An Inland Voyage...............................................................................................................................................1

To equip so small a book with a preface is, I am half afraid, to sin against proportion. But a preface is more

than an author can resist, for it is the reward of his labours. When the foundation stone is laid, the architect

appears with his plans, and struts for an hour before the public eye. So with the writer in his preface: he may

have never a word to say, but he must show himself for a moment in the portico, hat in hand, and with an

It is best, in such circumstances, to represent a delicate shade of manner between humility and superiority: as

if the book had been written by some one else, and you had merely run over it and inserted what was good.

But for my part I have not yet learned the trick to that perfection; I am not yet able to dissemble the warmth

of my sentiments towards a reader; and if I meet him on the threshold, it is to invite him in with country

To say truth, I had no sooner finished reading this little book in proof, than I was seized upon by a distressing

apprehension. It occurred to me that I might not only be the first to read these pages, but the last as well; that

I might have pioneered this very smiling tract of country all in vain, and find not a soul to follow in my steps.

The more I thought, the more I disliked the notion; until the distaste grew into a sort of panic terror, and I

What am I to say for my book? Caleb and Joshua brought back from Palestine a formidable bunch of grapes;

alas! my book produces naught so nourishing; and for the matter of that, we live in an age when people prefer

I wonder, would a negative be found enticing? for, from the negative point of view, I flatter myself this

volume has a certain stamp. Although it runs to considerably upwards of two hundred pages, it contains not a

single reference to the imbecility of God's universe, nor so much as a single hint that I could have made a

better one myself. I really do not know where my head can have been. I seem to have forgotten all that

makes it glorious to be man. 'Tis an omission that renders the book philosophically unimportant; but I am in

To the friend who accompanied me I owe many thanks already, indeed I wish I owed him nothing else; but at

this moment I feel towards him an almost exaggerated tenderness. He, at least, will become my reader: if it

WE made a great stir in Antwerp Docks. A stevedore and a lot of dock porters took up the two canoes, and

ran with them for the slip. A crowd of children followed cheering. The CIGARETTE went off in a splash and

a bubble of small breaking water. Next moment the ARETHUSA was after her. A steamer was coming down,

men on the paddlebox shouted hoarse warnings, the stevedore and his porters were bawling from the quay.

But in a stroke or two the canoes were away out in the middle of the Scheldt, and all steamers, and

The sun shone brightly; the tide was making four jolly miles an hour; the wind blew steadily, with

occasional squalls. For my part, I had never been in a canoe under sail in my life; and my first experiment out

in the middle of this big river was not made without some trepidation. What would happen when the wind

first caught my little canvas? I suppose it was almost as trying a venture into the regions of the unknown as to

publish a first book, or to marry. But my doubts were not of long duration; and in five minutes you will not

I own I was a little struck by this circumstance myself; of course, in company with the rest of my

fellowmen, I had always tied the sheet in a sailingboat; but in so little and crank a concern as a canoe, and

with these charging squalls, I was not prepared to find myself follow the same principle; and it inspired me

with some contemptuous views of our regard for life. It is certainly easier to smoke with the sheet fastened;

but I had never before weighed a comfortable pipe of tobacco against an obvious risk, and gravely elected for

the comfortable pipe. It is a commonplace, that we cannot answer for ourselves before we have been tried.

But it is not so common a reflection, and surely more consoling, that we usually find ourselves a great deal

braver and better than we thought. I believe this is every one's experience: but an apprehension that they may

belie themselves in the future prevents mankind from trumpeting this cheerful sentiment abroad. I wish

sincerely, for it would have saved me much trouble, there had been some one to put me in a good heart about

life when I was younger; to tell me how dangers are most portentous on a distant sight; and how the good in a

man's spirit will not suffer itself to be overlaid, and rarely or never deserts him in the hour of need. But we

are all for tootling on the sentimental flute in literature; and not a man among us will go to the head of the

It was agreeable upon the river. A barge or two went past laden with hay. Reeds and willows bordered the

stream; and cattle and grey venerable horses came and hung their mild heads over the embankment. Here and

there was a pleasant village among trees, with a noisy shippingyard; here and there a villa in a lawn. The

wind served us well up the Scheldt and thereafter up the Rupel; and we were running pretty free when we

began to sight the brickyards of Boom, lying for a long way on the right bank of the river. The left bank was

still green and pastoral, with alleys of trees along the embankment, and here and there a flight of steps to

serve a ferry, where perhaps there sat a woman with her elbows on her knees, or an old gentleman with a staff

and silver spectacles. But Boom and its brickyards grew smokier and shabbier with every minute; until a

great church with a clock, and a wooden bridge over the river, indicated the central quarters of the town.

Boom is not a nice place, and is only remarkable for one thing: that the majority of the inhabitants have a

private opinion that they can speak English, which is not justified by fact. This gave a kind of haziness to our

intercourse. As for the Hotel de la Navigation, I think it is the worst feature of the place. It boasts of a sanded

parlour, with a bar at one end, looking on the street; and another sanded parlour, darker and colder, with an

empty birdcage and a tricolour subscription box by way of sole adornment, where we made shift to dine in

the company of three uncommunicative engineer apprentices and a silent bagman. The food, as usual in

Belgium, was of a nondescript occasional character; indeed I have never been able to detect anything in the

nature of a meal among this pleasing people; they seem to peck and trifle with viands all day long in an

amateur spirit: tentatively French, truly German, and somehow falling between the two.

The empty birdcage, swept and garnished, and with no trace of the old piping favourite, save where two

wires had been pushed apart to hold its lump of sugar, carried with it a sort of graveyard cheer. The engineer

apprentices would have nothing to say to us, nor indeed to the bagman; but talked low and sparingly to one

another, or raked us in the gaslight with a gleam of spectacles. For though handsome lads, they were all (in

There was an English maid in the hotel, who had been long enough out of England to pick up all sorts of

funny foreign idioms, and all sorts of curious foreign ways, which need not here be specified. She spoke to us

very fluently in her jargon, asked us information as to the manners of the present day in England, and

obligingly corrected us when we attempted to answer. But as we were dealing with a woman, perhaps our

information was not so much thrown away as it appeared. The sex likes to pick up knowledge and yet

preserve its superiority. It is good policy, and almost necessary in the circumstances. If a man finds a woman

admire him, were it only for his acquaintance with geography, he will begin at once to build upon the

admiration. It is only by unintermittent snubbing that the pretty ones can keep us in our place. Men, as Miss

Howe or Miss Harlowe would have said, 'are such ENCROACHERS.' For my part, I am body and soul with

the women; and after a well married couple, there is nothing so beautiful in the world as the myth of the

divine huntress. It is no use for a man to take to the woods; we know him; St. Anthony tried the same thing

long ago, and had a pitiful time of it by all accounts. But there is this about some women, which overtops the

best gymnosophist among men, that they suffice to themselves, and can walk in a high and cold zone without

the countenance of any trousered being. I declare, although the reverse of a professed ascetic, I am more

obliged to women for this ideal than I should be to the majority of them, or indeed to any but one, for a

spontaneous kiss. There is nothing so encouraging as the spectacle of selfsufficiency. And when I think of

the slim and lovely maidens, running the woods all night to the note of Diana's horn; moving among the old

oaks, as fancyfree as they; things of the forest and the starlight, not touched by the commotion of man's hot

and turbid life although there are plenty other ideals that I should prefer I find my heart beat at the

thought of this one. 'Tis to fail in life, but to fail with what a grace! That is not lost which is not regretted.

And where here slips out the male where would be much of the glory of inspiring love, if there were no

NEXT morning, when we set forth on the Willebroek Canal, the rain began heavy and chill. The water of the

canal stood at about the drinking temperature of tea; and under this cold aspersion, the surface was covered

with steam. The exhilaration of departure, and the easy motion of the boats under each stroke of the paddles,

supported us through this misfortune while it lasted; and when the cloud passed and the sun came out again,

our spirits went up above the range of stayathome humours. A good breeze rustled and shivered in the

rows of trees that bordered the canal. The leaves flickered in and out of the light in tumultuous masses. It

seemed sailing weather to eye and ear; but down between the banks, the wind reached us only in faint and

desultory puffs. There was hardly enough to steer by. Progress was intermittent and unsatisfactory. A jocular

person, of marine antecedents, hailed us from the towpath with a 'C'EST VITE, MAIS C'EST LONG.'

The canal was busy enough. Every now and then we met or overtook a long string of boats, with great green

tillers; high sterns with a window on either side of the rudder, and perhaps a jug or a flower pot in one of the

windows; a dinghy following behind; a woman busied about the day's dinner, and a handful of children.

These barges were all tied one behind the other with tow ropes, to the number of twentyfive or thirty; and

the line was headed and kept in motion by a steamer of strange construction. It had neither paddlewheel nor

screw; but by some gear not rightly comprehensible to the unmechanical mind, it fetched up over its bow a

small bright chain which lay along the bottom of the canal, and paying it out again over the stern, dragged

itself forward, link by link, with its whole retinue of loaded skows. Until one had found out the key to the

enigma, there was something solemn and uncomfortable in the progress of one of these trains, as it moved

gently along the water with nothing to mark its advance but an eddy alongside dying away into the wake.

Of all the creatures of commercial enterprise, a canal barge is by far the most delightful to consider. It may

spread its sails, and then you see it sailing high above the treetops and the windmill, sailing on the aqueduct,

sailing through the green cornlands: the most picturesque of things amphibious. Or the horse plods along at

a footpace as if there were no such thing as business in the world; and the man dreaming at the tiller sees the

same spire on the horizon all day long. It is a mystery how things ever get to their destination at this rate; and

to see the barges waiting their turn at a lock, affords a fine lesson of how easily the world may be taken.

There should be many contented spirits on board, for such a life is both to travel and to stay at home.

The chimney smokes for dinner as you go along; the banks of the canal slowly unroll their scenery to

contemplative eyes; the barge floats by great forests and through great cities with their public buildings and

their lamps at night; and for the bargee, in his floating home, 'travelling abed,' it is merely as if he were

listening to another man's story or turning the leaves of a picturebook in which he had no concern. He may

take his afternoon walk in some foreign country on the banks of the canal, and then come home to dinner at

There is not enough exercise in such a life for any high measure of health; but a high measure of health is

only necessary for unhealthy people. The slug of a fellow, who is never ill nor well, has a quiet time of it in

I am sure I would rather be a bargee than occupy any position under heaven that required attendance at an

office. There are few callings, I should say, where a man gives up less of his liberty in return for regular

meals. The bargee is on shipboard he is master in his own ship he can land whenever he will he can

never be kept beating off a leeshore a whole frosty night when the sheets are as hard as iron; and so far as I

can make out, time stands as nearly still with him as is compatible with the return of bedtime or the

Halfway between Willebroek and Villevorde, in a beautiful reach of canal like a squire's avenue, we went

ashore to lunch. There were two eggs, a junk of bread, and a bottle of wine on board the ARETHUSA; and

two eggs and an Etna cooking apparatus on board the CIGARETTE. The master of the latter boat smashed

one of the eggs in the course of disembarkation; but observing pleasantly that it might still be cooked A LA

PAPIER, he dropped it into the Etna, in its covering of Flemish newspaper. We landed in a blink of fine

weather; but we had not been two minutes ashore before the wind freshened into half a gale, and the rain

began to patter on our shoulders. We sat as close about the Etna as we could. The spirits burned with great

ostentation; the grass caught flame every minute or two, and had to be trodden out; and before long, there

were several burnt fingers of the party. But the solid quantity of cookery accomplished was out of proportion

with so much display; and when we desisted, after two applications of the fire, the sound egg was little more

than loowarm; and as for A LA PAPIER, it was a cold and sordid FRICASSEE of printer's ink and broken

eggshell. We made shift to roast the other two, by putting them close to the burning spirits; and that with

better success. And then we uncorked the bottle of wine, and sat down in a ditch with our canoe aprons over

our knees. It rained smartly. Discomfort, when it is honestly uncomfortable and makes no nauseous

pretensions to the contrary, is a vastly humorous business; and people well steeped and stupefied in the open

air are in a good vein for laughter. From this point of view, even egg A LA PAPIER offered by way of food

may pass muster as a sort of accessory to the fun. But this manner of jest, although it may be taken in good

part, does not invite repetition; and from that time forward, the Etna voyaged like a gentleman in the locker of

It is almost unnecessary to mention that when lunch was over and we got aboard again and made sail, the

wind promptly died away. The rest of the journey to Villevorde, we still spread our canvas to the unfavouring

air; and with now and then a puff, and now and then a spell of paddling, drifted along from lock to lock,

It was a fine, green, fat landscape; or rather a mere green water lane, going on from village to village.

Things had a settled look, as in places long lived in. Cropheaded children spat upon us from the bridges as

we went below, with a true conservative feeling. But even more conservative were the fishermen, intent upon

their floats, who let us go by without one glance. They perched upon sterlings and buttresses and along the

slope of the embankment, gently occupied. They were indifferent, like pieces of dead nature. They did not

move any more than if they had been fishing in an old Dutch print. The leaves fluttered, the water lapped, but

they continued in one stay like so many churches established by law. You might have trepanned every one of

their innocent heads, and found no more than so much coiled fishingline below their skulls. I do not care for

your stalwart fellows in indiarubber stockings breasting up mountain torrents with a salmon rod; but I do

dearly love the class of man who plies his unfruitful art, for ever and a day, by still and depopulated waters.

At the last lock, just beyond Villevorde, there was a lockmistress who spoke French comprehensibly, and

told us we were still a couple of leagues from Brussels. At the same place, the rain began again. It fell in

straight, parallel lines; and the surface of the canal was thrown up into an infinity of little crystal fountains.

There were no beds to be had in the neighbourhood. Nothing for it but to lay the sails aside and address

Beautiful country houses, with clocks and long lines of shuttered windows, and fine old trees standing in

groves and avenues, gave a rich and sombre aspect in the rain and the deepening dusk to the shores of the

canal. I seem to have seen something of the same effect in engravings: opulent landscapes, deserted and

overhung with the passage of storm. And throughout we had the escort of a hooded cart, which trotted

THE rain took off near Laeken. But the sun was already down; the air was chill; and we had scarcely a dry

stitch between the pair of us. Nay, now we found ourselves near the end of the Allee Verte, and on the very

threshold of Brussels, we were confronted by a serious difficulty. The shores were closely lined by canal

boats waiting their turn at the lock. Nowhere was there any convenient landingplace; nowhere so much as a

stableyard to leave the canoes in for the night. We scrambled ashore and entered an ESTAMINET where

some sorry fellows were drinking with the landlord. The landlord was pretty round with us; he knew of no

coachhouse or stableyard, nothing of the sort; and seeing we had come with no mind to drink, he did not

conceal his impatience to be rid of us. One of the sorry fellows came to the rescue. Somewhere in the corner

of the basin there was a slip, he informed us, and something else besides, not very clearly defined by him, but

Sure enough there was the slip in the corner of the basin; and at the top of it two nicelooking lads in boating

clothes. The ARETHUSA addressed himself to these. One of them said there would be no difficulty about a

night's lodging for our boats; and the other, taking a cigarette from his lips, inquired if they were made by

Searle and Son. The name was quite an introduction. Halfa dozen other young men came out of a

boathouse bearing the superscription ROYAL SPORT NAUTIQUE, and joined in the talk. They were all

very polite, voluble, and enthusiastic; and their discourse was interlarded with English boating terms, and the

names of English boatbuilders and English clubs. I do not know, to my shame, any spot in my native land

where I should have been so warmly received by the same number of people. We were English boatingmen,

and the Belgian boatingmen fell upon our necks. I wonder if French Huguenots were as cordially greeted by

English Protestants when they came across the Channel out of great tribulation. But after all, what religion

The canoes were carried into the boathouse; they were washed down for us by the Club servants, the sails

were hung out to dry, and everything made as snug and tidy as a picture. And in the meanwhile we were led

upstairs by our newfound brethren, for so more than one of them stated the relationship, and made free of

their lavatory. This one lent us soap, that one a towel, a third and fourth helped us to undo our bags. And all

the time such questions, such assurances of respect and sympathy! I declare I never knew what glory was

'We' this is not a substantive speech, but an abstract of many speeches, the impression left upon my mind

after a great deal of talk; and very youthful, pleasant, natural, and patriotic it seems to me to be 'We have

'O! ENTRE FRERES! In any boathouse in England we should find the same.' (I cordially hope they might.)

'We are all employed in commerce during the day; but in the evening, VOYEZVOUS, NOUS SOMMES

These were the words. They were all employed over the frivolous mercantile concerns of Belgium during the

day; but in the evening they found some hours for the serious concerns of life. I may have a wrong idea of

wisdom, but I think that was a very wise remark. People connected with literature and philosophy are busy all

their days in getting rid of secondhand notions and false standards. It is their profession, in the sweat of their

brows, by dogged thinking, to recover their old fresh view of life, and distinguish what they really and

originally like, from what they have only learned to tolerate perforce. And these Royal Nautical Sportsmen

had the distinction still quite legible in their hearts. They had still those clean perceptions of what is nice and

nasty, what is interesting and what is dull, which envious old gentlemen refer to as illusions. The nightmare

illusion of middle age, the bear's hug of custom gradually squeezing the life out of a man's soul, had not yet

begun for these happystarred young Belgians. They still knew that the interest they took in their business

was a trifling affair compared to their spontaneous, longsuffering affection for nautical sports. To know

what you prefer, instead of humbly saying Amen to what the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have

kept your soul alive. Such a man may be generous; he may be honest in something more than the commercial

sense; he may love his friends with an elective, personal sympathy, and not accept them as an adjunct of the

station to which he has been called. He may be a man, in short, acting on his own instincts, keeping in his

own shape that God made him in; and not a mere crank in the social enginehouse, welded on principles that

For will any one dare to tell me that business is more entertaining than fooling among boats? He must have

never seen a boat, or never seen an office, who says so. And for certain the one is a great deal better for the

health. There should be nothing so much a man's business as his amusements. Nothing but moneygrubbing

durst risk a word in answer. It is but a lying cant that would represent the merchant and the banker as people

disinterestedly toiling for mankind, and then most useful when they are most absorbed in their transactions;

for the man is more important than his services. And when my Royal Nautical Sportsman shall have so far

fallen from his hopeful youth that he cannot pluck up an enthusiasm over anything but his ledger, I venture to

doubt whether he will be near so nice a fellow, and whether he would welcome, with so good a grace, a

When we had changed our wet clothes and drunk a glass of pale ale to the Club's prosperity, one of their

number escorted us to an hotel. He would not join us at our dinner, but he had no objection to a glass of wine.

Enthusiasm is very wearing; and I begin to understand why prophets were unpopular in Judaea, where they

were best known. For three stricken hours did this excellent young man sit beside us to dilate on boats and

We endeavoured now and again to change the subject; but the diversion did not last a moment: the Royal

Nautical Sportsman bridled, shied, answered the question, and then breasted once more into the swelling tide

of his subject. I call it his subject; but I think it was he who was subjected. The ARETHUSA, who holds all

racing as a creature of the devil, found himself in a pitiful dilemma. He durst not own his ignorance for the

honour of Old England, and spoke away about English clubs and English oarsmen whose fame had never

before come to his ears. Several times, and, once above all, on the question of slidingseats, he was within an

ace of exposure. As for the CIGARETTE, who has rowed races in the heat of his blood, but now disowns

these slips of his wanton youth, his case was still more desperate; for the Royal Nautical proposed that he

should take an oar in one of their eights on the morrow, to compare the English with the Belgian stroke. I

could see my friend perspiring in his chair whenever that particular topic came up. And there was yet another

proposal which had the same effect on both of us. It appeared that the champion canoeist of Europe (as well

as most other champions) was a Royal Nautical Sportsman. And if we would only wait until the Sunday, this

infernal paddler would be so condescending as to accompany us on our next stage. Neither of us had the least

When the young man was gone, we countermanded our candles, and ordered some brandy and water. The

great billows had gone over our head. The Royal Nautical Sportsmen were as nice young fellows as a man

would wish to see, but they were a trifle too young and a thought too nautical for us. We began to see that we

were old and cynical; we liked ease and the agreeable rambling of the human mind about this and the other

subject; we did not want to disgrace our native land by messing an eight, or toiling pitifully in the wake of the

champion canoeist. In short, we had recourse to flight. It seemed ungrateful, but we tried to make that good

on a card loaded with sincere compliments. And indeed it was no time for scruples; we seemed to feel the hot

PARTLY from the terror we had of our good friends the Royal Nauticals, partly from the fact that there were

no fewer than fiftyfive locks between Brussels and Charleroi, we concluded that we should travel by train

across the frontier, boats and all. Fiftyfive locks in a day's journey was pretty well tantamount to trudging

the whole distance on foot, with the canoes upon our shoulders, an object of astonishment to the trees on the

To pass the frontier, even in a train, is a difficult matter for the ARETHUSA. He is somehow or other a

marked man for the official eye. Wherever he journeys, there are the officers gathered together. Treaties are

solemnly signed, foreign ministers, ambassadors, and consuls sit throned in state from China to Peru, and the

Union Jack flutters on all the winds of heaven. Under these safeguards, portly clergymen, schoolmistresses,

gentlemen in grey tweed suits, and all the ruck and rabble of British touristry pour unhindered, MURRAY in

hand, over the railways of the Continent, and yet the slim person of the ARETHUSA is taken in the meshes,

while these great fish go on their way rejoicing. If he travels without a passport, he is cast, without any figure

about the matter, into noisome dungeons: if his papers are in order, he is suffered to go his way indeed, but

not until he has been humiliated by a general incredulity. He is a born British subject, yet he has never

succeeded in persuading a single official of his nationality. He flatters himself he is indifferent honest; yet he

is rarely taken for anything better than a spy, and there is no absurd and disreputable means of livelihood but

For the life of me I cannot understand it. I too have been knolled to church, and sat at good men's feasts; but I

bear no mark of it. I am as strange as a Jack Indian to their official spectacles. I might come from any part of

the globe, it seems, except from where I do. My ancestors have laboured in vain, and the glorious

Constitution cannot protect me in my walks abroad. It is a great thing, believe me, to present a good normal

Nobody else was asked for his papers on the way to Maubeuge; but I was; and although I clung to my rights,

I had to choose at last between accepting the humiliation and being left behind by the train. I was sorry to

Maubeuge is a fortified town, with a very good inn, the GRAND CERF. It seemed to be inhabited principally

by soldiers and bagmen; at least, these were all that we saw, except the hotel servants. We had to stay there

some time, for the canoes were in no hurry to follow us, and at last stuck hopelessly in the customhouse

until we went back to liberate them. There was nothing to do, nothing to see. We had good meals, which was

The CIGARETTE was nearly taken up upon a charge of drawing the fortifications: a feat of which he was

hopelessly incapable. And besides, as I suppose each belligerent nation has a plan of the other's fortified

places already, these precautions are of the nature of shutting the stable door after the steed is away. But I

have no doubt they help to keep up a good spirit at home. It is a great thing if you can persuade people that

they are somehow or other partakers in a mystery. It makes them feel bigger. Even the Freemasons, who have

been shown up to satiety, preserve a kind of pride; and not a grocer among them, however honest, harmless,

and emptyheaded he may feel himself to be at bottom, but comes home from one of their COENACULA

It is an odd thing, how happily two people, if there are two, can live in a place where they have no

acquaintance. I think the spectacle of a whole life in which you have no part paralyses personal desire. You

are content to become a mere spectator. The baker stands in his door; the colonel with his three medals goes

by to the CAFE at night; the troops drum and trumpet and man the ramparts, as bold as so many lions. It

would task language to say how placidly you behold all this. In a place where you have taken some root, you

are provoked out of your indifference; you have a hand in the game; your friends are fighting with the army.

But in a strange town, not small enough to grow too soon familiar, nor so large as to have laid itself out for

travellers, you stand so far apart from the business, that you positively forget it would be possible to go

nearer; you have so little human interest around you, that you do not remember yourself to be a man. Perhaps,

in a very short time, you would be one no longer. Gymnosophists go into a wood, with all nature seething

around them, with romance on every side; it would be much more to the purpose if they took up their abode

in a dull country town, where they should see just so much of humanity as to keep them from desiring more,

and only the stale externals of man's life. These externals are as dead to us as so many formalities, and speak

a dead language in our eyes and ears. They have no more meaning than an oath or a salutation. We are so

much accustomed to see married couples going to church of a Sunday that we have clean forgotten what they

represent; and novelists are driven to rehabilitate adultery, no less, when they wish to show us what a

One person in Maubeuge, however, showed me something more than his outside. That was the driver of the

hotel omnibus: a mean enough looking little man, as well as I can remember; but with a spark of something

human in his soul. He had heard of our little journey, and came to me at once in envious sympathy. How he

longed to travel! he told me. How he longed to be somewhere else, and see the round world before he went

into the grave! 'Here I am,' said he. 'I drive to the station. Well. And then I drive back again to the hotel. And

so on every day and all the week round. My God, is that life?' I could not say I thought it was for him. He

pressed me to tell him where I had been, and where I hoped to go; and as he listened, I declare the fellow

sighed. Might not this have been a brave African traveller, or gone to the Indies after Drake? But it is an evil

age for the gypsily inclined among men. He who can sit squarest on a threelegged stool, he it is who has the

I wonder if my friend is still driving the omnibus for the Grand Cerf? Not very likely, I believe; for I think he

was on the eve of mutiny when we passed through, and perhaps our passage determined him for good. Better

a thousand times that he should be a tramp, and mend pots and pans by the wayside, and sleep under trees,

and see the dawn and the sunset every day above a new horizon. I think I hear you say that it is a respectable

position to drive an omnibus? Very well. What right has he who likes it not, to keep those who would like it

dearly out of this respectable position? Suppose a dish were not to my taste, and you told me that it was a

favourite amongst the rest of the company, what should I conclude from that? Not to finish the dish against

Respectability is a very good thing in its way, but it does not rise superior to all considerations. I would not

for a moment venture to hint that it was a matter of taste; but I think I will go as far as this: that if a position

is admittedly unkind, uncomfortable, unnecessary, and superfluously useless, although it were as respectable

as the Church of England, the sooner a man is out of it, the better for himself, and all concerned.

ABOUT three in the afternoon the whole establishment of the GRAND CERF accompanied us to the water's

edge. The man of the omnibus was there with haggard eyes. Poor cagebird! Do I not remember the time

when I myself haunted the station, to watch train after train carry its complement of freemen into the night,

and read the names of distant places on the timebills with indescribable longings?

We were not clear of the fortifications before the rain began. The wind was contrary, and blew in furious

gusts; nor were the aspects of nature any more clement than the doings of the sky. For we passed through a

stretch of blighted country, sparsely covered with brush, but handsomely enough diversified with factory

chimneys. We landed in a soiled meadow among some pollards, and there smoked a pipe in a flaw of fair

weather. But the wind blew so hard, we could get little else to smoke. There were no natural objects in the

neighbourhood, but some sordid workshops. A group of children headed by a tall girl stood and watched us

from a little distance all the time we stayed. I heartily wonder what they thought of us.

At Hautmont, the lock was almost impassable; the landingplace being steep and high, and the launch at a

long distance. Near a dozen grimy workmen lent us a hand. They refused any reward; and, what is much

better, refused it handsomely, without conveying any sense of insult. 'It is a way we have in our countryside,'

said they. And a very becoming way it is. In Scotland, where also you will get services for nothing, the good

people reject your money as if you had been trying to corrupt a voter. When people take the trouble to do

dignified acts, it is worth while to take a little more, and allow the dignity to be common to all concerned. But

in our brave Saxon countries, where we plod threescore years and ten in the mud, and the wind keeps singing

in our ears from birth to burial, we do our good and bad with a high hand and almost offensively; and make

After Hautmont, the sun came forth again and the wind went down; and a little paddling took us beyond the

ironworks and through a delectable land. The river wound among low hills, so that sometimes the sun was at

our backs, and sometimes it stood right ahead, and the river before us was one sheet of intolerable glory. On

either hand, meadows and orchards bordered, with a margin of sedge and water flowers, upon the river. The

hedges were of great height, woven about the trunks of hedgerow elms; and the fields, as they were often

very small, looked like a series of bowers along the stream. There was never any prospect; sometimes a

hilltop with its trees would look over the nearest hedgerow, just to make a middle distance for the sky; but

that was all. The heaven was bare of clouds. The atmosphere, after the rain, was of enchanting purity. The

river doubled among the hillocks, a shining strip of mirror glass; and the dip of the paddles set the flowers

In the meadows wandered black and white cattle fantastically marked. One beast, with a white head and the

rest of the body glossy black, came to the edge to drink, and stood gravely twitching his ears at me as I went

by, like some sort of preposterous clergyman in a play. A moment after I heard a loud plunge, and, turning

my head, saw the clergyman struggling to shore. The bank had given way under his feet.

Besides the cattle, we saw no living things except a few birds and a great many fishermen. These sat along

the edges of the meadows, sometimes with one rod, sometimes with as many as half a score. They seemed

stupefied with contentment; and when we induced them to exchange a few words with us about the weather,

their voices sounded quiet and far away. There was a strange diversity of opinion among them as to the kind

of fish for which they set their lures; although they were all agreed in this, that the river was abundantly

supplied. Where it was plain that no two of them had ever caught the same kind of fish, we could not help

suspecting that perhaps not any one of them had ever caught a fish at all. I hope, since the afternoon was so

lovely, that they were one and all rewarded; and that a silver booty went home in every basket for the pot.

Some of my friends would cry shame on me for this; but I prefer a man, were he only an angler, to the bravest

pair of gills in all God's waters. I do not affect fishes unless when cooked in sauce; whereas an angler is an

important piece of river scenery, and hence deserves some recognition among canoeists. He can always tell

you where you are after a mild fashion; and his quiet presence serves to accentuate the solitude and stillness,

The Sambre turned so industriously to and fro among his little hills, that it was past six before we drew near

the lock at Quartes. There were some children on the towpath, with whom the CIGARETTE fell into a

chaffing talk as they ran along beside us. It was in vain that I warned him. In vain I told him, in English, that

boys were the most dangerous creatures; and if once you began with them, it was safe to end in a shower of

stones. For my own part, whenever anything was addressed to me, I smiled gently and shook my head as

though I were an inoffensive person inadequately acquainted with French. For indeed I have had such

experience at home, that I would sooner meet many wild animals than a troop of healthy urchins.

But I was doing injustice to these peaceable young Hainaulters. When the CIGARETTE went off to make

inquiries, I got out upon the bank to smoke a pipe and superintend the boats, and became at once the centre of

much amiable curiosity. The children had been joined by this time by a young woman and a mild lad who

had lost an arm; and this gave me more security. When I let slip my first word or so in French, a little girl

nodded her head with a comical grownup air. 'Ah, you see,' she said, 'he understands well enough now; he

was just making believe.' And the little group laughed together very goodnaturedly.

They were much impressed when they heard we came from England; and the little girl proffered the

information that England was an island 'and a far way from here BIEN LOIN D'ICI.'

I was as nearly homesick as ever I was in my life; they seemed to make it such an incalculable distance to

the place where I first saw the day. They admired the canoes very much. And I observed one piece of

delicacy in these children, which is worthy of record. They had been deafening us for the last hundred yards

with petitions for a sail; ay, and they deafened us to the same tune next morning when we came to start; but

then, when the canoes were lying empty, there was no word of any such petition. Delicacy? or perhaps a bit

of fear for the water in so crank a vessel? I hate cynicism a great deal worse than I do the devil; unless

perhaps the two were the same thing? And yet 'tis a good tonic; the cold tub and bathtowel of the

From the boats they turned to my costume. They could not make enough of my red sash; and my knife filled

'They make them like that in England,' said the boy with one arm. I was glad he did not know how badly we

make them in England nowa days. 'They are for people who go away to sea,' he added, 'and to defend one's

I felt I was becoming a more and more romantic figure to the little group at every word. And so I suppose I

was. Even my pipe, although it was an ordinary French clay pretty well 'trousered,' as they call it, would have

a rarity in their eyes, as a thing coming from so far away. And if my feathers were not very fine in

themselves, they were all from over seas. One thing in my outfit, however, tickled them out of all politeness;

and that was the bemired condition of my canvas shoes. I suppose they were sure the mud at any rate was a

home product. The little girl (who was the genius of the party) displayed her own sabots in competition; and I

The young woman's milkcan, a great amphora of hammered brass, stood some way off upon the sward. I

was glad of an opportunity to divert public attention from myself, and return some of the compliments I had

received. So I admired it cordially both for form and colour, telling them, and very truly, that it was as

beautiful as gold. They were not surprised. The things were plainly the boast of the countryside. And the

children expatiated on the costliness of these amphorae, which sell sometimes as high as thirty francs apiece;

told me how they were carried on donkeys, one on either side of the saddle, a brave caparison in themselves;

and how they were to be seen all over the district, and at the larger farms in great number and of great size.

THE CIGARETTE returned with good news. There were beds to be had some ten minutes' walk from where

we were, at a place called Pont. We stowed the canoes in a granary, and asked among the children for a

guide. The circle at once widened round us, and our offers of reward were received in dispiriting silence. We

were plainly a pair of Bluebeards to the children; they might speak to us in public places, and where they had

the advantage of numbers; but it was another thing to venture off alone with two uncouth and legendary

characters, who had dropped from the clouds upon their hamlet this quiet afternoon, sashed and beknived,

and with a flavour of great voyages. The owner of the granary came to our assistance, singled out one little

fellow and threatened him with corporalities; or I suspect we should have had to find the way for ourselves.

As it was, he was more frightened at the granary man than the strangers, having perhaps had some experience

of the former. But I fancy his little heart must have been going at a fine rate; for he kept trotting at a

respectful distance in front, and looking back at us with scared eyes. Not otherwise may the children of the

A miry lane led us up from Quartes with its church and bickering windmill. The hinds were trudging

homewards from the fields. A brisk little woman passed us by. She was seated across a donkey between a

pair of glittering milkcans; and, as she went, she kicked jauntily with her heels upon the donkey's side, and

scattered shrill remarks among the wayfarers. It was notable that none of the tired men took the trouble to

reply. Our conductor soon led us out of the lane and across country. The sun had gone down, but the west in

front of us was one lake of level gold. The path wandered a while in the open, and then passed under a trellis

like a bower indefinitely prolonged. On either hand were shadowy orchards; cottages lay low among the

leaves, and sent their smoke to heaven; every here and there, in an opening, appeared the great gold face of

I never saw the CIGARETTE in such an idyllic frame of mind. He waxed positively lyrical in praise of

country scenes. I was little less exhilarated myself; the mild air of the evening, the shadows, the rich lights

and the silence, made a symphonious accompaniment about our walk; and we both determined to avoid towns

At last the path went between two houses, and turned the party out into a wide muddy highroad, bordered,

as far as the eye could reach on either hand, by an unsightly village. The houses stood well back, leaving a

ribbon of waste land on either side of the road, where there were stacks of firewood, carts, barrows, rubbish

heaps, and a little doubtful grass. Away on the left, a gaunt tower stood in the middle of the street. What it

had been in past ages, I know not: probably a hold in time of war; but nowadays it bore an illegible

The inn to which we had been recommended at Quartes was full, or else the landlady did not like our looks. I

ought to say, that with our long, damp indiarubber bags, we presented rather a doubtful type of civilisation:

like ragandbone men, the CIGARETTE imagined. 'These gentlemen are pedlars? CES MESSIEURS

SONT DES MARCHANDS?' asked the landlady. And then, without waiting for an answer, which I

suppose she thought superfluous in so plain a case, recommended us to a butcher who lived hard by the

Thither went we. But the butcher was flitting, and all his beds were taken down. Or else he didn't like our

It began to grow dark in earnest. We could no longer distinguish the faces of the people who passed us by

with an inarticulate good evening. And the householders of Pont seemed very economical with their oil; for

we saw not a single window lighted in all that long village. I believe it is the longest village in the world; but

I daresay in our predicament every pace counted three times over. We were much cast down when we came

to the last auberge; and looking in at the dark door, asked timidly if we could sleep there for the night. A

female voice assented in no very friendly tones. We clapped the bags down and found our way to chairs.

The place was in total darkness, save a red glow in the chinks and ventilators of the stove. But now the

landlady lit a lamp to see her new guests; I suppose the darkness was what saved us another expulsion; for I

cannot say she looked gratified at our appearance. We were in a large bare apartment, adorned with two

allegorical prints of Music and Painting, and a copy of the law against public drunkenness. On one side, there

was a bit of a bar, with some halfadozen bottles. Two labourers sat waiting supper, in attitudes of extreme

weariness; a plainlooking lass bustled about with a sleepy child of two; and the landlady began to derange

'These gentlemen are pedlars?' she asked sharply. And that was all the conversation forthcoming. We began

to think we might be pedlars after all. I never knew a population with so narrow a range of conjecture as the

innkeepers of PontsurSambre. But manners and bearing have not a wider currency than banknotes. You

have only to get far enough out of your beat, and all your accomplished airs will go for nothing. These

Hainaulters could see no difference between us and the average pedlar. Indeed we had some grounds for

reflection while the steak was getting ready, to see how perfectly they accepted us at their own valuation, and

how our best politeness and best efforts at entertainment seemed to fit quite suitably with the character of

packmen. At least it seemed a good account of the profession in France, that even before such judges we

At last we were called to table. The two hinds (and one of them looked sadly worn and white in the face, as

though sick with over work and underfeeding) supped off a single plate of some sort of breadberry, some

potatoes in their jackets, a small cup of coffee sweetened with sugarcandy, and one tumbler of swipes. The

landlady, her son, and the lass aforesaid, took the same. Our meal was quite a banquet by comparison. We

had some beefsteak, not so tender as it might have been, some of the potatoes, some cheese, an extra glass of

You see what it is to be a gentleman I beg your pardon, what it is to be a pedlar. It had not before occurred

to me that a pedlar was a great man in a labourer's alehouse; but now that I had to enact the part for an

evening, I found that so it was. He has in his hedge quarters somewhat the same preeminency as the man

who takes a private parlour in an hotel. The more you look into it, the more infinite are the class distinctions

among men; and possibly, by a happy dispensation, there is no one at all at the bottom of the scale; no one

We were displeased enough with our fare. Particularly the CIGARETTE, for I tried to make believe that I

was amused with the adventure, tough beefsteak and all. According to the Lucretian maxim, our steak should

have been flavoured by the look of the other people's breadberry. But we did not find it so in practice. You

may have a headknowledge that other people live more poorly than yourself, but it is not agreeable I was

going to say, it is against the etiquette of the universe to sit at the same table and pick your own superior

diet from among their crusts. I had not seen such a thing done since the greedy boy at school with his

birthday cake. It was odious enough to witness, I could remember; and I had never thought to play the part

There is no doubt that the poorer classes in our country are much more charitably disposed than their

superiors in wealth. And I fancy it must arise a great deal from the comparative indistinction of the easy and

the not so easy in these ranks. A workman or a pedlar cannot shutter himself off from his less comfortable

neighbours. If he treats himself to a luxury, he must do it in the face of a dozen who cannot. And what should

more directly lead to charitable thoughts? . . . Thus the poor man, camping out in life, sees it as it is, and

knows that every mouthful he puts in his belly has been wrenched out of the fingers of the hungry.

But at a certain stage of prosperity, as in a balloon ascent, the fortunate person passes through a zone of

clouds, and sublunary matters are thenceforward hidden from his view. He sees nothing but the heavenly

bodies, all in admirable order, and positively as good as new. He finds himself surrounded in the most

touching manner by the attentions of Providence, and compares himself involuntarily with the lilies and the

skylarks. He does not precisely sing, of course; but then he looks so unassuming in his open landau! If all the

LIKE the lackeys in Moliere's farce, when the true nobleman broke in on their high life below stairs, we were

destined to be confronted with a real pedlar. To make the lesson still more poignant for fallen gentlemen like

us, he was a pedlar of infinitely more consideration than the sort of scurvy fellows we were taken for: like a

lion among mice, or a ship of war bearing down upon two cockboats. Indeed, he did not deserve the name

I suppose it was about halfpast eight when this worthy, Monsieur Hector Gilliard of Maubeuge, turned up at

the alehouse door in a tilt cart drawn by a donkey, and cried cheerily on the inhabitants. He was a lean,

nervous flibbertigibbet of a man, with something the look of an actor, and something the look of a

horsejockey. He had evidently prospered without any of the favours of education; for he adhered with stern

simplicity to the masculine gender, and in the course of the evening passed off some fancy futures in a very

florid style of architecture. With him came his wife, a comely young woman with her hair tied in a yellow

kerchief, and their son, a little fellow of four, in a blouse and military KEPI. It was notable that the child was

many degrees better dressed than either of the parents. We were informed he was already at a boarding

school; but the holidays having just commenced, he was off to spend them with his parents on a cruise. An

enchanting holiday occupation, was it not? to travel all day with father and mother in the tilt cart full of

countless treasures; the green country rattling by on either side, and the children in all the villages

contemplating him with envy and wonder? It is better fun, during the holidays, to be the son of a travelling

merchant, than son and heir to the greatest cottonspinner in creation. And as for being a reigning prince

While M. Hector and the son of the house were putting up the donkey, and getting all the valuables under

lock and key, the landlady warmed up the remains of our beefsteak, and fried the cold potatoes in slices, and

Madame Gilliard set herself to waken the boy, who had come far that day, and was peevish and dazzled by

the light. He was no sooner awake than he began to prepare himself for supper by eating galette, unripe pears,

and cold potatoes with, so far as I could judge, positive benefit to his appetite.

The landlady, fired with motherly emulation, awoke her own little girl; and the two children were confronted.

Master Gilliard looked at her for a moment, very much as a dog looks at his own reflection in a mirror before

he turns away. He was at that time absorbed in the galette. His mother seemed crestfallen that he should

display so little inclination towards the other sex; and expressed her disappointment with some candour and a

Sure enough a time will come when he will pay more attention to the girls, and think a great deal less of his

mother: let us hope she will like it as well as she seemed to fancy. But it is odd enough; the very women who

profess most contempt for mankind as a sex, seem to find even its ugliest particulars rather lively and

The little girl looked longer and with more interest, probably because she was in her own house, while he was

a traveller and accustomed to strange sights. And besides there was no galette in the case with her.

All the time of supper, there was nothing spoken of but my young lord. The two parents were both absurdly

fond of their child. Monsieur kept insisting on his sagacity: how he knew all the children at school by name;

and when this utterly failed on trial, how he was cautious and exact to a strange degree, and if asked anything,

he would sit and think and think, and if he did not know it, 'my faith, he wouldn't tell you at all FOI, IL

NE VOUS LE DIRA PAS': which is certainly a very high degree of caution. At intervals, M. Hector would

appeal to his wife, with his mouth full of beefsteak, as to the little fellow's age at such or such a time when he

had said or done something memorable; and I noticed that Madame usually poohpoohed these inquiries. She

herself was not boastful in her vein; but she never had her fill of caressing the child; and she seemed to take a

gentle pleasure in recalling all that was fortunate in his little existence. No schoolboy could have talked more

of the holidays which were just beginning and less of the black schooltime which must inevitably follow

after. She showed, with a pride perhaps partly mercantile in origin, his pockets preposterously swollen with

tops and whistles and string. When she called at a house in the way of business, it appeared he kept her

company; and whenever a sale was made, received a sou out of the profit. Indeed they spoiled him vastly,

these two good people. But they had an eye to his manners for all that, and reproved him for some little faults

On the whole, I was not much hurt at being taken for a pedlar. I might think that I ate with greater delicacy,

or that my mistakes in French belonged to a different order; but it was plain that these distinctions would be

thrown away upon the landlady and the two labourers. In all essential things we and the Gilliards cut very

much the same figure in the alehouse kitchen. M. Hector was more at home, indeed, and took a higher tone

with the world; but that was explicable on the ground of his driving a donkeycart, while we poor bodies

tramped afoot. I daresay, the rest of the company thought us dying with envy, though in no ill sense, to be as

And of one thing I am sure: that every one thawed and became more humanised and conversible as soon as

these innocent people appeared upon the scene. I would not very readily trust the travelling merchant with

any extravagant sum of money; but I am sure his heart was in the right place. In this mixed world, if you can

find one or two sensible places in a man above all, if you should find a whole family living together on

such pleasant terms you may surely be satisfied, and take the rest for granted; or, what is a great deal better,

boldly make up your mind that you can do perfectly well without the rest; and that ten thousand bad traits

It was getting late. M. Hector lit a stable lantern and went off to his cart for some arrangements; and my

young gentleman proceeded to divest himself of the better part of his raiment, and play gymnastics on his

'You sleep alone at school,' objected his mother. 'Come, come, you must be a man.'

But he protested that school was a different matter from the holidays; that there were dormitories at school;

and silenced the discussion with kisses: his mother smiling, no one better pleased than she.

There certainly was, as he phrased it, very little fear that he should sleep alone; for there was but one bed for

the trio. We, on our part, had firmly protested against one man's accommodation for two; and we had a

doublebedded pen in the loft of the house, furnished, beside the beds, with exactly three hatpegs and one

table. There was not so much as a glass of water. But the window would open, by good fortune.

Some time before I fell asleep the loft was full of the sound of mighty snoring: the Gilliards, and the

labourers, and the people of the inn, all at it, I suppose, with one consent. The young moon outside shone

very clearly over PontsurSambre, and down upon the alehouse where all we pedlars were abed.

IN the morning, when we came downstairs, the landlady pointed out to us two pails of water behind the

streetdoor. 'VOILA DE L'EAU POUR VOUS DEBARBOUILLER,' says she. And so there we made a shift

to wash ourselves, while Madame Gilliard brushed the family boots on the outer doorstep, and M. Hector,

whistling cheerily, arranged some small goods for the day's campaign in a portable chest of drawers, which

formed a part of his baggage. Meanwhile the child was letting off Waterloo crackers all over the floor.

I wonder, bythebye, what they call Waterloo crackers in France; perhaps Austerlitz crackers. There is a

great deal in the point of view. Do you remember the Frenchman who, travelling by way of Southampton,

was put down in Waterloo Station, and had to drive across Waterloo Bridge? He had a mind to go home

Pont itself is on the river, but whereas it is ten minutes' walk from Quartes by dry land, it is six weary

kilometres by water. We left our bags at the inn, and walked to our canoes through the wet orchards

unencumbered. Some of the children were there to see us off, but we were no longer the mysterious beings of

the night before. A departure is much less romantic than an unexplained arrival in the golden evening.

Although we might be greatly taken at a ghost's first appearance, we should behold him vanish with

The good folk of the inn at Pont, when we called there for the bags, were overcome with marvelling. At sight

of these two dainty little boats, with a fluttering Union Jack on each, and all the varnish shining from the

sponge, they began to perceive that they had entertained angels unawares. The landlady stood upon the

bridge, probably lamenting she had charged so little; the son ran to and fro, and called out the neighbours to

enjoy the sight; and we paddled away from quite a crowd of wrapt observers. These gentlemen pedlars,

The whole day was showery, with occasional drenching plumps. We were soaked to the skin, then partially

dried in the sun, then soaked once more. But there were some calm intervals, and one notably, when we were

skirting the forest of Mormal, a sinister name to the ear, but a place most gratifying to sight and smell. It

looked solemn along the riverside, drooping its boughs into the water, and piling them up aloft into a wall of

leaves. What is a forest but a city of nature's own, full of hardy and innocuous living things, where there is

nothing dead and nothing made with the hands, but the citizens themselves are the houses and public

monuments? There is nothing so much alive, and yet so quiet, as a woodland; and a pair of people, swinging

And surely of all smells in the world, the smell of many trees is the sweetest and most fortifying. The sea has

a rude, pistolling sort of odour, that takes you in the nostrils like snuff, and carries with it a fine sentiment of

open water and tall ships; but the smell of a forest, which comes nearest to this in tonic quality, surpasses it

by many degrees in the quality of softness. Again, the smell of the sea has little variety, but the smell of a

forest is infinitely changeful; it varies with the hour of the day, not in strength merely, but in character; and

the different sorts of trees, as you go from one zone of the wood to another, seem to live among different

kinds of atmosphere. Usually the resin of the fir predominates. But some woods are more coquettish in their

habits; and the breath of the forest of Mormal, as it came aboard upon us that showery afternoon, was

I wish our way had always lain among woods. Trees are the most civil society. An old oak that has been

growing where he stands since before the Reformation, taller than many spires, more stately than the greater

part of mountains, and yet a living thing, liable to sicknesses and death, like you and me: is not that in itself a

speaking lesson in history? But acres on acres full of such patriarchs contiguously rooted, their green tops

billowing in the wind, their stalwart younglings pushing up about their knees: a whole forest, healthy and

beautiful, giving colour to the light, giving perfume to the air: what is this but the most imposing piece in

nature's repertory? Heine wished to lie like Merlin under the oaks of Broceliande. I should not be satisfied

with one tree; but if the wood grew together like a banyan grove, I would be buried under the taproot of the

whole; my parts should circulate from oak to oak; and my consciousness should be diffused abroad in all the

forest, and give a common heart to that assembly of green spires, so that it also might rejoice in its own

loveliness and dignity. I think I feel a thousand squirrels leaping from bough to bough in my vast mausoleum;

Alas! the forest of Mormal is only a little bit of a wood, and it was but for a little way that we skirted by its

boundaries. And the rest of the time the rain kept coming in squirts and the wind in squalls, until one's heart

grew weary of such fitful, scolding weather. It was odd how the showers began when we had to carry the

boats over a lock, and must expose our legs. They always did. This is a sort of thing that readily begets a

personal feeling against nature. There seems no reason why the shower should not come five minutes before

or five minutes after, unless you suppose an intention to affront you. The CIGARETTE had a mackintosh

which put him more or less above these contrarieties. But I had to bear the brunt uncovered. I began to

remember that nature was a woman. My companion, in a rosier temper, listened with great satisfaction to my

Jeremiads, and ironically concurred. He instanced, as a cognate matter, the action of the tides, 'which,' said

he, 'was altogether designed for the confusion of canoeists, except in so far as it was calculated to minister to

At the last lock, some little way out of Landrecies, I refused to go any farther; and sat in a drift of rain by the

side of the bank, to have a reviving pipe. A vivacious old man, whom I take to have been the devil, drew near

and questioned me about our journey. In the fulness of my heart, I laid bare our plans before him. He said it

was the silliest enterprise that ever he heard of. Why, did I not know, he asked me, that it was nothing but

locks, locks, locks, the whole way? not to mention that, at this season of the year, we should find the Oise

quite dry? 'Get into a train, my little young man,' said he, I and go you away home to your parents.' I was so

astounded at the man's malice, that I could only stare at him in silence. A tree would never have spoken to me

like this. At last I got out with some words. We had come from Antwerp already, I told him, which was a

good long way; and we should do the rest in spite of him. Yes, I said, if there were no other reason, I would

do it now, just because he had dared to say we could not. The pleasant old gentleman looked at me

I was still inwardly fuming, when up came a pair of young fellows, who imagined I was the CIGARETTE'S

servant, on a comparison, I suppose, of my bare jersey with the other's mackintosh, and asked me many

questions about my place and my master's character. I said he was a good enough fellow, but had this absurd

voyage on the head. 'O no, no,' said one, 'you must not say that; it is not absurd; it is very courageous of him.'

I believe these were a couple of angels sent to give me heart again. It was truly fortifying to reproduce all the

old man's insinuations, as if they were original to me in my character of a malcontent footman, and have them

When I recounted this affair to the CIGARETTE, 'They must have a curious idea of how English servants

AT Landrecies the rain still fell and the wind still blew; but we found a doublebedded room with plenty of

furniture, real water jugs with real water in them, and dinner: a real dinner, not innocent of real wine. After

having been a pedlar for one night, and a butt for the elements during the whole of the next day, these

comfortable circumstances fell on my heart like sunshine. There was an English fruiterer at dinner, travelling

with a Belgian fruiterer; in the evening at the CAFE, we watched our compatriot drop a good deal of money

It turned out we were to see more of Landrecies than we expected; for the weather next day was simply

bedlamite. It is not the place one would have chosen for a day's rest; for it consists almost entirely of

fortifications. Within the ramparts, a few blocks of houses, a long row of barracks, and a church, figure, with

what countenance they may, as the town. There seems to be no trade; and a shopkeeper from whom I bought

a sixpenny flintandsteel, was so much affected that he filled my pockets with spare flints into the bargain.

The only public buildings that had any interest for us were the hotel and the CAFE. But we visited the

church. There lies Marshal Clarke. But as neither of us had ever heard of that military hero, we bore the

In all garrison towns, guardcalls, and REVEILLES, and such like, make a fine romantic interlude in civic

business. Bugles, and drums, and fifes, are of themselves most excellent things in nature; and when they carry

the mind to marching armies, and the picturesque vicissitudes of war, they stir up something proud in the

heart. But in a shadow of a town like Landrecies, with little else moving, these points of war made a

proportionate commotion. Indeed, they were the only things to remember. It was just the place to hear the

round going by at night in the darkness, with the solid tramp of men marching, and the startling

reverberations of the drum. It reminded you, that even this place was a point in the great warfaring system of

Europe, and might on some future day be ringed about with cannon smoke and thunder, and make itself a

The drum, at any rate, from its martial voice and notable physiological effect, nay, even from its cumbrous

and comical shape, stands alone among the instruments of noise. And if it be true, as I have heard it said, that

drums are covered with asses' skin, what a picturesque irony is there in that! As if this long suffering

animal's hide had not been sufficiently belaboured during life, now by Lyonnese costermongers, now by

presumptuous Hebrew prophets, it must be stripped from his poor hinder quarters after death, stretched on a

drum, and beaten night after night round the streets of every garrison town in Europe. And up the heights of

Alma and Spicheren, and wherever death has his red flag aflying, and sounds his own potent tuck upon the

cannons, there also must the drummerboy, hurrying with white face over fallen comrades, batter and bemaul

Generally a man is never more uselessly employed than when he is at this trick of bastinadoing asses' hide.

We know what effect it has in life, and how your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating. But in this

state of mummy and melancholy survival of itself, when the hollow skin reverberates to the drummer's wrist,

and each dub adub goes direct to a man's heart, and puts madness there, and that disposition of the pulses

which we, in our big way of talking, nickname Heroism: is there not something in the nature of a revenge

upon the donkey's persecutors? Of old, he might say, you drubbed me up hill and down dale, and I must

endure; but now that I am dead, those dull thwacks that were scarcely audible in country lanes, have become

stirring music in front of the brigade; and for every blow that you lay on my old greatcoat, you will see a

Not long after the drums had passed the CAFE, the CIGARETTE and the ARETHUSA began to grow sleepy,

and set out for the hotel, which was only a door or two away. But although we had been somewhat indifferent

to Landrecies, Landrecies had not been indifferent to us. All day, we learned, people had been running out

between the squalls to visit our two boats. Hundreds of persons, so said report, although it fitted ill with our

idea of the town hundreds of persons had inspected them where they lay in a coalshed. We were becoming

And now, when we left the CAFE, we were pursued and overtaken at the hotel door by no less a person than

the JUGE DE PAIX: a functionary, as far as I can make out, of the character of a Scots SheriffSubstitute.

He gave us his card and invited us to sup with him on the spot, very neatly, very gracefully, as Frenchmen

can do these things. It was for the credit of Landrecies, said he; and although we knew very well how little

credit we could do the place, we must have been churlish fellows to refuse an invitation so politely

The house of the Judge was close by; it was a wellappointed bachelor's establishment, with a curious

collection of old brass warmingpans upon the walls. Some of these were most elaborately carved. It seemed

a picturesque idea for a collector. You could not help thinking how many nightcaps had wagged over these

warmingpans in past generations; what jests may have been made, and kisses taken, while they were in

service; and how often they had been uselessly paraded in the bed of death. If they could only speak, at what

The wine was excellent. When we made the Judge our compliments upon a bottle, 'I do not give it you as my

worst,' said he. I wonder when Englishmen will learn these hospitable graces. They are worth learning; they

There were two other Landrecienses present. One was the collector of something or other, I forget what; the

other, we were told, was the principal notary of the place. So it happened that we all five more or less

followed the law. At this rate, the talk was pretty certain to become technical. The CIGARETTE expounded

the Poor Laws very magisterially. And a little later I found myself laying down the Scots Law of Illegitimacy,

of which I am glad to say I know nothing. The collector and the notary, who were both married men, accused

the Judge, who was a bachelor, of having started the subject. He deprecated the charge, with a conscious,

pleased air, just like all the men I have ever seen, be they French or English. How strange that we should all,

in our unguarded moments, rather like to be thought a bit of a rogue with the women!

As the evening went on, the wine grew more to my taste; the spirits proved better than the wine; the company

was genial. This was the highest water mark of popular favour on the whole cruise. After all, being in a

Judge's house, was there not something semi official in the tribute? And so, remembering what a great

country France is, we did full justice to our entertainment. Landrecies had been a long while asleep before we

returned to the hotel; and the sentries on the ramparts were already looking for daybreak.

NEXT day we made a late start in the rain. The Judge politely escorted us to the end of the lock under an

umbrella. We had now brought ourselves to a pitch of humility in the matter of weather, not often attained

except in the Scottish Highlands. A rag of blue sky or a glimpse of sunshine set our hearts singing; and when

Long lines of barges lay one after another along the canal; many of them looking mighty spruce and

shipshape in their jerkin of Archangel tar picked out with white and green. Some carried gay iron railings,

and quite a parterre of flowerpots. Children played on the decks, as heedless of the rain as if they had been

brought up on Loch Carron side; men fished over the gunwale, some of them under umbrellas; women did

their washing; and every barge boasted its mongrel cur by way of watchdog. Each one barked furiously at

the canoes, running alongside until he had got to the end of his own ship, and so passing on the word to the

dog aboard the next. We must have seen something like a hundred of these embarkations in the course of that

day's paddle, ranged one after another like the houses in a street; and from not one of them were we

disappointed of this accompaniment. It was like visiting a menagerie, the CIGARETTE remarked.

These little cities by the canal side had a very odd effect upon the mind. They seemed, with their flowerpots

and smoking chimneys, their washings and dinners, a rooted piece of nature in the scene; and yet if only the

canal below were to open, one junk after another would hoist sail or harness horses and swim away into all

parts of France; and the impromptu hamlet would separate, house by house, to the four winds. The children

who played together to day by the Sambre and Oise Canal, each at his own father's threshold, when and

For some time past the subject of barges had occupied a great deal of our talk, and we had projected an old

age on the canals of Europe. It was to be the most leisurely of progresses, now on a swift river at the tail of a

steamboat, now waiting horses for days together on some inconsiderable junction. We should be seen

pottering on deck in all the dignity of years, our white beards falling into our laps. We were ever to be busied

among paintpots; so that there should be no white fresher, and no green more emerald than ours, in all the

navy of the canals. There should be books in the cabin, and tobaccojars, and some old Burgundy as red as a

November sunset and as odorous as a violet in April. There should be a flageolet, whence the CIGARETTE,

with cunning touch, should draw melting music under the stars; or perhaps, laying that aside, upraise his

voice somewhat thinner than of yore, and with here and there a quaver, or call it a natural gracenote in

All this, simmering in my mind, set me wishing to go aboard one of these ideal houses of lounging. I had

plenty to choose from, as I coasted one after another, and the dogs bayed at me for a vagrant. At last I saw a

nice old man and his wife looking at me with some interest, so I gave them goodday and pulled up

alongside. I began with a remark upon their dog, which had somewhat the look of a pointer; thence I slid into

a compliment on Madame's flowers, and thence into a word in praise of their way of life.

If you ventured on such an experiment in England you would get a slap in the face at once. The life would be

shown to be a vile one, not without a side shot at your better fortune. Now, what I like so much in France is

the clear unflinching recognition by everybody of his own luck. They all know on which side their bread is

buttered, and take a pleasure in showing it to others, which is surely the better part of religion. And they scorn

to make a poor mouth over their poverty, which I take to be the better part of manliness. I have heard a

woman in quite a better position at home, with a good bit of money in hand, refer to her own child with a

horrid whine as 'a poor man's child.' I would not say such a thing to the Duke of Westminster. And the French

are full of this spirit of independence. Perhaps it is the result of republican institutions, as they call them.

Much more likely it is because there are so few people really poor, that the whiners are not enough to keep

The people on the barge were delighted to hear that I admired their state. They understood perfectly well,

they told me, how Monsieur envied them. Without doubt Monsieur was rich; and in that case he might make

a canal boat as pretty as a villa JOLI COMME UN CHATEAU. And with that they invited me on board

their own water villa. They apologised for their cabin; they had not been rich enough to make it as it ought to

'The fire should have been here, at this side.' explained the husband. 'Then one might have a writingtable in

the middle books and' (comprehensively) 'all. It would be quite coquettish CA SERAIT

TOUTAFAIT COQUET.' And he looked about him as though the improvements were already made. It

was plainly not the first time that he had thus beautified his cabin in imagination; and when next he makes a

Madame had three birds in a cage. They were no great thing, she explained. Fine birds were so dear. They

had sought to get a HOLLANDAIS last winter in Rouen (Rouen? thought I; and is this whole mansion, with

its dogs and birds and smoking chimneys, so far a traveller as that? and as homely an object among the cliffs

and orchards of the Seine as on the green plains of Sambre?) they had sought to get a HOLLANDAIS last

winter in Rouen; but these cost fifteen francs apiece picture it fifteen francs!

As I continued to admire, the apologetics died away, and the good people began to brag of their barge, and

their happy condition in life, as if they had been Emperor and Empress of the Indies. It was, in the Scots

phrase, a good hearing, and put me in good humour with the world. If people knew what an inspiriting thing

it is to hear a man boasting, so long as he boasts of what he really has, I believe they would do it more freely

They began to ask about our voyage. You should have seen how they sympathised. They seemed half ready

to give up their barge and follow us. But these CANALETTI are only gypsies semidomesticated. The

semidomestication came out in rather a pretty form. Suddenly Madam's brow darkened. 'CEPENDANT,'

she began, and then stopped; and then began again by asking me if I were single?

O then all was well. She could not have wives left alone at home; but since there were no wives in the

'To see about one in the world,' said the husband, 'IL N'Y A QUE CA there is nothing else worth while. A

man, look you, who sticks in his own village like a bear,' he went on, ' very well, he sees nothing. And then

Madame reminded her husband of an Englishman who had come up this canal in a steamer.

'That's it,' assented the husband. 'He had his wife and family with him, and servants. He came ashore at all the

locks and asked the name of the villages, whether from boatmen or lockkeepers; and then he wrote, wrote

A wager was a common enough explanation for our own exploits, but it seemed an original reason for taking

BEFORE nine next morning the two canoes were installed on a light country cart at Etreux: and we were

soon following them along the side of a pleasant valley full of hopgardens and poplars. Agreeable villages

lay here and there on the slope of the hill; notably, Tupigny, with the hoppoles hanging their garlands in the

very street, and the houses clustered with grapes. There was a faint enthusiasm on our passage; weavers put

their heads to the windows; children cried out in ecstasy at sight of the two 'boaties' BARGUETTES: and

bloused pedestrians, who were acquainted with our charioteer, jested with him on the nature of his freight.

We had a shower or two, but light and flying. The air was clean and sweet among all these green fields and

green things growing. There was not a touch of autumn in the weather. And when, at Vadencourt, we

launched from a little lawn opposite a mill, the sun broke forth and set all the leaves shining in the valley of

The river was swollen with the long rains. From Vadencourt all the way to Origny, it ran with

everquickening speed, taking fresh heart at each mile, and racing as though it already smelt the sea. The

water was yellow and turbulent, swung with an angry eddy among halfsubmerged willows, and made an

angry clatter along stony shores. The course kept turning and turning in a narrow and well timbered valley.

Now the river would approach the side, and run griding along the chalky base of the hill, and show us a few

open colzafields among the trees. Now it would skirt the gardenwalls of houses, where we might catch a

glimpse through a doorway, and see a priest pacing in the chequered sunlight. Again, the foliage closed so

thickly in front, that there seemed to be no issue; only a thicket of willows, overtopped by elms and poplars,

under which the river ran flush and fleet, and where a kingfisher flew past like a piece of the blue sky. On

these different manifestations the sun poured its clear and catholic looks. The shadows lay as solid on the

swift surface of the stream as on the stable meadows. The light sparkled golden in the dancing poplar leaves,

and brought the hills into communion with our eyes. And all the while the river never stopped running or

took breath; and the reeds along the whole valley stood shivering from top to toe.

There should be some myth (but if there is, I know it not) founded on the shivering of the reeds. There are not

many things in nature more striking to man's eye. It is such an eloquent pantomime of terror; and to see such

a number of terrified creatures taking sanctuary in every nook along the shore, is enough to infect a silly

human with alarm. Perhaps they are only acold, and no wonder, standing waistdeep in the stream. Or

perhaps they have never got accustomed to the speed and fury of the river's flux, or the miracle of its

continuous body. Pan once played upon their forefathers; and so, by the hands of his river, he still plays upon

these later generations down all the valley of the Oise; and plays the same air, both sweet and shrill, to tell us

The canoe was like a leaf in the current. It took it up and shook it, and carried it masterfully away, like a

Centaur carrying off a nymph. To keep some command on our direction required hard and diligent plying of

the paddle. The river was in such a hurry for the sea! Every drop of water ran in a panic, like as many people

in a frightened crowd. But what crowd was ever so numerous, or so singleminded? All the objects of sight

went by at a dance measure; the eyesight raced with the racing river; the exigencies of every moment kept the

pegs screwed so tight, that our being quivered like a welltuned instrument; and the blood shook off its

lethargy, and trotted through all the highways and byways of the veins and arteries, and in and out of the

heart, as if circulation were but a holiday journey, and not the daily moil of threescore years and ten. The

reeds might nod their heads in warning, and with tremulous gestures tell how the river was as cruel as it was

strong and cold, and how death lurked in the eddy underneath the willows. But the reeds had to stand where

they were; and those who stand still are always timid advisers. As for us, we could have shouted aloud. If this

lively and beautiful river were, indeed, a thing of death's contrivance, the old ashen rogue had famously

outwitted himself with us. I was living three to the minute. I was scoring points against him every stroke of

my paddle, every turn of the stream. I have rarely had better profit of my life.

For I think we may look upon our little private war with death somewhat in this light. If a man knows he will

sooner or later be robbed upon a journey, he will have a bottle of the best in every inn, and look upon all his

extravagances as so much gained upon the thieves. And above all, where instead of simply spending, he

makes a profitable investment for some of his money, when it will be out of risk of loss. So every bit of brisk

living, and above all when it is healthful, is just so much gained upon the wholesale filcher, death. We shall

have the less in our pockets, the more in our stomach, when he cries stand and deliver. A swift stream is a

favourite artifice of his, and one that brings him in a comfortable thing per annum; but when he and I come to

settle our accounts, I shall whistle in his face for these hours upon the upper Oise.

Towards afternoon we got fairly drunken with the sunshine and the exhilaration of the pace. We could no

longer contain ourselves and our content. The canoes were too small for us; we must be out and stretch

ourselves on shore. And so in a green meadow we bestowed our limbs on the grass, and smoked deifying

tobacco and proclaimed the world excellent. It was the last good hour of the day, and I dwell upon it with

On one side of the valley, high up on the chalky summit of the hill, a ploughman with his team appeared and

disappeared at regular intervals. At each revelation he stood still for a few seconds against the sky: for all the

world (as the CIGARETTE declared) like a toy Burns who should have just ploughed up the Mountain Daisy.

On the other side of the valley a group of red roofs and a belfry showed among the foliage. Thence some

inspired bellringer made the afternoon musical on a chime of bells. There was something very sweet and

taking in the air he played; and we thought we had never heard bells speak so intelligibly, or sing so

melodiously, as these. It must have been to some such measure that the spinners and the young maids sang,

'Come away, Death,' in the Shakespearian Illyria. There is so often a threatening note, something blatant and

metallic, in the voice of bells, that I believe we have fully more pain than pleasure from hearing them; but

these, as they sounded abroad, now high, now low, now with a plaintive cadence that caught the ear like the

burthen of a popular song, were always moderate and tunable, and seemed to fall in with the spirit of still,

rustic places, like the noise of a waterfall or the babble of a rookery in spring. I could have asked the

bellringer for his blessing, good, sedate old man, who swung the rope so gently to the time of his

meditations. I could have blessed the priest or the heritors, or whoever may be concerned with such affairs in

France, who had left these sweet old bells to gladden the afternoon, and not held meetings, and made

collections, and had their names repeatedly printed in the local paper, to rig up a peal of brand new, brazen,

Birminghamhearted substitutes, who should bombard their sides to the provocation of a brandnew

At last the bells ceased, and with their note the sun withdrew. The piece was at an end; shadow and silence

possessed the valley of the Oise. We took to the paddle with glad hearts, like people who have sat out a noble

performance and returned to work. The river was more dangerous here; it ran swifter, the eddies were more

sudden and violent. All the way down we had had our fill of difficulties. Sometimes it was a weir which

could be shot, sometimes one so shallow and full of stakes that we must withdraw the boats from the water

and carry them round. But the chief sort of obstacle was a consequence of the late high winds. Every two or

three hundred yards a tree had fallen across the river, and usually involved more than another in its fall.

Often there was free water at the end, and we could steer round the leafy promontory and hear the water

sucking and bubbling among the twigs. Often, again, when the tree reached from bank to bank, there was

room, by lying close, to shoot through underneath, canoe and all. Sometimes it was necessary to get out upon

the trunk itself and pull the boats across; and sometimes, when the stream was too impetuous for this, there

was nothing for it but to land and 'carry over.' This made a fine series of accidents in the day's career, and

Shortly after our reembarkation, while I was leading by a long way, and still full of a noble, exulting spirit

in honour of the sun, the swift pace, and the church bells, the river made one of its leonine pounces round a

corner, and I was aware of another fallen tree within a stonecast. I had my backboard down in a trice, and

aimed for a place where the trunk seemed high enough above the water, and the branches not too thick to let

me slip below. When a man has just vowed eternal brotherhood with the universe, he is not in a temper to

take great determinations coolly, and this, which might have been a very important determination for me, had

not been taken under a happy star. The tree caught me about the chest, and while I was yet struggling to make

less of myself and get through, the river took the matter out of my hands, and bereaved me of my boat. The

ARETHUSA swung round broadside on, leaned over, ejected so much of me as still remained on board, and

thus disencumbered, whipped under the tree, righted, and went merrily away down stream.

I do not know how long it was before I scrambled on to the tree to which I was left clinging, but it was longer

than I cared about. My thoughts were of a grave and almost sombre character, but I still clung to my paddle.

The stream ran away with my heels as fast as I could pull up my shoulders, and I seemed, by the weight, to

have all the water of the Oise in my trouserspockets. You can never know, till you try it, what a dead pull a

river makes against a man. Death himself had me by the heels, for this was his last ambuscado, and he must

now join personally in the fray. And still I held to my paddle. At last I dragged myself on to my stomach on

the trunk, and lay there a breathless sop, with a mingled sense of humour and injustice. A poor figure I must

have presented to Burns upon the hilltop with his team. But there was the paddle in my hand. On my tomb,

if ever I have one, I mean to get these words inscribed: 'He clung to his paddle.'

The CIGARETTE had gone past a while before; for, as I might have observed, if I had been a little less

pleased with the universe at the moment, there was a clear way round the treetop at the farther side. He had

offered his services to haul me out, but as I was then already on my elbows, I had declined, and sent him

down stream after the truant ARETHUSA. The stream was too rapid for a man to mount with one canoe, let

alone two, upon his hands. So I crawled along the trunk to shore, and proceeded down the meadows by the

riverside. I was so cold that my heart was sore. I had now an idea of my own why the reeds so bitterly

shivered. I could have given any of them a lesson. The CIGARETTE remarked facetiously that he thought I

was 'taking exercise' as I drew near, until he made out for certain that I was only twittering with cold. I had a

rub down with a towel, and donned a dry suit from the indiarubber bag. But I was not my own man again

for the rest of the voyage. I had a queasy sense that I wore my last dry clothes upon my body. The struggle

had tired me; and perhaps, whether I knew it or not, I was a little dashed in spirit. The devouring element in

the universe had leaped out against me, in this green valley quickened by a running stream. The bells were all

very pretty in their way, but I had heard some of the hollow notes of Pan's music. Would the wicked river

drag me down by the heels, indeed? and look so beautiful all the time? Nature's goodhumour was only

There was still a long way to go by the winding course of the stream, and darkness had fallen, and a late bell

THE next day was Sunday, and the church bells had little rest; indeed, I do not think I remember anywhere

else so great a choice of services as were here offered to the devout. And while the bells made merry in the

sunshine, all the world with his dog was out shooting among the beets and colza.

In the morning a hawker and his wife went down the street at a footpace, singing to a very slow, lamentable

music 'O FRANCE, MES AMOURS.' It brought everybody to the door; and when our landlady called in the

man to buy the words, he had not a copy of them left. She was not the first nor the second who had been

taken with the song. There is something very pathetic in the love of the French people, since the war, for

dismal patriotic musicmaking. I have watched a forester from Alsace while some one was singing 'LES

MALHEURS DE LA FRANCE,' at a baptismal party in the neighbourhood of Fontainebleau. He arose from

the table and took his son aside, close by where I was standing. 'Listen, listen,' he said, bearing on the boy's

shoulder, 'and remember this, my son.' A little after he went out into the garden suddenly, and I could hear

The humiliation of their arms and the loss of Alsace and Lorraine made a sore pull on the endurance of this

sensitive people; and their hearts are still hot, not so much against Germany as against the Empire. In what

other country will you find a patriotic ditty bring all the world into the street? But affliction heightens love;

and we shall never know we are Englishmen until we have lost India. Independent America is still the cross

of my existence; I cannot think of Farmer George without abhorrence; and I never feel more warmly to my

own land than when I see the Stars and Stripes, and remember what our empire might have been.

The hawker's little book, which I purchased, was a curious mixture. Side by side with the flippant, rowdy

nonsense of the Paris music halls, there were many pastoral pieces, not without a touch of poetry, I thought,

and instinct with the brave independence of the poorer class in France. There you might read how the

woodcutter gloried in his axe, and the gardener scorned to be ashamed of his spade. It was not very well

written, this poetry of labour, but the pluck of the sentiment redeemed what was weak or wordy in the

expression. The martial and the patriotic pieces, on the other hand, were tearful, womanish productions one

and all. The poet had passed under the Caudine Forks; he sang for an army visiting the tomb of its old

renown, with arms reversed; and sang not of victory, but of death. There was a number in the hawker's

collection called 'Conscrits Francais,' which may rank among the most dissuasive warlyrics on record. It

would not be possible to fight at all in such a spirit. The bravest conscript would turn pale if such a ditty were

struck up beside him on the morning of battle; and whole regiments would pile their arms to its tune.

If Fletcher of Saltoun is in the right about the influence of national songs, you would say France was come to

a poor pass. But the thing will work its own cure, and a soundhearted and courageous people weary at

length of snivelling over their disasters. Already Paul Deroulede has written some manly military verses.

There is not much of the trumpet note in them, perhaps, to stir a man's heart in his bosom; they lack the

lyrical elation, and move slowly; but they are written in a grave, honourable, stoical spirit, which should carry

soldiers far in a good cause. One feels as if one would like to trust Deroulede with something. It will be

happy if he can so far inoculate his fellowcountrymen that they may be trusted with their own future. And in

the meantime, here is an antidote to 'French Conscripts' and much other doleful versification.

We had left the boats overnight in the custody of one whom we shall call Carnival. I did not properly catch

his name, and perhaps that was not unfortunate for him, as I am not in a position to hand him down with

honour to posterity. To this person's premises we strolled in the course of the day, and found quite a little

deputation inspecting the canoes. There was a stout gentleman with a knowledge of the river, which he

seemed eager to impart. There was a very elegant young gentleman in a black coat, with a smattering of

English, who led the talk at once to the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race. And then there were three

handsome girls from fifteen to twenty; and an old gentleman in a blouse, with no teeth to speak of, and a

The CIGARETTE had some mysteries to perform with his rigging in the coachhouse; so I was left to do the

parade singlehanded. I found myself very much of a hero whether I would or not. The girls were full of little

shudderings over the dangers of our journey. And I thought it would be ungallant not to take my cue from the

ladies. My mishap of yesterday, told in an offhand way, produced a deep sensation. It was Othello over

again, with no less than three Desdemonas and a sprinkling of sympathetic senators in the background. Never

'I thank you for the word, mademoiselle,' said I. 'All the more since there are people who call out to me that it

'Oh! but it is really like a violin. It is finished like a violin,' she went on.

'One has only to stretch the cords,' concluded another, 'and then tumtumtytum' he imitated the result with

Was not this a graceful little ovation? Where this people finds the secret of its pretty speeches, I cannot

imagine; unless the secret should be no other than a sincere desire to please? But then no disgrace is attached

in France to saying a thing neatly; whereas in England, to talk like a book is to give in one's resignation to

The old gentleman in the blouse stole into the coachhouse, and somewhat irrelevantly informed the

CIGARETTE that he was the father of the three girls and four more: quite an exploit for a Frenchman.

We all got very friendly together. The girls proposed to start with us on the morrow, if you please! And,

jesting apart, every one was anxious to know the hour of our departure. Now, when you are going to crawl

into your canoe from a bad launch, a crowd, however friendly, is undesirable; and so we told them not before

Towards evening, we went abroad again to post some letters. It was cool and pleasant; the long village was

quite empty, except for one or two urchins who followed us as they might have followed a menagerie; the

hills and the treetops looked in from all sides through the clear air; and the bells were chiming for yet

Suddenly we sighted the three girls standing, with a fourth sister, in front of a shop on the wide selvage of the

roadway. We had been very merry with them a little while ago, to be sure. But what was the etiquette of

Origny? Had it been a country road, of course we should have spoken to them; but here, under the eyes of all

I looked. There were the four girls on the same spot; but now four backs were turned to us, very upright and

conscious. Corporal Modesty had given the word of command, and the welldisciplined picket had gone

rightaboutface like a single person. They maintained this formation all the while we were in sight; but we

heard them tittering among themselves, and the girl whom we had not met laughed with open mouth, and

even looked over her shoulder at the enemy. I wonder was it altogether modesty after all? or in part a sort of

As we were returning to the inn, we beheld something floating in the ample field of golden evening sky,

above the chalk cliffs and the trees that grow along their summit. It was too high up, too large, and too steady

for a kite; and as it was dark, it could not be a star. For although a star were as black as ink and as rugged as a

walnut, so amply does the sun bathe heaven with radiance, that it would sparkle like a point of light for us.

The village was dotted with people with their heads in air; and the children were in a bustle all along the

street and far up the straight road that climbs the hill, where we could still see them running in loose knots. It

was a balloon, we learned, which had left Saint Quentin at halfpast five that evening. Mighty composedly

the majority of the grown people took it. But we were English, and were soon running up the hill with the

best. Being travellers ourselves in a small way, we would fain have seen these other travellers alight.

The spectacle was over by the time we gained the top of the hill. All the gold had withered out of the sky, and

the balloon had disappeared. Whither? I ask myself; caught up into the seventh heaven? or come safely to

land somewhere in that blue uneven distance, into which the roadway dipped and melted before our eyes?

Probably the aeronauts were already warming themselves at a farm chimney, for they say it is cold in these

unhomely regions of the air. The night fell swiftly. Roadside trees and disappointed sightseers, returning

through the meadows, stood out in black against a margin of low red sunset. It was cheerfuller to face the

other way, and so down the hill we went, with a full moon, the colour of a melon, swinging high above the

wooded valley, and the white cliffs behind us faintly reddened by the fire of the chalk kilns.

The lamps were lighted, and the salads were being made in Origny SainteBenoite by the river.

ALTHOUGH we came late for dinner, the company at table treated us to sparkling wine. 'That is how we are

in France,' said one. 'Those who sit down with us are our friends.' And the rest applauded.

Two of them were guests like ourselves, both men of the north. One ruddy, and of a full habit of body, with

copious black hair and beard, the intrepid hunter of France, who thought nothing so small, not even a lark or a

minnow, but he might vindicate his prowess by its capture. For such a great, healthy man, his hair flourishing

like Samson's, his arteries running buckets of red blood, to boast of these infinitesimal exploits, produced a

feeling of disproportion in the world, as when a steamhammer is set to cracking nuts. The other was a quiet,

subdued person, blond and lymphatic and sad, with something the look of a Dane: 'TRISTES TETES DE

I must not let that name go by without a word for the best of all good fellows now gone down into the dust.

We shall never again see Gaston in his forest costume he was Gaston with all the world, in affection, not in

disrespect nor hear him wake the echoes of Fontainebleau with the woodland horn. Never again shall his

kind smile put peace among all races of artistic men, and make the Englishman at home in France. Never

more shall the sheep, who were not more innocent at heart than he, sit all unconsciously for his industrious

pencil. He died too early, at the very moment when he was beginning to put forth fresh sprouts, and blossom

into something worthy of himself; and yet none who knew him will think he lived in vain. I never knew a

man so little, for whom yet I had so much affection; and I find it a good test of others, how much they had

learned to understand and value him. His was indeed a good influence in life while he was still among us; he

had a fresh laugh, it did you good to see him; and however sad he may have been at heart, he always bore a

bold and cheerful countenance, and took fortune's worst as it were the showers of spring. But now his mother

sits alone by the side of Fontainebleau woods, where he gathered mushrooms in his hardy and penurious

Many of his pictures found their way across the Channel: besides those which were stolen, when a dastardly

Yankee left him alone in London with two English pence, and perhaps twice as many words of English. If

any one who reads these lines should have a scene of sheep, in the manner of Jacques, with this fine creature's

signature, let him tell himself that one of the kindest and bravest of men has lent a hand to decorate his

lodging. There may be better pictures in the National Gallery; but not a painter among the generations had a

better heart. Precious in the sight of the Lord of humanity, the Psalms tell us, is the death of his saints. It had

need to be precious; for it is very costly, when by the stroke, a mother is left desolate, and the peacemaker,

and PEACE LOOKER, of a whole society is laid in the ground with Caesar and the Twelve Apostles.

There is something lacking among the oaks of Fontainebleau; and when the dessert comes in at Barbizon,

The third of our companions at Origny was no less a person than the landlady's husband: not properly the

landlord, since he worked himself in a factory during the day, and came to his own house at evening as a

guest: a man worn to skin and bone by perpetual excitement, with baldish head, sharp features, and swift,

shining eyes. On Saturday, describing some paltry adventure at a duck hunt, he broke a plate into a score of

fragments. Whenever he made a remark, he would look all round the table with his chin raised, and a spark of

green light in either eye, seeking approval. His wife appeared now and again in the doorway of the room,

where she was superintending dinner, with a 'Henri, you forget yourself,' or a 'Henri, you can surely talk

without making such a noise.' Indeed, that was what the honest fellow could not do. On the most trifling

matter his eyes kindled, his fist visited the table, and his voice rolled abroad in changeful thunder. I never saw

such a petard of a man; I think the devil was in him. He had two favourite expressions: 'it is logical,' or

illogical, as the case might be: and this other, thrown out with a certain bravado, as a man might unfurl a

banner, at the beginning of many a long and sonorous story: 'I am a proletarian, you see.' Indeed, we saw it

very well. God forbid that ever I should find him handling a gun in Paris streets! That will not be a good

I thought his two phrases very much represented the good and evil of his class, and to some extent of his

country. It is a strong thing to say what one is, and not be ashamed of it; even although it be in doubtful taste

to repeat the statement too often in one evening. I should not admire it in a duke, of course; but as times go,

the trait is honourable in a workman. On the other hand, it is not at all a strong thing to put one's reliance

upon logic; and our own logic particularly, for it is generally wrong. We never know where we are to end, if

once we begin following words or doctors. There is an upright stock in a man's own heart, that is trustier than

any syllogism; and the eyes, and the sympathies and appetites, know a thing or two that have never yet been

stated in controversy. Reasons are as plentiful as blackberries; and, like fisticuffs, they serve impartially with

all sides. Doctrines do not stand or fall by their proofs, and are only logical in so far as they are cleverly put.

An able controversialist no more than an able general demonstrates the justice of his cause. But France is all

gone wandering after one or two big words; it will take some time before they can be satisfied that they are

no more than words, however big; and when once that is done, they will perhaps find logic less diverting.

The conversation opened with details of the day's shooting. When all the sportsmen of a village shoot over

the village territory PRO INDIVISO, it is plain that many questions of etiquette and priority must arise.

'Here now,' cried the landlord, brandishing a plate, 'here is a field of beetroot. Well. Here am I then. I

advance, do I not? EH BIEN! SACRISTI,' and the statement, waxing louder, rolls off into a reverberation of

oaths, the speaker glaring about for sympathy, and everybody nodding his head to him in the name of peace.

The ruddy Northman told some tales of his own prowess in keeping order: notably one of a Marquis.

'Marquis,' I said, 'if you take another step I fire upon you. You have committed a dirtiness, Marquis.'

The landlord applauded noisily. 'It was well done,' he said. 'He did all that he could. He admitted he was

wrong.' And then oath upon oath. He was no marquislover either, but he had a sense of justice in him, this

From the matter of hunting, the talk veered into a general comparison of Paris and the country. The

proletarian beat the table like a drum in praise of Paris. 'What is Paris? Paris is the cream of France. There are

no Parisians: it is you and I and everybody who are Parisians. A man has eighty chances per cent. to get on in

the world in Paris.' And he drew a vivid sketch of the workman in a den no bigger than a doghutch, making

articles that were to go all over the world. 'EH BIEN, QUOI, C'EST MAGNIFIQUE, CA!' cried he.

The sad Northman interfered in praise of a peasant's life; he thought Paris bad for men and women;

But the landlord was at his throat in a moment. It was all logical, he showed him; and all magnificent. 'What a

spectacle! What a glance for an eye!' And the dishes reeled upon the table under a cannonade of blows.

Seeking to make peace, I threw in a word in praise of the liberty of opinion in France. I could hardly have

shot more amiss. There was an instant silence, and a great wagging of significant heads. They did not fancy

the subject, it was plain; but they gave me to understand that the sad Northman was a martyr on account of

'Yes, sir,' said he in his quiet way, answering me, although I had not spoken, 'I am afraid there is less liberty

of opinion in France than you may imagine.' And with that he dropped his eyes, and seemed to consider the

Our curiosity was mightily excited at this. How, or why, or when, was this lymphatic bagman martyred? We

concluded at once it was on some religious question, and brushed up our memories of the Inquisition, which

were principally drawn from Poe's horrid story, and the sermon in TRISTRAM SHANDY, I believe.

On the morrow we had an opportunity of going further into the question; for when we rose very early to

avoid a sympathising deputation at our departure, we found the hero up before us. He was breaking his fast

on white wine and raw onions, in order to keep up the character of martyr, I conclude. We had a long

conversation, and made out what we wanted in spite of his reserve. But here was a truly curious

circumstance. It seems possible for two Scotsmen and a Frenchman to discuss during a long halfhour, and

each nationality have a different idea in view throughout. It was not till the very end that we discovered his

heresy had been political, or that he suspected our mistake. The terms and spirit in which he spoke of his

political beliefs were, in our eyes, suited to religious beliefs. And VICE VERSA.

Nothing could be more characteristic of the two countries. Politics are the religion of France; as Nanty Ewart

would have said, 'A dd bad religion'; while we, at home, keep most of our bitterness for little differences

about a hymnbook, or a Hebrew word which perhaps neither of the parties can translate. And perhaps the

misconception is typical of many others that may never be cleared up: not only between people of different

As for our friend's martyrdom, he was a Communist, or perhaps only a Communard, which is a very different

thing; and had lost one or more situations in consequence. I think he had also been rejected in marriage; but

perhaps he had a sentimental way of considering business which deceived me. He was a mild, gentle creature,

anyway; and I hope he has got a better situation, and married a more suitable wife since then.

CARNIVAL notoriously cheated us at first. Finding us easy in our ways, he regretted having let us off so

cheaply; and taking me aside, told me a cockandbull story with the moral of another five francs for the

narrator. The thing was palpably absurd; but I paid up, and at once dropped all friendliness of manner, and

kept him in his place as an inferior with freezing British dignity. He saw in a moment that he had gone too

far, and killed a willing horse; his face fell; I am sure he would have refunded if he could only have thought

of a decent pretext. He wished me to drink with him, but I would none of his drinks. He grew pathetically

tender in his professions; but I walked beside him in silence or answered him in stately courtesies; and when

In spite of the false scent we had thrown out the day before, there must have been fifty people about the

bridge. We were as pleasant as we could be with all but Carnival. We said goodbye, shaking hands with the

old gentleman who knew the river and the young gentleman who had a smattering of English; but never a

word for Carnival. Poor Carnival! here was a humiliation. He who had been so much identified with the

canoes, who had given orders in our name, who had shown off the boats and even the boatmen like a private

exhibition of his own, to be now so publicly shamed by the lions of his caravan! I never saw anybody look

more crestfallen than he. He hung in the background, coming timidly forward ever and again as he thought he

saw some symptom of a relenting humour, and falling hurriedly back when he encountered a cold stare. Let

I would not have mentioned Carnival's peccadillo had not the thing been so uncommon in France. This, for

instance, was the only case of dishonesty or even sharp practice in our whole voyage. We talk very much

about our honesty in England. It is a good rule to be on your guard wherever you hear great professions about

a very little piece of virtue. If the English could only hear how they are spoken of abroad, they might confine

themselves for a while to remedying the fact; and perhaps even when that was done, give us fewer of their

The young ladies, the graces of Origny, were not present at our start, but when we got round to the second

bridge, behold, it was black with sightseers! We were loudly cheered, and for a good way below, young lads

and lasses ran along the bank still cheering. What with current and paddling, we were flashing along like

swallows. It was no joke to keep up with us upon the woody shore. But the girls picked up their skirts, as if

they were sure they had good ankles, and followed until their breath was out. The last to weary were the three

graces and a couple of companions; and just as they too had had enough, the foremost of the three leaped

upon a treestump and kissed her hand to the canoeists. Not Diana herself, although this was more of a

Venus after all, could have done a graceful thing more gracefully. 'Come back again!' she cried; and all the

others echoed her; and the hills about Origny repeated the words, 'Come back.' But the river had us round an

Come back? There is no coming back, young ladies, on the impetuous stream of life.

'The merchant bows unto the seaman's star, The ploughman from the sun his season takes.'

And we must all set our pocketwatches by the clock of fate. There is a headlong, forthright tide, that bears

away man with his fancies like a straw, and runs fast in time and space. It is full of curves like this, your

winding river of the Oise; and lingers and returns in pleasant pastorals; and yet, rightly thought upon, never

returns at all. For though it should revisit the same acre of meadow in the same hour, it will have made an

ample sweep betweenwhiles; many little streams will have fallen in; many exhalations risen towards the

sun; and even although it were the same acre, it will no more be the same river of Oise. And thus, O graces of

Origny, although the wandering fortune of my life should carry me back again to where you await death's

whistle by the river, that will not be the old I who walks the street; and those wives and mothers, say, will

There was never any mistake about the Oise, as a matter of fact. In these upper reaches it was still in a

prodigious hurry for the sea. It ran so fast and merrily, through all the windings of its channel, that I strained

my thumb, fighting with the rapids, and had to paddle all the rest of the way with one hand turned up.

Sometimes it had to serve mills; and being still a little river, ran very dry and shallow in the meanwhile. We

had to put our legs out of the boat, and shove ourselves off the sand of the bottom with our feet. And still it

went on its way singing among the poplars, and making a green valley in the world. After a good woman, and

a good book, and tobacco, there is nothing so agreeable on earth as a river. I forgave it its attempt on my life;

which was after all one part owing to the unruly winds of heaven that had blown down the tree, one part to

my own mismanagement, and only a third part to the river itself, and that not out of malice, but from its great

preoccupation over its business of getting to the sea. A difficult business, too; for the detours it had to make

are not to be counted. The geographers seem to have given up the attempt; for I found no map represent the

infinite contortion of its course. A fact will say more than any of them. After we had been some hours, three

if I mistake not, flitting by the trees at this smooth, breakneck gallop, when we came upon a hamlet and

asked where we were, we had got no farther than four kilometres (say two miles and a half) from Origny. If it

were not for the honour of the thing (in the Scots saying), we might almost as well have been standing still.

We lunched on a meadow inside a parallelogram of poplars. The leaves danced and prattled in the wind all

round about us. The river hurried on meanwhile, and seemed to chide at our delay. Little we cared. The river

knew where it was going; not so we: the less our hurry, where we found good quarters and a pleasant theatre

for a pipe. At that hour, stockbrokers were shouting in Paris Bourse for two or three per cent.; but we minded

them as little as the sliding stream, and sacrificed a hecatomb of minutes to the gods of tobacco and digestion.

Hurry is the resource of the faithless. Where a man can trust his own heart, and those of his friends,

tomorrow is as good as today. And if he die in the meanwhile, why then, there he dies, and the question is

We had to take to the canal in the course of the afternoon; because, where it crossed the river, there was, not a

bridge, but a siphon. If it had not been for an excited fellow on the bank, we should have paddled right into

the siphon, and thenceforward not paddled any more. We met a man, a gentleman, on the towpath, who was

much interested in our cruise. And I was witness to a strange seizure of lying suffered by the CIGARETTE:

who, because his knife came from Norway, narrated all sorts of adventures in that country, where he has

never been. He was quite feverish at the end, and pleaded demoniacal possession.

Moy (pronounce Moy) was a pleasant little village, gathered round a chateau in a moat. The air was perfumed

with hemp from neighbouring fields. At the Golden Sheep we found excellent entertainment. German shells

from the siege of La Fere, Nurnberg figures, goldfish in a bowl, and all manner of knickknacks,

embellished the public room. The landlady was a stout, plain, shortsighted, motherly body, with something

not far short of a genius for cookery. She had a guess of her excellence herself. After every dish was sent in,

she would come and look on at the dinner for a while, with puckered, blinking eyes. 'C'EST BON,

N'ESTCE PAS?' she would say; and when she had received a proper answer, she disappeared into the

kitchen. That common French dish, partridge and cabbages, became a new thing in my eyes at the Golden

Sheep; and many subsequent dinners have bitterly disappointed me in consequence. Sweet was our rest in the

WE lingered in Moy a good part of the day, for we were fond of being philosophical, and scorned long

journeys and early starts on principle. The place, moreover, invited to repose. People in elaborate shooting

costumes sallied from the chateau with guns and gamebags; and this was a pleasure in itself, to remain

behind while these elegant pleasureseekers took the first of the morning. In this way, all the world may be

an aristocrat, and play the duke among marquises, and the reigning monarch among dukes, if he will only

outvie them in tranquillity. An imperturbable demeanour comes from perfect patience. Quiet minds cannot be

perplexed or frightened, but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a

We made a very short day of it to La Fere; but the dusk was falling, and a small rain had begun before we

stowed the boats. La Fere is a fortified town in a plain, and has two belts of rampart. Between the first and the

second extends a region of waste land and cultivated patches. Here and there along the wayside were posters

forbidding trespass in the name of military engineering. At last, a second gateway admitted us to the town

itself. Lighted windows looked gladsome, whiffs of comfortable cookery came abroad upon the air. The town

was full of the military reserve, out for the French Autumn Manoeuvres, and the reservists walked speedily

and wore their formidable greatcoats. It was a fine night to be within doors over dinner, and hear the rain

The CIGARETTE and I could not sufficiently congratulate each other on the prospect, for we had been told

there was a capital inn at La Fere. Such a dinner as we were going to eat! such beds as we were to sleep in!

and all the while the rain raining on houseless folk over all the poplared countryside! It made our mouths

water. The inn bore the name of some woodland animal, stag, or hart, or hind, I forget which. But I shall

never forget how spacious and how eminently habitable it looked as we drew near. The carriage entry was

lighted up, not by intention, but from the mere superfluity of fire and candle in the house. A rattle of many

dishes came to our ears; we sighted a great field of tablecloth; the kitchen glowed like a forge and smelt like

Into this, the inmost shrine and physiological heart of a hostelry, with all its furnaces in action, and all its

dressers charged with viands, you are now to suppose us making our triumphal entry, a pair of damp

ragandbone men, each with a limp indiarubber bag upon his arm. I do not believe I have a sound view of

that kitchen; I saw it through a sort of glory: but it seemed to me crowded with the snowy caps of cookmen,

who all turned round from their saucepans and looked at us with surprise. There was no doubt about the

landlady, however: there she was, heading her army, a flushed, angry woman, full of affairs. Her I asked

politely too politely, thinks the CIGARETTE if we could have beds: she surveying us coldly from head to

'You will find beds in the suburb,' she remarked. 'We are too busy for the like of you.'

If we could make an entrance, change our clothes, and order a bottle of wine, I felt sure we could put things

right; so said I: 'If we cannot sleep, we may at least dine,' and was for depositing my bag.

What a terrible convulsion of nature was that which followed in the landlady's face! She made a run at us,

'Out with you out of the door!' she screeched. 'SORTEZ! SORTEZ! SORTEZ PAR LA PORTE!'

I do not know how it happened, but next moment we were out in the rain and darkness, and I was cursing

before the carriage entry like a disappointed mendicant. Where were the boating men of Belgium? where the

Judge and his good wines? and where the graces of Origny? Black, black was the night after the firelit

kitchen; but what was that to the blackness in our heart? This was not the first time that I have been refused a

lodging. Often and often have I planned what I should do if such a misadventure happened to me again. And

nothing is easier to plan. But to put in execution, with the heart boiling at the indignity? Try it; try it only

It is all very fine to talk about tramps and morality. Six hours of police surveillance (such as I have had), or

one brutal rejection from an inndoor, change your views upon the subject like a course of lectures. As long

as you keep in the upper regions, with all the world bowing to you as you go, social arrangements have a very

handsome air; but once get under the wheels, and you wish society were at the devil. I will give most

respectable men a fortnight of such a life, and then I will offer them twopence for what remains of their

For my part, when I was turned out of the Stag, or the Hind, or whatever it was, I would have set the temple

of Diana on fire, if it had been handy. There was no crime complete enough to express my disapproval of

human institutions. As for the CIGARETTE, I never knew a man so altered. 'We have been taken for pedlars

again,' said he. 'Good God, what it must be to be a pedlar in reality!' He particularised a complaint for every

joint in the landlady's body. Timon was a philanthropist alongside of him. And then, when he was at the top

of his maledictory bent, he would suddenly break away and begin whimperingly to commiserate the poor. 'I

hope to God,' he said, and I trust the prayer was answered, 'that I shall never be uncivil to a pedlar.' Was

this the imperturbable CIGARETTE? This, this was he. O change beyond report, thought, or belief!

Meantime the heaven wept upon our heads; and the windows grew brighter as the night increased in

darkness. We trudged in and out of La Fere streets; we saw shops, and private houses where people were

copiously dining; we saw stables where carters' nags had plenty of fodder and clean straw; we saw no end of

reservists, who were very sorry for themselves this wet night, I doubt not, and yearned for their country

homes; but had they not each man his place in La Fere barracks? And we, what had we?

There seemed to be no other inn in the whole town. People gave us directions, which we followed as best we

could, generally with the effect of bringing us out again upon the scene of our disgrace. We were very sad

people indeed by the time we had gone all over La Fere; and the CIGARETTE had already made up his mind

to lie under a poplar and sup off a loaf of bread. But right at the other end, the house next the towngate was

full of light and bustle. 'BAZIN, AUBERGISTE, LOGE A PIED,' was the sign. 'A LA CROIX DE MALTE.'

The room was full of noisy reservists drinking and smoking; and we were very glad indeed when the drums

and bugles began to go about the streets, and one and all had to snatch shakoes and be off for the barracks.

Bazin was a tall man, running to fat: softspoken, with a delicate, gentle face. We asked him to share our

wine; but he excused himself, having pledged reservists all day long. This was a very different type of the

workmaninnkeeper from the bawling disputatious fellow at Origny. He also loved Paris, where he had

worked as a decorative painter in his youth. There were such opportunities for selfinstruction there, he said.

And if any one has read Zola's description of the workman's marriageparty visiting the Louvre, they would

do well to have heard Bazin by way of antidote. He had delighted in the museums in his youth. 'One sees

there little miracles of work,' he said; 'that is what makes a good workman; it kindles a spark.' We asked him

how he managed in La Fere. 'I am married,' he said, 'and I have my pretty children. But frankly, it is no life at

all. From morning to night I pledge a pack of good enough fellows who know nothing.'

It faired as the night went on, and the moon came out of the clouds. We sat in front of the door, talking softly

with Bazin. At the guardhouse opposite, the guard was being for ever turned out, as trains of field artillery

kept clanking in out of the night, or patrols of horsemen trotted by in their cloaks. Madame Bazin came out

after a while; she was tired with her day's work, I suppose; and she nestled up to her husband and laid her

head upon his breast. He had his arm about her, and kept gently patting her on the shoulder. I think Bazin was

Little did the Bazins know how much they served us. We were charged for candles, for food and drink, and

for the beds we slept in. But there was nothing in the bill for the husband's pleasant talk; nor for the pretty

spectacle of their married life. And there was yet another item unchanged. For these people's politeness really

set us up again in our own esteem. We had a thirst for consideration; the sense of insult was still hot in our

How little we pay our way in life! Although we have our purses continually in our hand, the better part of

service goes still unrewarded. But I like to fancy that a grateful spirit gives as good as it gets. Perhaps the

Bazins knew how much I liked them? perhaps they also were healed of some slights by the thanks that I gave

BELOW La Fere the river runs through a piece of open pastoral country; green, opulent, loved by breeders;

called the Golden Valley. In wide sweeps, and with a swift and equable gallop, the ceaseless stream of water

visits and makes green the fields. Kine, and horses, and little humorous donkeys, browse together in the

meadows, and come down in troops to the riverside to drink. They make a strange feature in the landscape;

above all when they are startled, and you see them galloping to and fro with their incongruous forms and

faces. It gives a feeling as of great, unfenced pampas, and the herds of wandering nations. There were hills in

the distance upon either hand; and on one side, the river sometimes bordered on the wooded spurs of Coucy

The artillery were practising at La Fere; and soon the cannon of heaven joined in that loud play. Two

continents of cloud met and exchanged salvos overhead; while all round the horizon we could see sunshine

and clear air upon the hills. What with the guns and the thunder, the herds were all frightened in the Golden

Valley. We could see them tossing their heads, and running to and fro in timorous indecision; and when they

had made up their minds, and the donkey followed the horse, and the cow was after the donkey, we could

hear their hooves thundering abroad over the meadows. It had a martial sound, like cavalry charges. And

altogether, as far as the ears are concerned, we had a very rousing battlepiece performed for our amusement.

At last the guns and the thunder dropped off; the sun shone on the wet meadows; the air was scented with the

breath of rejoicing trees and grass; and the river kept unweariedly carrying us on at its best pace. There was a

manufacturing district about Chauny; and after that the banks grew so high that they hid the adjacent country,

and we could see nothing but clay sides, and one willow after another. Only, here and there, we passed by a

village or a ferry, and some wondering child upon the bank would stare after us until we turned the corner. I

Sun and shower alternated like day and night, making the hours longer by their variety. When the showers

were heavy, I could feel each drop striking through my jersey to my warm skin; and the accumulation of

small shocks put me nearly beside myself. I decided I should buy a mackintosh at Noyon. It is nothing to get

wet; but the misery of these individual pricks of cold all over my body at the same instant of time made me

flail the water with my paddle like a madman. The CIGARETTE was greatly amused by these ebullitions. It

All the time, the river stole away like a thief in straight places, or swung round corners with an eddy; the

willows nodded, and were undermined all day long; the clay banks tumbled in; the Oise, which had been so

many centuries making the Golden Valley, seemed to have changed its fancy, and be bent upon undoing its

performance. What a number of things a river does, by simply following Gravity in the innocence of its heart!

NOYON stands about a mile from the river, in a little plain surrounded by wooded hills, and entirely covers

an eminence with its tile roofs, surmounted by a long, straightbacked cathedral with two stiff towers. As we

got into the town, the tile roofs seemed to tumble uphill one upon another, in the oddest disorder; but for all

their scrambling, they did not attain above the knees of the cathedral, which stood, upright and solemn, over

all. As the streets drew near to this presiding genius, through the market place under the Hotel de Ville, they

grew emptier and more composed. Blank walls and shuttered windows were turned to the great edifice, and

grass grew on the white causeway. 'Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is

holy ground.' The Hotel du Nord, nevertheless, lights its secular tapers within a stonecast of the church; and

we had the superb eastend before our eyes all morning from the window of our bedroom. I have seldom

looked on the eastend of a church with more complete sympathy. As it flanges out in three wide terraces and

settles down broadly on the earth, it looks like the poop of some great old battleship. Hollowbacked

buttresses carry vases, which figure for the stern lanterns. There is a roll in the ground, and the towers just

appear above the pitch of the roof, as though the good ship were bowing lazily over an Atlantic swell. At any

moment it might be a hundred feet away from you, climbing the next billow. At any moment a window might

open, and some old admiral thrust forth a cocked hat, and proceed to take an observation. The old admirals

sail the sea no longer; the old ships of battle are all broken up, and live only in pictures; but this, that was a

church before ever they were thought upon, is still a church, and makes as brave an appearance by the Oise.

The cathedral and the river are probably the two oldest things for miles around; and certainly they have both a

The Sacristan took us to the top of one of the towers, and showed us the five bells hanging in their loft. From

above, the town was a tesselated pavement of roofs and gardens; the old line of rampart was plainly traceable;

and the Sacristan pointed out to us, far across the plain, in a bit of gleaming sky between two clouds, the

I find I never weary of great churches. It is my favourite kind of mountain scenery. Mankind was never so

happily inspired as when it made a cathedral: a thing as single and specious as a statue to the first glance, and

yet, on examination, as lively and interesting as a forest in detail. The height of spires cannot be taken by

trigonometry; they measure absurdly short, but how tall they are to the admiring eye! And where we have so

many elegant proportions, growing one out of the other, and all together into one, it seems as if proportion

transcended itself, and became something different and more imposing. I could never fathom how a man

dares to lift up his voice to preach in a cathedral. What is he to say that will not be an anticlimax? For

though I have heard a considerable variety of sermons, I never yet heard one that was so expressive as a

cathedral. 'Tis the best preacher itself, and preaches day and night; not only telling you of man's art and

aspirations in the past, but convicting your own soul of ardent sympathies; or rather, like all good preachers,

it sets you preaching to yourself; and every man is his own doctor of divinity in the last resort.

As I sat outside of the hotel in the course of the afternoon, the sweet groaning thunder of the organ floated out

of the church like a summons. I was not averse, liking the theatre so well, to sit out an act or two of the play,

but I could never rightly make out the nature of the service I beheld. Four or five priests and as many

choristers were singing MISERERE before the high altar when I went in. There was no congregation but a

few old women on chairs and old men kneeling on the pavement. After a while a long train of young girls,

walking two and two, each with a lighted taper in her hand, and all dressed in black with a white veil, came

from behind the altar, and began to descend the nave; the four first carrying a Virgin and child upon a table.

The priests and choristers arose from their knees and followed after, singing 'Ave Mary' as they went. In this

order they made the circuit of the cathedral, passing twice before me where I leaned against a pillar. The

priest who seemed of most consequence was a strange, down looking old man. He kept mumbling prayers

with his lips; but as he looked upon me darkling, it did not seem as if prayer were uppermost in his heart.

Two others, who bore the burthen of the chaunt, were stout, brutal, militarylooking men of forty, with bold,

overfed eyes; they sang with some lustiness, and trolled forth 'Ave Mary' like a garrison catch. The little

girls were timid and grave. As they footed slowly up the aisle, each one took a moment's glance at the

Englishman; and the big nun who played marshal fairly stared him out of countenance. As for the choristers,

from first to last they misbehaved as only boys can misbehave; and cruelly marred the performance with their

I understood a great deal of the spirit of what went on. Indeed it would be difficult not to understand the

MISERERE, which I take to be the composition of an atheist. If it ever be a good thing to take such

despondency to heart, the MISERERE is the right music, and a cathedral a fit scene. So far I am at one with

the Catholics: an odd name for them, after all? But why, in God's name, these holiday choristers? why these

priests who steal wandering looks about the congregation while they feign to be at prayer? why this fat nun,

who rudely arranges her procession and shakes delinquent virgins by the elbow? why this spitting, and

snuffing, and forgetting of keys, and the thousand and one little misadventures that disturb a frame of mind

laboriously edified with chaunts and organings? In any playhouse reverend fathers may see what can be

done with a little art, and how, to move high sentiments, it is necessary to drill the supernumeraries and have

One other circumstance distressed me. I could bear a MISERERE myself, having had a good deal of openair

exercise of late; but I wished the old people somewhere else. It was neither the right sort of music nor the

right sort of divinity for men and women who have come through most accidents by this time, and probably

have an opinion of their own upon the tragic element in life. A person up in years can generally do his own

MISERERE for himself; although I notice that such an one often prefers JUBILATE DEO for his ordinary

singing. On the whole, the most religious exercise for the aged is probably to recall their own experience; so

many friends dead, so many hopes disappointed, so many slips and stumbles, and withal so many bright days

and smiling providences; there is surely the matter of a very eloquent sermon in all this.

On the whole, I was greatly solemnised. In the little pictorial map of our whole Inland Voyage, which my

fancy still preserves, and sometimes unrolls for the amusement of odd moments, Noyon cathedral figures on

a most preposterous scale, and must be nearly as large as a department. I can still see the faces of the priests

as if they were at my elbow, and hear AVE MARIA, ORA PRO NOBIS, sounding through the church. All

Noyon is blotted out for me by these superior memories; and I do not care to say more about the place. It was

but a stack of brown roofs at the best, where I believe people live very reputably in a quiet way; but the

shadow of the church falls upon it when the sun is low, and the five bells are heard in all quarters, telling that

the organ has begun. If ever I join the Church of Rome, I shall stipulate to be Bishop of Noyon on the Oise.

THE most patient people grow weary at last with being continually wetted with rain; except of course in the

Scottish Highlands, where there are not enough fine intervals to point the difference. That was like to be our

case, the day we left Noyon. I remember nothing of the voyage; it was nothing but clay banks and willows,

and rain; incessant, pitiless, beating rain; until we stopped to lunch at a little inn at Pimprez, where the canal

ran very near the river. We were so sadly drenched that the landlady lit a few sticks in the chimney for our

comfort; there we sat in a steam of vapour, lamenting our concerns. The husband donned a gamebag and

strode out to shoot; the wife sat in a far corner watching us. I think we were worth looking at. We grumbled

over the misfortune of La Fere; we forecast other La Feres in the future; although things went better with

the CIGARETTE for spokesman; he had more aplomb altogether than I; and a dull, positive way of

approaching a landlady that carried off the indiarubber bags. Talking of La Fere put us talking of the

'These gentlemen travel for their pleasure?' asked the landlady, with unconscious irony.

It was too much. The scales fell from our eyes. Another wet day, it was determined, and we put the boats into

The weather took the hint. That was our last wetting. The afternoon faired up: grand clouds still voyaged in

the sky, but now singly, and with a depth of blue around their path; and a sunset in the daintiest rose and gold

inaugurated a thick night of stars and a month of unbroken weather. At the same time, the river began to give

us a better outlook into the country. The banks were not so high, the willows disappeared from along the

margin, and pleasant hills stood all along its course and marked their profile on the sky.

In a little while the canal, coming to its last lock, began to discharge its waterhouses on the Oise; so that we

had no lack of company to fear. Here were all our old friends; the DEO GRATIAS of Conde and the FOUR

SONS OF AYMON journeyed cheerily down stream along with us; we exchanged waterside pleasantries

with the steersman perched among the lumber, or the driver hoarse with bawling to his horses; and the

children came and looked over the side as we paddled by. We had never known all this while how much we

A little below this junction we made another meeting of yet more account. For there we were joined by the

Aisne, already a far travelled river and fresh out of Champagne. Here ended the adolescence of the Oise;

this was his marriage day; thenceforward he had a stately, brimming march, conscious of his own dignity and

sundry dams. He became a tranquil feature in the scene. The trees and towns saw themselves in him, as in a

mirror. He carried the canoes lightly on his broad breast; there was no need to work hard against an eddy: but

idleness became the order of the day, and mere straightforward dipping of the paddle, now on this side, now

on that, without intelligence or effort. Truly we were coming into halcyon weather upon all accounts, and

We made Compiegne as the sun was going down: a fine profile of a town above the river. Over the bridge, a

regiment was parading to the drum. People loitered on the quay, some fishing, some looking idly at the

stream. And as the two boats shot in along the water, we could see them pointing them out and speaking one

to another. We landed at a floating lavatory, where the washerwomen were still beating the clothes.

WE put up at a big, bustling hotel in Compiegne, where nobody observed our presence.

Reservery and general MILITARISMUS (as the Germans call it) were rampant. A camp of conical white

tents without the town looked like a leaf out of a picture Bible; swordbelts decorated the walls of the

CAFES; and the streets kept sounding all day long with military music. It was not possible to be an

Englishman and avoid a feeling of elation; for the men who followed the drums were small, and walked

shabbily. Each man inclined at his own angle, and jolted to his own convenience, as he went. There was

nothing of the superb gait with which a regiment of tall Highlanders moves behind its music, solemn and

inevitable, like a natural phenomenon. Who that has seen it can forget the drummajor pacing in front, the

drummers' tigerskins, the pipers' swinging plaids, the strange elastic rhythm of the whole regiment footing it

in time and the bang of the drum, when the brasses cease, and the shrill pipes take up the martial story in

A girl, at school in France, began to describe one of our regiments on parade to her French schoolmates; and

as she went on, she told me, the recollection grew so vivid, she became so proud to be the countrywoman of

such soldiers, and so sorry to be in another country, that her voice failed her and she burst into tears. I have

never forgotten that girl; and I think she very nearly deserves a statue. To call her a young lady, with all its

niminy associations, would be to offer her an insult. She may rest assured of one thing: although she never

should marry a heroic general, never see any great or immediate result of her life, she will not have lived in

But though French soldiers show to ill advantage on parade, on the march they are gay, alert, and willing like

a troop of foxhunters. I remember once seeing a company pass through the forest of Fontainebleau, on the

Chailly road, between the Bas Breau and the Reine Blanche. One fellow walked a little before the rest, and

sang a loud, audacious marching song. The rest bestirred their feet, and even swung their muskets in time. A

young officer on horseback had hard ado to keep his countenance at the words. You never saw anything so

cheerful and spontaneous as their gait; schoolboys do not look more eagerly at hare and hounds; and you

My great delight in Compiegne was the townhall. I doted upon the townhall. It is a monument of Gothic

insecurity, all turreted, and gargoyled, and slashed, and bedizened with half a score of architectural fancies.

Some of the niches are gilt and painted; and in a great square panel in the centre, in black relief on a gilt

ground, Louis XII. rides upon a pacing horse, with hand on hip and head thrown back. There is royal

arrogance in every line of him; the stirruped foot projects insolently from the frame; the eye is hard and

proud; the very horse seems to be treading with gratification over prostrate serfs, and to have the breath of the

trumpet in his nostrils. So rides for ever, on the front of the townhall, the good king Louis XII., the father of

Over the king's head, in the tall centre turret, appears the dial of a clock; and high above that, three little

mechanical figures, each one with a hammer in his hand, whose business it is to chime out the hours and

halves and quarters for the burgesses of Compiegne. The centre figure has a gilt breastplate; the two others

wear gilt trunkhose; and they all three have elegant, flapping hats like cavaliers. As the quarter approaches,

they turn their heads and look knowingly one to the other; and then, KLING go the three hammers on three

little bells below. The hour follows, deep and sonorous, from the interior of the tower; and the gilded

I had a great deal of healthy pleasure from their manoeuvres, and took good care to miss as few performances

as possible; and I found that even the CIGARETTE, while he pretended to despise my enthusiasm, was more

or less a devotee himself. There is something highly absurd in the exposition of such toys to the outrages of

winter on a housetop. They would be more in keeping in a glass case before a Nurnberg clock. Above all, at

night, when the children are abed, and even grown people are snoring under quilts, does it not seem

impertinent to leave these gingerbread figures winking and tinkling to the stars and the rolling moon? The

gargoyles may fitly enough twist their apelike heads; fitly enough may the potentate bestride his charger,

like a centurion in an old German print of the VIA DOLOROSA; but the toys should be put away in a box

among some cotton, until the sun rises, and the children are abroad again to be amused.

In Compiegne postoffice a great packet of letters awaited us; and the authorities were, for this occasion

In some ways, our journey may be said to end with this letterbag at Compiegne. The spell was broken. We

No one should have any correspondence on a journey; it is bad enough to have to write; but the receipt of

'Out of my country and myself I go.' I wish to take a dive among new conditions for a while, as into another

element. I have nothing to do with my friends or my affections for the time; when I came away, I left my

heart at home in a desk, or sent it forward with my portmanteau to await me at my destination. After my

journey is over, I shall not fail to read your admirable letters with the attention they deserve. But I have paid

all this money, look you, and paddled all these strokes, for no other purpose than to be abroad; and yet you

keep me at home with your perpetual communications. You tug the string, and I feel that I am a tethered bird.

You pursue me all over Europe with the little vexations that I came away to avoid. There is no discharge in

the war of life, I am well aware; but shall there not be so much as a week's furlough?

We were up by six, the day we were to leave. They had taken so little note of us that I hardly thought they

would have condescended on a bill. But they did, with some smart particulars too; and we paid in a civilised

manner to an uninterested clerk, and went out of that hotel, with the indiarubber bags, unremarked. No one

cared to know about us. It is not possible to rise before a village; but Compiegne was so grown a town, that it

took its ease in the morning; and we were up and away while it was still in dressinggown and slippers. The

streets were left to people washing doorsteps; nobody was in full dress but the cavaliers upon the townhall;

they were all washed with dew, spruce in their gilding, and full of intelligence and a sense of professional

responsibility. KLING went they on the bells for the halfpast six as we went by. I took it kind of them to

make me this parting compliment; they never were in better form, not even at noon upon a Sunday.

There was no one to see us off but the early washerwomen early and late who were already beating the

linen in their floating lavatory on the river. They were very merry and matutinal in their ways; plunged their

arms boldly in, and seemed not to feel the shock. It would be dispiriting to me, this early beginning and first

cold dabble of a most dispiriting day's work. But I believe they would have been as unwilling to change days

with us as we could be to change with them. They crowded to the door to watch us paddle away into the thin

sunny mists upon the river; and shouted heartily after us till we were through the bridge.

THERE is a sense in which those mists never rose from off our journey; and from that time forth they lie very

densely in my note book. As long as the Oise was a small rural river, it took us near by people's doors, and

we could hold a conversation with natives in the riparian fields. But now that it had grown so wide, the life

along shore passed us by at a distance. It was the same difference as between a great public highway and a

country bypath that wanders in and out of cottage gardens. We now lay in towns, where nobody troubled us

with questions; we had floated into civilised life, where people pass without salutation. In sparsely inhabited

places, we make all we can of each encounter; but when it comes to a city, we keep to ourselves, and never

speak unless we have trodden on a man's toes. In these waters we were no longer strange birds, and nobody

supposed we had travelled farther than from the last town. I remember, when we came into L'Isle Adam, for

instance, how we met dozens of pleasureboats outing it for the afternoon, and there was nothing to

distinguish the true voyager from the amateur, except, perhaps, the filthy condition of my sail. The company

in one boat actually thought they recognised me for a neighbour. Was there ever anything more wounding?

All the romance had come down to that. Now, on the upper Oise, where nothing sailed as a general thing but

fish, a pair of canoeists could not be thus vulgarly explained away; we were strange and picturesque

intruders; and out of people's wonder sprang a sort of light and passing intimacy all along our route. There is

nothing but tit fortat in this world, though sometimes it be a little difficult to trace: for the scores are older

than we ourselves, and there has never yet been a settlingday since things were. You get entertainment

pretty much in proportion as you give. As long as we were a sort of odd wanderers, to be stared at and

followed like a quack doctor or a caravan, we had no want of amusement in return; but as soon as we sank

into commonplace ourselves, all whom we met were similarly disenchanted. And here is one reason of a

In our earlier adventures there was generally something to do, and that quickened us. Even the showers of

rain had a revivifying effect, and shook up the brain from torpor. But now, when the river no longer ran in a

proper sense, only glided seaward with an even, outright, but imperceptible speed, and when the sky smiled

upon us day after day without variety, we began to slip into that golden doze of the mind which follows upon

much exercise in the open air. I have stupefied myself in this way more than once; indeed, I dearly love the

feeling; but I never had it to the same degree as when paddling down the Oise. It was the apotheosis of

We ceased reading entirely. Sometimes when I found a new paper, I took a particular pleasure in reading a

single number of the current novel; but I never could bear more than three instalments; and even the second

was a disappointment. As soon as the tale became in any way perspicuous, it lost all merit in my eyes; only a

single scene, or, as is the way with these FEUILLETONS, half a scene, without antecedent or consequence,

like a piece of a dream, had the knack of fixing my interest. The less I saw of the novel, the better I liked it: a

pregnant reflection. But for the most part, as I said, we neither of us read anything in the world, and

employed the very little while we were awake between bed and dinner in poring upon maps. I have always

been fond of maps, and can voyage in an atlas with the greatest enjoyment. The names of places are

singularly inviting; the contour of coasts and rivers is enthralling to the eye; and to hit, in a map, upon some

place you have heard of before, makes history a new possession. But we thumbed our charts, on these

evenings, with the blankest unconcern. We cared not a fraction for this place or that. We stared at the sheet as

children listen to their rattle; and read the names of towns or villages to forget them again at once. We had no

romance in the matter; there was nobody so fancyfree. If you had taken the maps away while we were

studying them most intently, it is a fair bet whether we might not have continued to study the table with the

About one thing we were mightily taken up, and that was eating. I think I made a god of my belly. I

remember dwelling in imagination upon this or that dish till my mouth watered; and long before we got in for

the night my appetite was a clamant, instant annoyance. Sometimes we paddled alongside for a while and

whetted each other with gastronomical fancies as we went. Cake and sherry, a homely rejection, but not

within reach upon the Oise, trotted through my head for many a mile; and once, as we were approaching

Verberie, the CIGARETTE brought my heart into my mouth by the suggestion of oysterpatties and

I suppose none of us recognise the great part that is played in life by eating and drinking. The appetite is so

imperious that we can stomach the least interesting viands, and pass off a dinner hour thankfully enough on

bread and water; just as there are men who must read something, if it were only BRADSHAW'S GUIDE. But

there is a romance about the matter after all. Probably the table has more devotees than love; and I am sure

that food is much more generally entertaining than scenery. Do you give in, as Walt Whitman would say, that

you are any the less immortal for that? The true materialism is to be ashamed of what we are. To detect the

flavour of an olive is no less a piece of human perfection than to find beauty in the colours of the sunset.

Canoeing was easy work. To dip the paddle at the proper inclination, now right, now left; to keep the head

down stream; to empty the little pool that gathered in the lap of the apron; to screw up the eyes against the

glittering sparkles of sun upon the water; or now and again to pass below the whistling towrope of the DEO

GRATIAS of Conde, or the FOUR SONS OF AYMON there was not much art in that; certain silly muscles

managed it between sleep and waking; and meanwhile the brain had a whole holiday, and went to sleep. We

took in, at a glance, the larger features of the scene; and beheld, with half an eye, bloused fishers and

dabbling washerwomen on the bank. Now and again we might be halfwakened by some church spire, by a

leaping fish, or by a trail of river grass that clung about the paddle and had to be plucked off and thrown

away. But these luminous intervals were only partially luminous. A little more of us was called into action,

but never the whole. The central bureau of nerves, what in some moods we call Ourselves, enjoyed its

holiday without disturbance, like a Government Office. The great wheels of intelligence turned idly in the

head, like fly wheels, grinding no grist. I have gone on for half an hour at a time, counting my strokes and

forgetting the hundreds. I flatter myself the beasts that perish could not underbid that, as a low form of

consciousness. And what a pleasure it was! What a hearty, tolerant temper did it bring about! There is

nothing captious about a man who has attained to this, the one possible apotheosis in life, the Apotheosis of

There was one odd piece of practical metaphysics which accompanied what I may call the depth, if I must not

call it the intensity, of my abstraction. What philosophers call ME and NOTME, EGO and NON EGO,

preoccupied me whether I would or no. There was less ME and more NOTME than I was accustomed to

expect. I looked on upon somebody else, who managed the paddling; I was aware of somebody else's feet

against the stretcher; my own body seemed to have no more intimate relation to me than the canoe, or the

river, or the river banks. Nor this alone: something inside my mind, a part of my brain, a province of my

proper being, had thrown off allegiance and set up for itself, or perhaps for the somebody else who did the

paddling. I had dwindled into quite a little thing in a corner of myself. I was isolated in my own skull.

Thoughts presented themselves unbidden; they were not my thoughts, they were plainly some one else's; and

I considered them like a part of the landscape. I take it, in short, that I was about as near Nirvana as would be

convenient in practical life; and if this be so, I make the Buddhists my sincere compliments; 'tis an agreeable

state, not very consistent with mental brilliancy, not exactly profitable in a money point of view, but very

calm, golden, and incurious, and one that sets a man superior to alarms. It may be best figured by supposing

yourself to get dead drunk, and yet keep sober to enjoy it. I have a notion that openair labourers must spend

a large portion of their days in this ecstatic stupor, which explains their high composure and endurance. A

pity to go to the expense of laudanum, when here is a better paradise for nothing!

This frame of mind was the great exploit of our voyage, take it all in all. It was the farthest piece of travel

accomplished. Indeed, it lies so far from beaten paths of language, that I despair of getting the reader into

sympathy with the smiling, complacent idiocy of my condition; when ideas came and went like motes in a

sunbeam; when trees and church spires along the bank surged up, from time to time into my notice, like solid

objects through a rolling cloudland; when the rhythmical swish of boat and paddle in the water became a

cradlesong to lull my thoughts asleep; when a piece of mud on the deck was sometimes an intolerable

eyesore, and sometimes quite a companion for me, and the object of pleased consideration; and all the time,

with the river running and the shores changing upon either hand, I kept counting my strokes and forgetting

WE made our first stage below Compiegne to Pont Sainte Maxence. I was abroad a little after six the next

morning. The air was biting, and smelt of frost. In an open place a score of women wrangled together over

the day's market; and the noise of their negotiation sounded thin and querulous like that of sparrows on a

winter's morning. The rare passengers blew into their hands, and shuffled in their wooden shoes to set the

blood agog. The streets were full of icy shadow, although the chimneys were smoking overhead in golden

sunshine. If you wake early enough at this season of the year, you may get up in December to break your fast

I found my way to the church; for there is always something to see about a church, whether living

worshippers or dead men's tombs; you find there the deadliest earnest, and the hollowest deceit; and even

where it is not a piece of history, it will be certain to leak out some contemporary gossip. It was scarcely so

cold in the church as it was without, but it looked colder. The white nave was positively arctic to the eye; and

the tawdriness of a continental altar looked more forlorn than usual in the solitude and the bleak air. Two

priests sat in the chancel, reading and waiting penitents; and out in the nave, one very old woman was

engaged in her devotions. It was a wonder how she was able to pass her beads when healthy young people

were breathing in their palms and slapping their chest; but though this concerned me, I was yet more

dispirited by the nature of her exercises. She went from chair to chair, from altar to altar, circumnavigating

the church. To each shrine she dedicated an equal number of beads and an equal length of time. Like a

prudent capitalist with a somewhat cynical view of the commercial prospect, she desired to place her

supplications in a great variety of heavenly securities. She would risk nothing on the credit of any single

intercessor. Out of the whole company of saints and angels, not one but was to suppose himself her champion

elect against the Great Assize! I could only think of it as a dull, transparent jugglery, based upon unconscious

She was as dead an old woman as ever I saw; no more than bone and parchment, curiously put together. Her

eyes, with which she interrogated mine, were vacant of sense. It depends on what you call seeing, whether

you might not call her blind. Perhaps she had known love: perhaps borne children, suckled them and given

them pet names. But now that was all gone by, and had left her neither happier nor wiser; and the best she

could do with her mornings was to come up here into the cold church and juggle for a slice of heaven. It was

not without a gulp that I escaped into the streets and the keen morning air. Morning? why, how tired of it she

would be before night! and if she did not sleep, how then? It is fortunate that not many of us are brought up

publicly to justify our lives at the bar of threescore years and ten; fortunate that such a number are knocked

opportunely on the head in what they call the flower of their years, and go away to suffer for their follies in

private somewhere else. Otherwise, between sick children and discontented old folk, we might be put out of

I had need of all my cerebral hygiene during that day's paddle: the old devotee stuck in my throat sorely. But

I was soon in the seventh heaven of stupidity; and knew nothing but that somebody was paddling a canoe,

while I was counting his strokes and forgetting the hundreds. I used sometimes to be afraid I should

remember the hundreds; which would have made a toil of a pleasure; but the terror was chimerical, they went

out of my mind by enchantment, and I knew no more than the man in the moon about my only occupation.

At Creil, where we stopped to lunch, we left the canoes in another floating lavatory, which, as it was high

noon, was packed with washerwomen, redhanded and loudvoiced; and they and their broad jokes are about

all I remember of the place. I could look up my historybooks, if you were very anxious, and tell you a date

or two; for it figured rather largely in the English wars. But I prefer to mention a girls' boardingschool,

which had an interest for us because it was a girls' boardingschool, and because we imagined we had rather

an interest for it. At least there were the girls about the garden; and here were we on the river; and there

was more than one handkerchief waved as we went by. It caused quite a stir in my heart; and yet how we

should have wearied and despised each other, these girls and I, if we had been introduced at a croquetparty!

But this is a fashion I love: to kiss the hand or wave a handkerchief to people I shall never see again, to play

with possibility, and knock in a peg for fancy to hang upon. It gives the traveller a jog, reminds him that he is

not a traveller everywhere, and that his journey is no more than a siesta by the way on the real march of life.

The church at Creil was a nondescript place in the inside, splashed with gaudy lights from the windows, and

picked out with medallions of the Dolorous Way. But there was one oddity, in the way of an EX VOTO,

which pleased me hugely: a faithful model of a canal boat, swung from the vault, with a written aspiration

that God should conduct the SAINT NICOLAS of Creil to a good haven. The thing was neatly executed, and

would have made the delight of a party of boys on the waterside. But what tickled me was the gravity of the

peril to be conjured. You might hang up the model of a seagoing ship, and welcome: one that is to plough a

furrow round the world, and visit the tropic or the frosty poles, runs dangers that are well worth a candle and

a mass. But the SAINT NICOLAS of Creil, which was to be tugged for some ten years by patient draught

horses, in a weedy canal, with the poplars chattering overhead, and the skipper whistling at the tiller; which

was to do all its errands in green inland places, and never get out of sight of a village belfry in all its cruising;

why, you would have thought if anything could be done without the intervention of Providence, it would be

that! But perhaps the skipper was a humorist: or perhaps a prophet, reminding people of the seriousness of

At Creil, as at Noyon, Saint Joseph seemed a favourite saint on the score of punctuality. Day and hour can be

specified; and grateful people do not fail to specify them on a votive tablet, when prayers have been

punctually and neatly answered. Whenever time is a consideration, Saint Joseph is the proper intermediary. I

took a sort of pleasure in observing the vogue he had in France, for the good man plays a very small part in

my religion at home. Yet I could not help fearing that, where the Saint is so much commanded for exactitude,

This is foolishness to us Protestants; and not of great importance anyway. Whether people's gratitude for the

good gifts that come to them be wisely conceived or dutifully expressed, is a secondary matter, after all, so

long as they feel gratitude. The true ignorance is when a man does not know that he has received a good gift,

or begins to imagine that he has got it for himself. The selfmade man is the funniest windbag after all! There

is a marked difference between decreeing light in chaos, and lighting the gas in a metropolitan backparlour

with a box of patent matches; and do what we will, there is always something made to our hand, if it were

But there was something worse than foolishness placarded in Creil Church. The Association of the Living

Rosary (of which I had never previously heard) is responsible for that. This Association was founded,

according to the printed advertisement, by a brief of Pope Gregory Sixteenth, on the 17th of January 1832:

according to a coloured basrelief, it seems to have been founded, sometime other, by the Virgin giving one

rosary to Saint Dominic, and the Infant Saviour giving another to Saint Catharine of Siena. Pope Gregory is

not so imposing, but he is nearer hand. I could not distinctly make out whether the Association was entirely

devotional, or had an eye to good works; at least it is highly organised: the names of fourteen matrons and

misses were filled in for each week of the month as associates, with one other, generally a married woman, at

the top for ZELATRICE: the leader of the band. Indulgences, plenary and partial, follow on the performance

of the duties of the Association. 'The partial indulgences are attached to the recitation of the rosary.' On 'the

recitation of the required DIZAINE,' a partial indulgence promptly follows. When people serve the kingdom

of heaven with a passbook in their hands, I should always be afraid lest they should carry the same

commercial spirit into their dealings with their fellowmen, which would make a sad and sordid business of

There is one more article, however, of happier import. 'All these indulgences,' it appeared, 'are applicable to

souls in purgatory.' For God's sake, ye ladies of Creil, apply them all to the souls in purgatory without delay!

Burns would take no hire for his last songs, preferring to serve his country out of unmixed love. Suppose you

were to imitate the exciseman, mesdames, and even if the souls in purgatory were not greatly bettered, some

souls in Creil upon the Oise would find themselves none the worse either here or hereafter.

I cannot help wondering, as I transcribe these notes, whether a Protestant born and bred is in a fit state to

understand these signs, and do them what justice they deserve; and I cannot help answering that he is not.

They cannot look so merely ugly and mean to the faithful as they do to me. I see that as clearly as a

proposition in Euclid. For these believers are neither weak nor wicked. They can put up their tablet

commanding Saint Joseph for his despatch, as if he were still a village carpenter; they can 'recite the required

DIZAINE,' and metaphorically pocket the indulgence, as if they had done a job for Heaven; and then they can

go out and look down unabashed upon this wonderful river flowing by, and up without confusion at the

pinpoint stars, which are themselves great worlds full of flowing rivers greater than the Oise. I see it as

plainly, I say, as a proposition in Euclid, that my Protestant mind has missed the point, and that there goes

I wonder if other people would make the same allowances for me! Like the ladies of Creil, having recited my

WE made Precy about sundown. The plain is rich with tufts of poplar. In a wide, luminous curve, the Oise lay

under the hillside. A faint mist began to rise and confound the different distances together. There was not a

sound audible but that of the sheepbells in some meadows by the river, and the creaking of a cart down the

long road that descends the hill. The villas in their gardens, the shops along the street, all seemed to have

been deserted the day before; and I felt inclined to walk discreetly as one feels in a silent forest. All of a

sudden, we came round a corner, and there, in a little green round the church, was a bevy of girls in Parisian

costumes playing croquet. Their laughter, and the hollow sound of ball and mallet, made a cheery stir in the

neighbourhood; and the look of these slim figures, all corseted and ribboned, produced an answerable

disturbance in our hearts. We were within sniff of Paris, it seemed. And here were females of our own species

playing croquet, just as if Precy had been a place in real life, instead of a stage in the fairyland of travel. For,

to be frank, the peasant woman is scarcely to be counted as a woman at all, and after having passed by such a

succession of people in petticoats digging and hoeing and making dinner, this company of coquettes under

arms made quite a surprising feature in the landscape, and convinced us at once of being fallible males.

The inn at Precy is the worst inn in France. Not even in Scotland have I found worse fare. It was kept by a

brother and sister, neither of whom was out of their teens. The sister, so to speak, prepared a meal for us; and

the brother, who had been tippling, came in and brought with him a tipsy butcher, to entertain us as we ate.

We found pieces of loowarm pork among the salad, and pieces of unknown yielding substance in the

RAGOUT. The butcher entertained us with pictures of Parisian life, with which he professed himself well

acquainted; the brother sitting the while on the edge of the billiardtable, toppling precariously, and sucking

the stump of a cigar. In the midst of these diversions, bang went a drum past the house, and a hoarse voice

began issuing a proclamation. It was a man with marionnettes announcing a performance for that evening.

He had set up his caravan and lighted his candles on another part of the girls' croquetgreen, under one of

those open sheds which are so common in France to shelter markets; and he and his wife, by the time we

It was the most absurd contention. The showpeople had set out a certain number of benches; and all who sat

upon them were to pay a couple of SOUS for the accommodation. They were always quite full a bumper

house as long as nothing was going forward; but let the showwoman appear with an eye to a collection,

and at the first rattle of her tambourine the audience slipped off the seats, and stood round on the outside with

their hands in their pockets. It certainly would have tried an angel's temper. The showman roared from the

proscenium; he had been all over France, and nowhere, nowhere, 'not even on the borders of Germany,' had

he met with such misconduct. Such thieves and rogues and rascals, as he called them! And every now and

again, the wife issued on another round, and added her shrill quota to the tirade. I remarked here, as

elsewhere, how far more copious is the female mind in the material of insult. The audience laughed in high

goodhumour over the man's declamations; but they bridled and cried aloud under the woman's pungent

sallies. She picked out the sore points. She had the honour of the village at her mercy. Voices answered her

angrily out of the crowd, and received a smarting retort for their trouble. A couple of old ladies beside me,

who had duly paid for their seats, waxed very red and indignant, and discoursed to each other audibly about

the impudence of these mountebanks; but as soon as the showwoman caught a whisper of this, she was

down upon them with a swoop: if mesdames could persuade their neighbours to act with common honesty,

the mountebanks, she assured them, would be polite enough: mesdames had probably had their bowl of soup,

and perhaps a glass of wine that evening; the mountebanks also had a taste for soup, and did not choose to

have their little earnings stolen from them before their eyes. Once, things came as far as a brief personal

encounter between the showman and some lads, in which the former went down as readily as one of his own

I was a good deal astonished at this scene, because I am pretty well acquainted with the ways of French

strollers, more or less artistic; and have always found them singularly pleasing. Any stroller must be dear to

the rightthinking heart; if it were only as a living protest against offices and the mercantile spirit, and as

something to remind us that life is not by necessity the kind of thing we generally make it. Even a German

band, if you see it leaving town in the early morning for a campaign in country places, among trees and

meadows, has a romantic flavour for the imagination. There is nobody, under thirty, so dead but his heart will

stir a little at sight of a gypsies' camp. 'We are not cottonspinners all'; or, at least, not all through. There is

some life in humanity yet: and youth will now and again find a brave word to say in dispraise of riches, and

An Englishman has always special facilities for intercourse with French gymnasts; for England is the natural

home of gymnasts. This or that fellow, in his tights and spangles, is sure to know a word or two of English, to

have drunk English AFF'NAFF, and perhaps performed in an English musichall. He is a countryman of

mine by profession. He leaps, like the Belgian boating men, to the notion that I must be an athlete myself.

But the gymnast is not my favourite; he has little or no tincture of the artist in his composition; his soul is

small and pedestrian, for the most part, since his profession makes no call upon it, and does not accustom him

to high ideas. But if a man is only so much of an actor that he can stumble through a farce, he is made free of

a new order of thoughts. He has something else to think about beside the moneybox. He has a pride of his

own, and, what is of far more importance, he has an aim before him that he can never quite attain. He has

gone upon a pilgrimage that will last him his life long, because there is no end to it short of perfection. He

will better upon himself a little day by day; or even if he has given up the attempt, he will always remember

that once upon a time he had conceived this high ideal, that once upon a time he had fallen in love with a star.

''Tis better to have loved and lost.' Although the moon should have nothing to say to Endymion, although he

should settle down with Audrey and feed pigs, do you not think he would move with a better grace, and

cherish higher thoughts to the end? The louts he meets at church never had a fancy above Audrey's snood; but

there is a reminiscence in Endymion's heart that, like a spice, keeps it fresh and haughty.

To be even one of the outskirters of art, leaves a fine stamp on a man's countenance. I remember once dining

with a party in the inn at Chateau Landon. Most of them were unmistakable bagmen; others welltodo

peasantry; but there was one young fellow in a blouse, whose face stood out from among the rest

surprisingly. It looked more finished; more of the spirit looked out through it; it had a living, expressive air,

and you could see that his eyes took things in. My companion and I wondered greatly who and what he could

be. It was fairtime in Chateau Landon, and when we went along to the booths, we had our question

answered; for there was our friend busily fiddling for the peasants to caper to. He was a wandering violinist.

A troop of strollers once came to the inn where I was staying, in the department of Seine et Marne. There was

a father and mother; two daughters, brazen, blowsy hussies, who sang and acted, without an idea of how to

set about either; and a dark young man, like a tutor, a recalcitrant housepainter, who sang and acted not

amiss. The mother was the genius of the party, so far as genius can be spoken of with regard to such a pack of

incompetent humbugs; and her husband could not find words to express his admiration for her comic

countryman. 'You should see my old woman,' said he, and nodded his beery countenance. One night they

performed in the stableyard, with flaring lamps a wretched exhibition, coldly looked upon by a village

audience. Next night, as soon as the lamps were lighted, there came a plump of rain, and they had to sweep

away their baggage as fast as possible, and make off to the barn where they harboured, cold, wet, and

supperless. In the morning, a dear friend of mine, who has as warm a heart for strollers as I have myself,

made a little collection, and sent it by my hands to comfort them for their disappointment. I gave it to the

father; he thanked me cordially, and we drank a cup together in the kitchen, talking of roads, and audiences,

When I was going, up got my old stroller, and off with his hat. 'I am afraid,' said he, 'that Monsieur will think

me altogether a beggar; but I have another demand to make upon him.' I began to hate him on the spot. 'We

play again tonight,' he went on. 'Of course, I shall refuse to accept any more money from Monsieur and his

friends, who have been already so liberal. But our programme of tonight is something truly creditable; and I

cling to the idea that Monsieur will honour us with his presence.' And then, with a shrug and a smile:

'Monsieur understands the vanity of an artist!' Save the mark! The vanity of an artist! That is the kind of

thing that reconciles me to life: a ragged, tippling, incompetent old rogue, with the manners of a gentleman,

But the man after my own heart is M. de Vauversin. It is nearly two years since I saw him first, and indeed I

hope I may see him often again. Here is his first programme, as I found it on the breakfasttable, and have

They made a stage at one end of the SALLEAMANGER. And what a sight it was to see M. de Vauversin,

with a cigarette in his mouth, twanging a guitar, and following Mademoiselle Ferrario's eyes with the

obedient, kindly look of a dog! The entertainment wound up with a tombola, or auction of lottery tickets: an

admirable amusement, with all the excitement of gambling, and no hope of gain to make you ashamed of

your eagerness; for there, all is loss; you make haste to be out of pocket; it is a competition who shall lose

M. de Vauversin is a small man, with a great head of black hair, a vivacious and engaging air, and a smile

that would be delightful if he had better teeth. He was once an actor in the Chatelet; but he contracted a

nervous affection from the heat and glare of the footlights, which unfitted him for the stage. At this crisis

Mademoiselle Ferrario, otherwise Mademoiselle Rita of the Alcazar, agreed to share his wandering fortunes.

'I could never forget the generosity of that lady,' said he. He wears trousers so tight that it has long been a

problem to all who knew him how he manages to get in and out of them. He sketches a little in

watercolours; he writes verses; he is the most patient of fishermen, and spent long days at the bottom of the

You should hear him recounting his experiences over a bottle of wine; such a pleasant vein of talk as he has,

with a ready smile at his own mishaps, and every now and then a sudden gravity, like a man who should hear

the surf roar while he was telling the perils of the deep. For it was no longer ago than last night, perhaps, that

the receipts only amounted to a franc and a half, to cover three francs of railway fare and two of board and

lodging. The Maire, a man worth a million of money, sat in the front seat, repeatedly applauding Mlle.

Ferrario, and yet gave no more than three SOUS the whole evening. Local authorities look with such an evil

eye upon the strolling artist. Alas! I know it well, who have been myself taken for one, and pitilessly

incarcerated on the strength of the misapprehension. Once, M. de Vauversin visited a commissary of police

for permission to sing. The commissary, who was smoking at his ease, politely doffed his hat upon the

singer's entrance. 'Mr. Commissary,' he began, 'I am an artist.' And on went the commissary's hat again. No

courtesy for the companions of Apollo! 'They are as degraded as that,' said M. de Vauversin with a sweep of

But what pleased me most was one outbreak of his, when we had been talking all the evening of the rubs,

indignities, and pinchings of his wandering life. Some one said, it would be better to have a million of money

down, and Mlle. Ferrario admitted that she would prefer that mightily. 'EH BIEN, MOI NON; not I,' cried

De Vauversin, striking the table with his hand. 'If any one is a failure in the world, is it not I? I had an art, in

which I have done things well as well as some better perhaps than others; and now it is closed against me.

I must go about the country gathering coppers and singing nonsense. Do you think I regret my life? Do you

think I would rather be a fat burgess, like a calf? Not I! I have had moments when I have been applauded on

the boards: I think nothing of that; but I have known in my own mind sometimes, when I had not a clap from

the whole house, that I had found a true intonation, or an exact and speaking gesture; and then, messieurs, I

have known what pleasure was, what it was to do a thing well, what it was to be an artist. And to know what

art is, is to have an interest for ever, such as no burgess can find in his petty concerns. TENEZ, MESSIEURS,

Such, making some allowance for the tricks of memory and the inaccuracies of translation, was the

profession of faith of M. de Vauversin. I have given him his own name, lest any other wanderer should come

across him, with his guitar and cigarette, and Mademoiselle Ferrario; for should not all the world delight to

honour this unfortunate and loyal follower of the Muses? May Apollo send him rimes hitherto undreamed of;

may the river be no longer scanty of her silver fishes to his lure; may the cold not pinch him on long winter

rides, nor the village jackinoffice affront him with unseemly manners; and may he never miss

Mademoiselle Ferrario from his side, to follow with his dutiful eyes and accompany on the guitar!

The marionnettes made a very dismal entertainment. They performed a piece, called PYRAMUS AND

THISBE, in five mortal acts, and all written in Alexandrines fully as long as the performers. One marionnette

was the king; another the wicked counsellor; a third, credited with exceptional beauty, represented Thisbe;

and then there were guards, and obdurate fathers, and walking gentlemen. Nothing particular took place

during the two or three acts that I sat out; but you will he pleased to learn that the unities were properly

respected, and the whole piece, with one exception, moved in harmony with classical rules. That exception

was the comic countryman, a lean marionnette in wooden shoes, who spoke in prose and in a broad PATOIS

much appreciated by the audience. He took unconstitutional liberties with the person of his sovereign; kicked

his fellowmarionnettes in the mouth with his wooden shoes, and whenever none of the versifying suitors

This fellow's evolutions, and the little prologue, in which the showman made a humorous eulogium of his

troop, praising their indifference to applause and hisses, and their single devotion to their art, were the only

circumstances in the whole affair that you could fancy would so much as raise a smile. But the villagers of

Precy seemed delighted. Indeed, so long as a thing is an exhibition, and you pay to see it, it is nearly certain

to amuse. If we were charged so much a head for sunsets, or if God sent round a drum before the hawthorns

came in flower, what a work should we not make about their beauty! But these things, like good companions,

stupid people early cease to observe: and the Abstract Bagman tittups past in his spring gig, and is positively

not aware of the flowers along the lane, or the scenery of the weather overhead.

OF the next two days' sail little remains in my mind, and nothing whatever in my notebook. The river

streamed on steadily through pleasant riverside landscapes. Washerwomen in blue dresses, fishers in blue

blouses, diversified the green banks; and the relation of the two colours was like that of the flower and the

leaf in the forgetmenot. A symphony in forgetmenot; I think Theophile Gautier might thus have

characterised that two days' panorama. The sky was blue and cloudless; and the sliding surface of the river

held up, in smooth places, a mirror to the heaven and the shores. The washerwomen hailed us laughingly; and

the noise of trees and water made an accompaniment to our dozing thoughts, as we fleeted down the stream.

The great volume, the indefatigable purpose of the river, held the mind in chain. It seemed now so sure of its

end, so strong and easy in its gait, like a grown man full of determination. The surf was roaring for it on the

For my own part, slipping along this moving thoroughfare in my fiddlecase of a canoe, I also was beginning

to grow aweary for my ocean. To the civilised man, there must come, sooner or later, a desire for civilisation.

I was weary of dipping the paddle; I was weary of living on the skirts of life; I wished to be in the thick of it

once more; I wished to get to work; I wished to meet people who understood my own speech, and could meet

And so a letter at Pontoise decided us, and we drew up our keels for the last time out of that river of Oise that

had faithfully piloted them, through rain and sunshine, for so long. For so many miles had this fleet and

footless beast of burthen charioted our fortunes, that we turned our back upon it with a sense of separation.

We had made a long detour out of the world, but now we were back in the familiar places, where life itself

makes all the running, and we are carried to meet adventure without a stroke of the paddle. Now we were to

return, like the voyager in the play, and see what rearrangements fortune had perfected the while in our

surroundings; what surprises stood ready made for us at home; and whither and how far the world had

voyaged in our absence. You may paddle all day long; but it is when you come back at nightfall, and look in

at the familiar room, that you find Love or Death awaiting you beside the stove; and the most beautiful