved,  and  he  remembered  with  a  3® 


12  Modern  Eiigiish  Writers  II. 

shudder  that  Miso  Houghton  had  ouce  asked  him  liis  opin- 
ion about  the  Ethical  Concept  of  the  Good". 

"It  was  only  that  I  was  so  troubled  about  something- 
Mrs.  O'Reilly  has  just   told  me,"  said  Lena   Houghton. 
5  "You  won't  tell  any  one  that  I  told  you  ?" 

"On  no  account,"  said  the  curate  warmly. 

"Well,  you  know  Mr.  Zaluski,  and  how  the  Morleys 
have  taken  him  up?" 

"Everyone  has  taken  him  up,"  said  the  curate,  with 
10  the  least  little  touch  of  resentment  in  his  tone.    "I  knew 
that  the  Morleys  were  his  special  friends;  I  imagine  he 
admires  Miss  Morley." 

"Yes,  every  one  thinks  they  are  engaged  or  on  the 
brink  of  it.    And,    oh,   Mr.  Blackthorne,   can't   you   or 
15  somebody  put  a  stop  to  it,  for  it  seems  such  a  dreadful 
fate  for  poor  Gertrude?" 

The  curate  looked  startled. 

"Why,  I  don't  profess  to  like  Mr.  Zaluski,"  he  said. 

"But  I  don't  know  anything  exactly  against  him." 
20  "But  I  do.    Mrs.  O'Reilly  has  just  been  telling  me." 

"What   did  she   tell   you?"    he    asked   with   some 
curiosity. 

"Why,  she  has  found  out  that  he  is  really  a  Nihil- 
ist —  just  think  of  a  Nihilist  going  about  loose  like 
25  this,  and  playing  tennis  at  the  rectory  and  all  the  good 
houses !  And  not  only  that,  but  she  says  he  is  altogether 
a  dangerous,  unprincipled  man,  with  a  dreadful  temper. 
You  can't  think  how  unhappy  she  is  about  poor  Gertrude, 
and  so  am  I,  for  we  were  at  school  together  and  have 
30  always  been  friends." 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  about  it,"  said  Mr.  Black- 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  13 

thorne,  "but  I  don't  see  that  anything  can  be  done.  You 
see,  one  does  not  like  to  interfere  in  these  sort  of  things. 
It  seems  officious  rather,  and  meddlesome." 

"Yes,  that  is  the  worst   of  it,"  she  replied,  with  a 
sigh.     "I  suppose  we  can  do  nothing.    Still,  it  has  been  5^ 
a  great  relief  just  to  tell  you  about  it  and  get  it  off"  my 
mind.    I  suppose  we  can  only  hope  that  something  may 
put  a  stop  to  it  all  —  we  must  just  leave  it  to  chance." 

This  sentiment  amused  me  not  a  little.  Leave  it  to 
chance  indeed !  Had  she  not  caused  me  to  grow  stronger  10 
and  larger  by  every  word  she  uttered?  And  had  not 
the  conversation  revealed  to  me  Mr.  Blackthorne's  one 
vulnerable  part?  I  knew  well  enough  that  I  should 
be  able  to  dominate  his  thoughts  as  I  had  done  hers.  Find- 
ing me  burdensome,  she  had  passed  me  on  to  somebody  15 
else  with  additions  that  vastly  increased  my  working 
powers,  and  then  she  talked  of  leaving  it  to  chance! 
The  way  in  which  mortals  practise  pious  frauds  on  them- 
selves is  really  delightful!  And  yet  Lena  Houghton  was 
a  good  sort  of  girl,  and  had  from  her  childhood  repeated  ao 
the  catechism  words  which  proclaim  that  "My  duty 
to  my  neighbour  is  to  love  him  as  myself ....  "To  keep 
my  tongue  from  evil  —  speaking,  lying,  and  slandering." 
What  is  more  she  took  great  pains  to  teach  these  words  25 
to  a  big  class  of  Sunday  school  children,  and  went 
rain  or  shine,  to  spend  two  hours  each  Sunday  in  a  stuffy 
schoolroom  for  that  purpose.  It  was  strange  that  she 
should  be  so  ready  to  believe  evil  of  her  neighboui% 
and  so  eager  to  spread  the  story.  30 


14  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

MY  THIED  STAGE. 

"Alas !  such  is  onr  weakness,  that  we  often  more 
reaclil}^  believe  and  speak  of  another  that  which  is  evil 
than  that  which  is  good.  But  perfect  men  do  not  easily 
5  give  credit  to  every  report;   because  5  they  know  man's 

weakness ,  which  is  very  prone  to  evil,  and  very  subject 
to  fail  in  words."  Thomas  ä  Kempis. 

All  through  that  evening-,  and  trough  the  first  part 
of  the  succeeding  day,  I  was  crowded  out  of  the  curate's 

10  mind  hj  a  host  of  thoughts  with  which  I  had  nothing  in 
common;  and  though  I  hovered  about  him  as  he  taught 
in  the  school,  and  visited  several  sick  people,  and  worked 
at  his  Sunday  sermon,  a  Power  which  I  felt  but  did  not 
understand,  baffled  all  my  attempts  to  gain  an  entrance 

15  and  attract  his  notice.  I  made  a  desperate  attack  on 
him  after  lunch  as  he  sat  smoking  and  enjoying  a  well- 
earned  rest,  but  it  was  of  no  avail.  I  followed  him  to 
a  large  garden-party  later  on,  but  to  my  great  annoy- 
ance he  went  about  talking  to  every  one  in  the  pleasant- 
est  way  imaginable,   though  I  perceived  that  he  was 

20  longing  to  play  tennis  instead. 

At  length,  however,  my  opportunity  came.  Mr.  Black- 
thorne  was  talking  to  the  lady  of  the  house,  Mrs.  Cour- 
tenay,  when  she  suddenly  exclaimed  — 

25  "Ah,  here  is  Mr.  Zaluski  just  arriving.    I  began  to 

be  afraid  he  had  forgotten  the  day,  and  he  is  always 
such  an  acquisition.  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Zaluski?"  she 
said,  greeting  my  victim  warmly  as  he  stepped  on  to  the 
terrace.     "So  glad  you  were  able  to  come.    You  know 

30  Mr.  Blackthorne,  I  think." 


Aiitobiograpliy  of  a  Slander.  15 

Zaluski  greeted  the  curate  pleasantly,  and  liis  dark 
eyes  lighted  up  with  a  gleam  of  amusement. 

"Oh,  we  are  great  friends,"  he  said  laughingly. 
"Only,  you  know,  I  sometimes  shock  him  a  little  —  just  a 
A^ery  little."  5 

"That  is  very  unkind  of  you,  I  am  sure,"  said  Mrs. 
Courtenay,  smiling. 

"No,  not  at  all,"  said  Zaluski,  with  the  audacity  of 
a  pri^dleged  being."  It  is  just  my  little  amusement,  yery 
harmless,  very  —  what  you  call  innocent.  Mr.  Blackthorne  10 
cannot  make  up  his  mind  about  me.  One  day  I  appear 
to  him  to  be  Catholic,  the  next  Orthodox  Greek,  the  next 
a  convert  to  the  Anglican  Communion.  I  am  a  mystery, 
you  see!  And  mysteries  are  as  indispensable  in  life  as 
in  a  romance."  15 

He  laughed.  Mrs.  Courtenay  laughed  too,  and  a 
little  friendly  banter  was  carried  on,  while  the  curate 
stood  by  feeling  rather  out  of  it. 

I  drew  nearer  to  him  feeling  my  prospects  bid  fair 
to  improve.    Few  people  can  feel  out  of  it  without  being  20 
driven  into  a  self-regarding  mood,  and  then  they  are  the 
easiest  prey  imaginable.    Undoubtedly  a  man  like  Zaluski, 
with  his  easy  nonchalance,  his  knowledge  of  the  world, 
his  genuine  good-nature,  and  the  background  of  sterling 
qualities  which  came  upon  you  as  a  surprise  because  he  25 
loved  to  make  himself  seem  a  mere  idler,  was  apt  to 
eclipse  an  ordinary  mortal  like  James  Blackthorne.    The 
curate  perceived  this  and  did  not  like  to  be  eclipsed  — 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  nobody  does.    It  seemed  to  him  a 
little  unfair  that  he  who  had  hitherto  been  made  so  much  30 
of,  should  have  to  play  second  fiddle  to  this  rich  Polish 


16  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

fellow  who  had  never  done  anything-  for  Muddleton  or 
the  neighbourhood.  And  then  too  Sigismund  Zaluski 
had  a  waj^  of  poking  fun  at  him  that  he  did  not  take 
in  good  part. 
5  Something  of  this  began  to  stir  in  his  mind;  and 
he  cordially  hated  the  Pole  when  Jim  Courtenay ,  who 
arranged  the  tennis,  came  up  and  asked  him  to  play  in 
the  next  set,  passing  the  curate  by  altogether. 

Then  I  found  no  difficulty  at  all  in  taking  possession 

10  of  him ;  indeed  he  seemed  delighted  to  have  me  brought 
back  to  his  memory,  and  I  grew  apace. 

Zaluski,  full  of  happiness,  was  playing  with  Gertrude 
Morley,  and  his  play  was  so  good  and  so  graceful  that 
everyone  was  watching  it  with  pleasure.    His  partner, 

15  too,  played  well ;  she  was  a  pretty,  fair-haired  girl,  with 
soft  grey  eyes  like  the  eyes  of  a  dove ;  she  wore  a  white 
tennis  dress  and  a  white  sailor  hat,  and  at  her  throat 
she  had  fastened  a  cluster  of  beautiful  orange-coloured 
roses. 

20  If  Mr.  Blackthorne  grew  angry  as  he  watched  Sigis- 

mund Zaluski,  he  grew  doubly  angry  as  he  watclied 
Gertrude  Morley.  He  said  to  himself  that  it  was  into- 
lerable that  such  a  girl  should  fall  a  prey  to  a  vain, 
shallow,  unprincipled  foreigner,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he 

25  had  painted  such  a  dark  picture  of  poor  Sigismund  that 
my  strength  increased  tenfold. 

"Mr.  Blackthorne,"  said  Mr.  Courtenay,  "would  you 
take  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave  to  have  an  ice?" 

Now  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave  had  always  been  one  of  the 

30  curate's  great  friends.  She  was  a  very  pleasant,  talkative 
woman  of  six-and-thirty ,  and  a  general  favourite.    Her 


Autobiograpliy  of  a  Slander.  17 

popularitj^  was  well  deserved,  for  she  was  always  ready 
to  do  a  kind  action,  and  often  went  out  of  her  way  to 
help  people  who  had  not  the  slightest  claim  upon  her. 
There  was,  however,  no  repose  about  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave, 
and  her  universal  readiness  to  help  was  caused  to  some  5 
extent  by  her  good  heart,  but  in  a  large  degree  by  a 
want  of  sufficient  employment  in  her  own  home  for  her 
over-active  mind.  Her  sphere  was  scarcely  large  enough 
for  her,  she  would  have  made  an  excellent  head  of  an 
orphan  asylum  or  manager  of  some  large  institution,  but  10 
her  quiet  country  life  offered  too  narrow  a  field  for  her 
energy. 

"It  is  really  quite  a  treat  to  watch    Mr.  Zaluski's 
play,"  she  remarked  as  they  walked  to  the  refreshment 
tent  at  the  other  end  of  the  lawn."   Certainly  foreigners  15 
know  how  to  move  much  better  than  we  do ;  our  best 
players  look  quite  awkward  beside  them." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  said  Mr.  Blackthorne. 

"I  am  afraid  I  am  full  of  prejudice,  and  consider  that 
no  one  can  equal  a  true-born  Briton."  20 

"I  quite  agree  with  you  in  the  main,"  said  Mrs.  Milton- 
Cleave.  "Though  I  must  confess.  I  like  to  have  a  little 
variety." 

The  curate  was  silent,  but  that  was  because  his 
thoughts  were  entirely  occupied  by  me.    I  began  to  exer-  25 
eise  a  faint  influence  through  his  mind  on  the  mind  of 
his  companion.    This  caused  her  to  say  — 

"I  don't  think  you  quite  like  Mr.  Zaluski.  Do  you 
know  much  about  him?" 

"I  have  met  him  several  times  this  summer,"  said  30 
II  2 


18  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

the  curate,  in  the  tone  of  one  who  could  have  said  much 
more  if  he  would. 

The  less  satisfying  his  replies  were,  the  more  Mrs. 

Milton-Cleave's  curiosity  grew.     "Now,  tell  me  candidly," 

5  she  said  at  length.     "Is  there  not  some  mystery  about 

our  new  neighbour?    Is  he  quite  what  he  seems  to  be?" 

"I  am  afraid  he  is  not,"  said  Mr.  Blackthorne,  making* 

the  admission  in  a  tone  of  reluctance,  though,  to  teU  the 

truth,  he  had  been  longing  to  pass  me  on  for  the  last 

10  five  minutes. 

"Yon  mean  that  he  is  fast?" 

"Worse  than  that,"  said  James  Blackthorne,  lowering 

his  voice  as  the}^  walked  down  one  of  the  shady  garden 

paths.    "He  is  a  dangerous,  unprincipled  fellow,  and  into 

15  the  bargain  an  avowed  Nihilist.    All  that  is  involved  in 

that  word  you  perhaps  scarcely  realise." 

"Indeed  I  do,"  she  exclaimed  with  a  horrified  expres- 
sion.    "I  have  just  been  reading  a  review  on  that  book 
by  Stepniak.   Their  social  and  religious  views  are  terrible ; 
20  everything  that  could  bring  ruin  on  the  human  race.    Is 
he  indeed  a  Nihilist?" 

Mr.  Blackthorne's  conscience  gave  him  a  sharp  prick, 
for  he  knew  that  he  ought  not  to  have  passed  me  on. 
He  tried  to  pacify  it  with  the   excuse  that  he  had  only 
25  promised   not   to  tell  that  Miss  Houghton    was  his  in- 
formant. 

"I  assure  you,"  he  said  impressively,  "it  is  only  too 
true.    I  know  it  on  the  best  authority." 

And  here  I  cannot  help  remarking  that  it  has  alwaj^s 

30  seemed  strange  to  me  that  even  experienced  women  of 

the  world  can  be  so  easily  hoodwinked  by  that  vague 


Autobiographj^  of  a  Slander.  19 

nonentity,  "The  Best  i^utliority."  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  were  I  a  human  being  I  should  retort  with  an  ex- 
pressive motion  of  the  finger  and  thumb,  "Oh,  you  know 
it  on  the  best  authority,  do  you?  Then  that  for  your 
story!"  5 

However  I  thrived  wonderfully  on  the  "best  authority", 
and  it  would  be  ungrateful  of  me  to  speak  evil  of  that 
powerful  though  imaginary  personage. 

At  right  angles  with  the  garden  walk   down  which 
the  two  were  pacing  there  was  another  wide  pathway.  10 
Down   this  paced   a  very  different   couple.    Mrs.  Milton- 
Cleave  caught  sight  of  them,  and  so  did  the  curate.   Mrs. 
Milton-Cleave  sighed. 

"I  am  afraid  he  is  running  after  Gertrude  Morley! 
Poor   girl!    1  hope  she   will  not  be  deluded  into  encou- 15 
raging  him." 

Then  they  made  the  usual  remarks  about  the  desir- 
ability of  stopping  so  dangerous  an  acquaintance,  and 
the  impossibility  of  interfering  in  other  people's  affairs. 
I  laughed  so  much  at  their  hollow  little  phrases  that  20 
I  was  fain  to  beat  a  retreat,  and,  prompted  by  curiosity 
to  know  a  little  of  the  truth,  I  followed  Sigismund  and 
Gertrude  down  a  broad  grassy  pathway.  I  knew  of  course 
a  good  deal  of  Zaluski's  character  because  my  own  ex- 
istence and  growth  pointed  out  what  he  was  not.  I  knew  25 
therefore  that  he  was  not  a  Nihilist  or  an  unprincipled 
fellow  with  a  dangerous  temper,  or  an  Atheist,  yet  I  was 
curious  to  see  what  he  really  was. 

"If  you  only  knew  how  happy  you  have  made  me," 
Sigismund  was  saying.    And  indeed  as  far  as  happiness  30 
went  there  was  not  much  to  choose  between  them,  I 

2* 


20  Modern  Englisli  Writers  II. 

tMnk;  for  Gertrude  Morley  looked  radiant,  and  in  her 
dove-like  eyes  there  was  the  reflection  of  the  love  in  his. 

"You  must  talk  to  my  mother  about  it,"  she  said 
after  a  minute's  silence.    "You  see,  I  am  still  under  age. 
5  and  she  and  my  guardian,  Uncle  Hemy,  must  consent 
before  we  are  actually  betrothed." 

"I  will  see  them  at  once,"   said   Zaluski   eagerly. 

"You  could  see  my  mother,"  she  replied.    "But  Uncle 
Henry  is  still  in  Sweden  and   will  not  be  in  town  for 
10  another  week." 

"Must  we  really  wait  so  long!"  sighed  Sigismund 
impatiently. 

She  laughed  at  him  gently. 

"A  whole  week !  But  then  we  are  sure  of  each  other 
15  I  do  not  think  we  ought  to  grumble." 

"But  perhaps  they  may  think  that  a  merchant  is  not  a 
fitting  match  for  you,"  he  suggested.  And  I  am  nothing 
but  a  plain  merchant,  and  my  people  have  been  in  the 
same  business  for  four  generations.  As  far  as  wealth 
20  goes  I  might  perhaps  satisfy  your  people,  but  for  the 
rest  I  am  but  a  prosaic  fellow,  with  neither  noble  blood, 
nor  the  brain  of  a  genius,  nor  anything  out  of  the  common." 

"It  will  be  enough  for  my  mother  that  we  love  each 
other,"  she  said  shyly. 
25  "And  your  uncle?" 

"It  will  be  enough  for  him  that  you  are  upright  and 
honourable  —  enough  that  you  are  yourself,  Sigismund." 

They  were  sitting  now  in  a  sheltered  recess  clipped 
out  of  the  yew-trees. 
30  "I   have   led  such  a  lonely  life,"   he   said   after  a 

few   minutes,    during  which  their   talk  had  baffled  my 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  21 

comprehension.     "All    my  people  died  while  I  was  still 
a  boy." 

"Then  who  brought  jou  up?"  she  inquired. 

"An  uncle  of  mine,  the  head  of  the  firm  in  St.  Peters- 
burg.   He  was  very  good  to  me,  but  he  had  children  of  5 
his  own,  and  of  course  I  could  not  be  to  him  as  one  of 
them.    I  have  had  many  friends  and  much  kindness  shown 
to  me,  but  love!  —  none  until  to-day." 

And  then  again   they   fell  into  the  talk  which  I 
could  not  fathom.     And  so  I  left  them  in  their  brief  10 
happiness,  for  my  time  of  idleness  was  over,  and  I  was 
ordered  to  attend  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave  without  delay. 


MY   FOURTH   STAGE. 

"Oh,  the  little  more,  and  how  much  it  is ! 

—  E.  Browning-.  15 

Mrs.  Milton- Cleave  had  one  weakness  —  she  possess- 
ed an  inordinate  love  of  power.  This  made  her  always 
anxious  to  be  interesting  both  in  her  conversation  and  in 
her  letters,  and  to  this  end  she  exerted  herself  with  un- 
wearied activity.  She  liked  influencing  Mr.  Blackthorne ;  20 
and  the  curate  was  a  good  deal  flattered  by  her  friend- 
ship and  thought  her  one  of  the  most  clever  and  charming 
women  he  had  ever  met. 

Sigismund  and  Gertrude  came  up  just  as  Mrs.  Milton- 
Cleave  was  saying  goodbye  to  the  hostess.    She  glanced  25 
at  them  searchingly. 

"Good-bye,  Gertrude,"  she  said,  a  little  coldly. 


22  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

"Did  you  win  at  tennis?" 
"Indeed  we  did,"  said  Gertrude,  smiling. 
"We  came  off  with  flying-  colours.    It  was  a  love  set." 
The  girl  was  looking  more  beautiful  than  ever,  and 
5  there  was  a  tell-tale  colour  in  her  cheeks  and   an   un- 
usual light  in  her  soft  grey  eyes.    As  for  Zaluski  he  had 
the  audacity  to  look  so  supremely  happy,  that  Mrs.  Milton- 
Cleave  was  more  than  ever  impressed  with  the  gravity 
of  the  situation.    The  curate  handed  her  into  her  victoria, 
10  and  she  drove  home  through  the  sheltered  lanes  musing 
sadly  over  the  story  she  had  heard,  and  wondering  what 
Gertrude's  future  would  be.    AVlien  she  reached  home, 
however,  the  affair  was  driven  from  her  thoughts  by  her 
children,  of  whom  she  was  devotedly  fond.    They  came 
15  running  to  meet  her,  frisking  like  so  many  kittens  round 
her  as  she  Avent  upstairs  to   her  room,  and  begging  to 
stay   with   her   while   she  dressed  for  dinner.    During 
dinner  she  was  engrossed  by  her  husband ;  but  afterwards, 
when  she   was  alone  in  the  drawingroom,  I  found  an 
20  opportunity  of  working  on  her  restless  mind. 

"Dear  me,"  she  exclaimed,  throwing  aside  the  news- 
paper she  had  just  taken  up/'  I  ought  to  write  to  Mrs. 
Seldon  about  that  G.  F.  S.  girl!" 

As  a  matter  of  fact  she  ought  not  to  have  written 
25  then,  the  letter  might  well  have  waited  till  the  morning, 
and  she  was  overtired  and  needed  rest.    But  I  was  glad 
to  see  her  take  up  her  pen,  for  I  knew  I  should  come 
in  most  conveniently  to  fill  up  the  second  side  of  the  sheet. 
Before  long  Jane  Stiggins,  the  member  who  had  mi- 
30  grated  from  Muddleton  to  Dulminster,  had  been  duly  re- 
ported, wound  up,  and  made  over  to  the  Archdeacon's 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  23 

wife.    Then  the  tired   hand  paused.    What  more  could 
she  say  to  her  friend? 

"We  are  leading-  our  usual  quiet  life  here,"  she 
wrote,  "with  the  ordinary  round  of  tennis  -  parties  and 
picnics  to  enliven  us.  The  children  have  all  been  very  .5 
well"  —  "Oh  dear!"  sighed  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave,  "how 
dull  and  stupid  I  am  to-night!  I  can't  think  of  a  single 
thing  to  say."  Then  at  length  I  flashed  into  her  mind, 
and  with  a  sigh  of  relief  and  a  little  rising  flush  of 
excitement  she  went  on  much  more  rapidly.  10 

"It  is  such  a  comfort  to  see  them  all  looking  so  well. 
But  I  suppose  one  must  have  some  cause  of  worry,  and 
just  now  I  am  very  unhappy  about  that  nice  girl,  Gertrude 
Morley,  whom  you  admired  so  much  when  you  were  here. 
The  whole  neighbourhood  has  been  dominated  this  year  15 
by  a  young  Polish  merchant  named  Sigismund  Zaluski, 
who  is  very  clever  and  musical,  and  knows  well  how  to 
win  popularity.  He  has  taken  Ivy  Cottage  for  four 
months,  and  is,  I  fear,  doing  great  mischief.  The  Mor- 
leys  are  his  special  friends,  and  I  greatly  fear  he  is  20 
making  love  to  Gertrude.  Now  I  know  privately,  on  the 
very  best  authority,  that  though  he  has  so  completely 
deceived  every  one  and  has  managed  so  cleverly  to  pass 
himself  off  for  a  respectable  man,  that  Mr.  Zaluski  is 
really  a  Nihilist,  an  atheist,  and  altogether  a  most  un-  25 
principled  man.  He  is  very  clever,  and  speaks  English 
most  fluently,  indeed  he  has  lived  in  London  since  the 
spring  of  1881  —  he  told  me  so  himself.  I  cannot  help 
fancying  that  he  must  have  been  concerned  in  the  as- 
sassination of  the  late  Czar,  which  you  will  remember  30 
took  place   in  that  year  early  in  March.    It  is  terrible 


24  Modern  Englisli  Writers  II. 

to  think  of  the  poor  Morleys  entering  on  such  an  un- 
desirable connection;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I  really  do 
not  feel  that  I  can  say  anything  about  it.  Excuse  this 
hurried  note,  dear  Charlotte,  and  with  love  to  yourself 
5  and  kindest  remembrances  to  the  Archdeacon,  believe 
me,  very  aifectionately  yours, 

"Greorgina  Milton-Cleave." 

"P.  S.    It  may  perhaps  be  as   well  not  to  mention 
this  affair  about  Gertrude  Morley  and  Mr.  Zaluski." 

I  had  now  grown  to  such  enormous  dimensions  that 

10  any  one  who  had  known  me  in  my  infancy  would  scarcely 
have  recognised  me,  while  naturally  the  more  I  grew 
the  more  powerful  I  became,  and  the  more  capable  both 
of  impressing  the  minds  which  received  me  and  of  injuring 
Zaluski.   Poor  Zaluski,  who  was  so  foolishly,  thoughtlessly 

15  happy !  He  little  di-eamed  of  the  fate  that  awaited  him ! 
His  whole  world  was  bright  and  full  of  promise;  each 
hour  of  love  seemed  to  improve  him,  to  deepen  his  whole 
character,  to  tone  down  his  rather  flippant  manner,  to 
awaken  for  him  new  and  hitherto  unthought-of  realities. 

20  But  while  he  basked  in  his  new  happiness,  I  travelled 

in  my  close,  stuffy  envelope  to  Dulminster,  and  after 
having  been  tossed  in  and  out  of  bags,  shuffled,  stamped, 
thumped,  tied  up,  and  generally  shaken  about,  I  arrived 
one  morning  at  Dulminster  Archdeaconry,   and  was  laid 

25  on  the  breakfast  table  among  other  appetising  things  to 
greet  Mrs.  Selldon  when  she  came  downstairs. 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  25 

MY   FIFTH   STAGE. 

"Also  it  is  wise  not  to  believe  everything 
you  hear,  nor  immediately  to  carry  to  the 
ears  of  others  what  you  have  either  heard 
or  believed."  Thomas  ä  Kempis.        5 

Thoiig-h  I  was  read  in  silence  at  the  breakfast 
table  and  not  passed  on  to  the  Archdeacon,  I  lay  dormant 
in  Mrs.  Selldon's  mind  all  day,  and  came  to  her  aid  that 
night  when  she  was  at  her  wits'  end  for  something  to 
talk  about.  10 

Mrs.  Selldon,  though  an  estimable  person,  was  of  a 
phlegmatic  temperament ;  her  mind  was  lazy,  and  in  con- 
versation she  was  unutterably  dull.  There  were  times 
when  she  felt  this,  and  would  have  given  much  for  the 
ceaseless  flow  of  words  which  fell  from  the  lips  of  her  15 
friend  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave.  And  that  evening  after  my 
arrival  chanced  to  be  one  of  these  occasions,  for  there 
was  a  dinner-party  at  the  Archdeaconry,  given  in  honour 
of  a  well-known  author  who  was  spending  a  few  days  in 
the  neighbourhood.  20 

"I  wish  you  could  have  Mr.  Shrewsbury  at  your  end 
of  the  table,  Thomas,"  Mrs.  Selldon  had  remarked  to  her 
husband  with  a  sigh,  as  she  was  arranging  the  guests 
on  paper  that  afternoon. 

"Oh,  he  must  certainly  take  you  in  to  dinner,  my  25 
dear,"  said  the  Archdeacon.    "And  he  seems  a  very  clever 
well-read  man,  I  am  sure  you  will  find  him  easy  to  talk  to." 

Poor  Mrs.  Selldon  thought  that  she   would  rather 
have  had  someone  who  was  neither  clever  nor  well-read. 
But  there  was  no  help  for  her,  and,  whether  she  would  30 
or  not,  she  had  to  go  in  to  dinner  with  the  literary  lion. 


26'  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

Mr.  Mark  Shrewsbury  was  a  novelist  of  great  ability. 
Some  years  before  he  had  been  called  to  the  bar,  and, 
conscious  of  real  talent,  had  been  greatly  embittered  by 
the  impossibility  of  getting  on  in  his  profession.  At  length 

5  in  disgust,  he  gave  up  all  hopes  of  success  and  devoted 
himself  to  literature.  In  this  field  he  won  the  recognition 
for  which  he  craved;  his  books  were  read  everywhere, 
his  name  became  famous,  his  income  steadily  increased, 
and  he  had  the  pleasant  consciousness  that  he  had  found 

10  his  vocation.  Still,  in  spite  of  his  success  he  could  not 
forget  the  bitter  years  of  failure  and  disappointment 
which  had  gone  before,  and  though  his  novels  were  full 
of  genius,  they  were  pervaded  by  an  undertone  of  sar- 
casm, so  that  people  after  reading  them  were  more  ready 

15  than  before  to  take  cynical  views  of  life. 

He  was  one  of  those  men  whose  quiet  impassive  faces 
reveal  scarcely  anything  of  their  character.  He  was 
neither  tall  nor  short,  neither  dark  nor  fair,  neither  hand- 
some nor  the  reverse;  in  fact  his  personality  was  not  in 

20  the  least  impressive ;  while,  like  most  true  artists,  he  ob- 
served all  things  so  quietly  that  you  rarely  discovered 
that  he  was  observing  at  all. 

"Dear  me!"  people  would  say,  "is  Mark  Shrewsbury 
really  here  ?    Which  is  he  ?  I  don't  see  anyone  at  all  like 

25  my  idea  of  a  novelist." 

"There  he  is  —  that  man  in  spectacles,"  would  be 
the  reply.  And  really  the  spectacles  were  the  only  note- 
worthy thing  about  him. 

Mrs.   Selldon,    who   had    seen    several  authors   and 
30  authoresses  in  her  time,   and  knew  that  they  were  as  a 


Autobiog-rapliy  of  a  Slander.  27 

rule  most  ordinary,  humdrum  kind  of  people,  was  quite 
prepared  for  her  fate.  She  remembered  her  astonishment 
as  a  girl  when,  having  laughed  and  cried  at  the  play,  and 
taken  the  chief  actor  as  her  ideal  hero,  she  had  had  him 
pointed  out  to  her  one  day  in  Regent  Street,  and  found  5 
him  to  be  a  most  commonplace  looking  man,  the  very 
last  man  one  would  have  supposed  capable  of  stirring 
the  hearts  of  a  great  audience. 

Meanwhile  dinner  progressed,  and  Mrs.  Selldon  talked 
to  an  empty-headed  but  loquacious  man  on  her  left,  and  10 
racked  her  brains  for  something  to  say  to  the  alarmingly 
silent  author  on  her  right.  She  remembered  hearing  that 
Charles  Dickens  would  often  sit  silent  the  whole  of  dinner, 
observing  quietly  those  about  him,  but  that  at  dessert  he 
would  suddenly  come  to  life  and  keep  the  whole  table  in  15 
roars  of  laughter.  She  feared  that  Mr.  Strewsbury  meant 
to  imitate  the  great  novelist  in  the  first  particular,  but 
was  scarcely  likely  to  follow  his  example  in  the  last.  At 
length  she  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  the  cathedral, 
and  a  few  tepid  remarks  followed.  20 

"How  unutterably  this  good  lady  bores  me !"  thought 
the  author. 

"How  odd  it  is  that  his  characters  talk  so  well  in 
his  books,  and  that  he  is  such  a  stick!"  thought  Mrs. 
Selldon.  25 

"I  suppose  it's  the  effect  of  cathedral-town  atmos- 
phere," reflected  the  author. 

"I  suppose  he  is  eaten  up  with  conceit  and  won't 
trouble  himself  to  talk  to  me,"  thought  the  hostess. 

By  the  time  the  fish  had  been  removed   they  had  30 
arrived  at  a  state  of  mutual  contempt.    Mindful  of  the 


28  Modern  English  Vfriters  II. 

reputation  they  had  to  keep  up,  however,  they  exerted 
themselves  a  little  more  while  the  entrees  went  round. 
"Seldom  reads,  I  should  fancy,  and  never  thinks!" 
reflected  the   author,   glancing  at  Mrs.  Selldon's  placid 
5  unintellectual   face.     "What  on  earth  can  I  say  to  her?" 
"Very  unpractical,  I  am  sure,"  reflected  Mrs.  Selldon. 
"The  sort  of  man  who  lives  in  a  world  of  his  own,  and 
only  lays  down  his  pen  to  take  up  a  book.    What  subject 
shall  I  start?" 
10         "What  delightful  weather  we  have  been  having  the 
last  few  days !"  observed  the  author.     "Eeal  genuine  sum- 
mer weather  at  last."   The  same  remark  had  been  tremb- 
ling  on   Mrs.   Selldon's   lips.     She   assented   with   great 
cheerfulness  and  alacrity ;  and  over  that  invaluable  topic, 
15  which  is  always  so  safe ,  and  so  congenial,  and  so  ready 
to  hand,  they  grew  quite  friendly,  and  the  conversation, 
for  fully  five  minutes  was  animated. 
An  interval  of  thought  followed. 
"How  wearisome  is  society!"  reflected  Mrs.  Selldon. 
20         "It  is   hard  that  we  must  spend  so  much  money  in 
giving  dinners  and  have  so   much  trouble  for  so   little 
enjoyment." 

"One  pays  dearly  for  fame,"   reflected   the  author. 

"AVhat  a  nuisance  it  is  to  waste  all  tliis  time  when  there 

25  are  the  last  proofs  of  "What  Caste  ?"  to  be  done  for  the 

nine  o'clock  post  to-morrow  morning!  Goodness  knows 

what  time  I  shall  get  to  bed  to  night!" 

Then  Mrs.  Selldon  thought  regretfully  of  the  com- 
fortable easy-chair  that  she  usually  enjoyed  after  dinner 
m  and  the  ten  minutes'  nap,  and  the  congenial  needlework 
And  Mark  Shrewsbury  thought  of  his  chambers  in  Pump 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  29 

Court,  and  longed  for  his  type- writer,  and  his  books,  and 
his  swivel  chair,  and  his  favourite  meerchaum. 

"I  should  be  less  afraid  to  talk  if  there  were  not 
always  the  horrible  idea  that  he  may  take  down  what 
one  says,"  thought  Mrs.  Selldon.  5 

"I  should  be  less  bored  if  she  would  only  be  her 
natural  self,"  reflected  the  author,  „and  would  not  talk 
prim  platitudes."  (This  was  hard  for  he  had  talked  nothing 
else  himself.)  "Does  she  think  she  is  so  interesting  that 
I  am  likely  to  study  her  for  my  next  book?"  10 

"Have  you  been  abroad  this  summer  ?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Selldon,  making  another  spasmodic  attempt  at  conver- 
sation. 

"No,  I  detest  travelling,"  replied  Mark  Shrewsbury. 
"When  I  need  change  I  just  settle  down  in  some  quiet  15 
country  district  for  a  few  months  —  somewhere  near 
Windsor,  or  Reigate  or  Muddleton.    There  is  nothing  to 
my  mind  like  English  scenery." 

"Oh,  do  you  know  Muddleton?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sell- 
don.    "Is  it  not  a  charming  little  place  ?  I  often  stay  in  20 
the  neighbourhood  with  the  Milton-Cleaves." 

"I  know  Milton-Cleave  well,"  said  the  author.  "A 
capital  fellow,  quite  the  typical  country  gentleman." 

"Is  he  not?"  said  Mrs.  Selldon,  much  relieved  to 
have  found  this  subject  in  common.     "His  wife  is  a  great  25 
friend  of  mine;  she  is  full  of  life  and  energy,  and  does 
an  immense  amount  of  good.    Did  you  say  you  had  stayed 
with  them?" 

"No,  but  last  year  I  took  a  house  in  that  neighbour- 
hood for  a  few  months;    a  most  charming  little  place  it  30 


30  Modern  Eng-lish  Writers  II. 

was,  just  fit  for  a  lonely  bachelor.    I  daresay  you  re- 
member it  —  Ivy  Cottage,  on  the  Newton  Eoad." 

''Did  you  stay  there?  Now  what  a  curious  coinci- 
dence !  Only  this  morning  I  heard  from  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave 

5  that  Ivy  Cottage  had  been  taken  this  summer  by  a  Mr. 
Sigismund  Zaluski,  a  Polish  merchant,  who  is  doing 
untold  harm  in  the  neighbourhood.  He  is  a  very  clever, 
unscrupulous  man,  and  has  managed  to  take  in  almost 
every  one." 

10  "Why,  what   is  he?  A  swindler?   Or  a  burglar  in 

disguise?"  asked  the  author,  with   a  little  twinkle    of 
amusement  in  his  face. 

"Oh,  much  worse  than  that,"  said  Mrs.  Selldon, 
lowering  her  voice."    I  assure  you,  Mr.  Shrewsbury,  you 

15  would  hardly  credit  the  story  if  I  were  to  tell  it  you,  it 
is  really  stranger  than  fiction." 

Mark  Shrewsbury  pricked  up  his  ears,  he  no  longer 
felt  bored,  he  began  to  think  that,  after  all,  there  might 
be  some  compensation  for  this  wearisome  dinner-party. 

20  He  was  always  glad  to  seize  upon  material  for  future 
plots,  and  somehow  the  notion  of  a  mysterious  Pole  sud- 
denly making  his  appearance  in  that  quiet  country  neigh- 
bourhood and  winning  undeserved  popularity  rather  took 
his  fancy.    He  thought  he  might  make  something  of  it. 

25  However,  he  knew  human  nature  too  well  to  ask  a  direct 
question. 

•'I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  he  said,  becoming  all  at 
once  quite  sympathetic  and  approachable.  "I  don't  like 
the  thought  of  those  simple,  unsophisticated  people  being 

30  hoodwinked  by  a  scoundrel." 

"No ;  is  it  not  sad  ?"  said  Mrs.  Selldon.     "Such  pleas- 


AutobiogTaphy  of  a  Slander.  31 

ant,  hospitable  people  as  they  are!    Do  you  remember 
the  Morleys?" 

"Oh,  yes!  There  was  a  pretty  daughter  who  played 
tennis  well." 

"Quite  so  —  Gertrude  Morley.  Well,  would  you  5 
believe  it,  this  miserable  fortune-hunter  is  actually 
either  engaged  to  her  or  on  the  eve  of  being  engaged ! 
Poor  Mrs.  Milton-Cleave  is  so  unhappy  about  it,  for  she 
knows,  on  the  best  authority,  that  Mr.  Zaluski  is  unfit  to 
enter  a  respectable  house."  10 

"Perhaps  he  is  really  some  escaped  criminal?"  sug- 
sgested  Mr.  Shrewsbury  tentatively. 

Mrs.  Selldon  hesitated.  Then,  under  cover  of  the 
general  roar  of  conversation,  she  said  in  a  low  voice  — 

"You  have  guessed  quite  rightly.    He  is  one  of  the  15 
Nihilists  who  were  concerned  in  the  assassination  of  the 
late  Czar." 

"You  don't  say  so!"  exclaimed  Mark  Shrewsbury, 
much  startled.     "Is  it  possible?" 

"Indeed,  it  is  only  too  true,"  said  Mrs.  Selldon.  20 

"I  heard  it  only  the  other  morning,  and  on  the  very 
best  authority.  Poor  Gertrude  Morley!  My  heart  bleeds 
for  her." 

Now  I  can't  help  observing  here  that  this  must  have 
been  the  merest  figure  of  speech,  for  just  then  there  was  25 
a  comfortable  little  glow  of  satisfaction  about  Mrs.  Selldon's 
heart.  She  was  so  delighted  to  have  "got  on  well",  as 
she  expressed  it,  with  the  literary  lion,  and  by  this  time 
dessert  was  on  the  table,  and  soon  the  tedious  cere- 
mony would  be  happily  over.  30 


32  Modern  Engiisli  Writers  II. 

"But  how  did  he  escape?"  asked  Mark  Shrewsbury, 
still  with  the  thought  of  "copy"  in  his  mind. 

"I  don't  know  the  details,"  said  Mrs.  Selldon. 

"Probably  they  are  only  known  to  himself.    But  he 

5  managed  to  escape  somehow  in  the  month  of  March  1881, 

and  to  reach  England  in  safety.    I  fear  it  is  only  too 

often  the  case  in  this  world  —  wickedness  is  apt  to  be 

successful." 

"To  flourish  like  a  green  bay  tree,"  said  Mark 
10  Shrewsbury,  congratulating  himself  on  the  aptness  of  the 
quotation,  and  its  suitableness  to  the  Archidiaconal  dinner- 
table. 

"It  is  the  strangest  story  I  have  heard  for  a  long 

time."    Just  then  there  was  a  pause  in  the  general  con- 

15  versation,  and  Mrs.  Selldon  took  advantage  of  it  to  make 

the  sign  for  rising,  so  that  no  more  passed  with  regard 

to  Zaluski. 

Shrewsbury,  flattering  himself  that  he  had  left  a 
good  impression  by  his  last  remark,  thought  better  not 
20  to  efface  it  later  in  the  evening  by  any  other  conversation 
with  his  hostess.  But  in  the  small  hours  of  the  night 
when  he  had  finished  his  bundle  of  proofs,  he  took  up 
his  note-book  and,  strangling  his  yawns,  made  two  or 
three  brief,  pithy  notes  of  the  story  Mrs.  Selldon  had 
25  told  him,  adding  a  further  development  which  occurred 
to  him,  and  wondering  to  himself  whether  "Like  a  Grreen 
Bay  Tree"  would  be  a  selling  title. 

After  this  he  went  to  bed,  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the 
just,  or  the  unbroken  sleep  that  goes  by  that  name. 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  33 

MY   SIXTH   STAGE. 

"But  whispering-  tongues  can  poison  truth."       Coleridge. 

London  in  early  September  is  a  somewhat  trying 
place.    Mark  Shrewsbury  found  it  less  pleasing  in  reality 
than  it  had  appeared  in  his  visions  during  the  dinner-   5 
party  at  Dulminster.    True,  his  chambers  were  as  com- 
fortable,  and  his  type-writer  as  invaluable  a  machine  as 
ever,  and  his  novel  was  drawing  to  a  successful  conclusion ; 
but  though  all  these  things  should  have  tended  to  cheer 
him,  he  was  nevertheless  depressed.    Town  was  dull,  the  10 
heat  trying,  and  he  had  never  in  his  life  found  it  so 
difficult   to   settle  down  to  work.    He  began  to   agree 
with  the  Preacher,  that  "of  making  many  books  there  is 
no  end,"  and  that  in  spite  of  his  „Remington's  perfected 
No.  2",  novel-writing  was  a  weariness  to  the  flesh.    Soon  15 
he  drifted  into  a  sort  of  vague  idleness,  which  was  not 
a  good  honest  holiday,  but  a  lazy  waste  of  time  and 
brains.    I  was  pleased  to  observe  this  and  was  not  slow 
to  take  advantage  of  it.    Had  he  stayed  in  Pump  Court 
he  night  have  forgotten  me  altogether  in  his  work,  but  20 
in  the  soft  luxury  of  his  club  life  I  found  I  had  a  very 
good  chance  of  being  passed  on  to  someone  else. 

One  hot  afternoon,  on  waking  from  a  comfortable 
nap  in  the  depths  of  an  arm-chair  at  the  club,  Shrews- 
bury was  greeted  by  one  of  his  friends.  25 

"I  thought  you  were  in  Switzerland,  old  fellow !"  he 
exclaimed,  yawning  and  stretching  himself. 

"Came  back  yesterday  —  awfully  bad   season  — 
II.  3 


34  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

confoundedly  dull,"  returned  the  other.     "Where  have 
you  been?" 

"Down  with  Warren  near  Dulminster.  Deathly  dull 
hole." 

5  "Do  for  your  next  novel,  eh?"  said  the  other  with 

a  laugh. 

Mark  Shrewsbury  smiled  good-naturedly. 
"Talking  of  novels,"  he  observed,  with  another  yawn^. 
"I  heard  such  a  story  down  there!" 

10  "Did  you  ?  Let's  hear  it.  A  nice  little  scandal  would 
do  instead  of  a  pick-me-up." 

"It's  not  a  scandal.  Don't  raise  3^our  expectations. 
It's  the  story  of  a  successful  scoundrel."  And  then  I  came 
out  again  in  full  vigour  —  nay,  with  vastly  increased 

15  powers;  for  though  Mark  Shrewsbury  did  not  add  very 
much  to  m.e,  or  alter  my  appearance,  yet  his  graphic 
words  made  me  much  more  impressive  than  I  had  been 
under  the  management  of  Mrs.  Selldon.  "H'm!  that's  a 
queer    story,"    said   the   limp-looking    young    gentleman 

20  from  Switzerland.  "I  say,  have  a  game  of  billiards^ 
will  you?" 

Shrewsbury,  with  a  prodigious  yawn,  dragged  him- 
self up  out  of  his  chair,  and  the  two  went  olf  to  their 
game   together.    As  they  left  the  room   the   only  other 

25  man  who  was  present,  looked  up  from  his  newspaper, 
following  the  two  young  men  with  his  eyes. 

"Shrewsbury  the  novelist,"  he  thought  to  himself. 
"A  sterling  fellow !  And  he  heard  it  from  an  Archdeacon's 
wife.    The  thing  must  be  true  then.   I'll  write  and  make 

30  full  inquiries  about  Zaluski  before  consenting  to  the 
engagement." 


Aiitobiog-rapliy  of  a  Slander.  35 

And,  being-  a  prompt,  business-like  man,  Gertrude 
Morley's  uncle  sat  down  and  wrote  the  following  letter 
to  a  Russian  friend  of  his  who  lived  at  St.  Petersburg, 
and  who  might  very  likely  be  able  to  give  some  account 
of  Zaluski:  —  5 

"Dear  Leonoff,  —  Some  queer  stories  are  afloat 
about  a  young  Polish  merchant  by  name  Sigismund  Zaluski, 
the  head  of  the  London  branch  of  the  firm  of  Zaluski 
and  Zernoff,  at  St.  Petersburg.  Will  you  kindly  make 
inquiries  for  me  as  to  his  true  character  and  history?  10 
I  would  not  trouble  you  with  this  affair,  but  the  fact  is 
that  Zaluski  has  made  an  offer  of  marriage  to  one  of  my 
wards,  and  before  consenting  to  any  betrothal  I  must 
know  what  sort  of  man  he  really  is.  I  take  it  for  grant- 
ed that  'there  is  no  smoke  without  fire',  and  that  there  15 
must  be  something  in  the  very  strange  tale  I  have  just 
heard  on  the  best  authority.  It  is  said  that  this  Sigis- 
mund Zaluski  left  St.  Petersburg  in  March  1881,  after 
the  assassination  of  the  late  Czar,  in  which  he  was  se- 
riously compromised.  He  is  said  to  be  an  out-and-out  20 
Nihilist,  an  atheist,  and,  in  short,  a  dangerous,  disreput- 
able fellow.  Will  you  sift  the  matter  for  me?  I  don't 
wish  to  dismiss  the  fellow  without  good  reason,  but  of 
course  I  could  not  think  of  permitting  him  to  be  engaged 
to  my  niece  until  these  charges  are  entii^ely  disproved.  25 

With  kind  remembrances  to  your  father,  I  am,  yours 
faithfully, 

Henry  Crichton-Morley." 


3* 


36  Modern  English  Writers  II, 


MY   SEVENTH   STAGE. 


"Yet  on  the  dull  silence  breaking- 
With  a  lightening  flash,  a  word, 
Bearing  endless  desolation 
5  On  its  blighting  wings,  I  heard ; 

Earth   can  forge  no  keener  weapon, 
Dealing  surer  death  and  pain, 
And  the  cruel  echo  answered 
Through  long  years  again." 

10  A.  A.  Proctor. 

Curiously  enough,  I  must  have  started  for  Eussia  on 
the  same  day  that  Sigismund  Zaluski  was  summoned  by 
his  uncle  at  St.  Petersburg  to  return  on  a  matter  of 
urgent  business.    I  learnt  afterwards   that  the  telegram 

15  arrived  at  Muddleton  on  the  afternoon  of  one  of  those 
sunny  September  days  and  found  Zaluski  as  usual  at 
the  Morleys'.  He  was  very  much  annoyed  at  being  call- 
ed away  before  he  had  received  any  reply  from  Ger- 
trude's uncle  as  to  the   engagement.    However,  after  a 

20  little  ebullition  of  anger,  he  regained  his  usual  philoso- 
phic tone,  and,  reminding  Gertrude  that  he  need  not  be 
away  more  than  a  fortnight,  he  took  leave  of  her  and 
set  off  in  a  prompt,  manly  fashion,  leaving  most  of  his 
belongings    at  Ivy  Cottage,  which  was  his  for  another 

25  six  weeks,  and  to  which  he  hoped  soon  to  return. 

After  a  weary  time  of  imprisonment  in  my  envelope, 
I  at  length  reached  my  destination  at  St.  Petersburg  and 
was  read  by  Dmitry  Leonoff.  He  was  a  very  busy 
man   and  by  the    same   post   received  dozens   of   other 

30  letters.   He  merely  muttered  —  "That  well-known  firm." 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  37 

A  most  unlikely  story!"  and  then  thrust  me  into  a 
drawer  with  other  letters  that  had  tobe  answered.  Very 
probably  I  escaped  his  memory  altogether  for  the  next  few 
days:  however,  there  I  was  —  a  startling  accusation  in 
black  and  white ;  and,  as  everybody  knows,  St.  Petersburg  5 
is  not  London. 

The  Leonoff  family  lived  on  the  third  story  of  a 
large  block  of  buildings  in  the  Sergeffskaia.  About  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  on  the  third  day  after  my  arrival, 
the  whole  household  was  roused  from  sleep  by  thundering  10 
raps  on  the  door,  and  the  dreaded  cry  of  "Open  to  the 
police". 

The  unlucky  master  was  forced  to  allow  himself,  his 
wife,  and  his  children  to  be  made  prisoners,  while  every 
corner  of  the  house  was  searched,  every  book  and  paper  15 
examined.  Leonoff  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the 
revolutionary  movement;  this  search  in  his  house  was  a 
misunderstanding,  and  in  the  dominions  of  the  Czar  mis- 
understandings are  of  frequent  occurrence. 

Leonoff  knew  himself  to  be  innocent,  and  he  felt  no  20 
fear,  though  considerable  annoyance,  while  the  search 
was  prosecuted;  he  could  hardly  believe  the  evidence  of 
his  senses  when,  without  a  word  of  explanation,  he  was 
informed  that  he  must  take  leave  of  his  wife  and 
children,  and  go  in  charge  of  the  police  to  the  House  25 
of  Preventive  Detention. 

Being  a  sensible  man,  he  hept  his  temper,  remarked 
courteously  that  some   mistake   must  have  been  made, 
embraced  his  weeping  wife,  and  went  off  passively,  while 
the  pristav  carried  away   a  bundle  of  letters  in  which  I  30 
occupied  the  most  prominent  place. 


38  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

Leonoff  remained  a  prisoner   only  for    a  few  days, 
there  was   not  a  shred  of  evidence   against  him,  and, 
having-  suffered  great  anxiety,  he  was  finally  released. 
But  Mr.  Crichton-Morley's  letter  was  never  restored 
5  to  him,  it  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  authorities,  and 
the  night  after  Leonoff's  arrest  the   pristav,    the   pro- 
curator, and  the  policemen  made  their  way  into  the  dwell- 
ing of  Sigismund  Zaluski's  uncle,  where  a  similar  search 
was  prosecuted. 
10         Sigismund  was  asleep  and  dreaming  of  Gertrude  and 
of  his  idyllic  summer  in  England,  when  his  bedroom  door 
was  forced    open  and   he   was   roughly  roused   by  the 
police. 

His  first  feeling  was  one  of  amazement,  his  second 

15  one  of  indignation;  however,  he  was  obliged  to   get  up 

at   once  and   dress,    the    policeman  rigorously   keeping 

guard  over  him  the  whole  time  for  fear  he  should  destroy 

any  treasonable  document. 

"How  I  shall  make  them  laugh  in  England  when  I 

20  tell  them  of  this  ridiculous  affair!"  reflected  Sigismund, 

as  he  was  solemnly  marched  into  the  adjoining  room, 

where  he  found  his  uncle  and  cousins,  each  guarded  by 

a  policeman. 

He  made  some  jesting   remark,   but  was   promptly 
25  reprimanded  by  his  gaoler,  and  in  wearisome  silence  the 
household  waited  while  the  most   rigorous  search  of  the 
premises  was  made. 

Of  course  nothing   was  found;  but,   to  the  amaze- 
ment of  all,  Sigismund  was  formally  arrested. 
30  "There  must  be  some  mistake,"  he  exclaimed.     "I 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  39 

have  been  resident  in  England  for  some  time.    I  have 
no  connection  whatever  with  Russian  politics." 

"Oh,  we  are  well  aware  of  your  residence  in  Eng- 
land," said  the  pristav.  "You  left  St.  Petersburg  early 
in  March  1881.     We  are  well  aware  of  that."  5 

Something  in  the  man's  tone  made  Sigismund's  heart 
stand  still.  Could  he  possibly  be  suspected  of  complicity 
in  the  plot  to  assassinate  the  late  Czar?  The  idea  would 
have  made  him  laugh  had  he  been  in  England.  In  St. 
Petersburg,  and  under  these  circumstances,  it  made  him  10 
tremble. 

"There  is  some  terrible  mistake,"  he  said.  "I  have 
never  had  the  slightest  connection  with  the  revolutionarj^ 
party." 

The  pristav  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  Sigismund,  15 
feeling  like  one  in  a  dream,  took  leave   of  his  relations, 
and   was  escorted  at  once  to   the  House   of  Preventive 
Detention. 

Arrived  at  his  destination,  he  was  examined  in  a 
brief,  unsatisfactory  way;  but  when  he  angrily  asked  20 
for  the  evidence  on  which  he  had  been  arrested,  he  was 
merely  told  that  information  had  been  received  charging 
him  with  being  concerned  in  the  assassination  of  the  late 
Emperor,  and  of  being  an  advanced  member  of  the  Nihilist 
party.  His  vehement  denials  were  received  with  scornful  25 
incredulity;  his  departure  for  England  just  after  the 
assassination,  and  his  prolonged  absence  from  Eussia,  of 
course  gave  colour  to  the  accusation,  and  he  was  ordered 
off  to  his  cell  "to  reflect." 


40  Modern  English  Writers  II. 


MY    TRIUMPHANT    FINALE. 

"Words  are  mighty,  words   are  living; 
Serpents  with  their  venomous  stings 
Or  bright  angels  crowding  round  us, 
5  With  heaven's  light  upon  their  wings; 

Every  word  has  its  own  spirit, 
True  or  false,  that  never  dies; 
Every  word  man's  lips  have  uttered 
Echoes  in  God's  skies."    A.  A.  Proctor. 

10  My  labours  were  now  nearly  at  an  end,  and  being-, 
so  to  speak,  oif  duty,  I  could  occupy  myself  just  as  I 
pleased.  I  therefore  resolved  to  keep  watch  over  Zaluski 
in  his  prison. 

For  the  first  few  hours  after  his  arrest  he  was  in 

10  a  violent  passion;  he  paced  up  and  down  his  tiny  cell 
like  a  lion  in  his  cage;  he  was  beside  himself  with  in- 
dignation, and  the  blood  leapt  through  his  veins  like 
wildfire. 

Then  he  became  a  little  ashamed  of  himself  and  tried 

20  to  grow  quiet,  and  after  a  sleepless  night  he  passed  to 

the  other  extreme  and  sat  all  day  long  on  the  solitary 

stool  in  his  grim  abode,  his  head  resting  on  his  hands, 

and  his  mind  a  prey  to  the  most  fearful  melancholy. 

The  second  night,  however,  he  slept,  and  awoke  with 

25  a  steady  resolve  in  his  mind. 

"It  will  not  do  to  give  way  like  this,  or  I  shall  be 
in  a  brain  fever  in  no  time,"  he  reflected.  „I  will  get 
leave  to  have  books  and  writing  materials.  I  will  make 
the  best  of  a  bad  business." 

30         He  remembered   how  pleased  he  had  been  when 


Autobiograpliy  of  a  Slander.  41 

Gertrude  had  once  smiled  on  him  because,  when  all  the 
others  in  the  party  were  grumbling  at  the  discomforts 
of  a  certain  picnic  where  the  provisions  had  gone  astray, 
he  had  gaily  made  the  best  of  it  and  ransacked  the  near- 
est cottages  for  bread  and  cheese.  5 

He  set  to  work  bravely  now;  hoped  daily  for  his 
release;  read  all  the  books  he  was  allowed  to  receive, 
invented  solitary  games,  began  a  novel,  and  drew  cari- 
catures. 

In   October   he    was   again    examined;    but,  having  10 
nothing    to    reveal ,    it    was    inevitable    that    he    could 
reveal  nothing;  and  he  was  again  sent  back  to  his  cell 
to  "reflect". 

I  perceived  that  after  this  his  heart  began  to^fail  him. 

There  existed  in  the  House  of  Preventive  Detention  15 
a  system  of  communication  between  the  luckless  prisoners 
carried  on  by  means  of  tapping  on  the  wall.  Sigismund. 
being  a  clever  fellow,  had  become  a  great  adept  at  this 
telegraphic  system,  and  had  struck  up  a  friendship  with 
a  student  in  the  next  cell;  this  poor  fellow  had  been  20 
imprisoned  three  years,  his  sole  offence  being  that  he  had 
in  his  possession^  a  book  of  which  the  Government  did 
not  approve,  and  that  he  was  first  cousin  to  a  Nihilist 
who  was  well-known. 

The  two  became  as  devoted  to  each  other  as  Silvio  25 
Pellico  and  Count  Oroboni;  but  it  soon  became  evident 
to  Valerian  Vasilowitch  that,  unless  Zaluski  was  released, 
he  would  soon  succumb  to  the  terrible  restrictions  of 
prison  life. 

"Keep  up  your  heart,   my  friend,"  he  used  to  say.  30 


42  Modern  Engiish  Writers  II. 

"I  liave  borne  it  for  three  j^ears,  and  am  still  alive  to 
tell  the  tale." 

"But  you  are  stronger  both  in  body  and  in  mind," 
said  Sigismund;  "and  yon  are  not  separated  from  one 
5  you  love  dearly  as  I  am." 

And   then   he   would  pour   forth   a  rhapsody  about 

Gertrude,  and  about  English  life,   and  about  his  hopes 

and   fears  for  the  future;  to  all  of  which  Valerian,  like 

the  brave  fellow  he  was,  replied  with  words   of  encour- 

10  agement. 

But  at  length  there  came  a  day  when  his  friend 
made  no  answer  to  his  usual  morning  greeting. 

"Are  you  ill?"  he  asked. 

For  some  time  there  was  no  reply,  but  after  a 
15  while  Sigismund  rapped  faintly  the  despairing  words  — 

"Dead  beat!" 

Valerian  felt  the  tears  start  to  his  eyes.  It  was 
what  he  had  all  along  expected,  and  for  a  time  grief  and 
indignation  and  his  miserable  helplessness  made  him 
20  almost  beside  himself.  At  last  he  remembered  that  there 
was  at  least  one  thing  in  his  power.  Each  day  he  was 
escorted  by  a  gaoler  to  a  tiny  square,  walled  off  in  the 
exercising  ground,  and  was  allowed  to  walk  for  a  few 
minutes;  he  would  take  this  opportunity  of  begging  the 
25  warder  to  get  the  doctor  for  his  friend. 

But  unfortunately  the  doctor  did  not  think  very 
seriously  of  Zaluski's  case.  In  that  dreary  prison  he  had 
patients  in  the  last  stages  of  all  kinds  of  disease,  and 
Sigismund,  who  had  been  in  confinement  too  short  a 
30  time  to  look  as  ill  as  the  others,  did  not  receive  much 
attention.    Certainly,  the  doctor  admitted  his  lungs  were 


Autobiogi'aphy  of  a  Slander.  43 

affected ;  probably  the  sudden  change  of  climate  and  the 
lack  of  good  food  and  fresh  air  had  been  too  much  for 
him;  so  the  solemn  farce  ended  and  he  was  left  to 
his  fate. 

"If  I  were   indeed   a   Nihilist,    and  suffered  for  a    5 
cause  which  I  had  at  heart,"  he  telegraphed  to  Valerian, 
"I  could  bear  it  better.    But   to  be  kept   here   for  an 
imaginary  offence,  to  bear  cold  and  hunger  and  illness 
all  to  no  purpose  —  that  beats  me. 

Then  when  Sigismund   seemed  to  be  losing  hold   of  10 
his  faith  in  God,  Valerian  would  declare  that  they  were 
the  \dctims  of  violated  law.    Others  had  shown  tyrann}-, 
or  injustice,   or  cruelty,  and  they  were  the  victims  of 
those  sins.    But  God  would  avenge  the  wrong. 

So  they  spoke  to  each  other  through  their  prison  15 
wall  as  men  in  the  free  outer  world  seldom  care  to 
speak;  and  I,  who  knew  no  barriers,  looked  now  on 
Valerian's  gaunt  figure,  and  brave  but  prematurely  old 
face,  now  on  poor  Zaluski,  who,  in  his  weary  imprison- 
ment, had  wasted  away  till  one  could  scarcely  believe  20 
that  he  was  indeed  the  same  lithe,  active  fellow  who 
had  played  tennis  at  Mrs.  Courtenay's  garden-party. 

Day  and  night  Valerian  listened  to  the  terrible 
cough  that  came  from  the  adjoining  cell.  It  became  per- 
fectly apparent  to  him  that  his  friend  was  dying;  he  25 
knew  it  as  well  as  if  he  had  seen  the  burning  hectic 
flush  on  his  hollow  cheeks,  and  heard  the  panting,  hur- 
ried breaths,  and  watched  the  unnatural  brilliancy  of 
his  dark  eyes. 

At  length  he  thought  the  time  had  come  for  another  30 
kind  of  comfort. 


44  Modem  English  Writers  11. 

"My  friend,"  he  said  one  day,  "it  is  too  plain  to  me 
now  that  you  are  dying.  Write  to  the  procurator  and 
tell  him  so.  In  some  cases  men  have  been  allowed  to 
go  home  to  die." 
5  A  wild  hope  seized  on  poor  Sigismund ;  he  sat  down 
to  the  little  table  in  his  cell  and  wrote  a  letter  to  the 
procurator  —  a  letter  that  might  almost  have  drawn 
tears  from  a  flint.  Again  and  again  he  passionately 
asserted  his  innocence,  and  begged  to  know  on  what 

10  evidence  he  was  imprisoned.  He  began  to  think  that 
he  could  die  content  if  he  might  leave  this  terrible  cell, 
if  only  for  a  few  days.  At  least  he  might  in  that  case 
clear  his  character,  and  convince  Gertrude  that  his  im- 
prisonment had  been    all   a  hideous  mistake;    nay,  he 

15  fancied  he  might  live  through  a  journey  to  England 
and  see  her  once  again. 

But  the  procurator  would   not  let  him  be  set  free 
and  refused  to  believe  that  his  case  was  a  serious  one. 
Sigismund's  last  hope  left  him. 

20  Days  and  weeks  dragged  slowly  on,  and  when, 
according  to  English  reckoning,  New  Year's  Eve  arrived, 
he  could  scarcely  believe  that  only  seventeen  weeks  ago 
he  had  been  with  Gertrude,  and  that  disgrace  and  im- 
prisonment had    seemed  things  that  could  never  come 

25  near  him,  and  death  had  been  a  far-away  possibility,  and 
life  had  been  full  of  bliss. 

As  I  watched  him  a  strong  desire  seized  me  to 
revisit  the  scenes  of  which  he  was  thinking,  and  I 
winged  my  way  back  to  England,  and  soon  found  myself 

30  in  the  drowsy,  respectable  streets  of  Muddleton. 

It  was  New  Year's  Eve,  and  I  saw  Mrs.  O'Reilly 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  45 

preparing  presents  for  her  grandchildren,  and  talking,  as 
she  tied  them  up,  of  that  dreadful  Nihilist,  who  had 
deceived  them  in  the  summer. 

I  saw  Lena  Houghton,   and  Mr.  Blackthorne,  and 
Mrs.   Milton-Cleave,  kneeling  in  church  on  that  Friday   5 
morning,  praying  that  pity  might  be  shown  "upon  all 
prisoners   and   captives,    and   all   that   are    desolate    or 
oppressed". 

It  never  occurred  to  them  that  they  were  respon- 
sible for  the  sufferings  of  one  weary  prisoner,  or  that  his  10 
death  would  be  laid  at  their  door. 

I  flew  to  Dulminster,  and  saw  Mrs.  Selldon  kneeling 
in  the  cathedral  at  the  late  evening  service  and  rigor- 
ously examining  herself  as  to  the  shortcomings  of  the 
year  now  dying.  She  confessed  many  things  to  herself  in  15 
a  vague,  untroubled  way;  but  had  any  one  told  her  she 
had  cruelly  wronged  her  neighbour,  and  helped  to  bring 
an  innocent  man  to  shame,  and  prison,  and  death,  she 
would  not  have  believed  the  accusation. 

I  sought    out  Mark   Shrewsbury.     He   was  at  his  20 
Chambers  in  Pump  Court  working  away  with  his  type- 
writer;  he  had  a  fancy  for  working  the  old  year  out 
and  the  new  year  in,  and  now  he  was  in  the  full  swing 
of  that  novel  which  had   suggested  itself  to  his  mind 
when  Mrs.   Selldon  described  the   rich  and    mysterious  25 
foreigner  who  had  settled  at  Ivy  Cottage.    Most  happily 
he  laboured  on,  never  dreaming  that  his  careless  words 
had   doomed   a  fellow-man   to  a  painful   and   lingering 
death ;  never  dreaming  that  while  his  fingers  flew  to  and 
fro  over  his  dainty  little  keyboard,  describing  the  clever  30 
doings  of  the  unscrupulous  foreigner,   another  man,  the 


46  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

victim   of  his  idle  gossip,  tapped  dying  messages  on  a 
dreary  prison  wall. 

For  tiie  end  had  come. 

Through  the  evening  Sigismund  rested  wearily  on 
5  his  truckle-bed.  He  could  not  lie  down  because  of  his 
cough,  and,  since  there  were  no  extra  pillows  to  prop 
him  up,  he  had  to  rest  his  head  and  shoulders  against 
the  wall.  There  was  a  gas-burner  in  the  tiny  cell,  and 
by  its  light  he  looked  round  the  bare  walls  of  his  prison 

10  with  a  blank,  hopeless,  yet  wistful  gaze;  there  was  the 
stool,  there  was  the  table,  there  were  the  clothes  he 
would  never  wear  again,  there  was  the  door  through 
which  his  lifeless  body  would  soon  be  carried.  He  looked 
at  everything  lingeringly,  for  he  knew  that  this  desolate 

15  prison  was  the  last  bit  of  the  world  he  should  ever  see. 

Presently  the   gas  was  turned  out.    He  sighed  as 

he  felt  the  darkness  close  in  upon  him,  for  he  knew  that 

his  eyes  would  never  again  see  light  in  this  world  — 

knew  that  in  this  dark  lonely  cell  he  must  lie  and  wait 

20  for  death.  And  he  was  young  and  wished  to  live,  and 
he  longed  most  terribly  for  the  presence  of  the  woman 
he  loved. 

The  awful  desolateness  of  the  cell   was  more  than 
he  could  endure;  he  tried  to  think  of  his  past  life,  he 

25  tried  to  live  once  again  through  those  happy  weeks  with 
Gertrude ;  but  he  always  came  back  to  the  aching  misery 
of  the  present  —  the  cold  and  the  pain,  and  the  dark- 
ness and  the  terrible  solitude. 

His  nerveless  fingers  felt  their  way  to  the  wall  and 

30  faintly  rapped  a  summons. 


AutobiogTaphy  of  a  Slander.  47 

"Valerian!"  he  said,  "I  shall  not  live  through  the 
night.    Watch  with  me." 

The  faint  raps  sounded  clearly  in  the  stillness  of  the 
great  building,  and  Valerian  dreaded  lest  the  warders 
should    hear    them,    and    deal    out   punishment   for  an   5 
offence  which  by  day  they  were  forced  to  wink  at. 

But  he  would  not  for  the  world  have  deserted  his 
friend.    He  drew  his  stool  close  to  the  wall,  wrapped 
himself  in  all  the  clothes  he  could  muster,  and,  shiver- 
ing with    cold,   kept   watch  through    the    long  winter  10 
night. 

"I   am  near    you,"  he  telegraphed.     "I  will  watch 
with  you  till  morning." 

From  time  to  time  Sigismund  rapped  faint  messages, 
and  Valerian  replied  with  comfort  and  sympathy.  Once  15 
he  thought  to  himself,  "My  friend  is  better;  there  is 
more  power  in  his  hand."  And  indeed  he  trembled,  fear- 
ing that  the  sharp  emphatic  knocks  must  certainly 
attract  attention  and  put  an  end  to  their  communion. 

"Tell  my  love  that  the  accusation  was  false  —  false !"  20 
the   word  was  vehemently  repeated.     "Tell   her  I  died 
broken-hearted,  loving  her  to  the  end." 

"I  will   tell   her  all  when  I  am   free,"    said  poor 
Valerian,    wondering    with    a    sigh    when    his    unjust 
imprisonment  would   end.     "Do  you   suffer  much?"    he  25 
asked. 

There  was  a  brief  interval.    Sigismund  hesitated  to 
tell  a  falsehood  in  his  last  extremity. 

"It  will  soon  be  over.    Do  not  be  troubled  for  me" 
he    replied.     And   after   that    there   was  a  long,   long  30 
silence. 


48  Modem  English  "Writers  11. 

Poor  fellow!  he  died  hard;  and  I  wished  that  those 
comfortable  English  people  could  have  been  dragged  from 
their  beds  and  brought  into  the  cold  dreary  cell  where 
their  victim  lay,  fighting  for  breath,  suffering  cruelly 
5  both  in  body  and  mind.  Valerian,  listening  in  sad 
suspense,  heard  one  more  faint  word  rapped  by  the 
dying  man. 

"Farewell!" 

"God  be  with  you!"  he  replied,  unable  to  check  the 
10  tears  which  rained  down  as  he  thought  of  the  life  so 
sadly  ended,  and  of  his  own  bereavement. 

He  heard  no  more.  Sigismund's  strength  failed  him, 
and  I,  to  whom  the  darkness  made  no  difference,  watched 
him  through  the  last  dread  struggle;  there  was  no  one 
15  to  raise  him,  or  hold  him,  no  one  to  comfort  him.  Alone 
in  the  cold  and  darkness  of  that  first  morning  of  the 
year  1887,  he  died. 

Valerian  did  not  hear  through  the  wall  his  last  faint 
gasping  cry,  but  I  heard  it,  and  its  exceeding  bitterness 
20  would  have  made  mortals  weep. 

"Gertrude!"  he  sobbed.    "Gertrude!" 

And  with  that  his  head  sank  on  his  breast,  and  the 
life  that,  but  tor  me,  might  have  been  so  happy  and 
prosperous,  was  ended. 

25 

Prompted  by  curiosity,  I  instantly  returned  to  Muddleton 

and  sought  out  Gertrude  Morley.    I  stole  into  her  room. 

She  lay  asleep,  but  her  dreams  were  troubled,   and  her 
30  face,   once   so  fresh    and  bright,  was  worn  with  pain 

and  anxiety. 


Autobiography  of  a  Slander.  49 

Scarcely  had.  I  entered  the  room  when  the  sleeping- 
girl  threw  up  both  her  arms  with  a  bitter  cry,  and  awoke 
from  her  dream. 

"Sigismund!"  she  cried.  "Oh,  Sigismund!  Now  I 
know  that  you  are  dead  indeed."  5 

For  a  long,  long  time  she  lay  in  a  sort  of  trance  of 
misery.  It  seemed  as  if  the  life  had  almost  been  crush- 
ed out  of  her,  and  it  was  not  until  the  bells  began  to 
ring  for  the  six  o'clock  service,  merrily  pealing  out 
their  welcome  of  the  new  year  morning,  that  full  con-  10 
sciousness  returned  to  her  again.  But,  as  she  clearly 
realised  what  had  happened,  she  broke  into  such  a  pas- 
sion of  tears  as  I  never  before  witnessed,  while  still  in  the 
darkness  of  the  new  year  bells  rang  gaily,  and  she  knew 
that  they  heralded  for  her  the  beginning  of  a  lonely  life.  15 

And  so  my  work  ended ;  my  part  in  this  world  was 
played  out.  Nevertheless  I  still  live ;  and  there  will  come 
a  day  when  Sigismund  and  Gertrude  shall  be  comforted 
and  the  slanderers  punished. 

For  poor  Valerian  was  right,  and  there  is  an  Aven-  20 
ger  whose  just  laws  cannot  be  transgressed  with  impu- 
nity, and  before  whom  evil-doers  tremble.  There  will 
come  a  time  when  those  self-satisfied  ones,  whose  hands 
are  all  the  time  steeped  in  blood,  shall  be  confronted 
with  me,  and  shall  realize  to  the  full  all  that  their  idle  25 
words  have  brought  about.  When  Mrs.  O'Reilly  and  the 
rest  of  the  people  to  whom  I  owe  my  existence  and  rapid 
growth  shall  be  overwhelmed  with  shame,  horror,  and 
remorse.  And  afterwards  I  shall  be  destroyed  in  the 
general  destruction  of  all  that  is  evil.  30 

The  End. 

n  4 


Abraham    Lincoln. 


Introduction, 


Government   of  the  United  States 
of  North  America. 


The  fundamental  principle  of  tlie  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  of  North  America  is  the  recognition  of  the 
5  equal  rights  of  all  men,  without  distinction  of  rank  or 
class.  Its  form  preserves  the  independent  rights  and 
privileges  of  each  separate  State,  each  having  its  own 
Statutes  and  Government  for  all  internal  affairs,  and 
provides  for  the  representation  of  the  States  in  Congress 

10  or  Parliament,  the  central  government,  by  which  all 
matters  affecting  the  general  interests  of  all  are  decided, 
and  all  general  laws  enacted.  Congress  consists  of  the 
House  of  Eepresentatives  (or  Lower  House)  and  the 
Senate  (or  Upper  House).    Each  State  sends  two  Senators 

15  who  are  chosen  by  their  own  government  for  a  period 
of  five  years.  The  President  of  the  Senate  is  Vice-Presi- 
dent of  the  Union.  The  House  of  Representatives  con- 
sists of  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  members  who  are 
chosen  by  their  own  States  for  two  years.    The  Senate 

20  constitutes  the  Upper  House  by  which  the  laws  and 
Regulations  passed  in  the  House  of  Representatives  must 
be  accepted  and  ratified  before  they  can  come  into  force. 
When  a  bill  (Gesetzentwurf)  has  been  accepted  and  passed 
by  both  Houses  it  is  sent  to  the  President  of  the  Union 

25  who  may  agree  to  it,  in  which  case  it  becomes  law  at 
once,  or  may  send  it  back  with  a  statement  of  his  ob- 
jections or  proposals  of  alterations  for  reconsideration. 
If,  however,  after  a  second  debate,  it  is  confirmed  by  the 
votes  of  two  thirds  of  both  Houses,  it  becomes  law,  and 


Abraham  Lincoln.  51 

cannot  be  vetoed  by  the  President.  The  President  is 
elected  by  ballot  by  the  citizens  of  the  different  States 
belonging  to  the  Union.  He  holds  his  office  for  four 
years  but  at  the  expiration  of  that  time  may  be  re-elected  5 
for  a  further  four  years.  The  President  of  the  United 
States  is  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  army,  High 
Admiral  of  the  Navy,  Chief  Magistrate  of  the  Union, 
represents  the  Union  in  all  negociations  with  foreign 
countries  and  enjoys  a  number  of  other  powers  and 
privileges.  His  official  residence  is  the  White  House  10 
(built  of  marble)  at  Washington,  and  he  is  surrounded 
by  a  pomp  and  splendour  equal  to  that  of  kings. 


CIVIL   WAR   BETWEEN    THE   NOETHERN   AND 

SOUTHERN  STATES  FOR   THE   ABOLITION   OF 

SLAVERY. 

The  Union,  on  its  first  formation,  was  forced  to 
5  tolerate   slavery  in  the  Southern  States ,  though  under 
protest. 

After  the  Peace  of  Versailles  1883  had  ratified  the 
Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  freeing 
that  country  from  all  interference  on  the  part  of  Eng- 

10  land,  the  Northern  States  began  rapidly  to  increase  in 
population  and  in  commercial  prosperity.  Education  ad- 
vanced and  the  learned  professions  were  cultivated;  and 
besides  these  elements  of  a  well-to-do  middle  class  a 
large  and  intelligent  class  of  artisans  and  working  men 

15  began  to  strive  for  equal  political  rights.  In  the  South- 
ern States,  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  increased  but 
the  number  of  slaves.  The  population  consisted  of  the 
rich  planters,  owning  large  estates  and  numerous  slaves, 
and  a  few  poor  and  insignificant  citizens.    The  respect- 

20  able  and  thriving  middle-class,  that  gives  solidity  to  a 
state,  was  wanting.  The  South,  therefore,  whose  influ- 
ence had  hitherto  been  paramount  in  Congress,  watched 
with  anxiety  the  extraordinary  developement  and  exten- 
sion of  the  Northern  or  Anti-Slavery  States,   seeing  her 

25  preponderance  in  the  Councils  of  the  Government  threat- 


Abraham  Lincoln.  53 

ened  by  the  increasing  number  of  anti-slavery  Represen- 
tatives. In  1820  of  the  325  Representatives  only  90  be- 
longed to  the  south.  The  Southern  States  therefore  en- 
deavored to  procure  the  admission  of  more  slavery  states 
to  the  Union  and  this  purpose  was  violently  opposed  by  ö 
the  North.  In  1820  Congress  decreed  that  slavery 
should  be  permitted  only  south  of  36*^  30'  north  latitude. 
The  struggle  continued  with  more  or  less  vehemence, 
now  one  party  now  the  other  gaining  the  upperhand, 
and  the  choice  of  the  President  giving  on  each  occasion  10 
the  signal  for  a  trial  of  strength;  but  it  was  not  until 
the  election  of  Abraham  Lincoln  —  that  most  uncompro- 
mising opponent  of  slavery  —  to  the  Presidency  that 
warlike  hostitities  broke  out.  His  election  gave  the 
Southern  States,  embittered  by  their  defeat,  an  incen-  15 
tive  to  declare  their  secession  from  the  Union.  In  the 
speech  with  which  Lincoln  entered  on  his  Presidency 
he  refused  to  recognise  their  right  to  secede  and  tried 
to  pacify  them,  but  in  vain.  In  Dec.  1860  the  following 
States  seceded:  South  Carolina,  Mississippi, Florida,  Ala-  20 
bama,  Georgia,  Louisiana,  Texas,  Virginia,  Arkansas,  and 
lastly  North  Carolina.  These  States  called  a  Congress 
of  their  own  and  formed  a  so-  called  Federation,  to  which 
they  gave  a  new  constitution,  with  slavery  as  its  corner- 
stone, and  chose  Jefferson  Davis  as  President  of  the  25 
Federation  of  Southern  States. 

Lincoln's  earnest  efforts  to  effect  a  reconciliation 
were  unsuccessful,  and  the  taking  of  Fort  Sumter  by 
the  rebels  began  the  Civil  War,  12th  April  1861. 

The  Southern  States,  now  called  Federals,  were  led  30 
by  a  highly  cultivated  aristocracy,  schooled  in  states- 


54  Modern  Eng-lisli  Writers  II. 

mansMp.  They  possessed  the  best  officers  in  army  and 
navy,  among-  whom  the  names  of  Lee  and  Jackson,  called 
Stonewall  Jackson,  have  become  especially  famous.  They 
had  also  command  of  the  materials  of  war,  for  the 
5  Minister  of  War,  Floyd,  had  in  1860  sent  all  the  cannon 
and  arms  to  the  southern  arsenals;  so  that  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  war  the  Federals  had  a  decided  ad- 
vantage. In  April  Lincoln  published  his  first  appeal  for 
75  000  volunteers ;  it  was  answered  with  alacrity,  but  the 

10  troops  were  unpractised  and  undisciplined,  their  arms 
were  defective  and  the  commissariat  disorganized.  At 
first  the  North  (or  Union)  suffered  several  reverses,  but 
gradually  their  prospects  improved.  In  1862  Generals 
Thomas  and  Grant  succeeded  in  snatching  the  States  of 

15  Kentucky  and  Tennessee  from  the  rebels,  and  advanced 
down  the  Mississippi  River.  The  struggle  became  con- 
centrated round  Vicksburg,  which  was  held  by  the 
Federals  and  besieged  by  General  Grant  by  whom  it 
was   taken  after  a  long  siege  July  4.  1863.     By  this 

20  means  the  important  river  and  its  vicinity  was  gained 
for  the  North.  Some  successes  had  meantime  been 
gained  by  the  Federals  in  Virginia,  but  these  were 
destroyed  by  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  the  most  sanguin- 
ary battle  of  the  whole  war,    in   which  General  Meade 

25  gained  a  decisive  victory  over  the  Southern  States.  This 
victory  and  the  taking  of  Vicksburg,  w^hich  happened 
almost  simultaneously,  turned  the  tide  of  war  decidedly 
in  favour  of  the  North.  The  South  began  to  show 
signs    of    exhaustion    in    men    and    money,     while    the 

30  inexhaustible  resources  of  the  Northern  States  enabled 
them    to    retrieve    every    loss.     In   1862   Lincoln  had 


Abraham  Lincoln.  55 

issued  a  proclamation  declaring  all  the  slaves  in  the 
Southern  States  Free.  Having  proclaimed  the  Abolition 
of  Slavery  and  the  consolidation  of  the  Union  as  the 
object  of  the  war,  he  prosecuted  the  struggle  with  un- 
daunted courage  and  the  utmost  determination  and  5 
energy,  supported  by  the  enthusiastic  affection  of  his 
people,  who  saw  personified  in  him  those  qualities  of 
which  it  is  most  proud. 

Lincoln  was    re-elected  President  in    1864  with  a 
brilliant  majority  over  the  candidate  of  the  Reconciliation  10 
Party,  M^  Clellan.     Thus  the  final  result  of  the  war 
became  certain,  although  the  complete  subjection  of  the 
Federal     army    was    not    yet    accomplished.      General 
Lee  continued  to  fight  for  the  South  with  undiminished 
bravery    and  perseverance,   and  with   varying   success,  15 
until  at  last  the  northern  troops  succeeded  in  surround- 
ing him  with  his  army  of  60000  men  near  Goldsboro'. 
There  on  the  9.  of  April  this  brave  and  undaunted  soldier 
laid  down  his  arms  before  General  Grant  at  Appomatox- 
Court-House,  and  in  the  same  month  Johnston,  with  the  20 
rest    of    the   Federal    troops    surrendered    to    General 
Sherman  at  ßaleigh. 

Thus  the  Civil  War  came  to  an  end  after  four 
years'  duration.  It  had  cost  500000  human  lives  and 
left  the  Union  with  a  debt  of  three  thousand  millions  25 
of  dollars,  but  the  Union  was  not  only  preserved  but 
strengthened  by  this  war,  for  the  cause  of  dissension, 
slavery,  was  removed.  Lincoln's  extraordinary  power 
of  inspiring  the  nation  with  his  own  enthusiasm,  in- 
trepity,  and  unconquerable  perseverance  ensured  the  at-  3a 
tainment  of  his  noble  purpose,  the  Abolition  of  Slavery. 


56  Modern  Eng-lish  Writers  II. 


ABRAHAM    LINCOLN: 
Fakmer"s  Boy  and  President. 


"The  Mart}^^  President,"  as  Abraham  Liiicohi  is 
designated  in  the  United  States ,  furnishes  one  of  the 
5  most  astonishing  examples  of  native  genius  to  be  met 
with  in  history.  What  Shakespeare  is  in  literature  Lin- 
coln is  in  the  sphere  of  action.  Both  were  men  of  ori- 
ginal power,  and  both  rose  out  of  obscurity,  though  the 
statesman  received  the    world's  recognition  earlier  than 

10  the  poet. 

Lincoln,  the  sixteenth  President  of  the  United  States, 
was  the  son  of  pioneers,  and  his  early  experience  was 
that  of  a  farmer's  boy  living  in  Kentucky,  which  was 
then  on  the  border  land  of  ci^41ised  countries.   His  father, 

15  a  rough,  good-natured  man,  could  neither  read  nor  write, 
but  his  mother  appears  to  have  been  a  woman  of  a  high- 
er type.  Dr.  J.  Gr.  Holland  says  of  her  that  '"she  was 
a  slender,  pale,  sad,  and  sensitive  woman,  with  much  in 
her  nature  that  was  truly  heroic,  and  much  that  shrank 

20  from  the  rude  life  around  her.  Her  understanding  was 
considered  something  wonderful  by  her  family,  and  she 
was  a  brave,  sensible,  and  devout  Christian  woman."  It 
is  curious  that  the  exact  birth-place  of  her  famous  son 
is  not  known.    When  he  was  chosen  for  the  Presidency, 

25  he  was  approached  on  the  subject  of  his  birth-place ,  as 
the  people  naturally  desired  to  have  a  picture  of  the 
little  log  cabin.  Lincoln  took  a  book  and  pencil,  and 
for  a  moment  a  melancholy  shadow  settled  on  his  rugged 
features,  while  his  eyes  had  an  inexpressible  sadness  in 


Abraliam  Lincoln.  57 

them,  and  a  far-away  look,  as  if  they  were  searching 
for  something  seen  long,  long  years  ago.  Then  he  wrote : 
"I  was  born  February  12th,  1809,  in  then  Hardin  County, 
Kentucky,  at  a  point  within  the  now  recently-formed 
County  of  Larin,  a  mile  or  a  mile-and-a-half  from  where  5 
Hodginsville  now  is.  My  parents  being  dead,  and  my 
own  memory  not  serving,  I  know  no  means  of  identifying 
the  precise  locality.  It  was  in  Nolin  Creek."  The  family 
afterwards  moved  to  a  fertile  and  picturesque  spot  on 
Knob  Creek.  Here  all  the  books  that  the  Lincoln  shanty  10 
could  boast  were  the  Bible,  the  Catechism,  and  a  copy 
of  Dillworth's  spelling  book.  These  Abraham  made  good 
use  of,  so  that  in  later  life  there  were  few  men  who  had 
a  greater  command  of  the  Scriptures  than  he;  and  his 
speeches  had  much  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  simplicity,  terse-  15 
ness,  and  vigour  so  nobly  characteristic  of  the  English 
Bible. 

Education  in   the  wilds  of  Kentucky  was  not  of  a 
brilliant  character.    It  would   have  astonished  even  the 
poor  of  the  mother  country  before  they  enjoyed  the  pri-  20 
vileges  of  the  present  school  system.    It  frequently  be- 
gan with  a  little  reading,  and  ended  there;  "figures"  or 
arithmetic,  being  an  unknown  quantity.    Young  Lincoln 
received  but  the  merest  outline  of  an  education.    He  was 
more  precocious  than  most  children  of  his  age,  however,  25 
and  his  friends  did  all  that  was  possible  to  take  advan- 
tage  of  this  fact.     He  made  quick  progress  in  reading, 
but  acquired  the  art  of  penmanship  under  great  difficul- 
ties.   As  books  were  very  scarce,  he  thoroughly  digested 
the  few  he  could  obtain ;  and  notably  among  these  were  30 
Aesop's  Fables  and  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  to  which  were 


58  Modern  Eugiisli  Writers  II. 

afterwards  added  a  Life  of  Washington  and  BoUnson 
Crusoe.  The  second  and  fourtli  became  great  favourites 
with  him.  In  1816  the  Lincolns  sold  their  old  home 
and  moved  into  Indiana,  where  Ahraham  began  in  ear- 
5  nest  the  life  of  a  pioneer  boy,  becoming  very  skilful  in 
the  use  of  the  axe.  He  and  his  father  erected  a  wood 
cabin,  sixteen  feet  by  eight.  The  boy  "practised  pen- 
manship with  a  charred  stick  on  the  bark  of  trees  and 
on  slabs.    In  the  winter  he  wrote  his  name  in  the  snow 

10  with  a  stick;  and  in  the  summer  he  wrote  it  on  the 
ground  in  the  garden."  It  seems  incredible  now,  that 
the  Chief  Magristate  of  a  mighty  Eepublic  could  have 
risen  from  such  surroundings.  It  took  nine  years  for 
anj' thing  like  a  village  to  spring  up  in  the  neighbourhood. 

15  The  first  great  sorrow  came  to  young  Lincoln  in 
the  autumn  of  1818,  when  his  mother  died  from  a  fearful 
visitation  called  "the  milk  disease,"  which  had  already 
carried  off  two  friends  and  relatives  named  Sparrow. 
This  was  an  irreparable  loss;  for  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  in- 

20  structed  her  son  in  the  paths  of  virtue,  and  had  taught 
him  to  be  a  total  abstainer  before  the  Temperance  move- 
ment had  been  heard  of.  Thomas  Lincoln  constructed 
with  his  own  hands  a  rough  coffin  for  his  wife,  and,  with 
a  few  friends  standing  round,  she  was  laid  to  rest  under 

25  a  grassy  knoll.  Abraham  was  now  thrown  more  into 
the  companionship  of  his  cousin,  Dennis  Hanks,  a  youth 
about  his  own  age.  Mr.  Lincoln  desired  a  funeral  sermon 
to  be  preached  over  his  wife,  so  he  got  his  son  to  indite 
a  letter  to  an  old  friend,  one  Parson  Elkins,  an  earnest 

30  and  God-fearing  man.  It  was  a  memorable  event,  the 
writing  of  this  letter,   and  Mr.  Thayer,  in   his  Life   of 


Abraham  Lincoln,  59 

the  President,  states  that  never  before  had  there  been  a 
member  of  the  family  who  could  perform  such  a  feat. 
The  following  conversation  ensued  between  father  and 
son : — 

"See  how  much  it  is   worth   to  be  able  to  write,"    5 
said  Lincoln,  as  Abraham  finished   reading*   the   letter. 
"It's  worth  ten  times  as  much  as  it  cost  to  be  able  to 
write  only  that  one  letter." 

"It  ain't  much  work  to  learn  to  write,"  said  Abra- 
ham;   "I'd  work  as  hard  again  for  it  before  I'd   give  10 
it  up." 

"You'd  have  to  give  it  up  if  you  was  knocked  about 
as  I  was  when  a  boy." 

"I  know  that." 

"You  don't  know  it  as  I  do;  and  I  hope  you  never  15 
will.    But  it's  worth  more  than  the  best  farm  to  know 
how  to  write  a  letter  as  well  as  that." 

"I  shall  write  one  better  than  that  yet,"  said  Abra- 
ham. „But  how  long  will  it  take  for  the  letter  to  go 
to  Parson  Elkins?"  20 

"That's  more  than  I  can  tell;  but  it  will  go  there 
some  time,  and  I  hope  it  will  bring  him  here." 

"He  won't  want  to  come  so  far  as  this,"  suggested 
Abraham. 

"It  ain't  so  far  for  him  as  it  was  for  us."  25 

"Why  ain't  it?" 

"Because  he  lives  nearer  the  line  of  Indiana  than 
than  we  did.  It  ain't  more  than  seventy-five  miles  for 
him  to  come,  and  he  often  rides  as  far  as  that." 

Seventy-five  miles!    Yet  the  good  minister  came  at  30 
last,  about  three  months  after  the  despatch  of  the  letter. 


60  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

The  people  for  a  considerable  distance  round  were 
apprised  of  the  intended  service,  and  on  a  certain  Sunda}^ 
old  and  young  travelled  to  the  spot  in  carts,  on  horse- 
back, or  on  foot.  Parson  Elkins  preached  an  admirable 
5  sermon,  and  one  which  not  only  brought  vividly  to  Abra- 
ham Lincoln's  memory  his  mother's  care,  tenderness, 
and  affection,  but  one  that  strengthened  all  his  good 
resolutions. 

In  December,  1819,  Mr.  Lincoln  married  again,  and 

10  Abraham,  as  well  as  others,  found  the  advantage  of 
this  second  mother,  who  brightened  the  household, 
and  ^superintended  its  arrangements  with  much  skill. 
Her  own  children  brought  also  their  companionship, 
as   well    as    an   appreciable   store  of  household   goods. 

15  Mrs.  Lincoln  knew  the  value  of  education,  and  it 
it  was  now  placed  within  the  reach  of  Abraham  at  the 
pioneer  schools,  where  he  became  very  enthusiastic  over 
his  studies.  One  of  his  masters,  Andrew  Crawford, 
distinguished  in  his  pupil  the  foreshadowings  of  a  great 

20  man.  The  youth  was  singularly  truthful,  and  anecdotes 
are  related  of  his  great  honesty,  candour,  and  readiness 
to  confess  his  faults.  Cruelty  to  animals  incensed  him 
greatly,  and  one  of  his  earliest  compositions  was 
upon  this  theme.    He  was  wont  to  recite  for  the  instruc- 

25  tion  or  amusement  of  his  companions,  and  to  display  his 
oratorical  powers  from  the  stump  of  a  tree.  He  further 
came  to  be  called  "the  peacemaker",  for  he  could  not 
endure  to  witness  broils  among  his  companions.  A 
strange  figure  Avas  this   incipient  ruler  at  fifteen  years 

30  of  age.  He  was  then  almost  six  feet  in  height,  homely 
and  ungainly  in  appearance,  with  legs  and  arms  lengthy 


Abraham  Lincoln.  61 

out  of  all  proportion  to  his  body.  Very  swarthy  in  com- 
plexion, and  comical  in  aspect,  he  might  have  sat  as 
a  character  for  Dickens.  He  wore  a  linsey-wolsey  shirt, 
buckskin  breeches,  and  low  shoes;  but  between  the 
bottom  of  the  breches  and  the  top  of  the  shoes  there  was  a  5 
great  gap.  He  was  only  at  school  for  a  year,  but  he 
beat  all  his  masters,  Simple  Proportion  marking  the  limit 
of  their  education.  It  is  said  that  Abraham  wielded  a 
facile  pen  in  his  schooldays,  and  he  celebrated  the 
somewhat  formidable  nasal  feature  of  his  tutor  Craw-  10 
ford,  in  "verse"  and  "prose",  whose  fame  spread  "as  wide 
as  to  the  Wabash  and  the  Ohio."  On  more  than  one 
occasion  when  Lincoln,  in  his  boisterous  fits  of  humour, 
was  asked  what  he  thought  would  become  of  him,  he 
replied  that  he  would  yet  be  "President  of  the  United  15 
States",  which  prophecy  was,  of  course,  taken  as  a  mere 
bit  of  boastful  pleasantry. 

At  the  age  of  nineteen  Abraham  went  to  work  for 
a  Mr.  Gentry,  the  proprietor  of  Gentryville,  and  he  made 
a  voyage   as   a  hand  on  a   Mississippi    flat-boat.     The  20 
business  was  dangerous  and  exciting,  and  he  had  a  brush 
with   some    marauding   slaves.     By  this  time  Lincoln's 
intellectual  powers  had  made  their  mark  in  his  district, 
and   political   and  other    compositions  of  his  had  been 
published,  which  were  regarded  as  unusually  clever  and  25 
promising.     Believing,  also,  in  a  healthy  body  as  well 
as  a  sound  mind,  Lincoln  devoted  some  of  his  hours   of 
hours  of  recreation  to  popular  sports,   and  soon  excelled 
all    his    companions   in   wrestling.     At   this   period   he 
borrowed  from  a  friend  the  Statutes  of  Indiana^  which  he  80 
read  and  carefully  digested,  thus  laying  a  basis  for  his 


62  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

subsequent  legal  studies;  and  lie  practised  himself  in 
speaking  in  public.  One  of  his  companions  states  that 
he  was  always  calm,  logical,  and  clear.  He  read  and 
wrote  a  good  deal,  and  found  great  delight  in  attending 
5  the  law  courts  when  he  could  get  an  opportunity. 

To  escape  the  dreaded  milk  disease,  the  Lincolns 
moved  into  Illinois  in  1830.  ilbrabam  was  now  just 
twenty-one  years  of  age.  He  assisted  his  father  in 
clearing  a  farm  and  split  rails  for   the  fence;  hence  he 

10  was  afterwards  known  as  the  "ßail-splitter".  During* 
the  next  year  or  two  he  went  through  a  great  variety 
of  experiences — now  piloting  boats  under  dangerous  cir- 
cumstances, and  now  serving  in  a  pioneer  store.  AVhile 
residing  in  New  Salem,  he  won  the  title,  "Honest  Abe" 

15  which  he  carried  through  life.  "The  public  confidence 
in  his  integrity  and  fairmindedness  was  such  that  he 
was  usually  chosen  one  of  the  umpires  in  all  games  and 
trials  where  two  sides  enlisted."  He  finally  became  in 
such  great  demand  in  this  line  that  both  parties  consti- 

20  tuted  him  judge.  The  pursuit  of  knowledge  was  his 
chief  ambition,  however,  and  he  liked  to  know  what  was 
going  forward  in  the  world.  For  years  he  subscribed 
to  the  Louisville  Journal  when  he  had  not  money  enough 
to   dress  respectably.    In  1832   the  Indian   Chief,  Black 

25  Hawk,  caused  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  and  Lincoln,  be- 
lieving him  to  be  one  of  the  most  treacherous  enemies  of 
the  whites,  enlisted  in  one  of  the  volunteer  regiments 
sent  out  against  that  celebrated  chief  by  the  Governor 
of  Illinois.    Abraham  was  chosen  chief  of  his  company, 

80  and,  as  its  term  of  service  expired  before  the  conclusion 
of  the  war.  he  reenlisted  in  another  company  as  private. 


Abraham  Lincoln.  63 

He  did  this  for  a  third  time,  being  resolved  to  serve  his 
country  so  long  as  the  war  lasted,  and  ultimately  the 
Battle  of  Bad  Axe  put  an  end  to  the  conflict.  While 
acting  as  captain,  he  endangered  his  own  life  by  fear- 
lessly protecting  an  Indian  who  had  arrived  in  the  camp  5 
with  a  safe-conduct  from  General  Cass.  It  was  not  Lincoln's 
lot  to  come  face  to  face  with  the  enemy,  which  must  have 
been  rather  trying,  as  he  revelled  in  danger.  By  a 
curious  coincidence,  there  were  two  officers  in  the  Black 
Hawk  War  destined  to  become  Presidents  of  the  United  10 
States— Colonel  Zachary  Taylor  and  Captain  Abraham 
Lincoln.  Years  after  he  served  in  the  Black  Hawk 
War,  Lincoln  narrated  his  first  experience  in  drilling 
his  company.  He  was  marching  with  his  detachment 
across  a  field,  when  he  desired  to  pass  through  a  gate-  15 
way  into  the  next  enclosure.  "I  could  not,  for  the  life 
of  me,"  said  he,  "remember  the  proper  word  of  command 
for  getting  my  company  endwise,  so  that  it  could  pass 
through  the  gate ;  so,  as  we  came  near  the  gate,  I  shouted, 
"This  company  is  dismissed  for  two  minutes,  when  it  20 
will  fall  in  again  on  the  other  side  of  the  gate!'" 
Utilising  this  amusing  incident  with  regard  to  the  dis- 
cussions in  Congress,  he  remarked,  "I  sometimes  think 
that  gentlemen  who  get  into  a  tight  place  in  debate 
would  like  to  dismiss  the  House  until  the  next  day,  and  25 
then  take  a  fair  start." 

In  1832  Lincoln  was  "run"  by  his  friends  for  the  State 
legislatui'e.     His  first  political  speech,  which  was  very 
brief,  was  as  follows :  —  "Gentlemen  and  fellow  citizens, 
I  presume  you  all  know  who  I  am.    I  am  humble  Abra-  30 
ham  Lincoln.    I  have  been  solicited  by  many  friends  to 


64  Modern  Englisli  Writers  II. 

become  a  candidate  for  tlie  Legislature.  My  politics  are 
short  and  sweet:  I  am  in  favour  of  a  national  bank; 
I  am  in  favour  of  tlie  internal  improvement  system  and  a 
liigh  protective  tariif.  These  are  my  sentiments  and 
5  political  principles.  If  elected,  I  shall  be  thankful ;  if  not 
it  will  be  all  the  same."  He  was  not  elected,  but  in  his 
own  district  of  New  Salem  he  polled  277  votes  out  of  a 
possible  284.  Lincoln  now  entered  into  business  as  a 
merchant,  where  he   lost   heavily  through  a  worthless 

10  partner.  While  waiting  for  a  new  opening,  he  devoured 
everything  that  he  could  lay  his  hands  upon  in  the  shape 
of  books.  Burns  and  Shakespeare  he  read  with  great 
gusto,  committing  large  portions  of  their  works  to  memory, 
and  they  were  ever  afterwards  his  favourite  poets.    Under 

15  the  auspices  of  Calhoun  of  Springfield  he  began  practical 
work  as  a  surveyor,  studying  law  privately  at  the  same 
time.  In  1833  President  Jackson  appointed  him  post- 
master of  New  Salem,  not  a  very  onerous  occupation. 
The  letters  were  few  and  far  between,  and  it  was  laugh- 

20  ingly  said  of  him  that  he  "carried  the  office  in  his  hat." 
because  when  going  out  he  would  sometimes  put  the 
missives  in  his  hat  for  the  purpose  of  delivering 
them  to  the  parties  addressed  if  he  should  happen  to 
meet  them. 

25  The  first  step  in  Lincoln's  public  career  was  taken 

in  1834,  when  he  was  elected  to  the  State  Legislature 
on  the  Whig  ticket.  His  success  was  all  the  more  credit- 
able because  he  absolutely  declined  to  resort  to  the  dis- 
honourable means  for  obtaining  votes  employed  by  some 

30  candidates,  such  as  providing  grog  shops.  His  appear- 
ance was   so  uncouth  that  an  elector,  Dr.  Barrett,  ex- 


Abraham  Lincoln.  65 

claimed,  when  he  saw  him,  "Well,  if  that  fellow  is 
qualified  to  go  to  the  Legislature,  his  looks  belie  him, 
that  is  all."  When  he  had  heard  Lincoln  speak,  however, 
the  doctor  said,  "I  give  it  up  now.  Why,  sir,  he  is  a 
perfect  take  in,  —  he  knows  more  than  all  of  them  put  5 
together."  Lincoln  was  re-elected  to  the  Legislature  in 
1836,  in  1838,  and  in  1840.  During  his  second  term  the 
question  of  slavery  was  violently  agitated  in  Illinois. 
The  Democratic  party  introduced  a  series  of  resolutions 
against  the  Abolitionists  and  in  favour  of  slavery,  and  10 
so  great  was  the  pressure  put  upon  the  Whigs,  that 
nearly  all  the  members  were  coerced  into  supporting 
these  arbitrary  measures.  Not  so  Lincoln,  however.  He 
denounced  the  resolutions  and  their  supporters,  and  man- 
fully, and  almost  alone,  fought  the  battle  of  freedom  for  15 
two  years. 

Having  been  incited  to  the  systematic  study  of  the 
law  by  Mr.  John  T.  Stuart,  Lincoln  was  admitted  to  the' 
Bar  in  1837,  and  became  Mr.  Stuart's  partner.    He  prac- 
tised at  Springfield,  and  had  much  success  in  Jury  trials  20 
The  manner  in  which  he  had  already  succeeded  in  gain- 
ing the  public  esteem  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that  at  a 
dinner  given  to  the  Representatives  of  Sangamon  County, 
he  was  toasted  as  "Abraham  Lincoln,  one  of  Nature's 
noblemen."    The   partnership  with  Mr.  Stuart  ended  in  2.5 
1840,   and  not  long  afterwards  Lincoln  joined  Judge  S. 
T.    Logan.     In    1842    he    married    Miss   Mary  Todd, 
daughter    of    the    Hon.      R.    S.    Todd,    of    Lexington, 
Kentucky.       By     this    union    he     had    four    children, 
all  sons.    Three  of  them  died  before  the  age  of  man-  30 
hood,  but  the  eldest,  Robert,  lived  to  become  Secretary 

II  5 


66  Modern  English  "Writers  II. 

of  War  at  AVashingtoii,  and  lie  is  now  United  States 
Minister  to  Great  Britain. 

Characteristic  anecdotes  are  related  of  Lincoln's  legal 
experiences.  On  one  occasion  the  ensuing-  conversation 
5  occurred  after  a  client  had  laid  his  case  before  the 
advocate. 

"I  cannot  serve  you,"  said  Lincoln,  "for  you  are 
wrong"  and  the  other  party  is  right." 

"That  is  none  of  your  business,  if  I  hire  and  pay  you 
10  for  taking  the  case,"  retorted  the  man. 

"Not  my  business !"  exclaimed  Lincoln.  "My  business 
is  never  to  defend  wrong.  If  I  am  a  lawyer,  I  never 
take  a  case  that  is  manifestly  wrong." 

"Well,  you  can  make  trouble  for  the  woman,"  added 
15  the  applicant. 

"Yes,"  responded  Lincoln,  "there  is  no  reasonable 
doubt  but  that  I  can  gain  the  case  for  you.  I  can  set 
a  whole  neighbourhood  at  loggerheads;  I  can  distress  a 
widowed  mother  and  her  six  fatherless  children,  and 
20  thereby  get  for  you  six  hundred  dollars,  which  right- 
fully belongs  as  much  to  the  woman  and  her  children  as 
it  does  to  you.    But  I  won't  do  it." 

"Not  for  any  amount  of  pay?"  inquired  the  man. 
"Not  for  all  you  are  worth,"  replied  Lincoln.  "You  must 
25  remember  that  some  things  which  are  legally  right  are  not 
morally  right.    I  shall  not  take  your  case." 

Lincoln   took   up    matters    which   were   considered 

unpopular,   that  is,   cases   in   which   negroes   had   been 

seized  again  after  a  period  of  freedom,  and  by  dint  of 

30  tireless  energy  and  exertion  he  secured  their  restitution. 

He  could  do  nothing  with  causes  where  he  had  not  the 


Abraham  Lincoln.  67 

strongest  belief  in  the  innocence  of  Ms  clients,  and 
whenever  liis  fellow  counsel  were  successful  in  such 
causes,  he  declined  to  receive  one  cent  of  the  fees.  The 
son  of  an  old  benefactress  of  Lincoln  having  been  char- 
ged with  murder,  the  distracted  mother  made  a  touching  5 
and  impassioned  appeal  to  "the  noble,  good  Abe"  to  save 
her  boy,  whom  he  had  rocked  when  a  babe  in  his  cradle. 
Lincoln  did  his  best,  but  the  evidence  of  the  principal 
witness  was  of  an  apparently  crushing  nature.  He  swore 
positively  that  the  murder  was  committed  at  half-past  10 
ten  o'clock  on  a  certain  night,  and  that  the  moon  was 
shining  brightly  at  the  time.  The  case  seemed  hopeless, 
and  yet  Lincoln  felt  that  there  was  a  plot  against  an 
innocent  man.  He  reviewed  the  evidence;  then,  raising 
his  clear,  full  voice  to  a  higher  key,  and  lifting  his  15 
long,  wiry  arm  above  his  head,  as  if  about  to  annihilate 
his  client's  accuser,  he  exclaimed:  "The  witness  testifies 
that  the  moon  was  shining  brightly  when  the  deed  was 
perpetrated,  between  the  hours  of  ten  and  eleven  o'clock, 
when  the  moon  did  not  appear  on  that  night,  as  your  20 
Honour's  almanac  will  show,  until  an  hour  or  more  later, 
and,  consequently,  the  whole  story  is  a  fabrication." 
This  concise  forensic  point  was  followed  by  a  fervent 
and  eloquent  appeal,  which  closed  with  the  words,  "If 
justice  is  done,  as  I  believe  it  will  be,  before  the  25 
sun  sets  it  will  shine  upon  my  client  a  free  man." 
There  was  a  revulsion  of  feeling  throughout  the 
whole  court,  and  the  accused  was  acquitted  and  actu- 
ally a  free  man  before  sundown.  The  widowed 
mother  and  the  advocate  mingled  their  tears  over  the  30 
youth  thus   snatched  from   the   gallows.     Judge  Davis 

5* 


68  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

said  of  Lincoln  as  a  lawyer  —  "In  all  the  elements 
that  constitute  the  great  lawyer,  he  had  few  equals. 
The  framework  of  his  mental  and  moral  being  was 
honesty.    He  never  took  from   a  client,  even  when  the 

5  cause  was  gained,  more  than  he  thought  the  service  was 
worth,  and  the  client  could  reasonably  afford  to  pay.  He 
was  loved  by  his  brethren  of  the  bar."  Judge  Drum- 
mond  also  bore  this  testimony:  "With  a  probity  of 
character  known  to  all,  with  an  intuitive  insight  into 

10  the  human  heart,  with  a  clearness  of  statement  which 
was  in  itself  an  argument,  with  uncommon  power  and 
felicity  of  illustration  —  often,  it  is  true,  of  a  plain  and 
homely  kind  —  and  with  that  sincerity  and  earnestness 
of  manner  which  carried  conviction,  he  was  one  of  the 

15  most  successful  lawyers  in  the  State." 

Lincoln  was  elected  to  Congress  in  1846,  his  major- 
ity being  1,511,  as  compared  with  a  majority  of  only 
914  which  Henry  Clay  had  been  able  to  secure  in  the 
same    State   two    years   before.     Many   who   were   not 

20  Whigs  voted  for  Lincoln,  on  the  ground  of  his  sterling 
personal  qualities.  He  took  his  seat  in  the  National 
House  of  Representatives  on  December  6  th,  1847,  and, 
being  the  only  Whig  member  from  Illinois,  his  appear- 
ance created  considerable  interest.    Lincoln  opposed  the 

25  war  with  Mexico,  which  was  waged  in  the  interests  of 
slavery,  and,  during  the  prolonged  anti-slavery  conflict 
in  Congress,  he  spoke  frequently  and  with  great  warmth 
against  the  cruel  and  unjust  system,  which  he  declared 
must  bring  down  a  terrible  retribution  upon  the  country 

30  unless  it  were  abolished.  He  energetically  supported  the 
efforts  to  abolish  slavery  in  the  district  of  Columbia,  and 


Abraham  Lincoln.  69 

introduced  a  bill  for  that  purpose.  Becoming  widely 
known  for  his  endeavours  to  reduce  the  limits  of 
slavery,  and  for  his  vigorous  sympathy  with  all  the  as- 
pirations of  his  political  section,  he  was  trusted  as  a 
leader  of  the  people  in  the  Kansas-Nebraska  agitation,  5 
which  proposed  that  these  territories  should  be  declared 
"free  soil."  Declining  re-election  to  Congress  in  1848, 
and  again  in  1850,  in  order  to  be  with  his  family  and 
to  follow  his  profession,  Lincoln  turned  with  renewed 
ardour  to  the  study  of  English  and  American  literature.  10 
He  was  a  conspicuous  example  of  what  can  be  accom- 
plished after  forty,  making  as  great  strides  from  this 
time  forward  as  he  had  made  in  the  earlier  stages  of 
his  career.  Six  years  of  comparative  retirement  from 
public  life  enabled  him  to  add  largely  to  his  stock  of  15 
general  knowledge.  He  rendered  at  this  time  good  ser- 
vice to  the  Temperance  cause,  and  in  1854  formally 
joined  the  Order  of  the  Sons  of  Temperance. 

In    1854  Lincoln   furnished   evidence  of  the   great 
magnanimity  of  his  nature,  by  insisting  that  the  votes  20 
of  his  Illinois  friends  ^  in  the  election  for  United  States 
senator,   should  be  transferred  to  Lyman  Trumbull,  in 
order  to  defeat  the  slavery  candidate,  Governor  Matheson. 
This  was  done  —  though  several  Whigs  wept  over  the 
necessity  —  and  the  election  was    secured.      Two  years  25 
later  he  spoke  with  remarkable  eloquence  at  the  organi- 
sation of  the  Eepublican  party  of  Illinois;  and  at  this 
juncture  he  was  put  forward  by  his  State  as  a  candidate 
for    the  Vice-Presidency,    on    the   ticket   with    General 
Fremont.      He    received    110    votes,    which    strikingly  30 
showed  the  position  he  was  already  gaining  as  a  states- 


70  Modem  English  Writers  II. 

man.  Lincoln  took  an  active  part  in  the  Fremont  Cam- 
paign, delivering-  many  powerful  speeches.  At  one 
place  a  Democrat  thus  challenged  him:  "Mr.  Lincoln,  is 
it  true  that  you  entered  this  State  barefooted,  driving 
5  a  yoke  of  oxen?"  Lincoln  replied,  "Yes,  I  think  I  can 
prove  the  fact  by  at  least  a  dozen  men  in  the  crowd, 
any  one  of  whom  is  more  respectable  than  my  questioner." 
Then  he  passed  on  to  a  high  strain  of  oratory,  and 
deeply   moved   his   audience  by  the  declaration  —  "We 

10  will  speak  for  freedom  and  against  slavery,  so  long  as 
the  Constitution  of  our  country  guarantees  free  speech, 
until  everywhere  on  this  wide  land  the  sun  shall  shine, 
and  the  rain  shall  fall,  and  the  wind  shall  blow  upon 
no  man  who  goes  forth  to  unrequited  toil." 

15  Lincoln's  determination  to  do  the  right  was  never 

better  exemplified  than  at  the  Eepublican  State  Con- 
vention which  met  at  Springfield,  in  June,  1857.  He 
saw  the  struggle  that  must  come  between  the  Union 
and    the  Slave  States    of  the  South,   and  in  his  now 

20  famous  address,  known  as  "The  House-divided-against- 
itself  Speech/'  he  incorporated  and  delivered  the  following 
passage :  —  "A  house  divided  against  itself  cannot  stand. 
I  believe  this  Government  cannot  endure  permanently 
—  half-slave  and  half-free.    I  do  not  expect  the  Union 

25  to  be  dissolved  —  I  do  not  expect  the  house  to  fall ;  but 
I  do  expect  it  will  cease  to  be  divided.  It  will  become 
all  one  thing  or  all  the  other."  His  enemies  hailed 
these  bold  utterances  with  delight,  as  being  certain  to 
portend    Lincoln's   ruin,    and    even    his    friends    were 

30  dubious  concerning  their  wisdom.  When  the  latter 
remonstrated  with  him,  he  replied,   "If  it  must  be  that 


Abraham  Lincoln.  71 

I  go  down  because  of  this  speech,  then  let  me  go  down 
linked  to  truth  —  die  in  the  advocacj^  of  what  is  just  and 
right."  After  the  speech  had  been  delivered,  and  it 
had  been  stigmatised  as  foolish  and  suicidal ,  Dr.  Loring 
asked  its  utterer  whether  he  did  not  wish  it  were  wiped  5 
out  of  existence?  Lincoln  answered,  "Well,  Doctor,  if 
I  had  to  draw  a  pen  across  and  erase  my  whole  life 
from  existence,  and  had  one  poor  gift  or  choice  left  as 
to  what  I  should  save  from  the  wreck,  I  should  choose 
that  speech,  and  leave  it  to  the  world  unerased."  The  10 
result  proved  that  he  was  right,  and  that  he  had  seen 
further  than  his  contemporaries.  The  speech  was 
recognised  years  later  as  one  of  the  wisest  he  had  ever 
delivered,  and  it  gave  the  keynote  to  the  policy  of 
maintaining  the  Union.  "It  settled  the  character  and  15 
issue  of  the  next  Presidential  election,  and  finally  sealed 
the  doom  of  slavery"  in  the  United  States. 

In  1858  the  election  in  Illinois  was  for  a  Legislature 
which  should  choose  a  senator,   and  Lincoln  "stumped" 
the  State  as  the  opposing  orator  to  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  20 
the  able  Democratic  candidate.    They  argued  before  the 
same  audiences,  Lincoln  securing  the  honours  in  these 
important  debates,  a  fact  which  gave   him  a  national 
reputation.     During  one  of  the    discussions    he    closed 
mth  these  words  an  eloquent  tribute  to  the  Declaration  25 
of  Independence:   "You  may  do  anything  with  me  3^ou 
choose,    if  you  will  but   heed  these   sacred   principles. 
You  may  not  only  defeat  me  for  the  Senate,    but  you 
may  take  me  and  put  me  to  death.    While  pretending 
no  indifference  to    earthly  honours,    I  do   claim  to  be  30 
actuated  in  this  contest  by  something  higher  than  an 


72  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

anxiety  for  office.  I  charge  you  to  drop  every  paltry 
and  insignificant  thought  for  any  man's  success.  It  is 
nothing;  I  am  nothing;  Judge  Douglas  is  nothing.  But 
do  not  destroy  that  immortal  emblem  of  humanity  — 
5  the  Declaration  of  American  Independence."  Although  in 
the  popular  vote  Lincoln  received  a  majority  of  4,085 
over  Mr.  Douglas,  Ms  opponent  was  returned  to  the 
United  States  Senate,  owing  to  the  peculiar  apportion- 
ment of  the  legislative  districts. 

10  There    was    a    strange    scene    of   excitement    and 

enthusiasm  at  Decatur  on  the  9  th  of  May,  1860,  when 
the  Eepublican  State  Convention  of  Illinois  met  in  a 
building  erected  for  the  purpose.  Amid  a  tempest  of 
applause,   "a  distinguished  citizen  of  Illinois,  Abraham 

15  Lincoln,"  was  requested  to  take  his  seat  on  the  stand, 
but  he  was  actually  borne  to  it  by  his  admirers.  When 
the  Convention  proceeded  to  business,  it  was  announced 
that  an  old  democrat  was  waiting  outside,  with  the 
object  of  presenting  something  to  the  Convention.    An 

20  order  being  given  for  his  admission,  John  Hanks, 
Lincoln's  old  friend,  fellow  rail-splitter,  and  comrade  in 
the  Black  Hawk  War,  —  appeared.  He  bore  on  his 
shoulders  two  rails,  surmounted  by  a  banner  bearing  this 
inscription,    "Two  rails  from  a  lot  made  by   Abraham 

25  Lincoln  and  John  Hanks,  in  the  Sangamon  Bottom,  in 
the  year  1830."  The  present  was  greeted  with  volleys 
of  applause  and  shouts  of  "A  speech!"  "Let's  hear  the 
rail-splitter,"  "Old  Abe  must  show  his  hand!"  Lincoln, 
who  was  rather  discomposed  by  this  flattering  tribute, 

30  stepped  forward  and,  pointing  to  the  rails,  smilingly 
said,  "Gentlemen,  I  suppose  you  want  to  know  something 


Abraham  Lincoln.  73 

about  those  things.  Well,  the  truth  is,  John  Hanks  and 
I  did  make  rails  in  the  Sangamon  Bottom.  I  don't 
know  whether  we  made  those  particular  rails  or  not; 
the  fact  is,  I  don't  think  they  are  a  credit  to  the 
makers.  But  I  do  know  this;  I  made  rails  then,  and  I  5 
think  I  could  make  better  ones  than  these  now."  A 
tempest  of  cheers  shook  the  building,  and  when  it  had 
subsided,  a  resolution  was  carried  unanimously  declaring 
Abraham  Lincoln  to  be  the  first  choice  of  the  Republican 
party  of  Illinois  for  the  Presidency.  10 

A  month  or  so  after  this  meeting  the  National 
Eepublican  Convention  assembled  at  Chicago.  It  was 
attended  by  25,000  citizens,  who  were  accommodated  in  a 
huge  structure  provided  for  the  occasion.  There  were 
eight  Eepublican  candidates  for  the  Presidency,  viz.:  —  15 
William  H.  Seward,  Salmon  P.  Chase,  Edward  Bates, 
Judge  McLean,  William  L.  Dayton,  Simon  Cameron, 
Abraham  Lincoln,  and  Benjamin  F.  Wade.  Mr.  Seward 
had  a  European  as  well  as  an  American  reputation,  but 
he  secured  only  a  very  inferior  place  in  the  balloting.  20 
In  the  informal  ballot,  Lincoln  had  102  votes.  Chase  49, 
and  Bates  48.  As  it  was  evident  that  Seward  and  some 
others  had  no  chance  of  nomination,  their  supporters 
gave  their  votes  to  Lincoln,  who  was  chosen  on  the 
third  ballot.  The  nomination  was  hailed  with  wild  25 
enthusiasm,  and  the  news  was  telegraphed  to  Spring- 
field; Lincoln  was  at  the  office  of  the  Journal  when  it 
arrived,  and  picking  up  the  telegram  he  observed,  "Well, 
gentlemen,  there  is  a  little  woman  at  our  house  who  is 
probably  more  interested  in  this  despatch  than  I  am;  30 
and  if  you  will  excuse  me,  I  will  take  it  up  and  let  her 


74  Modern  Eng-lisli  Writers  II. 

see  it."  When  a  number  of  citizens  called  to  congratu- 
late the  Presidential  candidate,  it  was  expected  that,  as 
usual,  his  health  would  be  drunk  in  the  choicest  liquors, 
but  they  had  mistaken  the  nature  of  Lincoln.  After  the 
5  official  ceremonies  were  over,  a  servant  brought  in  a  waiter 
containing  a  large  pitcher  of  water  and  several  glass 
tumblers,  whereupon  Lincoln  rose  and  said,  "Gentlemen, 
we  must  pledge  our  mutual  healths  in  the  most  healthy 
beverage  that  God  has  given  to  man ;  it  is  the  only  bever- 

10  age  I  have  ever  used  or  allowed  in  my  family,  and  I 
cannot  conscientiously  depart  from  it  on  the  present 
occasion ;  it  is  pure  Adam's  ale,  from  the  spring."  With 
that  he  raised  a  tumbler  to  his  lips,  and  those  guests 
who  did  not  agree  with  his  principles,   were  constrained 

15  to  admire  his  consistency  and  to  follow  his  example. 

The  public  reasons  for  Lincoln's  nomination  as  the 
Republican  candidate  for  the  Presidency  were  his  well- 
known  abhorrence  of  slavery  and  his  determination  to 
maintain  the  Union.    But  his  personal  claims  were  very 

20  strong,  and  there  was  no  man  in  the  party  so  widely 
respected  for  his  sterling  honesty  and  uprightness,  and 
for  the  way  in  which,  through  sheer  force  of  character, 
he  had  risen  from  the  humblest  sphere  until  he  had 
acquired  a  national  reputation. 

25  When  the  time  for  the  Presidential  contest  arrived, 

there  were  four  candidates  for  the  Presidency:  Lincoln, 
Douglas,  Breckenridge,  and  Bell.  Lincoln  was  the  can- 
didate of  all  those  citizens,  whether  in  the  North  or  in 
the  South,  who  already  perceived  the  ultimate  drift  of  the 

30  conflict,  and  were  for  the  Union,  against  all  agitations 
which  threatened  to  overthrow  it.    Lincoln  was  elected 


Abraham  Lincoln.  75 

President  ou  the  6tli  of  November,  b}^  a  popular  vote 
numbering-  1,857,610,  being  nearly  lialf-a-million  more 
votes  than  were  cast  for  the  Democratic  candidate, 
Douglas.  The  popular  vote  for  Breckenridge,  the  Slavery 
candidate,  was  847.900;  and  of  these  348,012  were  cast  5 
in  Northern  States.  There  were  thus  about  half-a-million 
voters,  but  no  more,  who  favoured  the  extreme  theories 
of  the  Southern  democracy.  The  votes  cast  for  Lincoln 
in  the  Electoral  College  numbered  180,  as  against  72  cast 
for  Breckenridge,  41  for  Bell,  and  10  for  Douglas.  He  10 
had  thus  57  more  votes  than  all  the  other  candidates 
combined.  Lincoln  felt  the  importance  and  solemnity  of 
his  election  very  deeply;  for  he  was  a  man  of  profound 
religious  faith,  and  moved  by  a  consuming  desire  to  be- 
friend the  slave  and  to  preserve  the  Union.  'T  know  15 
there  is  a  God,"  he  exclaimed,  shortly  before  the  result 
of  the  contest  was  made  known,  "and  that  He  hates  in- 
justice and  slavery.  I  see  the  storm  coming,  and  I  know 
that  His  hand  is  in  it.  If  He  has  a  place  and  work  for 
me,  I  am  ready;  I  am  nothing,  but  truth  is  everything.  20 
I  know  I  am  right,  because  I  know  that  liberty  is  right. 
I  have  told  them  that  a  house  divided  against  itself 
cannot  stand,  and  Christ  and  reason  say  the  same;  and 
they  will  find  it  so.  Douglas  don't  care  whether  slavery 
is  voted  up  or  voted  down;  but  God  cares,  and  humanity  25 
cares,  and  I  care;  and  with  God's  help  I  shall  not  fail. 
I  may  not  see  the  end,  but  it  will  come  and  I  shall  be 
^dndicated." 

Between  the  date    of  the  Presidential    election   in 
Nov.  1860  and  the  formal  inauguration  of  Lincoln,  in  30 
March  1861,  there  was  time  for  the  President's  enemies 


76  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

in  the  South  to  reflect,  and  they  employed  the  inter- 
vening period  in  preparing-  for  armed  revolt.  The  South 
was  greatly  assisted  in  this  work  by  the  fact  that  de- 
pots of  arms  and  of  war  material  had  been  so  located 
5  by  the  Southern  officials  in  the  War  Department ,  as  to 
put  them  within  easy  reach  in  case  of  insurrection ;  while 
the  small  army  of  the  United  States  was  scattered  in 
detachments  in  remote  parts  of  the  country.  By  this 
manoeuvre  the  South  had  five  months'  start  of  the  North 

10  in  the  active  preparations  for  war. 

Before  leaving  Springfield  for  his  installation  at 
Washington,  Lincoln  spent  some  time  with  his  mother  at 
Charleston.  Mr.  Lamon,  one  of  the  President's  biographers, 
states  that  their  last  interview  was  most  affecting.    "She 

15  embraced  him  with  deep  emotion,  and  said  she  was  sure 
she  should  never  behold  him  again,  for  she  felt  that  his 
enemies  would  assassinate  him.  'No,  no,  mother,  they 
will  not  do  that.  Trust  in  the  Lord  and  all  will  be  well ; 
we  shall  see  each  other   again.'    But,  inexpressibly  af- 

20  fected  by  this  new  evidence  of  her  tender  attachment 
and  deep  concern  for  his  safety,  he  gradually  and  reluc- 
tantly withdrew  from  her  arms,  feeling  more  deeply  op- 
pressed by  the  heavy  cares  which  time  and  events  were 
rapidly  augmenting."    There  were  many  other  prognos- 

25  tications  besides  Mrs.  Lincoln's,  that  the  President  would 
come  to  an  untimely  end;  and  from  the  first  he  seems 
to  have  carried  his  life  in  his  hand. 

However,  Lincoln's  courage  was  as  conspicuous  as  his 
energy  and  determination ;  and  on  the  11th  of  February, 

30  1861,  he  left  Springfield  for  Washington  with  his  family. 
To  the  friends  who  gathered   to  wish  him  "God  speed" 


Abraham  Lincoln.  77 

he  spoke  these  beautiful  parting  words :  "No  one  not  in 
my  position  can  appreciate  the  sadness  I  feel  at  this 
parting.  To  this  people  I  owe  all  that  I  am.  Here  I 
have  lived  more  than  a  quarter-of-a-century.  Here  my 
children  were  born,  and  here  one  of  them  lies  buried.  5 
I  know  not  how  soon  I  shall  see  you  again.  A  duty 
devolves  on  me  which  is  greater,  perhaps,  than  that  which 
has  devolved  upon  any  other  man  since  the  days  of 
Washington.  He  never  would  have  succeeded  but  for  the 
aid  of  Divine  Providence,  upon  which  he  at  all  times  10 
relied.  I  feel  that  I  cannot  succeed  without  the  same 
Divine  aid  which  sustained  him,  and  on  the  same  Al- 
mighty Being  I  place  my  reliance  for  support;  and  I  hope 
you,  my  friends,  will  pray  that  I  may  receive  that  Divine 
assistance,  without  which  I  cannot  succeed,  but  with  15 
which  success  is  certain.  Again  I  bid  you  all  an  affec- 
tionate farewell." 

The  journey  to  Washington  was  a  magnificent  ovation 
all  through,  but  from  the  minority,  threats  of  assassination 
were  heard;   and  when  Lincoln  reached  Philadelphia  he  20 
was  met  by  the  startling  intelligence  that  a  plot  had  been 
discovered  to  kill  him  in  passing  through  Baltimore  on 
the  ensuing  day.    The  President-elect  was  disinclined  to 
notice  these  reports,   but  it  was  arranged   that  instead 
of  going  on  by  the  train  originally  fixed,  the  Presidential  25 
party  should  go  through  the  same  night  to  Washington 
by  the  night  express.   They  arrived  safely  in  the  capital 
at  half-past  six  the  next  morning.    As  the  telegraphic 
wires  had  been  cut,  the  time  of  the  President's  arrival 
was  left  in  doubt.    Mr.  Elihu  B.  Washborne  was  at  the  30 
station,  however,  when  the  train  arrived,  and  has  thus 


78  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

described  the  incident:  "When  the  train  came  to  a  stand 
I  watched  with  fear  and  trembling  to  see  the  passengers 
descend.  I  saw  every  car  emptied,  and  there  was  no 
Mr.  Lincohi.  I  was  well-nigh  in  despair,  and  when 
5  about  to  leave  I  saw  slowly  emerge  from  the  last  sleeping- 
car  three  persons.  I  could  not  mistake  the  long,  lank 
form  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  my  heart  bounded  with  joy 
and  gratitude.  He  had  on  a  soft,  low-crowned  hat,  a 
muffier  round  his  neck,  and  a  short  bob-tailed  overcoat. 

10  Any  one  who  knew  him  at  that  time  could  not  have 
failed  to  recognize  him  at  once,  but,  I  must  confess ,  he 
looked  more  like  a  well-to-do  farmer  from  one  of  the 
back  towns  of  Jo.  Davies'  County  coming  to  Washington 
to  see  the  city,  take  out  his  land  Avarrant,   and  get  the 

15  patent  for  his  farm,  than  the  President  of  the  United 
States."  Republican  simplicity  indeed  on  the  part  of  one 
whose  life  was  invaluable,  and  upon  whose  words  a  whole 
continent  hung  breathless! 

The  inauguration  of  Lincoln  took  place  on  the  4th 

20  of  March,  1861,  and  a  vast  concourse  of  people  assembled 
at  Washington  to  witness  the  ceremony.  In  closing  his 
memorable  address  on  that  now  historical  occasion,  the 
President  uttered  this  pathetic  appeal  to  the  enemies  of 
the  Government:    "In  your  hands,  my  dissatisfied  fellow- 

25  countrymen,  and  not  in  mine,  is  the  momentous  issue 
of  Civil  War.  The  Government  will  not  assail  you. 
You  can  have  no  conflict  without  being  yourselves  the 
aggressors.  You  have  no  oath  registered  in  Heaven  to 
destroy  the  Government;  while  I  shall  have  the  most 

30  solemn  one  to  preserve,  protect,  and  defend  it.  I  am 
loath  to  close.    We  are  not  enemies,   but  friends.    We 


Abraham  Lincoln.  79 

must  not  be  enemies.  Though  passion  may  be  strained, 
it  must  not  break  our  bonds  of  affection.  The  mystic 
chords  of  memory,  stretching  from  every  battle-field  and 
patriot  grave  to  every  living  heart  and  hearthstone  all 
over  this  broad  land ,  will  yet  swell  the  chorus  of  the  5 
Union,  when  again  touched,  as  surely  they  will  be,  by 
the  better  angels  of  our  nature."  There  was  a  strain  of 
true  poetry,  as  well  as  eloquence,  in  this  appeal;  but 
before  its  aspirations  were  realized,  the  country  was  des- 
tined to  pass  through  a  terrible  baptism  of  blood.  10 

The  South  found  no  elements  of  Aveakness  in  the 
President's  address.  He  met  the  projected  rupture  of  the 
Union  with  the  declaration  that  it  was  perpetual.  "Per- 
petuity," he  said,  "is  implied  in  the  fundamental  law  of 
all  governments.  It  is  safe  to  assert  that  no  G-overnment  15. 
ever  had  a  provision  in  its  organic  law  for  its  own 
termination."  This  firm  but  necessary  attitude  Lincoln 
held  in  public,  while  in  private  he  commended  himself, 
his  country,  and  his  family  to  the  care  and  protection  of 
Almighty  God.  He  was  supported  by  an  able  Cabinet,  20 
but  his  unswerving  trust  was  placed  in  the  great  body 
of  the  people.  Eleven  of  the  discontented  States  seceded, 
and  authorised  Commissioners  to  treat  with  the  Government 
of  the  United  States  for  the  establishment  of  new  rela- 
tions. Lincoln  refused  to  receive  or  recognise  the  25 
Commissioners,  holding  the  Union  to  to  be  one  and  indi- 
visible. Upon  this  issue,  civil  war  ensued.  Fort  Sumter 
was  reduced  on  April  12th,  1861,  and  three  days  later 
the  President,  by  Proclamation,  called  for  75,000  men  of 
the  militia  of  the  States.  Congress  was  convened  in  extra  30- 
Session  for  the  4th  of  July.    A  sum  of  40,000,000  dols. 


80  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

was  at  once  voted,  authority  was  given  to  raise  an  army 
of  500,000  volunteers,  and  ail  previous  calls  for  armed 
force  made  by  the  President  were  ratified.  The  Battle 
of  Bull  Eun,  in  July,  nerved  the  North  to  yet  more  de- 
5  termined  elforts.  Endeavours  were  made  to  commit  the 
Government  to  a  declaration  of  the  independence  of  the 
slaves;  but  at  this  juncture  such  a  step  was  firmly 
resisted,  as  tending  to  confuse  the  issue.  The  Consti- 
tutional position  assumed    by  Lincoln  and  his  Cabinet 

10  was  that  the  War  was  undertaken  for  the  defence  of  the 
Union,  and  this  position  the  President  would  not  suffer 
to  be  obscured. 

Now  began  a  time  of  supreme  difficulty  for  Lincoln, 
but  it  was  one  which  brought  out  the  real  greatness  of 

15  his  nature,  and  caused  a  distinguished  Frenchman  to 
exclaim  that  he  was  superior  to  Caesar.  The  President 
not  only  conducted  the  civil  affairs  of  the  nation,  but 
guided  its  military  affairs  with  a  judgment  and  an  ability 
which  extracted  even  the  admiration  of  his  foes.   Military 

20  operations  conceived  on  a  grand  scale  were  set  in  motion 
at  the  beginning  of  1862.  McClellan's  defeats  caused  for 
a  time  depression  in  the  North,  but  they  were  more  than 
avenged  by  the  victory  over  General  Lee  at  Antietam, 
and  General  Grant's  successes    in  the  West.     Foreign 

25  complications  threatened  also  to  add  to  the  President's 
troubles.  The  seizure  of  the  Southern  Commissioners, 
Messrs.  Slidell  and  Mason,  on  board  the  British  steamer 
Trent,  nearly  precipitated  a  war  with  England,  especially 
as  there  was  likewise   a  strong  party  in  this  country 

30  which  sympathised  with  the  Southern  Confederacy,  and 
some  of  our  shipowners  assisted  that  cause  by  fitting  out 


Abraham  Lincoln.  31 

confederate  privateers,  Lincoln,  however,  declined  the 
mediation  of  the  Emperor  of  the  French ,  and  took  the 
diplomatic  difficulties  into  his  own  hands.  By  timely 
concessions  he  averted  war  with  England,  and  was  enabled 
to  concentrate  his  attention  exclusively  upon  the  Civil  5 
War.  In  September,  1862,  he  proclaimed  that  slaves  in 
all  States  which  should  be  in  insurrection  on  January 
1st,  1863,  would  then  be  declared  free. 

During  this  second  year  of  his  administration,  the 
President  was   visited  by  severe  domestic  trouble   and  10 
anxiety,    in  addition  to   the  public  burdens   he  had  to 
bear.    He  lost  one  son  from  fever,  and  another  was  in 
extreme  danger.      After  the  death  of  his  boy  he  shut 
himself  up  in  his  room,  and  indulged  in  excessive  grief. 
No  one  seemed  to  be   able   to  console  him.     At   last,  15 
Dr.  Vinton ,   of  New  York ,   procured  an  interview  with 
him,  in  the  course  of  which  he  told  Lincoln  frankly  that 
it  was  sinful  to  indulge  in  such  grief.      "Your   son  is 
alive   in  Paradise,"    said  Dr.   Vinton.      "Alive!    Alive!" 
exclaimed  the  President,  starting  to   his  feet;    "Surely  20 
you  mock  me.^'     "No,   my  dear  sir,  believe  me;    Christ 
himself  declares  it."     Lincoln  looked  at  him  a  moment, 
then,   throwing   his  arms   about  the  clergyman's  neck, 
and  laying  his  head  upon  his  shoulder,  he  sobbed  aloud, 
repeating  "Alive!  Alive!"    From  that  time  the  President  25 
was  comforted  by  the  words  of  Christ,   and  no  longer 
mourned  under  the  dread  of  an  eternal  separation.    At 
this  trying  time  he  was  again  warned  against  rebels  in 
Washington,  who  might  assassinate  him,  when  he  replied, 
"I  am  in  God's  hand ;  let  Him  do  with  me  what  seemeth  30 
good  to  Him." 

II  6 


82  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

In  the  year  1863  Lincoln  called  for  300,000  volun- 
teers, to  take  the  places  of  those  whose  term  of  enlistr 
ment  would  expire.  Pardon  was  proclaimed  to  all 
persons  in  arms  against  the  United  States,  upon  con- 
5  dition  of  taking  the  oath  of  allegiance.  The  promised 
proclamation  of  emancipation  to  slaves  in  all  States  in 
insurrection  was  made,  and  the  refusal  to  recognise  the 
Government  of  Maximilian  in  Mexico  was  continued. 
Military   force  was  concentrated  in  New  York   city  to 

10  suppress  serious  riots  which  had  broken  out  in  con- 
sequence of  the  enforcement  of  a  law  for  conscription. 
The  times  were  grave,  and  the  President  in  the  White 
House  was  filled  with  anxiety,  and  would  willingly  have 
exchanged   places    with   the  meanest   soldier  upon    the 

15  battle-field.  On  one  occasion  he  remarked,  "If  it 
were  not  for  my  belief  in  an  over -ruling  Provi- 
dence, it  would  be  difficult  for  me,  in  the  midst  of  such 
complications,  to  keep  my  reason  on  its  seat.  But  I  am 
confident  that   the  Almighty   has  His  plans,    and  will 

20  work  them  out;  and,  whether  we  see  it  or  not,  they  will 
be  the  wisest  and  best  for  us.  I  have  always  taken 
counsel  of  Him,  and  referred  to  Him  my  plans,  and 
have  never  adopted  a  course  of  proceeding  without  being 
assured,  as  far  as  I  could  be,  of  His  approbation." 

25  In  consecrating  the  battle-field  cemetery  near  Gettys- 
burg, in  Nov.,  1863,  the  President  made  this  briet  but 
touchingly  eloquent  speech:  — 

"Four  score  and  seven  years  ago,  our  fathers  brought 
forth   on   this   continent    a  new    nation,    conceived   in 

30  liberty,  and  dedicated  to  the  proposition  that  all  men 
are  created  equal.   Now  we  are  engaged  in  a  great  civil 


Abraham  Lincoln.  83 

war,  testing  whether  that  nation  so  conceived  and  so 
dedicated,  can  long  endure.  We  are  met  on  a  great 
battle-field  of  that  war.  We  have  come  to  dedicate  a 
portion  of  that  field  as  a  final  resting-place  for  those 
who  here  gave  their  lives  that  that  nation  might  live.  5 
It  is  altogether  fitting  and  proper  that  we  should  do 
this.  But,  in  a  larger  sense,  we  cannot  dedicate  —  we 
cannot  consecrate  —  we  cannot  hallow  this  ground.  The 
brave  men  who  struggled  here  have  consecrated  it  far 
above  our  poor  power  to  add  or  detract.  The  world  10 
will  little  note,  nor  long  remember  what  we  say  here, 
but  it  can  never  forget  what  they  did  here.  It  is  for 
us,  the  living,  rather  to  be  dedicated  here  to  the 
unfinished  work  which  they  who  fought  here  have  thus 
far  so  nobly  advanced.  It  is,  rather,  for  us  to  be  here  15 
dedicated  to  the  great  task  remaining  before  us,  that 
from  these  honoured  dead  we  take  increased  devotion 
to  that  cause  for  which  they  gave  the  last  full  measure 
of  devotion;  that  we  here  highly  resolve  that  these 
dead  shall  not  have  died  in  vain;  that  this  nation,  20 
under  God,  shall  have  a  new  birth  of  freedom,  and  that 
government  of  the  people,  by  the  people,  for  the  people, 
shall  not  perish  from  the  earth." 

The  chosen  orator  of  the  day  was  Edward  Everett, 
one  of  the  most  accomplished  speakers  of  the  age ;  but  25 
after  Lincoln  concluded,  Everett  took  his  hand  and 
said :  —  "My  speech  will  soon  be  forgotten ;  yours  never 
wiU  be.  How  gladly  would  I  exchange  my  hundred 
pages  for  your  twenty  lines." 

Lincoln's    relations  with  the  army  are  well  worthy  30 

of  notice.      He  issued  an  order  for  the  better  observance 

6* 


84  Modern  English  Writers  II, 

of  Sunday,  and  deplored  and  rebuked  intemperance  and 
profane  swearing.  Yet  he  was  a  favourite  with  the 
soldiers,  who  alternated  the  endearing  epithet  of  "Father 
Abraham"  with  the  more  familiar  one  of  "Old  Abe." 
5  Many  anecdotes  are  recorded  of  his  respiting  deserters. 
Once  he  was  unable  to  resist  the  pleadings  of  a  babe 
borne  in  its  mother's  arms.  In  another  case  he 
overrode  the  decision  of  Secretary  Stanton,  and  in  many 
subsequent    instances   his    great    tenderness    availed    to 

10  preserve  lives  which  had  been  forfeited  to  the  State. 
Once  a  repentant  soldier  begged  forgiveness  for  fighting 
against  the  North,  and  he  received  it  immediately.  On 
another  occasion,  a  public  man  complained  of  his  Am- 
nesty Proclamation,  and  Lincoln  made  this  truly  Christian 

15  reply:  —  "When  a  man  is  sincerely  penitent  for  his 
misdeeds,  and  gives  satisfactory  evidence  of  the  same 
he  can  safely  be  pardoned,  and  there  is  no  exception  to 
the  rule."  He  grieved  for  those  slain  in  battle,  almost 
as  though  they  were  his  own  sons.    One  morning,  after 

20  a  terrible  engagement,  Secretary  Seward  found  him 
pacing  his  room  in  a  painfully  distressed  condition. 
In  answer  to  the  Secretary's  enquiries,  he  said:  —  "This 
dreadful  news  from  the  hoys  (the  soldiers)  has  banished 
sleep  and  appetite.    Not  a  moment's  sleep  last  night,  nor 

25  a  crumb  of  food  this  morning." 

After  another  hard-fought  battle  he  buried  his  face 
in  his  hands,  exclaiming,  "I  shall  never  more  be  glad!" 
One  of  the  Northern  Army  generals  assured  the  Presi- 
dent that  a  number  of  deserters  must  be  shot  for  the 

30  sake  of  discipline,  but  Lincoln  replied —  "Mr.  General, 
there   are  already  too   many  weeping    widows  in  the 


Abraham  Lincoln.  85 

United  States.    Don't   ask  me   to  add  to  their  number, 
for  I  won't  do  it." 

To  a  mother  in  Boston,   who  had  lost  five  sons  in 
battle,  President  Lincoln  wrote  this  touching  letter :  — 

"Dbae  Mädam,~I  have  been  shown,  in  the  files  of   5 
the  War    Department,   a   statement    of   the    Adjutant- 
General  of  Massachusetts,    that  you  are  the  mother  of 
five  sons,  who  have  died  gloriously  on  the  field  of  battle. 
I  feel  how  weak  and  fruitless  must  be  any  words  of 
mine  which  should  attempt  to  beguile  you  from  the  grief  10 
of  a  loss  so  overwhelming.      But  I  cannot  refrain  from 
tendering  to  you  the  consolation  that  may  be  found  in 
the  thanks  of  the  Republic  they  died  to  save.      I  pray 
that  our  Heavenly  Father  may  assuage  the  anguish  of 
your   bereavement,    and  leave  you  only  the   cherished  15 
memory  of  the  loved  and  lost,  and  the  solemn  pride  that 
must   be  yours  to  have  laid  so  costly  a  sacrifice   upon 
the  altar   ol  freedom.  —   Yours  very  sincerely  and  re- 
spectfully, 

Abeaham  Lincoln."        20 

In  all  the  efforts  for  the  aid  and  relief  of  wounded 
soldiers,  the  President  displayed  untiring  zeal.  The 
kind  of  retaliation  he  wreaked  upon  the  enemies  of  the 
Eepublic  is  demonstrated  by  one  incident.  Some 
trembling  Confederate  prisoners  were  brought  to  his  25 
notice,  when  he  astonished  them  by  taking  each  one  by 
the  hand.  Then  he  said,  "The  solemn  obligations  which 
we  owe  to  our  country  and  posterity  compel  the  pro- 
secution of  this  war.  Many  of  you,  no  doubt,  occupy] 
the  attitude  of  enemies  through  uncontrollable  circum-  30 
stances.     I  bear  no  malice  towards  you,  and  can  take 


86  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

you  by  the  hand  with  sympathy  and  good  feeling." 
Some  of  the  men  were  badly  wounded ,  and  he  added. 
"Be  of  good  cheer,  boys,  and  the  end  will  be  well. 
The  best  of  care  shall  be  taken  of  you."  The  scene 
5  was  very  affecting,  and  many  of  the  Confederate  soldiers 
wept. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Lincoln  was  not  only 
the  saviour  of  his  country,  but  the  liberator  of  a  race. 
By  the  coloured  people  of  the  United  States ,  therefore, 

10  his  name  was  held  in  especial  reverence.  They  journeyed 
from  all  parts  of  the  country  to  do  him  honour,  and  he 
always  received  them  with  courtesy  and  kindness.  This 
treatment  was  so  different  from  that  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed,  that  their  hearts  were  almost  broken 

15  with  joy.  "He's  brought  us  through  the  Bed  Sea", 
"He's  king  of  the  United  States,"  "He  ought  to  be  king 
of  the  world."  Such  were  some  of  the  exclamations  of 
the  freed  negroes,  who  wept  and  laughed  by  turns 
from  excess  of  emotion.      The  loyal   coloured  people  of 

20  Baltimore]  presented  the  President  with]  a  very  costly 
Bible  as  a  token  of  respect  and  gratitude,  and  he 
acknowledged  the  gift  as  follows:  "It  is  the  best  gift 
which  God  has  ever  given  to  man.  All  the  good  from 
the  Saviour  of  the  world  is  communicated  to  us  through 

25  this  Book.  But  for  it  we  could  not  know  right  from 
wi^ong.  All  those  truths  desirable  for  men  are  contained 
in  it.  I  return  you  my  sincere  thanks  for  the  very 
elegant  copy  of  the  Great  Book  of  God  which  you  present." 
A  coloured  woman  of  Philadelphia,  in  making  a  presen- 

30  tation  to  Lincoln,  said,  in  a  tremulous  voice,  "Mr. 
President,  I  believe  God  has  hewn  you  out  of  a  rock 


Abraham  Lincoln.  87 

for  this  great  and  mighty  purpose.  Many  have  ^Deen  led 
away  by  bribes  of  gold,  of  silver,  of  presents;  but  you 
have  stood  firm,  because  God  was  with  you;  and  if  you 
are  faithful  to  the  end,  He  will  be  with  you."  Lincoln, 
with  his  eyes  full  of  tears,  replied,  "You  must  not  give  5 
me  the  praise ;  it  belongs  to  God."  Speaker  Colfax  well 
said  of  President  Lincoln's  Emancipation  Proclamation: 
—  "The  great  act  of  the  mighty  chieftain,  on  which 
his  fame  shall  rest  long  after  his  frame  shall  moulder 
away,  is  that  of  giving  freedom  to  a  race.  We  have  10 
all  been  taught  to  revere  the  sacred  characters.  Among 
them  Moses  stands  pre-eminently  high.  He  received 
the  law  from  God,  and  his  name  is  honoured  among 
the  hosts  of  Heaven.  Was  not  his  greatest  act  the 
delivering  three  millions  of  his  kindred  out  of  bondage?  15 
Yet  we  may  assert  that  Abraham  Lincoln,  by  his  pro- 
clamation, liberated  more  enslaved  people  than  ever 
Moses  set  free,  and  those  not  of  his  kindred  or  his  race. 
Such  a  power,  or  such  an  opportunity,  God  has  seldom 
given  to  man.  When  other  events  shall  have  been  20 
forgotten;  when  literature  shall  enlighten  all  minds; 
when  the  claims  of  humanity  shall  be  recognised  every- 
where, this  act  shall  be  conspicuous  in  the  pages  of 
history.  We  are  thankful  that  God  gave  to  Abraham 
Lincoln  wisdom  and  grace  to  issue  that  Proclamation,  25 
which  stands  high  above  all  other  papers  which  have 
been  penned  by  uninspired  men." 

The  rest  of  the  story  of  the  Civil  War  is  soon  told. 
In  1864  military  operations  were  first  conducted  upon 
an  effective  system,  General  Grant  being  granted  a  free  30 
hand  as  Commander-in-Chief.    Trouble  again  arose  with 


gg  Modern  English  Writers  II. 

England.  A  number  of  Southerners  resident  in  Canada 
abused  the  hospitality  of  that  country  by  the  organisation 
of  a  raid  across  the  border,  and  committed  murder  and 
robbery  in  the  State  of  Vermont.  They  were  arrested, 
5  and  brought  up  on  extradition  proceedings ,  upon  a 
demand  for  their  surrender  to  the  Grovernment  of  the 
United  States;  but  the  judge  discharged  them  from 
custody  on  a  technicality.  Great  irritation  ensued  in 
the  United  States,   and    the    Government  revoked  the 

10  Reciprocity  Treaty,  by  which  Canadian  fishermen  had 
enjoyed  certain  advantages  in  the  American  trade. 
Irregular  Confederate  negotiations  were  opened  for 
settling  terms  of  peace,  and  Lincoln  authorised  Horace 
Greeley  to  hear  the  propositions  of  any  persons  having 

15  authority  from  the  Confederate  Government;  but  the 
scheme  failed,  as  the  President  tenaciously  adhered  to 
the  restoration  of  the  Union  and  the  abolition  of 
slavery. 

The  Presidential  election  occurred  in  November,  1864. 

20  The  National  Convention  assembled  in  Baltimore,  and 
Lincoln  was  again  the  candidate  of  his  party.  The 
votes  of  every  State  except  Missouri  were  cast  for 
Lincoln.  Missouri  gave  her  22  votes  to  General  Grant; 
but  immediately  upon  the   announcement  of  the  ballot, 

25  they  were  transferred  to  Lincoln.  General  McClellan 
was  the  Democratic  candidate.  Lincoln  was  re-elected 
by  the  largest  majority  ever  known  in  Presidential 
elections.  His  popular  majority  411,428,  in  a  total  vote 
of  4,015,902.     As  none  but  the  loyal  States  voted,  the 

30  Electoral  College  vote  was  only  233,  and  of  this  number 
Lincoln    had    212,    and  McClellan  only  21.     The    re- 


Abraham  Lincoln.  89 

election  of  Lincoln  was  practically  the  death-bloAV  of  the 
Eebellion.  The  Eepublicans  urged  a  vigorous  prosecution 
of  the  war,  and  demanded  the  abolition  of  slavery;  but 
the  Democrats  proposed  a  cessation  of  hostilities,  and 
the  settlement  of  all  difficulties  in  a  National  Convention.  5 
The  election  of  Lincoln  expressed  the  deliberate  intention 
of  the  North  to  fight  it  out.  Early  in  1865  another 
abortive  attempt  to  compose  the  quarrel  was  made  at 
Hampton  Eoads,  when  the  President  conferred  with 
authorised  Southern  Commissioners.  10 

Lincoln's  second  inauguration  as  President  of  the 
United  States  took  place  on  the  4th  March,  1865.  To 
a  gigantic  assembly,  the  President  delivered  an  address 
which  has  been  described  as  the  most  remarkable  State 
paper  extant,  and  it  proved  to  be  his  farewell  deliverance  15 
to  the  American  nation.  This  brief  but  moving  address  thus 
concluded:  "The  Almighty  has  His  own  purposes.  ('Woe 
unto  the  world  because  of  offences !  for  it  must  needs  be 
that  offences  come ;  but  woe  to  that  man  by  whom  the  offence 
cometh.')  If  we  shall  suppose  that  American  slavery  is  one  of  20 
those  offences  which,  in  the  Providence  of  God,  must  needs 
come,  but  which,  having  continued  through  His  appointed 
time.  He  now  wills  to  remove,  and  that  He  gives  to 
both  North  and  South  this  terrible  war  as  the  woe  due 
to  those  by  whom  the  offence  came,  shall  we  discern  25 
therein  any  departure  from  those  Divine  attributes  which 
the  believers  in  a  living  God  always  ascribe  to  Him? 
Fondly  do  we  hope  —  fervently  do  we  pray  —  that 
this  mighty  scourge  of  war  may  speedily  pass  away. 
Yet,  if  God  wills  that  it  continue  until  all  the  wealth  30 
piled   by  the  bondsman's  two  hundred  and  fifty  years 


90  Modem  English  Writers  II. 

of  unrequited  toil  shall  be  sunk,  and  until  every 
drop  of  blood  drawn  by  the  lash  shall  be  paid  by  another 
drawn  with  the  sword,  as  was  said  three  thousand  years 
ago,  so  still  it  must  be  said,  'The  judgments  of  the  Lord 
5  are  true  and  righteous  altogether.'  With  malice  toward 
none;  with  charity  for  all;  with  firmness  in  the  right, 
as  God  gives  us  to  see  the  right,  let  us  strive  to  finish 
the  work  we  are  engaged  in;  to  bind  up  the  nation's 
wounds,  to  care  for  him  who  shall  have  borne  the  battle, 

10  and  for  his  widow  and  his  orphan,  to  do  all  which  may 
achieve  and  cherish  a  just  and  lasting  peace  among 
ourselves,  and  mth  all  nations." 

About  three  weeks  after  the  inauguration,  Eichmond, 
the  Southern  capital,  fell.  General  Grant  taking  12,000 

15  prisoners  and  50  pieces  of  artillevy.  Lincoln  entered 
Richmond,  not  as  the  triumphant  conqueror,  but  as  the 
fellow-citizen  of  those  who  had  fallen.  On  the  9th  of 
April  [General  Lee  surrendered  at  Appomattox  Council 
House,  and  the  war  was  virtually  at  an  end.    A  banner 

20  was  soon  waving  over  the  western  portico  of  the  Capitol 
at  Washington,  with  the  inscription  underneath,  "This 
is  the  Lord's  doing;  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes,"  and 
over  the  door  of  the  State  Department  was  written, 
"The  Union,  saved  by  faith  in  the  Constitution,  faith  in 

25  the  people,  and  trust  in  God."  Never  was  peace  more 
joyfully  or  more  enthusiastically  welcomed. 

The  great  desire  of  President  Lincoln's  life  was  now 
accomplished,  and  he  was  about  to  address  himself  to  the 
difficult  problem   of  restoring  the  rebel  States  into  their 

30  proper  position  in  the  Union,  when  he  was  struck  do^Mi  by 
the  hand  of  the  assassin.    The  14th  of  April,  1865,  having 


Abraham  Lincoln,  91 

"been  fixed  upon  as  a  holiday  for  the  loyal  people,  demon- 
strations were  held  during  the  day,  and  at  night  a 
special  programme  was  arranged  at  Ford's  Theatre, 
Washington.  Lincoln  attended,  and  received  a  remark- 
able ovation.  During  the  performance,  John  Wilkes  5 
Booth,  an  actor ,  entered  the  President's  box ,  and 
shot  Lincoln  in  the  head.  He  then  leaped  from 
the  box  on  to  the  stage,  and  exclaimed  "Ac  semper 
tyrannisT  Brandishing  a  gleaming  dagger  he  added, 
"The  South  is  avenged!"  and  escaped  in  the  confusion.  10 
Booth  fled  on  horseback  to  a  farm  near  Fredericsburg, 
where,  refusing  to  surrender,  he  was  shot  some  days  after- 
wards. The  President's  assassination  was  part  of  a  plot 
to  kill  the  members  of  the  Cabinet.  Lincoln  died  the 
next  day,  and  the  country  lamented  him  as  one  of  the  15 
noblest  of  men,  and  the  father  of  his  people.  Old  and 
young  wept  together  for  this  righteous  and  beneficent 
ruler.  Queen  Victoria  and  the  Empress  of  the  French 
wrote  letters  of  condolence  to  the  widow,  and  every 
Government  in  Europe  added  its  sorrowful  meed  to  20 
the  universal  grief.  The  murdered  President  was 
buried  at  Springfield,  and  amongst  the  mottoes  displayed 
in,  the  town  where  he  was  especially  beloved,  and  in 
which  was  his  cherished  home,  was  one  bearing  his  own 
prophetic  words,  "Sooner  than  surrender  this  principle,  25 
I  would  be  assassinated  on  the  spot."  Another  motto 
ran,  "Washington,  the  Father  of  his  country;  Lincoln, 
its  Saviour." 

Examples  of  Lincoln's  magnanimity  and  humour  are 
given  by  all  his  biographers.    When  Stonewall  Jackson,  30 
who  fought  so  bravely  against  the  North,  was  praised 


92  Modem  English  Writers  II. 

by  the  Washington  Chronicle  as  a  brave  soldier,  but  mis- 
taken man,  the  President  wrote  to  the  editor:  —  "I 
honour  you  for  your  generosity  to  one  who,  though 
contending  against  us  in  a  guilty  cause,  was  nevertheless 
5  a  gallant  man.  Let  us  forget  his  sins  over  his  fresh- 
made  grave."  The  same  largemindedness  extended  to 
all  his  enemies,  who  Avere  surprised  at  his  generosity 
where  they  expected  revengefulness  and  vindictiveness. 
His  humour  was  his  "life  preserver,"  and  he  frequently 

10  indulged  in  it  to  iprevent  himself  breaking  down  from 
emotion.  He  laughed  heartily  over  the  Nashy  Papers, 
and  once  thought  of  offering  to  change  places  with  the 
author,  if  the  latter  would  impart  to  him  his  singular 
talent.    When  Lincoln  was  at  the  White  House  he  was 

15  besieged  by  office-seekers,  as  every  President  invariably 
is.  When  thrown  down  by  measles,  he  exclaimed,  "Now 
let  the  office-seekers  come  on ;  I  have  at  last  got  some- 
thing I  can  give  to  all  of  them."  Upon  examining  a 
gun  so  constructed  as  to  prevent  the  escape   of  gas,  he 

20  remarked,  "I  really  believe  this  does  what  it  is  repre- 
sented to  do.  But  do  any  of  you  know  of  any  machine  or 
invention  for  preventing  the  escape  of  gas  from  news- 
paper establishments?"  When  the  members  of  a  dele- 
gation kept  reiterating  to  him  that  there  were  "breakers 

25  ahead,"  he  said  they  reminded  him  of  the  schoolboy  who 
could  not  get  hold  of  the  names  of  Shadrach,  Meshach, 
and  Abednego.  To  the  boy's  sorrow,  although  the 
teacher  had  drilled  him  repeatedly,  the  names  came  on 
once  more,  and  he   was  helpless  before  them.     So  he 

:30  simply  looked  up  and  said,  "Teacher,  there's  them  three 
fellers  again."     When   assured  by  a  clergyman  during 


Abraham  Lincoln.  93 

the  Civil  War  tliat  the  Lord  was  on  his  side,  the  Presi- 
dent replied,  "I  know  that  the  Lord  is  always  on  the 
side  of  the  right.  But  it  is  my  constant  anxiety  and 
prayer  that  I  and  this  nation  should  be  on  the  Lord's  side^ 

Abraham  Lincoln  was  essentially  a  man  of  the  5 
people,  and  lived  for  the  people.  •  Next  in  fame  amongst 
his  countrymen  to  Washington,  history  will  endorse  the 
popular  tribute  to  the  great  Liberator.  It  says  much 
for  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  that  it  can  produce  such  men. 
In  the  record  of  nations  there  is  probably  not  his  equal  for  10 
the  work  he  accomplished.  No  man  ever  conducted  a 
great  nation  through  an  arduous  and  terrible  struggle 
with  more  courage,  patience,  dignity,  and  success,  or  with 
so  little  offence  to  the  liberties  of  the  people  or  the 
common  rights  of  humanity.  Yet  he  was  humble,  frank,  15 
and  gentle  in  his  dealings  with  men ;  given  to  humour, 
even  under  the  pressure  of  the  heaviest  burdens ;  always 
upright,  and  animated  by  a  simple  faith  in  his  Maker. 
His  Proclamation  of  Emancipation  takes  equal  rank  with 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  and  the  Constitution  of  20 
the  United  States ;  and  from  one  point  of  view  it  is  even 
greater,  for  it  was  the  work  of  one  mind.  Estimable  as 
a  man,  Lincoln  was  also  great  as  a  statesman,  and  he 
was  preeminently  one  of  those  characters  who  are  a 
nation's  pride  and  glory. 


The  End. 


Vorliegendes  Bändchen  bildet  den  2.  Band  der 

l^oderiB  English  WHters, 

in  welcher  Sammlung  bis  jetzt  vorliegen: 

Band  1.   Alone  in  London  by  H.  Stretton.  Für  den  Schul- 

gebrauch  bearbeitet  von  Dr,  H.  N  e  h  r  y.  Preis  brocb.  M.  0,75, 

kart.  mit  Wörterbiicli  M.  1. 
Band  3.    Crreat  Engllslimen.    Biograpliieen  für  den  Schul- 

gebraucli  mit  Anmerkungen  herausgegeben  von  Prof.  Dr. 

F.  J.  Wershoven. 
m^  Weitere  Bändchen  sind  in  Vorbereitung.  Bei  der  Aus- 
wahl wird  besonders  darauf  geachtet,  dafs  die  Ausgaben  sowohl  nach 
Inhalt  als  auch  in  den  beigegebenen  Anmerkungen  etc.  schulgerecht 
sind.  Dabei  berücksichtigen  die  Herausgeber  Unter- und  Oberklassen, 
Knaben-  und  Mädchenschulen  gleichmäfsig,  indem  dieselben  bald  Stoff 
für  diese,  bald  für  jene  zur  Ausgabe  bringen. 

Einer  gleich  günstigen  Aufnahme  wie  die  English  Writers 
erfreuen  sich  die 

Prosateurs  modernes, 

von  denen  enthält 

Band  I.  I)e  Plialsbourg  ä  Marseille.  Aventures  de  deux 
enfants,  f.  d.  Schulgebrauch  bearbeitet  nach  Gr.  B  r  u  n  o '  s 
„le  Tour  de  la  France"  von  H.  Bretsch neide r.  4.  ver- 
besserte und  mit  einer  Karte  versehene  Auflage.  Preis 
kart.  mit  Wörterbucli  M.  1,20. 

Das  Erscheinen  von  vier  Auflagen  in  kurzer  Zeit  bürgt  für  die 
Brauchbarkeit  des  Buches. 

Band  II.   Choix  des  meilleurs   contes  h  ma  fille   par 

J,  N.  Bouilly.    Für  den  Schulgebrauch   bearbeitet  von 
H.  Bretschneider.    Preis  kart.  mit  Wörterbucli  M.  1. 

Die  „Contes  ä  ma  fille"  bilden  neben  anderen  Werken  Bouilly's 
eine  bevorzugte  Schullektüre.  In  dieser  Ausgabe  ist  das  für  die  Schule 
weniger  Brauchbare  ausgeschieden.  Die  ausgewählten  neun  Erzählun- 
gen werden  von  der  weiblichen  Jugend  gewifs  mit  Lust  und  Liebe 
gelesen  werden  und  wird  deren  Inhalt  seinen  wohlthätigen  Einflufs 
auf  Geist  und  Gemüt  nicht  verfehlen. 

Band  III.  Recits  et  entretiens  familiers  siir  Fhistoire 
de  France  jusq[u'en  1338  par  E  r  n  e  s  t  L  a  v  i  s  s  e.  2.  Auf- 
lage.   Preis  mit  Wörterbucli  kart.  75  Pf. 

Lavisse's  Werk  ist  für  die  unterste  Stufe  des  Geschichtsunterrichts 
geschrieben  und  übertrifft  an  Einfachheit  und  Xindlichkeit  der  Dar- 
stellung alle  unter  gleichen  Absichten  geschriebenen  Werke,  wie  die 
von  Duruy,  Lame-Fleury  etc.  Von  verschiedenen  Seiten  ist  schon  auf 
die  „recits"  als  geeigneter  Lesestoff  für  Anfänger  hingewiesen  und 
deren  Einführung  bewirkt  worden. 


Band  IV.    Coxites  modernes.     A.  Daudet,   J.  Simon, 
.    St.  Grille,  J.  Claretie,  P.  Bonnetain,  L.  Halevy. 

Mit  erklärenden  Anmerkungen  f.  d.  Scliulgebr.  herausgeg. 

von  Dr.  A.  Krefsner.    Preis  broch.  80  Pf.,  kart.  M.  1. 

Die  sieben  modernen  Erzählungen  bieten  eine  willkommene  Ab- 
wechselung mit  der  historischen  Lektüre.  Sie  enthalten  flüssiges  und 
leichtes  Unterhaltungsfranzösisch,  sind  kurz  und  eignen  sich  daher 
vortrefflich  zu  Sprachübungen.  Der  Lesestoff  ist  harmlos,  der  Text 
klar  und  rein  und  die  Grabe  nach  Inhalt  und  Form  sehr  willkommen. 

Band  V.  La  bouillie  de  ia  comtesse  Bertlie,  par  Alexan- 
dre Dumas.  Für  den  Schulgebrauch  eingerichtet  von 
H.  Bretschneider.    Preis  broch.  35  Pf. 

Band  VI.  Grutenberg,  par  A.  de  Lamartine.  Für  den 
Schulgebrauch  von  H.  Bretschneider.  Preis  broch.  25  Pf. 

Diese  beiden  kleinen  ßändchen  eignen  sich  besonders  dann  zum 
Gebrauch,  wenn  die  Lektüre  eines  gröfseren  ßändchens  beendet  und 
nur  noch  ein  an  Umfang  geringeres  zu  Ende  gelesen  werden  kann. 

Band  VIL  Lettre  de  famille,  par  M"""  Carraud.  Für 
den  Schulgebrauch  bearbeitet.  Preis  broch.  M.  1,  kart. 
mit  Wörterbuch  M.  1,20. 

Band  VIIL    Confidences  d'un  joueur  de  clarinette,  par 

Erckmann-Chatrian.  In  gekürzter  Form  für  den 
Schulgebrauch  bearbeitet  von  H.  Bretschneider.  Broch. 
M.  0,60,  kart.  M.  M.  0,80. 

Bei  dem  litterarischen  Ruf,  den  die  Verfasser  wegen  ihrer  vor- 
trefflichen Schilderungen  und  wegen  des  gemütvollen  Tones  in  ihren 
Erzählungen  geniefsen,  dürfte  sich  auch  dieses  Bändchen  bald  einen 
dauernden  Platz  in  der  französischen  Schullektüre  erobern. 

Band  IX.    La  France  en  Zigzag  par  Eudoxie  Dupuis. 

Im  Auszug,  mit  Anmerkungen,  einem  Wörterbuch  und 
Kartenskizzen  für  den  Schulgebrauch  herausgegeben  von 
H.  Bretschneider.    Preis  kart.  M.  2. 

Das  "Werk  bildet  ein  lehrreiches  Seitenstück  zu  dem  viel  ge- 
lesenen „De  Phalsbourg  ä  Marseille"  und  wird  sich  derselben  freund- 
lichen Aufnahme  zu  erfreuen  haben. 

Band  X.  Jeanne  d'Are,  liberatriee  de  la  France.  Nach 
Joseph  Fahre  für  den  Schulgebrauch  bearbeitet  von 
H.  Bretschneider.    M.  0,50. 

Band  XL  Quand  j'etais  petit.  Histoire  d'un  enfant  par 
LucienBiart.  Mit  Anmerkungen,  Wörterbuch  u.  einer 
Skizze  von  Paris.  Für  den  Schulgebrauch  herausgegeben 
von  H.  Bretschneider.    Preis  kart.  M.  1. 


Band  XII.  ßecits  d'auteurs  modernes.  Henry  de  Bor- 
nier.  Philippe  Deslys.  Paul  Bourget.  M.  Gu- 
stave Guiches.  M.  Charles  Foley.  L.  Halevy. 
Mit  erklär.  Anmerk.  f.  d.  Schulgebr.  herausgeg.  von  Dr. 
Adolph  Kress n er.    Preis  broch.  M.  1,  kart.  M.  1,20. 

Beide  Sammlungen  werden  fortgesetzt  und  sind]  mir  Anerbiet- 
ungen hierfür  stets  willkommen. 


Als  gern  gebrauchte  Uebungsbücher   im  Englischen  dürfen  be- 
zeichnet werden; 

Dreser,  Dr.,  Englische  Synonymik  für  höhere  Lehr- 
anstalten und  zum  Selbstudium.  Grosse  Ausg.  32  Bog. 
M.  6. 

Di*esei*3  Dr.,  Englische  Synonymik  für  Schulen  und  zum 
Selbstudium.  Auszug  aus  dem  grösseren  Werke.  15  Bog. 
M.  2.50. 

Urteile   der  Presse   über   beide  Ausgaben: 

Herrigs  Archiv:  „ —  Man  mufs  dem  Werke  entschiedenes  Lob 
spenden,  denn  es  gehört  zu  den  besten  seiner  Art  etc." 

Central-Organ  fur  die  Interessen  des  Realschulwesens:  „ —  Das  dem 
gröfseren  Werke  gespendete  Lob  gebührt  auch  der  uns  vorliegenden 
Ausgabe  für  Schulen.  Sie  ist  mit  gleicher  Wissenschaftlichkeit  und 
gleichem  pädagogischen  Takt  abgefafst  etc." 

Zeltschrift  für  österreichische  Gymnasien.  Das  Buch  sollte  in  keiner 
Schulbibliothek  fehlen.  Dresers  Buch  ist  sehr  reichhaltig  und  sehr 
brauchbar  etc." 

Magazin  fur  Lehr-  und  Lernmittel :  „Ein  prächtiges  Lernbuch,  das 
bestens  empfohlen  werden  kann." 

Pädagogischer  Jahresbericht:  „Wir  haben  es  hier  nicht  nur  mit 
einem  gediegenen  Werke  deutschen  Gelehrtenfleifses,  sondern  auch 
mit  einem  den  Zwecken  der  Schule  und  des  Privat-Studiums  gleich 
dienlichen  Hilfsmittel  zu  thun." 

Zeitschrift  für  das  Realschulwesen  (Wien):  „—  Das, Buch  wird  den 
Schülern  der  Oberklassen  bei  der  Lektüre  und  beim  Übersetzen  gute 
Dienste  leisten  etc." 

In  gleich  günstiger  Weise   sprechen  sich  noch  eine 
grosse  Anzahl  Urteile  über  das  Werk^aus. 


B^*'  Exemplare  sämtlicher  Werke  zur  Prüfung  stehen 
bereitwilligst  zu  Diensten. 

WolfenbütteL  Julius  Zwisslei". 


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velchem  mehrere 
i  ein  Ende.  Auf 
ser  militärischen 
am  Katharineu- 
i  verwundet,  so 
lais  starb. 

:,   die  Musik  von 
folg  hatte. 

wäre  vollständig 
•er  mir  zur  Hilfe 


Band  XII.  Recits  d'auteurs  modernes.  HenrydeBor- 
nier.  Philippe  Deslys.  Paul  Bourget.  M.  Gu- 
stave Guiches.  M.  Charles  Foley.  L.  Halevy. 
Mit  erklär.  Anmerk.  f.  d.  Schulgebr.  herausgeg.  von  Dr. 
Adolph  Kress n er.    Preis  broch.  M.  1,  kart.  M.  1,20. 

Beide  Sammlungen  werden  fortgesetzt  und  sind]  mir  Anerbiet- 
ungen hierfür  stets  willkommen. 


Als  gern  gebrauchte  Uebungsbücher   im  Englischen  dürfen  be- 
zeichnet werden: 

Dpeser,  Dr.,  Englische  Synonymik  für  höhere  Lehr- 
anstalten und  zum  Selbstudium.  Grosse  Ausg.  32  Bog. 
M.  6. 

DresePg  Dr.,  Englische  Synonymik  für  Schulen  und  zum 
Selbstudium.  Auszug  aus  dem  grösseren  Werke.  15  Bog. 
M.  2.50. 

Urteile   der  Presse   über   beide  Ausgaben: 

Herrigs  Archiv:  „ —  Man  mufs  dem  Werke  entschiedenes  Lob 
spenden,  denn  es  gehört  zu  den  besten  seiner  Art  etc." 

Central-Organ  fur  die  Interessen  des  Realschulwesens:  „ —  Das  dem 
gröfseren  Werke  gespendete  Lob  gebührt  auch  der  uns  vorliegenden 
Ausgabe  für  Schulen.  Sie  ist  mit  gleicher  Wissenschaftlichkeit  und 
gleichem  pädagogischen  Takt  abgefafst  etc." 

Zeitschrift  fur  österreichische  Gymnasien.  Das  Buch  sollte  in  keiner 
Schulbibliothek  fehlen.  Dresers  Buch  ist  sehr  reichhaltig  und  sehr 
brauchbar  etc." 

Magazin  fur  Lehr-  und  Lernmittel :  „Ein  prächtiges  Lernbuch,  das 
bestens  empfohlen  werden  kann." 

Pädagogischer  Jahresbericht:  „Wir  haben  es  hier  nicht  nur  mit 
einem  gediegenen  Werke  deutschen  Gelehrtenfleifses,  sondern  auch 
mit  einem  den  Zwecken  der  Schule  und  des  Privat-Studiums  gleich 
dienlichen  Hilfsmittel  zu  thun." 

Zeitschrift  fur  das  Realschulwesen  (Wien):  „—  Das, Buch  wird  den 
Schülern  der  Oberklassen  bei  der  Lektüre  und  beim  Übersetzen  gute 
Dienste  leisten  etc." 

In  gleich  günstiger  Weise   sprechen  sich   noch  eine 
grosse  Anzahl  Urteile  über  das  Werk^aus. 


H^^  Exemplare  sämtlicher  Werke  zur  Prüfung  stehen 
bereitwilligst  zu  Diensten. 

Wolfenbüttel.  JuBiuS  Zwissler. 


7/   :^oo9.  c^V  0^50^ 


Anmerkungen  und  Wörterbuch  zu  Autobiography 
of  a  Slander. 

Bearbeitet  von  Camilla  Hammond. 


Anmerkung-en. 

Chippendale  Name  eines  Mannes,  der  Erfinder  einer  zierlichen  Art 
von  Zimmermöbeln.  Chippendale -Stühle  und  Tische  zeichnen 
sich  besonders  durch  sehr  dünne,  fein  gedrechselte  oder  g-eschnitzte 
Beine  aus. 

Rector.  Curate,  Archdeacon:  Englische  Kirche:  An  der  Spitze  der- 
selben stehen  zwei  Erzbischöfe,  von  Canterbury  und  York. 
Ersterer  ist  Primas  von  ganz  England.  Unter  diesen  stehen  die 
Bisthümer,  welche  in  85  Erzdiakonate  (Archdeaconries)  und  613 
Dekaneien  (Deaneries)  zerfallen:  daher  Archdeacon,  Dean.  Die 
niedere  Geistlichkeit  teilt  sich  in  Incumbents  oder  Eectors 
(Pfarrer)  und  Curates  (Hilfsgeistliche),  welche  im  Dienst  eines 
Pfarrers  stehen. 

Nihilist  Bezeichnung  für  die  Anhänger  einer  in  Eussland  hervor- 
getretenen und  weitverbreiteten  Anschauungsweise  (Nihilismus), 
welche  nach  der  Zertrümmerung  der  geschichtlichen  Grundlagen 
der  Gesellschaft  und  des  Staats  strebt  und  rein  materialistische 
oder  sozialdemokratische  oder  auch  ganz  utopistische  Ziele  ver- 
folgt. 

Russian  Emperor.  Im  März  1881  machte  ein  von  der  Nihilisten- 
partei sehr  geschickt  angelegtes  Attentat,  an  welchem  mehrere 
Personen  beteiligt  waren,  dem  Leben  Alexanders  ein  Ende.  Auf 
der  Fahrt  von  der  Michaelmanege,  wo  der  Kaiser  militärischen 
Uebungen  beigewohnt  hatte,  zum  Winterpalais  am  Katharinen- 
kanal,  wurde  er  durch  Dynamitbomben  tödlich  verwundet,  so 
dass  er  anderthalb  Stunden  später  im  Winterpalais  starb. 

Mikado  eine  komische  Oper,  der  Text  von  Gilbert,  die  Musik  von 
Arthur  Sullivan,  welche  in  England  grossen  Erfolg  hatte. 

I  should  have  been  altogether  baffled  if  ...  .  Ich  wäre  vollständig 
zurückgeschlagen  worden,  wenn  nicht  der  Pfarrer  mir  zur  Hilfe 
gekommen  wäre. 

n  7 


2  Autobiog-rapliy  of  a  Slander. 

District  visitors.  In  England  ist  es  allgemein  Sitte  bei  den  Damen 
der  besseren  Stände,  dass  sie  die  Armen  in  ihren  Wohnungen 
regelmässig-  besuchen ;  es  Avird  daher  jeder  Ort  in  eine  Anzahl 
Distrikte  eingeteilt  und  diese  werden  an  verschiedene  Damen 
vergeben,  welche  die  Pflicht  haben,  dem  Eector  oder  Curate,  dem 
die  Seelsorge  des  Kirchspiels  obliegt,  Bericht  über  die  Zustände 
zu  erstatten  und  Eat  und  Hilfe  bei  ihnen  zu  holen. 

Choir  treat.  Auf  dem  Lande  wird  alljährlich  ein  Fest,  gewöhnlich 
in  der  Form  eines  Picknicks,  für  die  Mitglieder  des  Kirchenchors, 
die  ihre  Dienste  unentgeltlich  leisten,  veranstaltet. 

victoria    kleiner  einspänniger  offener  Wagen. 

Like  a  green  hay-tree.  Psalm  37  V.  35.  „Ich  habe  gesehen  einen 
Gottlosen,  der  war  trotzig,  und  breitete  sich  aus,  und  grünete 
wie  ein  Lorbeerbaum." 

Preacher.  Der  Prediger  Salomo,  Kap.  12  V.  12  „denn  viel  Bücher- 
machens  ist  kein  Ende." 

He  loas  in  the  full  swing  of  that  novel  lohich  had  suggested  itself .  .  . 
er  war  in  voller  Arbeit  an  der  Novelle,  die  sich  ihm  aufgedrängt 
hatte  .  .  . 

Truckle-bed  ßollbett,  ein  niederes  Bettgestell,  das  unter  ein  anderes 
geschoben  werden  kann,  daher  von  den  Armen  bei  Eaummangel 
oft  gebraucht. 

His  heart  began  to  fail  him  .  .  .  sein  Mut  begann  zu  sinken ;  heart 
wird  oft  für  Mut  gebraucht,  z.  B.  to  be  of  (or  in)  good  heart 
guten  Mutes  sein  etc. 


Wörterbuch. 


abode  Slufent§aIt§ort ;  3So§ming. 

abroad  im  3Xit§Ianb. 

abruptly  jäfi;  |Dlö|Iict). 

absence  5lbiDe)en^ett. 

abuse     ©dimä^ungen ;     to     abuse 

jc^mä^en;  miB6rQU(^en. 
according-  to  gemä^. 
account  Seric^t ;  on  no  —  auf  feinen 

Saa. 

accusation  5tnfIoge. 
aching-  fd[)meräenb. 
acquaintance  33efannt[c^aft. 
acquisition  Eroberung, 
action  X'i)at;  |)anblung. 
actor  (5cf)Quf|)teIer. 
actually  tt)irllt(i). 
addition  ^injufe^ung. 
adjoining  ftd)  anjc^Iie^enb. 
admire  beiüunbern. 
admission  Einräumung, 
admit  gefielen. 
advanced  :^eröorragenb. 
advice  9?at. 
aesthetic  äftl^ettfc^. 
affected  angegriffen, 
afloat  verbreitet. 
afraid,  to  be,  ftc§  fürd^ten. 
agree  übereinftimmen. 
aid  ^ilfe. 
air  ifldohie. 

aisle    ®ang    ober    i^Iügel    in   einer 
mri^e. 


j  alacrity  33ereitiuiüigfeit. 
'  alarming-  erfd)recfenb. 
I  alter  änbern. 
altogether  gönglid^. 
!  amazement  (Srftaunen. 
amiss,  nothing  came  amiss  to  her 

fie  na^m  mit  altem  öorlieb. 
amount  Summe;  to  amount  fteigen 

bi§  ^u,  tnerben. 
amusement  ^eluftigung. 
angel  Engel, 
angle  ^infel. 
angry  äornig;  örgerlic^. 
Anglican  Communion  bie  englif(^e 

@taat§firc^e. 
animated  lebl^aft. 
announce  melben. 
annoyed  ärgerlid^. 
annoyance  SSerbruß;  3lrger. 
answer  antluorten. 
antipathy  5lbneig«ng. 
apace  §ufe{)enb§. 
apparent  augenfd)einlid^. 
appear  erfcbeinen. 
appearance  9tu§fe^en. 
approachable  gugönglid). 
approve  bißigen, 
apt  geneigt;  ba§u  bered)net. 
arm-chair  Sel^nftul^I. 
arrange  einrichten, 
ashamed  (to  be)  fid^  fd)ömen. 
aside  beifeite. 
assassination  9Reud§eImorb. 


7* 


4 


Wörterbuch. 


assent  betfttmmen. 

assert  beteuern;  be^au^jten. 

assure  Derfti^ern. 

astray  (to  go)  irre  ge^en. 

at  first  sight  beim  erften  Slnblicf. 

atheist  ®otte§öerIeugner. 

attack  Stngriff. 

attempt  5ßerfu(^. 

attend  begleiten;  beitoo^nen. 

attention  'Slufmerffamfeit. 

attract  an^ie^en. 

audacity  ^ii^n^eit. 

author  ^erfaffer. 

authorities  Wlad^tifabev ;  ^Beamter. 

avail  nü^en. 

avenge  räd)en. 

average  ®urrf)frf)nitt. 

avowed  o^ne  i)e^I. 

awaken  eriuecfen. 

await  beöorfte^en ;  tuarten  auf;  er= 

luarten. 
aware  (to  be)  linffen. 
awful  fcf)auerl{^. 
awkward  ungejd)tc!t. 


B. 


background  |)tntergrunb. 

bachelor  QunggefeE. 

baffle  Dereiteln. 

bag  ©act;  Safd)e. 

banter  9Jecferei. 

bar,  to  be  called  to  the  bar  al§ 

5Xbt)o!at  gum  ^latboljer  gugelaffen 

loerben. 
bargain  (into  the)  obenbrein. 
bask  fid)  fonnen. 
bay-tree  Sorbeerbaum. 
beam  ftraf)Ien;  to  b.   on   someone 

Qemanb    mit   fira^Ienbem  Säbeln 

empfangen, 
bear  tragen;  ertragen, 
beat  fd^Iagen;übenDtnben;  dead  beat 

ganä  fd)acf)matt. 
beg  bitten, 
belongings  @ad)en. 
benevolent  iUDf)lmonenb. 
bereavement  35erluft. 
beside  one's  self  au^er  fic^. 


betrothal  SSerlobung. 

betrothed  öerlobt;  SSerlobte. 

between  ourselves  unter  un§. 

bid  fair  berft)redöen. 

bit  loenig;  ©tüddien. 

blank  leer. 

bleed  bluten. 

blighting  öerntc^tenb ;  blight  mef)U 

t:^au. 
blissful  glüdfelig. 
block  of  buildings  §äuferüierecf. 
blood  S3(ut. 
body  ^ör|)er. 
bore  langweilen, 
bowl  ©rfiale;  S^apf. 
brain  (^e^irn;  ©eift;  ^opf. 
brain  fever  ©e^irnentgünbung. 
branch  ^^^^G- 
brave  tapfer;  mutig, 
bread  $8rob. 
break   into,    broke,    broken,   au§= 

brecben. 
break  übertreten, 
breakfast  g-rüöftücf. 
breast  S3  ruft. 
breath  Sltemjug. 
breeze  (soft)  fanfter  SSinb. 
brief  furj 
bright  f)efi. 
brilliancy  ©lang. 
brink  Oianb ;  to  be  on  the  brink  of 

im  S3egriff  fein. 
build,  built,  built  bauen, 
building  ©ebäube. 
burdensome  laftig. 
burglar  9?acbtbieb. 
burn  brennen, 
business  ®efd)öft. 
busy  gefd)äftig;  üiel  befd)äftigt. 


C. 

call  JBcfud)  mad)en;  rufen. 

calm  down  berufiigen. 

candidly  offen. 

capable  fätjtg. 

capital  famoS;  au§ge§eid)net. 

caricatui-e  ßei-'i'bÜb. 

carry  tragen. 


Wörterbuch. 


charge 


carry  on  fortführen. 

care  ©orge;  to  take  care  of  ©orge 

tragen  für. 
catch  one's  self  up  fic^  unterbre^en ; 

catch  sight  of  erblidEen. 
cause  <Baä)t;  öerurfa^en. 
ceaseless  unaufhörlich, 
cell  Belle, 
chance  ?lu§fic^t ;  3uf alt ;  (Gelegenheit; 

gjJöglid^feit. 
change  SBed^f el ;  SSeränberung,änbern. 
chambers   ^SSo^nung;    ß^^^^^^i'^si'^c- 
chapter  Capital, 
charge    S3ef d)ulbigung ;    in 

unter  5tuffid^t. 
charm  9?eiä. 
charming  rei^enb. 
check  prüif galten, 
cheek  SSange. 
cheer  aufl^ettern. 
cheese  Ääfe. 
chief  §aupt;  §äu|)tling. 
choir  ß|or. 

church-bells  ßirc^englorfen. 
churchyard  ^trd):^of. 
circumstances  Umftänbe. 
claim  51nf^3ru(^  ;  6eanf|3ruc^en. 
clear  tiar;  reinigen, 
clergyman  ©eiftlic^er. 
clever  flug;  gef(i)tdt. 
clipped  gefdjuitten. 
close  eng;  close  to  bid)t  an- 
closely  genau, 
clothes  l^Ieibuiiggftücfe. 
cluster  ©trou^c^en;  gtueig. 
coincidence  gufammentreffen. 
comfort  2;roft. 
commandment  ©ebot. 
common  geltiö|nIicE) ;  in  common  ge= 

meinfam. 
commonplace      abgebrof  d^en ;      ®e= 

nxetnbla^. 
communication    9Za(^ric^t ;    WlitkU 

lung, 
comparatively  t)er^äItni§möJBtg. 
compensation  (Srfa^. 
completely  öoUftänbig. 
complicity  5!Jlitfcf)uIb. 
comprehension  .  SSerftanb ;     Segriff . 
compromised  beteiligt. 


conceit   ©itelfeit;   to   be  eaten   up 

with  conceit  ^öd^ft  felbftgufrieben 

fein, 
concept  S3egriff. 
concerned,  to  be  concerned  in  be= 

teiligt  fein  bei. 
conclusion  ©d^Iufe. 
condition  3wft«nb;  fiage. 
confess  benennen;  gefte^en. 
!  confounded  t»ertüünf(i)t. 
I  confront  gegeniiberftellen. 
I  congenial  angenehm. 
!  congregation'  ©emeinbe. 
connection  SSegie^ung ;  SBerbinbung. 
I  conscience  ®ett)iffen. 
conscious  belrufet. 
consent  einwilligen, 
considerable  beträ(i)tlirf|. 
constant  beftänbig. 
consult  ftcf)   beraten  mit;    ju  9\ate 

gießen, 
contempt  SSerad^tung. 
convenient  bequem, 
converge  sufammentreffen. 
convince  überzeugen, 
colour  fyarbe 
copy  ^OfJanuffript. 
cordially  ^erälid). 
corner  @cfe. 
cottage  §äu§d[)en. 
course  Souf;  in  the  course   of  im 

Saufe, 
courteous  'ööflic^. 
crave  üerlangen. 
credit  ©tauben;  to  give   credit  to 

®Iauben  fd)en!en. 
crowd  out  auSbrangen. 
cruelty  ©roufamfeit. 
cry  (5d)rei;  D^uf. 
cynical  cl)nifcf). 


dainty  gierlid}. 

dangerous  gefä^rlid}. 

dark  bunfel. 

dead  beat  ganj  f^adjmatt. 

dearly  innig. 

dearth  SKangel. 


6 


Wörterbuch. 


deathly-lively  :^aI6  abgeftorben. 

deceive  tauften. 

deepen  bertiefen. 

degree  ®rab;  %c'ü. 

delay  ^ßergug. 

delicate  gart. 

delicious  föftltd). 

delig-hted  ettt§üdt. 

delude  l^interge^en. 

denial  Säugnen. 

departure  Slbreife. 

depths  Sütefe. 

describe  befdireiben. 

description  SBe[d)rei6intg. 

desert  Söüfte. 

deserve  üerbtenen. 

desolate  eirtfom;  üerlaffen. 

desperate  beräinetfelt. 

despotism  3tuang'^errfrf)aft. 

dessert  9?ad)ti)d}. 

destination  33efttmnuing§ort. 

destroy  gerftoren;  öernid)ten. 

destruction  3e^"[ti-^i'ui^Ö- 

details  (Sin^el^eiten. 

detention  ^aft. 

detest  berabjd)eueii. 

develope  ftd^  entlüicfeht. 

devote  one's  self  \id)  wtbmen. 

devotion  (ärgebung. 

devotedly,   to  be  devotedly  fond  of 

gärtltc^  lieben, 
die  fterbeit. 
difficult  fd)luer. 
dimensions  ®rö^e. 
disadvantage  ^?ad)teiL 
discomfort  "Unmut ;  9Jcipe()agen. 
discover  entbeden. 
disease  ^ranffieit. 
disgust  (Stel;  5(bfd)eu. 
disguise  SSerfleibung. 
dislike  nic^t  mögen, 
dismiss  entlaijen;  ablueifen. 
disprove  al§  unuial}v  beiueifeu. 
disreputable    einen     [d)Ied)ten    din] 

|abenb;  gemein, 
dog  nad)f^üren ;  berfolgen. 
document  (Srf)rt[tftüd. 
dominions  $Reid) ;  .'perrf(^nft. 
doom  Verurteilen, 
dormant  jd)(afenb;  Verborgen. 


doubly  bo|)^eIt. 

dove  Staube. 

downstairs    bie    2;re)D|)c    hinunter; 

unten, 
drag  gießen ;  to  drag  slowly  on  Iang= 

fam  Dergel^en. 
draw  near  nä^er  treten, 
draw  the  line  bie  ©ren^e  §ie^en. 
drawer  (Sd)ublabe. 
drawing-room  ©alon. 
dreaded  gefürchtet, 
dreadful  fc^redltd). 
dream  2;raum ;  träumen, 
dreary  meland)ülifd) ;  trübe, 
dress  ftc^  anüetben. 
drive,  drove,  driven  treiben, 
drowsy  f(^Iäfrig. 
dull  langweilig, 
duly  gebii^renb. 
dumb  ftumm. 
during  iüäi)renb. 
duty  ^^f({d)t;  off  duty  bienj'tfrei. 
dwelling  ^oljnung. 


E. 


eager  eifrig. 
ear  G^r. 
earn  öerbienen. 
earnestly  ernftlid). 
easy  Ieid)t. 

ebullition  5(ufiyaUung. 
eclipse  in  ben  ©chatten  ftetten. 
efface  berluifdien. 
effort  9(nftrengung. 
else  fünft ;  anberS. 
embrace  umarmen, 
embitter  verbittern, 
emphatically  mit  9fad)brurf. 
employment  33efd)äfttgung. 
empty-headed  §otjIfö)3fig. 
encoiirage  ermutigen, 
engaged  Derlobt. 
engross  in  5(nfprud)  nef)men. 
enjoyment  ©enu^. 
enliven  aufmuntern,  beleben, 
enormous  ungef)euer. 
enter    one's    head     in    ben    @iun 
fommen ;  einfallen. 


Wörterbuch. 


entrance  Eingang. 

envelope  ©ouöert. 

envelope  bebeden;  eintDirfefn. 

envy  beneiben. 

equal  gleid)en;  Qldä). 

escape  entfommen;  entgc'^en. 

escape  one's  memory  entfallen. 

escort  geleiten. 

estimable  f(^ägcn§luert. 

eve  SSorabenb. 

even  fogar;  jelbft;  gerabe. 

evensong-  9Jad^mittag§=  unb  Slbenb- 

@Dtte§bten[t. 
evidence  ß^ugniS. 
evident  !Iar;  augenfc^einlt(^. 
evil  SofeS, 
evil-doer  Übelt^äter. 
exact  genau, 
examine  l^riifen. 
example  Seif|3tef. 
exceedingly  auBerorbentlid). 
excitable  erregbar, 
excited  aufgeregt, 
excitement  5lufregung. 
excuse  @ntfd)ulbigung ;  entfd)ulbigen. 
executioner  «Scharfrichter, 
exercising'-g-round  @jeräier|jla^. 
exert  fid)  anftrengen. 
experience  ©rfal^rung. 
express  auSbrüden. 
expression  ?lu§brud. 
extent  3lu§bel}nung ;    to   a  certain 

extent  bi§  §u  einem  getuiffen  ©rab. 
extremity  (last)  äu^erfle  9^ot. 


F. 


fact  S;^otfad)e. 

failure  5D^ifeIingen;  ^ä^erfolg, 

fain  (to  be)  genötigt  fein. 

faint  fd)lüad). 

faithful  getreu. 

falsehood  öüge. 

fancy,    to   have  a   fancy  for  eine 

S5orIiebe  :^aben  für. 
farce  ^offe. 

fare  ^oft;  homely  fare  einfadje  Soft. 
farewell  Sebelnoll. 
fashion  SSJiobe;  SBeife. 


fast  flottlebenb. 

fate  @cf)idfal. 

fathom  gritnben. 

favourite  Siebling ;  general  favourite 

allgemein  beliebt, 
fearful  furd)tbar. 
feature  ®eftd)t§äitg. 
feel  fii^^Ien ;    to  feel  at  home   fid) 

^dmifd)  füllen;   to  feel  out  of  it 

fid)  au^gefc^Ioffen  fiil^Ien. 
fellow  ^enfd). 
fiction  (Srbic^tung. 
fiddle  ©eige;  to  play  second  fiddle 

eine  untergeorbnete  Dbtte  fpielen. 
fight,  fought,  !ämpfen  fought, 
figure  of  speech  Df^ebeftgur. 
fill  füllen. 

finally  enblid);  fc^Iie^lid). 
finely  fd)ön. 

fit  in  with  Raffen  gu ;  fit  for  :paffeub. 
flag  erfc^Iaffen. 
flash  aufflammen;  leuditen. 
flatter  fc^meidjeln. 
flavour  ^eigefd)mad. 
flesh  ?yleifd). 
flint  Äiefelftein. 
flippant  Icidjtfertig. 
flood  überfluten, 
flourish  blühen, 
flow  (Strom. 
fluent  fliefeenb. 
flush  91öte. 
follow  folgen, 
food  5Za:^rung. 
foolish  t^Drid)t. 
force    §iuingen;    force    open    auf= 

bred)en. 
foreigner  5(u§Iänber. 
forge  fc^mieben. 

forget,  forgot,  forgotten  bergeffen. 
fortnight  üierge^n  t;age. 
fortune-hunter  ©ludgjager. 
fraud  SSetrug. 
frequent  l)äufig. 
frisk  ppfen. 
furniture  Wöhd. 
future  3w?"nft. 


G. 


gaily  luftig. 


8 


Wörterbuch. 


gain  geirinnen. 

game  Spiel. 

gaoler  ®efängni§tüärter. 

gas-burner  ®a§brenner. 

gasping  !eu^enb. 

gaunt  £)ager. 

genius  ©enie. 

genuine  ed)t. 

get  up  auffte^^en. 

gingham  ^^atift. 

give  colour   to    dnen  Slnftxid^  ber 

'i3at)r^eit  qeben. 
give  way  ftd^    gelten  laffen;  ita(^= 

geben, 
glance  f8M;  bitden. 
gleam  Bixai)!. 
glorify  öer^errlic^en. 
glove  §anbfd^ub. 
glow  5föärme;  ©lut. 
good-looking  fi^ön ;  öon  angenelfimen 

Slu^ern. 
good-nature  ®ut:^eräig!eit. 
go  on  with  firf)  auf füt)ren ;  betragen, 
gorgeous  glän^enb. 
gossip  .^latfd). 
graciously  gnäbig. 
graphic  lebHaft;  grapl^ifd^. 
gravity  2öid)tigfeit ;  ©ruft, 
greet  grüf]cn. 
grey  grau, 
grief  Summer, 
grim  grimmig;  jdjredlic^. 
grow,  grew,  grown  tnerben;  roai^fen; 

grow  upon  one  [idj  einreiben  bet 

iinem. 
growth  Sßad)§tum. 
grumble  murren, 
guard  "^ad^t;    bett)ad)en;    to   keep 

guard  SSacfie  :^alten. 
guess  erraten, 
guest  ®aft. 


H. 

hand  reichen. 

hangings  35orf)änge. 

happy  glüdlid). 

harass  ^eimfuc^en. 

hardly  faum;  hardly  ever  feiten. 


harmonise  ^harmonieren. 

hate  Raffen. 

haunt  :^eimfuc^en;  befdjäftigen. 

heat  §i^e. 

hectic  6e!tifd^;  fieberl^aft. 

height  ©rijfee;  ^ö^e. 

help  öilfe;  cannot  help  !ann  nid)t 

umt)tn. 
helplessness  |)iIfIoftgfett. 
herald  üerfünben. 
hero  ^clb. 
hesitate  zögern, 
hideous  ^ä^Iid). 
hitherto  bi§^er. 
hold  |)a(t;  ©etoalt. 
holiday  geiertag;  f^erten. 
hollow  fio^I. 
honest  e^rlii^. 
honourable  e^ren^aft. 
hoodwink  blenben;  täufd)en. 
hope  boffen. 
horror  entfe^en. 

hostess  SSirtin :  bie  S)ame  be§  §aufe§. 
hospitable  gaftfrei. 
hour  (gtunbe. 
hover  about  umfd)li)eben. 
humdrum  langiueilig. 
hurry  eilen, 
hurried  eilig;  ftüd)tig. 


idler  SOcü^tggänger. 

ignore  überfe^en. 

injure  fcf)aben. 

imaginable  benfbar. 

imaginary  eingebilbet;  erfunben. 

imagine  fid)  einbilben. 

imitate  nacbabmen. 

immediately  fogteic^. 

impassive  unbeineglid) ;  auSbrudvIo^. 

impatiently  ungebulbig. 

impression  (Sinbrucf. 

impressionable  eine§  (ginbrud^  fäljig. 

impressive  imponierenb. 

imprisonment  ®efangenfd)aft. 

improve  \id}  beffern. 

improvise  au§  bem  «Stegreif  fpielen. 

impunity  (with)  ftrafIo§. 


Wörterbiicli. 


incline  neigen. 

increase  üermeOrcu. 

incredulity  Unglaube. 

indignation  ©nipörung. 

indispensable  nnentbet)rltcf). 

infancy  ^ttnbl^ett. 

inflnence  (ginfhi^. 

informant  CliieHe;  33enadH'id)tiger. 

information  9?ad)rid)t. 

injustice  llngeredjtigfeit. 

illness  J^ranf^eit. 

innocent  unfdiulbici. 

inquiry  (to  make)   fid)  erhtnbigen, 

instance  (for)  gum  S3et):pie(. 

instead  anftatt. 

institution  9lnftalt. 

interfere  fid)  einmif^en. 

interrupt  unterbred)en. 

interval  3ififd)ent)aufe. 

intolerable  unerträglid). 

introduce  eiufüf)ren. 

invaluable  unid)ä^bar. 

involve  mit  fid)  bringen;  einfdjlie^en, 

inward  imieriid). 


J. 


jest  ®d)er5. 
journey  Sffeife. 
just  gerabe;  geredit. 


K. 


keen  fd)arf. 

keep  galten;  bef)altext. 

keep  from  abr)alten. 

keyboard  S^aftatur. 

kitb  and  kin  g-reunbc  unb  3>enuanbte. 

kitten  Ä'ät,d)en. 

kneel,  knelt,  knelt  fttieen. 

knock  about  ftd)  um^ertreiben. 

knowledo-e  Kenntnis. 


L. 


labour  under  feiben  on. 
lack  of  9JtangeI  an. 


late  üerftorben;  f|)ät. 

latent  (is)  fd)Iummert. 

laug-b  lad)en. 

law  ©efel^. 

lawn  Oiafenpla^. 

lay,  laid,  laid  legen. 

lay  at  one's  door  Sinem  bie  (Si^ulb 

geben, 
lazy  träge. 

lead,  led,  led  führen, 
leave,  left,    left  berlofjen;    to  get 

leave  (Srlaubni^  betommen. 
lectern  öefe|3ult. 
left  Iinf§. 

lie  lügen;  lie,  lay,  lain  liegen, 
light  Sid)t. 
light  up  aufleuditen. 
lightening  S3Iitiftra|I. 
likely  iua^rfd)emlic^. 
linger  bleiben;  goubern. 
lingering  langfam. 
lip  Sippe. 
lithe  ge)d)meibtg. 
lively  lebhaft, 
long  fid)  fef)neu. 
lonely  einfam. 
loose  (ofe. 

loquacious  fd)H)atj§aft. 
lose,  lost,  lost  öerlieren. 
loud  laut. 

lower  the  voice  bie  Stimme  bämpfen. 
luckless  ungliidHd). 
lunch  gtneites  gi'ü^ftücf. 
lung  Sunge. 
luxury  SujuS. 


main  (in  the)  im  gangen. 

make  up  one's  mind  fid)  entfc^Iie^en ; 

gur  Älar^eit  fommen. 
make  much  of  lüert  galten;  freunb= 

lid)  empfangen, 
manage  fertig  bringen;  gelingen, 
manager  SSerinalter. 
management  ^e^anblung. 
manner  3(rt  unb  SSeife. 
!  marriage  ipei^at. 
marry  getreten. 


10 


Wörterbuch. 


match  Partie. 

matter  <Sad^e. 

matter  of  fact  X^atfac^e. 

material  ©toff. 

maturity  3^cife. 

master  ^au^l^err. 

mean  beabfic^tigen;  bor^abcn. 

meanwhile  unterbeffen. 

meddlesome  aufbringlid). 

meerschaum  9}ieer)"c^aum=^feiffe. 

meet,  met,  met  Begegnen;  treffen. 

meeting-  3itfimmen!unft. 

member  'ij^itglieb. 

memory  ®ebäc^tni§. 

mention  ermäl^nen. 

mere  bIo§. 

message  5tuftrag;  Sotfdiaft. 

migrate  iiberfiebeln. 

mighty  mäc£)tig. 

mind  ©eift;  SSerftanb;  ®emüt. 

mindful  of  eingeben!. 

mischief  Unl^eil. 

miserable  elenb. 

misery  (Slenb. 

misunderstanding  5!Jtifet)erftänbnt§. 

mix  with  öeile^ren  mit. 

mockery  §o^n;  (g^ott. 

monad  SKonabe;  ba§  fleinfte  Sebe= 

niefen. 
monotony  Sintönigfeit. 
mood  (Stimmung 
mortal  «Sterblid^er. 
motion  Setüegung. 
mournful  traurig, 
movement  SSetüegimg. 
•music-stool  ^laljierftul^I. 
murmur  murmeln;  flüftern. 
muse  na(i)ben!en. 
muster  §ufammenbrtngen. 
mutter  murmeln, 
mutual  gegenfeittg. 
mystery  ®e§eimnt§. 


N. 


narrow  eng^ergig;  eng;  be)ci^rän!t. 
need  nötig  |aben. 
neighbourhood  ®egenb. 
neighbourly  nac^barlid^. 


newspaper  3ci^"i^9- 
nonchalance  9^ad^Iäfftg!ett. 
nonentity  ^fJit^tigfett. 
noteworthy  bemerlengwert. 
notice  Slufmerffamfett 
notion  Qbee;  Segriff. 
novelist  9tomanf(^retber. 
now-a-days  ^eutgutage. 
nuisance  (what  a !)  trie  unangcttc'^m ! 


0. 

obscure  bunfel. 

occupy  befc^äfttgen. 

occur  to  einfallen. 

occurrence  SSorfommen;  is  of  fre- 
quent 0  !ommt  f)änfig  bor. 

odd  feltfam. 

odour  ®uft. 

offence  SSerge^en. 

offer  of  marriage  |)eirat§antrag. 

officious  aubrtnglid). 

open  offen;  in  the  open  air  tm 
freien. 

opinion  ^Ketnung. 

opportunity  ©elegenl^ett. 

oppress  bebriiden. 

orange-coloured  orangenfarbene. 

order  SSefe^I. 

ordinary  gemöfinlid). 

origin  Urfprung. 

orphan  SSatfe. 

ought  foUte. 

out  and  out  burd)  unb  burc^. 

outer  allien;  äußere. 

over-tired  übermübet. 

overwhelm  überwältigen. 

owe  öerbanten;  fdjutben. 


P. 

pace  langfam  ge^en. 

pacify  beruhigen. 

page  ^age. 

pain  ©c^merj;  painful  fd^mergltd^. 

paint  malen. 

pant  feueren. 

parish  Ätrd)fpiel. 


Wörterbuch. 


11 


particular  gigentümlic^fett. 

particularly  befonber§. 

partly  teitoeije. 

party  ©efeüfd^aft. 

pass  for  gelten   al§;  pass   off  for 

geltenb  machen   al§;    pass   down 

linuuterge^en. 
passion  3Öt:n;  Seibenfrfioft. 
passively  o^^ne  SSiberftanb. 
patch  ^lec!. 
path  ^fab. 
pause  {nne!§alten. 
peal  läuten, 
perceive  bemerfen. 
perfect  öolüommen. 
persistent  ^artnäcfig. 
pervade  burc^bringen. 
picture  $Stlb. 
picturesque  malerifcf). 
pillow  Äopfüffen. 
pious  fromm, 
pity  50^ttleib. 
placid  fanft;  rul^tg. 
play    second   fiddle    eine    nnterge= 

orbnete  dioUt  f|)telen. 
pleasantly  freunblitf). 
please  gefallen. 
pleased  erfreut, 
pleasure  SSergnügen. 
plenty  of  Dtel. 
plot  SSerfcEjraörung. 
poke  fun  at  fic^  luftig  machen  über. 
politician  ^olitüer. 
politics  ^olitif. 
popularity  SBeltebt^eit. 
possess  befi^en. 
possessions  S3eft|. 
pour  forth  au§ftrömen  loffen. 
power  Wad}t;  Sroft. 
practise  üben, 
prayer  ®ebet. 
preamble  SSorrebe. 
prefer  öoräie^en. 

prejudiced  (to  be)  SSorurteile  ^egen. 
premature  t)or§eitig. 
prepare  öorbereiten. 
presence  ©egentoart. 
present  ©efc^enf. 
prey  SSeute. 
proclaim  üerfünben. 


profess  öorgeben. 

privileged  being-  beborgugteS  SSefen. 

prolonged  auSgebe^nt;  öerlängeit. 

prominent  ^erborragenb. 

promptly  fc^nell;  fogleic^. 

promising  berfpred^enb. 

propound    a   question    eine   forage 

flellen. 
prone  geneigt, 
prop  ftu^en. 
prospect"^  9iu§ftc^t. 
prosperous  angenehm;  gebei^lid^. 
provide  0  erf  or  gen. 
provincial  place  ^robtnjialftabt. 
provisions  Seben§mittel. 
puppy  |)ünbcE)en. 
purity  ^etnl)ett. 
purpose  3^e(f. 
put  a  stop  to  ein  ©nbe  madden. 


quality  (£igenfcf)aft. 
queer  fonberbar;  feltfam. 
question  ^^rage. 


R. 


race  ©ef^tec^t. 

rack  one's  brains  fic^  ben  5lopfäer= 

bre^en. 
radiant  ftra^Ienb. 
raise  ergeben, 
ransack  plünbern. 
rap  flopfen. 
rapidity  (SdineHtgfeit. 
rarely  feiten, 
rave  about  (someone)  bernarrt  fein 

in;  fd)tiiärmen  für. 
reach  erretct)en;  to   reach  home  5U 

§aufe  anfommen. 
readily  beretttoillig. 
readiness  SereittoiKigfeit. 
ready  to  hand  bet  ber  ^anb. 
realise  ftd^  üertüirf Iid)en ;    ftc^  üor-- 

fleHen. 
really  toirHic^. 
reason  ®runb ;  SSernunft ;  to  reason 

with  §ur  SSernunft  bringen. 


12 


Wörterbuch. 


recall  ^urürfrufeu. 

receive  errjaüen. 

reckoning-  9?eii)nung. 

rector^farrer  :3n^abev  etner^frünbe. 

rectory  ^^fan-^au§. 

recognise  erfenixen. 

recognition(ärfennung;5(nerfeunung. 

reflect  nad)ben!en. 

refreshment  @r[rifd)uni]. 

refuse  fid)  tueigern;  abfa]Iagen. 

regret  iüebauern;  bebauern. 

relation  ißertuanbte;  löejietjxmg. 

release  33efreiung. 

relief  (£r(ei(f)teruug. 

reluctance  ^ifötberroillen. 

remark  33emerfung  ;  benter!en. 

remember  fid)  eLinneni. 

remembrance  (Erinnerung. 

remind  erinnern. 

remorse  9kue. 

remove  fDrtfdjaffen. 

repeat  tr)ieberf)oIen;  Ijerfagen. 

reply  eninebern. 

repose  9vu^e. 

reputation  5Ruf. 

require  erforbern;  berlangen. 

resentment   (Smpfinblidifeit;  3Sibev= 

tütUen. 
resident  intV^nljaft. 
resist  fid)  tütberfe|en;  U)iberftel)en. 
resolve  (I-ntfd)Iuß;  eniid)ÜeBen. 
resort  S^erfammlungSort. 
respect    (in    every)    in    jeber   S3e= 

äte^ung. 
respectable  achtbar, 
responsible  üerantiuortlidj. 
rest  9iu^e;  übrige, 
restless  ruf)eIo§. 
restore  luieber^erfteUeu. 
restriction  (£infd)ränfung. 
retort  berb  antiDorten. 
retreat  (to  beat  a)  hm  9iürf,^ug  an= 

treten, 
return  gurüdfe^ren. 
reveal  offenbaren, 
reverse  Gegenteil, 
review  Diesenfion;  93eurteilung. 
ridiculous  läd)erltd). 
ring-  läuten;  ütngeln. 
roar  £ärm;  Srüüen. 


roars    of  laughter  laute^  (V)clild)ter. 
rough  rau^. 

rule  (as  a)  in  ber  S^e^el. 
run  after  (a  person)  fid)  nnt  femanb 
reiben. 


S. 


sad  traurig. 

safe  ftd)er. 

sailor  ^Otatrofe. 

sake,  (for  the  —  of)  mil  —  willen. 

satisfaction  23efriebigung. 

saying  @|}rtd)it)Drt. 

science  2Biffenfd)aft. 

scornful  l)öt)nifd). 

scrap  ©titddjen. 
I  scoundrel  Sd)urfe. 
I  search  nnterfnd)en. 
!  seize    upon    greifen ;     in    53cfd)(ag 

nehmen. 
I  seli-reg-arding  felbft  beobad)tenb. 
1  sense  (Sefü^I ;  senses  ©inne. 

sensible  berniinftig. 

separate  trennen;  einzeln. 

sermon  ^rebigt. 
I  serpent  @d)Iange. 

service  ©otteSbienft. 
'  set  Partie;  Spiel. 

settle  down  fid)  nieberlaffen. 

shade  @d)atten;  @d)attirung. 

shake  hands  with  bie  §anb  fd)rttteln. 

shame  @d)anbe. 
I  share  Xeil ;  5tntei(. 

sheet  of  paper  ^apierbogen. 

sheltered  gefd)ü^t. 

shiver  i^ittern;  fd)anbern. 

shock  @d)(ag. 

shocking  entfei^Iid). 
j  shortcoming's  S^erfäuiuniffc. 

shred  %aitv. 

shrug    one's    shoulders    bie    5(d)fet 
j     ^iiden. 

shuifle  fortiercn. 
I  shudder  fd)aubern. 
j  sift  fieben  ;  auöfDrfd)en. 
I  sigh  ©eufi^er. 
I  significant  bebeutungöboll. 
I  silence  ©title. 


Wörterbuch. 


13 


silky  fetbenartig. 

simile  ®Iei{^nt§. 

similar  ä^nltc^. 

sincere  aufricf)tig. 

skillfully  gej^icÜ. 

slander  SSerleumbung, 

slight  leidet;  gering. 

slow  langjam. 

small  talk  ®e:(3lauber. 

smile  Säd)eln;  lä^eln. 

smoke  9?Qud^;  raupen. 

soh  @cf)Iu(^äen;  jd)Iud)5en. 

sociable  gefeHig. 

sole  einzig. 

solemn  feierlii^. 

solitary  einfom. 

solitude  ©infamlett. 

sorry  betrübt;  I  feel  sorry  c§  t|ut 

mir  leib. 
soul  Seele, 
sound  ^long. 
spasmodic  fram^f^aft. 
special  befonbere. 
spectacles  S3rtIIe. 
speech  9?ebe. 

spend  öerbringen;  ausgeben, 
spinster  alte  Jungfer, 
spirit  ßebi^aftigfeit. 
spite  (in  —  of)  tro^. 
spoil  öerberben. 
spread  berbreiten. 
square  SSierecf. 
stage  (Stabium;  ©tufe. 
stained  glass  farbtge§  ®Ia§. 
stamp  ftempeln. 
startle  erfc^redEen. 
State  3"ftanb;  Staat, 
stay  with  someone   gu  bauernbetn 

5öefucö  bei  jemanb  fein, 
steadily  ftetig. 
steal  into  fid^  etnf^Ieid^en. 
steep  tau(^en. 
Step  Schritt, 
sting  <Büä);  fted^en. 
stir  fid^  rü:§ren. 
stone  Stein, 
stool  Sc^entel. 
stout  ftarf ;  biä. 
Strange  befrembenb. 
strangle  eriuürgen;  erfliden. 


straw  Stro^. 

Stretch  be'^nen;  ftreden. 

strength  ^raft. 

stride  f(^reiten. 

striking  auffallenb. 

string  up  :§ängen;  errängen. 

strong  ftarf. 

stupid  einfach;  etnföltig. 

subject  (Segenftanb;  subject  to  fail 

bem  S^-'i-'tiint  untertDorfen  fein. 
success  (Srfolg. 
succeeding  folgenb. 
sufficient  genügenb. 
suggest  eingeben;  t»orf(^Iagen. 
summon  9^uf;  rufen, 
sunny  fonntg. 
sunshine  Sonnenfd^ein. 
superfluity  Überftu^. 
suppose  öorauSfe^en;  Vermuten, 
surface  Dberfläd)e;  oberfIäd)üd). 
suspect  öerbäc^ttgen. 
suspense  Spannung. 
swivel-chair  ®re^ftu]§I. 


T. 


take  took,  taken  mieten;  nehmen; 
take  for  granted  annehmen;  to 
take  up  a  person  jemanb  gut 
aufnet)men,  freunblid)  em^jfangen; 
take  for  fjalten  für;  to  be  taken 
up  with  erfüllt  fein  bon ;  take  in 
good  part  gut  aufnehmen;  take 
place  ftattfinben ;  take  in  betrügen, 
hintergehen;  take  advantage  of 
ma^rne^men;  take  leave  ftc^  öer= 
abfd)ieben. 

tale  (£r5ät)Iung. 

talk  Unter:^altung ;  reben. 

talkative  rebfelig. 

tap  flo^jfen,  (janft). 

teach,  taught,  taught,  letjren,  unter= 
richten. 

teacher  Se^rer;  üe^rerin. 

tear  X^räne. 

tedious  langioeilig. 

temper  ^äfiäorn;  §eftig!eit. 

to  keep  one's  temper  fid)  be^errfd)en. 

temperament  ®emüt§üerfaffung. 


14 


Wörterbuch. 


tenfold  se^nfocE). 

tent  Belt. 

tentatively  berfurf)§lüetfe. 

terrace  S^eraffe. 

terrestrial  irbifd). 

thought  ©ebante. 

thoughtful  gebanfenöoK. 

thrive  gebei^en. 

throat  "|)al§. 

throw,  threw,  thrown  werfen. 

thump  fd)Iagen. 

thundering  bonnernb. 

tone  down  ^erabftimmen ;  bäm^fen. 

tongue  3wnge. 

topic  ©egenftanb  ber  llnter^Itung. 

torrent  Strom. 

toss  toerfen. 

touch  berühren. 

trance      ©tarrfud^t ;      tobätinlii^er 

(5d)Iaf. 
transgress  übertreten, 
travel  reifen, 
treasonable  öerräterifc^. 
treat  ^eft. 
tremble  gittern, 
trouble  Wllü^t;  «Sorge, 
troubled  beunruhigt, 
truckle-bed  9?oIIbett. 
trust  ^  off  en;  trauen, 
truth  SSa^r^eit. 
try  üerfuc^en. 
trying  angretfenb. 
type-writer  ©d^reibmafi^ine. 


U. 


unconscious  unberou^t. 

under  age  unmiinbig. 

understand,  understood,  understood 

öerfte^en. 
undertone  leife. 
unenterprising    bon    wenig    Unter= 

nepmung§geift. 
unfair  unbiütg;  ungerecht, 
ungrateful  unbantbar. 
unintellectual  nici)t  geiftig ;  ni^t  in= 

telligent. 
universal  allgemein. 
unlucky  unglüdlic^. 


unprincipled  getniffenloS. 
unscrupulous  ungeraiffen'^att. 
unselfishness  ©elbftlofigfeit. 
unsophisticated    rein;     unfc^ulbig; 

unöerfälfc^t. 
until  bi§. 

unthought  of  unöermutet. 
unutterably  unau§fpred)ltd). 
upright  aufrichtig, 
upstairs  oben, 
urgent  bringenb. 
usher  into  einführen, 
utter  au§fprec^en. 


vague  unbeftimmt. 

vain  eitel;  in  v.  öergeben§. 

variety  (a  —  of)  Oerfd)iebene. 

vastly  ungeljeuer. 

vehement  ^efttg. 

vein  3Iber. 

venomous  giftig. 

victim  D|}fer. 

victory  Sieg. 

vie  wetteifern. 

views  §lnftd^ten. 

vigour  Ä'raft. 

violate  übertreten. 

violent  f)eftig. 

voice  ©timme. 

vulnerable  bermunbbar. 


W. 

waft  tragen  (öon  ber  üuft). 
wait  Warten, 
wall  3Kauer;  SSanb. 
want  of  ^Jlangel  an. 
ward  SJiünbel. 
warder  ©c^liefeer. 
waste  oergeuben. 
waste  away  abmagern, 
way  2Beg;  $3eife. 
weak  fd)Wad). 
weakness  ©d)Wäc^e. 
weapon  5Baffe. 
wearisome  ermübenb. 


Wörterbuch. 


15 


weather  SSetter. 

week  SSodie. 

weep  ireinen. 

well-meaning  gut  gewinnt. 

whisper  flüftern. 

white  tüei^. 

wife  x^xau,  (g^efrau. 

win  gewinnen. 

wings  S^^ügel. 

wits,  to  be  at  one's  wit's  end  ftc^ 


tüeber    gu    raten    nod^   gu   Reifen 

ttiffen. 
witness  3ew9«^§  ablegen, 
worn  abgemagert, 
wrong-  Unred)t;  Unrecht  t!^un. 

Y. 

yew-tree  ßbenbaum. 
young  jung. 


Anmerkungen  und  Wörterbuch  zu  Abraham  Lincoln 

Bearbeitet  von  Camilla  Hammond. 


Anmerkungen. 

Chief  Magistrate  Bezeichnung  für  den  Präsidenten  der  Vereinigten 
Staaten.    Der  Präsident  ist  die  höchste  Instanz  in  Gerichtssachen. 

Temperance  Movement  eine  Bewegung,  welche  die  Ahschaffung  des 
Genusses  von  geistigen  Getränken  zum  Ziel  hatte.  Diejenigen 
die  sich  eidlich  verpflichten  sich  aller  solcher  Getränke  zu  ent- 
halten, werden  total  ahstainers  genannt. 

ainH  Zusammenziehung  von  are  not  (nur  der  niederen  Sprache  an- 
gehörig) hier  falsch  gebraucht  für  is  not.  Richtige  Zusammen- 
ziehungen sind  isn't  und  aren't. 

you  was  häufig  vorkommender  Fehler  bei  ungebildeten. 

clearing  a  farm  den  Urwald  ausroden,  die  Wurzeln  ausgraben  und 
das  Land  zum  bebauen  vorbereiten,  eine  überaus  schwierige  und 
anstrengende  Arbeit. 

He  became  in  great  demand  etc.    Er  wurde  häufig  aufgefordert  bei 
diesen  Gelegenheiten  die  Rolle  des  Unparteiischen  zu  übernehmen. 

was  ^'run^^  for  the  legislature  familiärer  Ausdruck  für  eifrigunter- 
stützen :  die  Freunde  Ls.  betrieben  seine  Wahl  auf  das  eifrigste. 

Protective  tariff'  (Schutzvoll)  ein  Zoll  auf  die  Produkte  anderer 
Länder,  um  die  einheimische  Industrie  zu  schützen  und  zu  fördern. 

polled  stammt  von  poll  Kopf;  wird  für  Stimmen  bei  Wahlen  ge- 
braucht,   poll  heisst  auch  der  Wahlort  und  die  Stimmenzahl. 

WJiig  ticket  ticket  Zettel,  Wahlzettel  wird  auch  für  Partei  ge- 
braucht.   L.  gehörte  zur  liberalen  Partei. 

Jury  trial    Verhör   vor  12  Geschworenen. 

National  House  of  Representatives  das  Abgeordnetenhaus.  Congress 
besteht  aus  the  National  House  of  Representatives  und  the  Senate. 


Abraham  Lincoln.  17 

Vice-Presidency  der  Präsident  des  Senats  ist  zu  gleicher  Zeit  Vice- 
President  der  Union. 

Lincoln  'stumpecV  the  State  er  hielt  Eeden  in  den  verschiedenen 
Städten  und  Ortschaften  des  Staats,  'stnmped'  stammt  von  der 
Gewohnheit  der  Volksredner  von  einem  Baumstumpf  oder  irgend 
einer  andern  Erhöhung  herab  zu  sprechen. 

Declaration  of  American  Independence  die  Erklärung  der  Unab- 
hängigkeit Amerikas  von  England,  erklärt  d.  4.  Juli  1776. 

apportionment  of  the  legislative  districts  die  Einteilung  der  Wähler- 
kreise. 

"OW  Abe  must  show  his  hand^''  ein  dem  Kartenspiel  entnommene]- 
Ausdruck,  er  muss  zeigen,  was  für  Karten  er  in  der  Hand  häir 
=  seine  wahre  Absicht  und  Meinung  als  Abgeordneter  erklären. 

The  informal  ballot  die  Vorwahl  um  die  Aussichten  der  Kandidaten 
auf  die  Wahl  festzustellen. 


pure  Adam^s  ale  reines  Wasser,  das  Getränk  der  total  abstainers: 
don't  in  Amerika  vielfach  gebraucht  für  doesn't,  don't  in  der 
dritten  Person  Einzahl  ist  ein  Sprachfehler. 

President  elect  der  schon  gewählte  aber  noch  nicht  feierlich  ein- 
gesetzte Präsident. 

heart  and  hearthstone  hearthstone  Herdstein  vor  dem  Kaminfeuer,  der 
Versammlungsplatz  der  Familie  zum  gemütlichen  Beisammen- 
sein, daher  für  Eamilie  gebraucht. 

laiü  for  conscription  zwangsmässige  Aushebung  von  Truppen. 

colured  people  Neger,  schonender  Ausdruck.  Die  Bezeichnung 
nigger,  oder  negro,  wird  von  den  befreiten  Negern  als  Beleidigung 
aufgenommen. 

Extradition  proceedings  Vertrag  zwischen  der  unabhängigen  Re- 
gierung der  Vereinigten  Staaten  und  dem  England  gehörigen 
Canada  wegen  Auslieferung  der  flüchtigen  Verbrecher,  proceed- 
ings: das  gerichtliche  Verfahren. 

an  a  technicality  wegen  eines  Formfehlers  Irrtum  in  den  technischen 
Ausdrücken  (wahrscheinlich  im  Haftsbefehl). 

Reciprocity  Treaty    Handelsvertrag  zwischen  Canada  und  der  Union. 

Woe  untq_  the  ivorld  etc.  —  Ev.  Matthäi  18  V.  7.  „Wehe  der  Welt 
der  Ärgernis  halben!  Es  muss  ja.  Ärgernis  kommen;  doch 
wehe  dem  Menschen,  durch  welchen  Ärgernis  kommt." 

The  judgments   of  the  Lord  etc.     Psalm  19.   V.    10.     „Die  Rechte 
des  Herrn  sind  wahrhaftig,  allesamt  gerecht." 
II  8 


lg  Abraliam  Lincoln. 

This  is  the  Lord^s  doing  etc.  Psalm  118.  V.  23.  „Das  ist  vom  Herrn 
geschehen,  und  ist  ein  Wunder  vor  unsern  Augen." 

"life  preserver''''  Bezeichnung  einer  Patentmedizin ,  und  auch  eines 
kleinen  Stocks  mit  einem  mit  Blei  gefüllten  Kopf,  der  in  un- 
ruhigen Zeiten  von  vielen  Männern  als  Waffe  in  der  Tasche  ge- 
tragen wurde. 

"brealcers  ahead"   Brandung  voraus :  =  es  steht  grosse  Gefahr  bevor. 

feller      ungebildete  Aussprache  für  fellows  Kerle. 

Froclamation  of  Emancipation  die  öffentliche  Verkündigung  der 
Abschaffung  der  Sklaverei. 


Wörterbuch. 


abhorrence  Slbfc^eu. 

ability  ^ä^tg!eit. 

abolition  Slbfc^affung ;  5litf§e6ung. 

abolish  abjc^ajfen. 

abortive  tnt|lungen. 

abstainer  ©trter,  ber  feine  getftigen 

®eträn!e  trinft. 
abstain  fid^  enf^alten. 
accomplish  üollbringen. 
accomplished  gebilbet. 
accommodate  enthalten, 
achieve  erretd)en. 
acquit  fretfprec^en. 
actuate  antreiben. 
in  addition  to  baju  fornmt. 
add  :^injiifügen. 
adhere  feft^alten. 
admission  ßulaffung ;  ©inttitt ;  @in= 

laffung. 
advocate  Slbbofat. 
advocacy  f^ürf^raifie. 
affecting  rül^renb. 
affection  Sln^ängücftfeit. 
afford  bie  3lu§gabe  machen, 
agitated   (to  be)  aufgeregt  fein;  be= 

megt  fein;  erregt  fein, 
agitation  SCufregung;  Söetoegung. 
aggresser  Singreifer, 
allegiance  Sirene  (jum  SSaterlanb). 
alive  (to  be)  am  öeben  fein, 
alternate  abtüecfifeinb. 
ambition  ©^rgeig. 


anguish  ©^mer^;  £luoI. 
animated  by  (to  be)  angefeuert  fein 

burc^;  befeelt  bon. 
appeal  5lnrufung;  Sl^pellatton. 
applicant  Setoerber;  Sittfteffer. 
appoint  aufteilen, 
apportionment  (Einteilung, 
appreciable  nterflic^. 
appreciate  aner!ennen. 
apprise  benoc^ric^tigen. 
approbation  Sitligung. 
arbitrary  lüiHfürli^. 
ardour  SBärme;  ©tfer. 
arduous  fd)tt)ierig. 
art  of  penmanship  @d^retb!unft. 
arithmetic  Sfed^nen. 
ascribe  to  gufd^reiben. 
aspect  5tnblicf;  5lu§fe§en. 
aspirations  Streben, 
assail  angreifen, 
assuage  linbern. 
assume  annel^men;  übernehmen, 
astonishing  erftaunlid^. 
attitude  Stellung. 
attributes  ©igenfi^aften. 
auspices  (ScE)u|;  Seitung. 
autumn  ^erbft. 
authorize  beauftragen, 
axe  5(jt. 

B. 

ballot  SBa^Hugel;  burc^  SSa^fuget 

ftimmen. 
banish  berbannen. 

8* 


20 


"Vs  örterhucli. 


banner  'iyaijm. 

barefooted  barfiiB- 

bark  9imbe  (be§  Saume«);  bellen. 

basis  ©runblac^e. 

battle  ecfila^t. 

begnile  abjie^en ;  ,^erftreuen. 

belie  Siige  fttnfen. 

belong  gehören. 

beneficent  inofilt^ättg. 

benefactress  SSolltbtlterin. 

besiege  belagern. 

beverage  ©eträn!. 

bill  ©e^'efeentrourf. 

birthplace  rskburt§ort. 

boast  fid]  rufjinen. 

bob-tailed  fur§:  flu^fdimänäig. 

boisterous  färmenb. 

bond    Sanb;    bondage     Süaterei; 

^n  edit  jd]  aft. 
border  ©rcn^e. 
born  geboren, 
borrow  borgen, 
box  Soge. 

brandish  fd)n)ingen. 
breakers  55ranbimg. 
bribe  Sefted)ung;  beflecken, 
brighten  erfreuen;  aufheitern, 
broils  Streit;  3^1^^- 
brush   (to  have   a  —  with)  'Bä)ax- 

mü^el;  ^ampl 
burden  33iirbe;  Saft. 


cabinet    9iat§öerfainmlung ;    ?(}itni= 

ftertum. 
calm   ru^ig. 
candidate  Seroerber. 
candour  Cffen^eit. 
care  (gorge. 

cart  barren;  gii^^iuer!. 
cast  (a  vote)  flimmen. 
cease  aufboren, 
cent  '/loo  Dollar, 
century  ^fi^i'^unbert. 
cemetery  g-rtebbof. 
certain  geiDt^ ;  fic^er. 
cessation  '^Xufbbren. 
challenge      öeraueforberung ;     pr 

JRec^enfdjaft  sieben. 


charity  Siebe. 

charred  oerfof^lt. 

cheers  g-reubenfd)rei ;  S3it)at§. 

cherish  l^flegen. 
j  chief,  chieftain  öäu|3tltng. 
I  choice  ^Sa^L 
!  copy  (Srem^Iar;  ?tbbilb. 

chol'd  ^Cfforb;  eotte. 

choose,  chose,  chosen  rjäglen. 

citizen  53ürger. 

civil  affairs  (Xiöüangelegenbeiten. 

civilised  cioififiert. 

civil  war  Siirgerfrteg. 
i  client  dlient;  'Scbü^iuig. 
I  coerce  ?,iiiingcn;  etnfd)ränfen. 
j  coffin  ©arg. 
i  combine  Derbinbeu. 

comical  fomifd). 

commend  one's  self  fid)  empfehlen. 

commit  begeben. 

company  ®efeüfd)aft. 

compare  üevg(eid]en. 

comparative  üerbältniSmä^tg. 

complain  fidi  beflageu. 

complexion  G)eftd)t§farbe. 

complication  ^^«enntdelung. 

compose    §uf ammonfe^en :    compose 
the  quarrel   ben  Streit  fd)(iditen. 

composition  3iifammenfteüung. 

conceive  benfen. 

concession  3wgeftänbni§. 

concise  fur  a;  bünbig. 

concourse  9Jienge. 

condolence  JÖeileib. 

conduct  rubren. 

confer  with  ftdi  beraten. 

confidence  3"ti-"aiieii  ^  35ertrauen. 

conflict  ^ampf:  (gtreit. 

conqueror  Sieger. 

conscientious  gewiffen^aft. 

consecrate  einmeiben. 

consequently  folglid). 

consistency  Sonfequenj ;  t^olgeric^tigs 
feit. 

console  tr often. 

conspicuous  ftd)tbar;  beutlid). 

constitute  au§ma(^en. 

construct  aufrid)ten;  bauen. 

consuming  öer^^e'^renb. 

contemporary  3eit9eno^. 


Wörterbuch. 


21 


contest  Streit. 
convene  äufommenrufen. 
convention  SSerfammlung. 
conviction      Überführung ;       Uber= 

jeugung. 
cost  f often;  costly  toftbar. 
counsel  ^Iböofot. 
course  of  proceedings  SSerfal§rung§= 

ort;  SJiaferegeln. 
courtesy  |)öfU(i)feit. 
cradle  SBiege. 
credit  to  (£^re  maiden, 
creditable  anftönbig ;  aner!ennung§= 

trert. 
crumb  ^rume. 
crushing-  äermalmenb. 


». 


dag'g-er  S)dI(^. 

dealings  with  Umgang ;  ^anbeln  mit. 

debate  Debatte;  beratfdilagen. 

decline  abfdilagen;  abnehmen. 

deed  Xf)at. 

dedicated  to  gemibmet. 

defend  berteibigen. 

deliberate  überlegen. 

deliver  überliefern;  befreien. 

demonstrate  barlegen. 

denounce  anflogen;  ongeigen. 

designated  genannt. 

despatches  ^rieffcEiaften. 

destined  beftimmt. 

detachment  2)eta(^ement;  5lbteilung; 
Kompagnie. 

determination®  ntfcfilu^ ;  @ntfd)Ioff  en= 
^eit. 

detract  from  abjie^ien. 

devolve  upon  anheimfallen ;  it  de- 
volves upon  you  e§  ift  an  S^nen 

3«  — 
devour  berfd^Iingen. 
digest  »erbauen. 

dint  (by  —  of)  bermittelfl;  burrfi. 
discomposed    au^er    f^affung;   ber= 

mirrt. 
discussion  (grörterung. 
dishonourable  unehrenhaft, 
dismiss  eutlaffen. 


display  entfalten;  barlegcn. 
dissatisfied  unjufrieben. 
dissolve  auflöfen. 
distance  Entfernung, 
distinguished  au§geäet(^net. 
j  distracted  jerftreut ;  au|er  fid^. 
divide  teilen, 
doom  tjerurteilen. 
drill  eferjieren. 
drop  faüen;  fallen  laffen. 
dubious  smeifel^aft. 


E. 


early  frü^. 

editor  9tebafteur. 

education  Silbung;  (Sr§ie!§ung. 

effective  mtrffam. 

emancipation  ^Befreiung. 

emblem  ©innbilb. 

embrace  umarmen. 

emerge  :^erau§treten. 

empty  leeren;  leer. 

elector   SSafiler  ;    Stimmberechtigte ; 

elect  raä^Ien. 
eloquent  berebt. 
enclosure    ©in^egung ;     einge!§egte§ 

©runbftücf. 
endearing  liebfofenb;  gärtlid^. 
endorse  überf cf)reiben ;  inboffteren. 
endure  au§:^alten. 
endwise  ba§  (£nbe  §uerft. 
engagement    ®efect)t;    engaged    in 

befd)äftigt  mit. 
enlighten  erleuchten, 
enlist  fic^  al§  ©olbat  antr erben  laffen. 
enslaved  unterjocht, 
ensue  folgen, 
enthusiastic  begeiftert. 
epithet  S3einam'e. 
erase  au§rabieren;  bertilgen. 
erect  aufrecht;  bauen;  errid^ten. 
essential  toefentlid^. 
esteem  §o^ac^tung. 
estimable  fd}ä^en§tüert. 
event  @reigni§. 
example  SSeifpiel. 
excel  übertreffen. 
exemplify  burc^  S3eif:piele  erläutern. 


22 


Wörterbuch. 


exertion  9Inftrengung. 
excess  Übermaß, 
excessively  übermäßig, 
express  train  @(^nell§ug. 
expire  fterben ;  eiiofi^en. 
extant  öor^anben. 

extradition  ^lu§Itefentng  bon  $8er= 
brediern. 


fabrication  ©r^eugung. 
facile  Ietd)t;  lenffam. 
fairmindedness  aie^tf^affen^ett ;  to 

fall  in  (with)  J)tnetn  geraten ;  an= 

treffen;  zusammentreffen. 
familiar  betannt. 

far  meit;  far  away  look  abntefenb. 
farmer  ^äc^ter;  ®ut§beft^er. 
favour  (to  be  in)  bei  (gtnem  in  ©unft 

fielen;   to  be  ont   of   favour   in 

IXngnabe  gef offen  fein, 
feat  X^at. 

fees  So'^n;  ^onorar. 
felicity  ©lücffeltgfeit. 
fence  ^aun. 
fertile  frud)tbar. 
fervent  lüarm. 
figures  3G^ieiir  ©eftalten. 
files  Elften. 

fit  of  humour  luftige  Stimmung. 
fit  out  au^ftatteu. 
fix  feftfe^en;  befeftigen. 
flatter  f^meii^eln. 
fiee,  fled,  fled  entfliegen, 
foe  getnb. 
forensic  gerichtlich, 
foreshadow  üor^erbebeuten. 
forfeit  üerluftig  tüerben. 
formidable  furd)tbar. 
framework  ©infaffung. 
frankly  offen. 
fundamental  ®runb. 
furnish  barbieten. 


i^ 


gallant  ^ofltd);  galant, 
gallows  6)algeu. 


gap  (5|)alt;  muft, 

gateway  Si^oriüeg. 

gigantic  riefen^aft. 

gleaming  glangenb. 

glory  ^errlidjteit 

gradual  attmäl^Iid). 

grant  getuö^ren. 

gratitude  ®an!barfeit. 

grog-shop  83ranntiüeinlaben ;  fleine^ 

«föirtÄ^auS. 
ground  ©runb;  (Srbe;  S3oben. 
guarantee  üerbürgen. 
guilty  fd)utbig. 
gun  ®euie{)r. 


H. 

hail  begvüBen;  anrufen, 
hallow  weitien. 
hat  §nt. 
hawk  4'»ibid)t. 
hearthstone  ^^erbftein. 
hew,  hewn  I)auen. 
history  SBettgefd)id)te. 
homely  einfad). 
honesty  (£-()vüd)teit. 
horseback  (on)  gu  ^^ferb. 
hostilities  g-einbfeltgfeiten. 
household  goods  .^auSrat. 
huge  ungeheuer, 
humanity  ^:)}tenfd)Iid)!eit. 
humble  niebrig. 


identify  tbentiftgieren. 

illustration  ^f^uftration ;    S3erül)mt= 

mad)ung. 
inauguration  ©infe^uug ;  ^iufii^rung 

in  ein  5tmt. 
incense  SBet^raudi;  entriiften. 
incident  SSorfaff. 
incipient  begiunenb. 
incite  antreiben, 
incorporate  einverleiben, 
incredible  unglaublid]. 
indifference  ®leid)gültig!eii. 
indite  Derflagen. 
indivisible  unteilbar. 


Wörterbuch 


indulge  in  ftc^  ergeben, 
inexpressible  unauSf^rec^ßc^. 
inquire  fragen, 
inscription  ^nft^rift. 
insight  @tnfirf)t. 
installation  ©infe^ung. 
instance  Seif^iet. 
instruct  unterrichten, 
insurrection  Slufftanb. 
integrity  9te(^tfd)affent)eit. 
intemperance  Unmäfetgteit. 
internal  innere;  inlänbtfc^. 
intervening  ba§n)tfd)en!omntenb. 
interview  Unter  rebung. 
intuitive  anjdiauUd).  ' 
invariable  unüeränberlirf). 
invention  ©rfinbung. 
irreparable  untüiberruflirf). 
irritation  ©rbttterung;  gntrüftung. 
issue  ?Iu§gang. 


Journal  ßettfdjrift. 
joy  ^-reube. 
judge  Ü^tc^ter. 
judgment  Urteil. 

juncture  S^erbtnbung ;  5ßeretnigung§= 
puntt. 


key  Xonart 

keynote  6d)Iüffel  (in  ber  9Jiuftf). 
kindred  ^ertuanbtfdjaft. 
knoll  §ügel. 

L. 

lament  befingen. 

lauk  jd)Iid)t. 

largemindedness  i^^oc^^erjigfeit. 

lash  ^eitfc^e,  9?ntl)e. 

last  bauern. 

law-court  ®eri(^t§^of. 

lawyer  ^urift. 

leader  f^ü^rer;  Setter. 

legal  gefe^mä^ig. 


legislature     gefe^gebenber    ^ör|?ev; 

O^egierung. 
lengthy  lang  toä^renb. 
liberty  5ret|ett. 
limit  ©renge;  ^äpcanU. 
line  ©renjltnie. 
linked  öerbunben;  öerfettet. 
linsey-wolsey  l^albtooIIeneS  S^n^- 
liquor  ftarte§  ©etränt. 
live  leben;  tuo^nen. 
loath  öembjc^euen. 
locality  Örtltd)feit. 
located  Sage  ^aben. 
log  cabin  ^torf^an§. 
loggerheads  (to    set  at)   Unfriebeu 

ftiften  5tt)i[c^en. 
logical  logtfd^. 
lot  So§. 
low-crowned  mit  niebrigem  Soben. 

M. 

magistrate  9)togiftrat§|3erfon. 

magnanimity  ©ro^mnt. 

maintain  erhalten;  Derfei^ten. 

majority  SSlttji^aijL 

Maker  @c£)i3pfer. 

malice  ^og^eit- 

manifestly  offenbar. 

manoeuvre  ^Bewegung;  5Serfaf)ren. 

marauding  pliinbernb. 

mark   (to   make   one's)    (Srfolg    er= 

ringen, 
marking  begeic^nenb. 
marvellous  lüunberbar. 
measles  9J?afern. 
measure  Wa'Q;  5?Za^regeI. 
memorable  ben!lDÜrbtg. 
mighty  mad)tig. 
mingle  mifi^en. 
minister  ®eiftlid)er;  'O^Kntftei-. 
missive  ©enbfc^reiben ;  Srief. 
momentous  Und) tig. 
moon  SlJlonb. 

moulder  away  jerftnuben. 
mourn  trauern, 
move  überfiebetn;  um§ie^en. 
muffler  ntoIleneS  |)al§tud). 
murder  SDJorb. 
mutual  gegenfeittg. 


24 


Wörterbuch. 


narrate  ergällen. 

nasal  feature  9?Qfe. 

native  (Sinfleborne;  einl^eimi|d}. 

necessity  ^otiuenbigteit. 

neg-ociations  Unterl)anblungen. 

negro  SfJeger. 

noble  ebel. 

nobly  in  ebler  2Seife. 

nomination  Ernennung. 

notably  merfiDUrbigertDeije. 


0. 


oath  (Jib. 

obligation  $8erpflirf)tung. 
obscure  öerbunfeln. 
obscurity  SSerborgen'^eit. 
observance  ©ebraucf);  ©itte. 
official  amtlic^;  office  Slmt. 
onerous  befd)tx)erUd). 
opening-  SSafons;  Einfang, 
original  itrfprünglirf). 
outline  llmri|. 
ovation  Dbatton;  |)iilbigung. 
over-coat  llberrorf. 
override    gu     9Jic^te    madien: 
®d)anbe  machen. 


pale  bias. 

paltry  erbärmltrf) ;  j(^Ied^t. 
party  gartet;  ^erfou. 
passage  ®ang;  3^at)X"t. 
patent  patent;  offenbar, 
patience  ®ebulb. 
pay  Sega|^Iung. 
peace  grieben 
peacemaker  griebenftifter. 
peculiar  fonberbar;  befonbere. 
pencil  33Ieiftift. 
perform  öerridjten. 
performance  Sluffit^rung. 
permanent  bauernb ;  beftönbig. 
perpetrate  begef)en;  öerüben. 
perpetual  unauf^örlirf). 


I  perpetuity  immeriüä'^renbe  2)auer. 

picturesque  malerifd^. 
I  pile  'Raufen ;  oufl^äufen. 

pilot  lootfen. 

pioneer  $iDnier    SSorläufer ;   Siner, 

ber  ben  2Beg  frei  mac^t. 
I  pitcher  ^rug. 

\  pleading-  SSerteibigung  Dor  ®erid)t. 
i  pleasantry  «Si^erg. 
I  pledge  ^fanb;  ftc!^  tjerbiirgen  für. 
;  poet  ®irf)ter. 

point  of  view  ©tanbjjunft. 
I  poll  SSo^^lort ;  ©timmenga^I. 
j  policy  ^olttit. 

I  portend  borbebeuten ;  oerfünben. 
I  position  ©tettung ;  Sage. 
■  positively  beftimmt. 

posterity  9'Jarf)!ommenfd)aft. 

precise  genau. 

precipitate  befcEjIeunigen. 

precocious  altflug. 

pre-eminent  ^eröorragenb. 

preserve  beinatiren. 

pressure  ®rucf. 

presume  öorau§fe^en ;  luagen. 

previous  oor'^ergefenb. 

pride  ©tolj. 

principal  f)au)Dtfä(^ti(^. 
äu   principle  ®runbfa|. 

privilege  SSorred^t. 

probity  9?ebli(i)fett. 

proclamation  SSerfünbigung. 

profane  frebelnb;  freöel^aft. 

profound  tief. 

prognostication  SSor^erfagung. 

progress  gortfc^ritte. 

projected  beabftc^tigt. 

prolong  berlangern. 

prophecy  ^rol^T^eäet^ung. 

proportion    $ßer^ältnt§;    Otegel    de 
Sri. 

propose  üorfdjlagen. 

proposition  $8orfd)Iag. 

proprietor  Seft|er. 

prosecution  of  the   war   bie  S-ort= 
fefeung  be§  ^rtege§. 

protect  fdiilt^en. 

protective  fd)üfeenb. 

publish  beroftentlidien. 

pupil  (5d)üler;  gögting. 


Wörterbuch. 


25 


quick  jcfineCt. 
quiet  ruf)ig. 
quite  gaiij. 


B. 


raid  9iaubäug. 

rail  duer^olg. 

rank  9tang. 

ratify  6e[tätigen. 

reasonably  üernünftigerweife, 

rebuke  einen  58enüei§  geben ;  tabeln. 

recent  unlängft;  eben  erft  gefdje^en. 

reciprocity  ©egenfettigtett. 

recite  ^erfagen;  Dortragen. 

record  ®e|ii)t(^te. 

recreation  ©rbolung. 

reduce  üerminbern;  einnehmen. 

refer  [lä)  begießen. 

refusal  SSeigernng. 

refrain  from  ftd)  "ent^atten. 

register  S5er^eid)ni§. 

reiterate  lüieber^olen. 

reliance  SSertrauen. 

reluctant  mtberftrebenb. 

rely  on  ftc^  Derlaffen  ouf. 

remonstrate   Sßorftellungen    machen. 

renew  erneuern. 

representative  ©tellöertreter. 

resident  tnobnfiaft;  ^BeiDobner. 

respected  geadUet. 

respite  begnabigen. 

resolution  (gntfrf)Iufe;  Üiejolution. 

resort  to  feine  ^^^f^wc^t  nebmen  ^u. 

restitution     g^^^'ücfgabe ;    ^teberer= 

ftattung. 
restoration  3Sieber^er[te](Iung. 
retaliation  SBieberDergeltung. 
retirement  ^urücfge^ogen^eit. 
retribution  S?ergeltung. 
revel  in  ftrf)  freuen  an. 
revere  öerebren. 
rererence  (£^rfurd)t. 
review  |)eerfd)au;  unterfu^en. 
revoke  luiberrufen. 
revolt  ©mbörung. 
revulsion  %b^itt)m;  Umfc^Iag. 
ride  reiten. 


rig-hteous  geredet, 
riot  5Iufrubr. 
robbery  dtauh. 
rock  f^relfen. 
rude  rau^;  unpflic^. 
rug-g-ed  ran. 
ruler  ^errjc^er. 
rupture  örucb- 

S. 

sacred  ^etlig. 

save  retten. 

saviour  Otetter;  (Sriöfer. 

scale    (on    a   grand)    nac^    großem 

scarce  feiten. 

scatter  jerftreuen. 

scheme  ^^lan. 

Scriptures  beiltge  @(^rift. 

score  giüanjig  ©tücf. 

scourge  ©et^el. 

seal  ©iegel;  öerfiegetn. 

Secretary  of  War  SlriegSmintfter. 

secure  fiebern. 

seizure  S3eft^no^me. 

sensitive  embftnbung§fä^ig. 

sentiments  ©efii^Ie. 

series  3?ei^e. 

settle  feftftelTen. 

shadow  @d)atten. 

shanty  |)ütte. 

shape  ®efta(t. 

shine,  shone,  shone  fc^einen;  glänäen. 

shirt  §emb. 

shoot,  shot,  shot  erf^ie^en. 

shout  fdjreten;  rufen. 

shrink,  shrank,  shrunk  from  3urücE= 
beben  öor. 

simplicity  (gtnfac^bett. 

singularly  eigen;  fonberbarerweife. 

slab  |)oIä:pIatte ;  ©teinblatte. 

slain  (to  slay,  slew)  erfd)Iagen. 

slave  ©flaoe. 

sleeping-car  ©c^Iafmaggon. 

slender  f(^Ianf. 

snatch  greifen;  fortreiten. 
j  snow  (Schnee. 
I  solicit  anfudien ;  bitten. 
I  solemnity  g^eierlic^tett. 


26 


Wörterbuch. 


speedily  fcfjuell. 

spelling-book  f^ibel. 

split  fpalten. 

spot  ©telle. 

start  fair  in  gleidier  SSeife  anfangen. 

starting-  erfcf)rec!enb. 

state  auSfagen;  «Staat. 

statement  ?(n«fage. 

statesman  Staatsmann. 

step  (5rf)ritt;  ©tufe. 

stigmatise  branbmarfen. 

stock  SSorrat. 

store  Saben_;  SSorrat. 

strain  t)oä)  fpannen. 

strive,  strove,  striven  ftreben. 

stump  of  a  tree  S3anm[tnmpf. 

subscribe  Beitragen. 

subsequent  folgenb. 

subside  nad)Iaffen;  abnehmen. 

suggest  eingeben ;  in  ben  ©inn  geben. 

suicidal  felb[tt)ernic^tenb. 

superintend   bie  Dberaufftc^t  ^^aben. 

support  unterftü^en;  galten. 

supreme  l)'öii}\t. 

surrender  fid)  ergeben;  Übergabe. 

surroundings  Umgebung. 

surveyor  g-elbmeffer. 

sustain  au§:§alten;  ftüfeen. 

swarthy  bunfel. 

sword  ©(^ttjert. 

swore  (swear,  — ,  SAVorn)  fd^Juören. 


tariff  gofltarif. 

technically  ted^nifcE). 

temperance  SDiä^igteit;  @nt^altfam= 

feit, 
tempest  Sturm, 
tenaciously  be^arrlid). 
tender  anbieten, 
tenderness  3ärtücf)feit. 
tending  to  baju  geeignet;  baju  bei= 

tragenb. 
termination  ©nbe. 
terms  of  service  ®ien[tbebingungen ; 

—  of  peace  g-riebengbebingungen. 
territory  ©ebiet;  Sanbftrid). 
terseness  ^iirge. 
test  prüfen. 


testify  bezeugen. 

testimony  3eit^ni§. 

thoroughly  gritnblidj. 

threat   S)ro^ung;  threaten   broken. 

ticket  gSa^Iäettel ;  ^artei. 

tight  place  (to  be  in  a)  in  ber  klemme 

fein, 
tireless  uncrmüblicb. 
toastauf  iemanbe§  ©efunb^eit  trinfen. 
total  Xotalfumme;  gänäÜd^. 
touching  riil^renb;  ergreifenb. 
trade  |)anbel;  ®ett)erbe. 
transfer   Übertragung;    übertragen, 
treacherous  treulos, 
tremulous  gitternb. 
trial  Sßerl^ör;  Prüfung. 
tribune  3^ebnerbül)ne. 
tribute  2;ribut;  5lbgabe. 
truthful  it)a:^rf)eit§Iiebenb. 
tumbler  SSafferglaS. 

U. 

ultimately  fd)IieBIic^- 
umpire  Un|3arteifd)e. 
unanimous  einftimmig. 
uncontrolable    uubef)errfc^bar ;    un= 

wiberfte^Iic^. 
uncouth  ungefd)Iad)t. 
ungainly  linfifd). 

uninspired  nid)t  üon  (S)ott  begeiftevt. 
union  SSereinigung. 
unknown  unbefannt. 
unrequited  unbelo^nt. 
unswerving    nnberaeglid) ;    nie    ab= 

meic^enb. 
uprightness  5lufrid)tigfett. 
urge  in  ginen  bringen, 
usual  gelübl^nlid). 
utilise  nufebar   madien;    anlrenben. 


value  2Bert. 

vindicate   red)tf ertigen ;    üerteibigen. 

vindictiveness  9{ad)fud^t. 

virtue  S'ugenb. 

virtually  eigentlich. 

visitation  |)eimfud}ung. 

vividly  lebhaft. 


"Wörterbuch. 


27 


volley  <SaIt»e;  Sabung;  StuSbrui^. 

volunteer  ^yreiwillige. 

vote  ftimmen;  3gat)Iftimme  abgeben. 

W. 

waiter  ©erüierbrett. 

warrant    SSer^aft§befer)I ;  S5oIImad)t. 

Avave  fd}Jüen!en. 

well-to-do  it)of)lt)abenb. 

whites  bie  SSei^en. 

widely  juett. 

widow  SBitlüe. 

wield  Ijanbtjaben;  fdiwingen. 

Wilds  2gilbni§. 


wire  S)ra^t. 

wiry  (arm)  bürr;  nertoig. 
woe  Seö;  Setben. 
worth  5ßert;  loert. 
Avorthy  tüürbig. 
wreak  augüben. 
wrestle  ringen. 


youth  güngUng;  S«9enb. 
yoke  (of  oxen)  ®ej|)ann. 


Z. 


zeal  (gifer. 


Lippert  &  Co.  (G.  Pätz'sche  Buchdr.),  Naumbixrg  a/S.. 


Ein  Werk,  das  in  die  Hände  jedes  deutschen 
Mädchens,  ja  in  jedes  Haus  kommen  sollte,  ist 

Das  Margareteilbuch. 

Eine    Erzählung    aus   Lothringen 

von 

Th.  von  Saldern. 

15.  u.  16.  Aufl.    Gebd.  Mk.  5,—    mit  Goldschn.  Mk.  6,  - , 
Pracht- Ausgabe^  mit  12  Illustrationen  Mk.  10, — . 

„Diesem  allseitig*  bekannten  von  Jahr  zu  Jahr  in  seinem  Absatz 
steig-enden  Buche  empfehlende  Worte  zu  widmen,  ist  nicht  nötig-, 
ist  dasselbe  doch  ein  Lieblingsbuch  der  Mädchen  geworden,  das  auch 
die  älteren  Familieng-lieder  mit  Vergnügen  und  Interesse  lesen 
werden." 

The  Margaret-Book. 

A    Legend    of    Lorraine 

by 

Th.  von  Saldern. 

Translated  from  the  German  for  young  readers. 

Eleg.  geb.  mit  Goldschnitt  Mk.  6.—. 

Dass  das  Margaretenbuch  ins  Englische  übertragen  worden  ist, 
darf  als  eine  Anerkennung-  angesehen  werden,  wie  sie  wenig  deutschen 
Büchern  auf  dem  Gebiete  der  Jugendlitteratur  zuteil  geworden  ist, 
da  die  englische  Litteratur  so  reich  an  guten  Werken  ist. 


Die  Bücher  können  durch  alle  Bachhandlungen 
bezogen  werden. 


Wolfenhüttel.  JuHuS  Zwisslßr. 


^of,     TT  cc:l)li 


Im  Verlage  von  Julius  Zwissler  in  Wolfenbüttel 
ist  ferner  erschienen  und  wird  zu  Schulprämien 
und  für  die  Schulbibliotheken  empfohlen: 

Emanuel  Geibels 

Leben,  Werke  und  Bedeutung 

für  das  deutsche  Volk 

von 

Lie.  Dr.  Carl  Leimbach. 

Zweite  sehr  vermehrte  und  neubearbeitete  Auflage 

von 

Max  Trippenbach. 

==  Mit  8  Bildern.  z=i= 


In  Leinwand  gebunden  Mk.  6.  ■  . 

„Seit  Schiller  ist  wohl  keiner  unter  den  nenern  Dichtern  so  tief 
ins  Lehen  des  deutschen  Volkes  gedrungen,  als  Geihel,  dem  nicht 
allein  um  seiner  herrlichen,  das  Gemütsleben  in  seiner  ganzen  Lmig- 
keit  erfassenden  Gedichte,  sondern  auch  um  seines  durrlmus  reinen, 
wahrhaft  grossen  Charakters  willen  allgemeine  Verehrung  und  Liebe 
gezollt  wird.  Von  den  zahlreichen  Verehrern  des  Dichters  Avird  es 
daher  dankbar  begrüsst  werden,  dass  ihnen  im  vorliegenden  Werke 
ein  vollständiges  Lebensbild  ihres  Lieblings  gegeben  wird.  Schildert 
der  erste  Teü  des  Dichters  Leben  (seine  Jugend-  und  Lehrjahre, 
seine  Wander-,  Meister-  und  ßuhejahre),  so  beschäftigt  sich  der 
zweite  ausschliesslich  mit  seinen  W^erken  (seinen  lyrischen,  vermischten 
und  dramatischen  Dichtungen)  und  der  Bedeutung,  die  sie  für's 
deutsche  Volk  erlangt  haben,  um  endlich  noch  im  Anhange  Beiträge 
zur  Geibel  -  Literatur  zu  sammeln.  Bildnisse  des  Dichters  aus  den 
verschiedenen  Altersstufen  illustriren  die  Lebensgeschichte.  Das 
Buch  wird  dazu  beitragen,  die  nationale  Bedeutung  des  Dichters 
ins  rechte  Licht  zu  rücken  und  zu  seinen  alten  Freunden  neue  er- 
werben zu  helfen.  Im  Kreise  der  d  e  u  t  s  c  h  e  n  F  a  m  i  1  i  e  und  Schule 
sucht  das  Buch  vorzugsweise  seine  Leser,  und  hier  wird  es  zweifellos 
erfolgreich  dazu  beitragen,  Geibels  natioualpädagogische  Be- 
deutung darzulegen  und  die  Verehrer  seiner  Werke  zu  vermehren. 
Das  Werk  sei  deshalb  herzlich  empfohlen." 

Zu  beliehen  durcJff,  alle  Buchhandlungen, 
Wolfenbüttel.  Julius  Zwissler. 

Lippert  &  C".  (G.  Pätz'sche  B'  chdr.),   Naumburg  a/S.