Goethe, reserved an interior self, which | Forster is almost the first of Swift's biogremained impassible to them. Each ex- raphers or critics who takes real pains to erted the powers of pleasing which each explore all the sources of fresh informapossessed to attract female affections, which neither was prepared to reciprocate to the extent of undivided devotion to one object; and the result in both cases was what we must call tragical. Swift had to complain, in his later joyless years, that his female friends had forsaken him, and Goethe-after tearing himself loose from an honourable love on very small motives -suffered a woman every way his inferior, whom he himself acknowledged to be a "poor creature," to throw herself into his arms unconditionally, and fasten for life her vulgarity on the ultra-refinement of his studiously composed existence.† Such were the fruits, in each case of overcalculation or over-fastidiousness in short, selfishness. In Swift's case there is still an element of mystery, for the solution of which, if any more complete solution is possible, we have some right to look, and shall look with curiosity and interest, to the sequel of Mr. Forster's vigorous and sympathetic Apologia for the genius and character of the extraordinary man he has made his subject. In the mean while let us just remind those who, while enjoying Swift the writer, are unmeasured in their denunciations of Swift the man, that had not the man been what he was, the world never would have possessed the writer. If Swift had been a model of clerical decorum, "The Tale of a Tub" must have remained unwritten; as, for that matter, so must "Gulliver's Travels," had Swift continued a staunch and satisfied Whig. The popular resurrection of Ireland would not have dated from the "Drapier's Letters," had not Walpole held Swift, like Bolingbroke, at arm's length, under the first Georges. "Prince Posterity" must take the lot with all faults, and perhaps has no bad bargain. We may say in conclusion, that Mr. In one of Swift's later letters to Pope (February 7, 1736) we find the following passage, which is not without its pathos: -"What vexes me most is, that my female friends, who could bear me very well a dozen of years ago, have now forsaken me, although I am not so old in proportion to them as I formerly was; which I can prove by arithmetic, for them I was double their age, which now I am not." t Of all who have written, and written well on Goethe's relations to women, the only one we have met with who performs fearlessly the whole moral anatomy of the man is Mr. R. H. Hutton, in his "Literary Essays." Mr. Hutton is of opinion that Goethe really loved Christiane Vulpius, whom, after cohabiting with her seventeen years, he married. If he did love her, it was a love compatible with slight esteem, and with tolerance of slight esteem of others for its object. The 66 poor creature" took to drinking. tion on his subject which have been opened to him by others, or which personal research and inquiry have opened for himself. Johnson slighted Mr. Deane Swift's offer to aid him with family traditions and documents. Scott worked up very readably in his short memoir all the materials which came readily to hand, but does not seem to have thought it worth while to look far afield for more matter than he could bring within the compass of that memoir. Jeffrey in his "Essay on Swift," which he twice reprinted from his review, did his worst to wash on again the party blacking which he thought Scott had been rather too disposed to wash off the character of a Whig convert to Toryism. Macaulay and Thackeray had their own political and literary humours to vent at Swift's expense; and both, as regarded facts, were content with that à-peu-près, which was Sainte-Beuve's special horror, and with which, we may add, Mr. Forster is much too thorough-going in his championship of Swift's good fame to content himself. We must refer our readers to the preface of his present volume for the long list of tributaries, noble, reverend, collegiate, lettered, and bibliopolic from whom Mr. Forster acknowledges aids, or access to aids, in the shape of original documents illustrative of his subject which had hitherto been buried from the public eye in private repositories. Of these a portion only was available for the present volume; enough, however, to whet our appetite for more in the volumes which will complete the work. If finished with the industry and literary discrimination with which it has been begun, this new "Life of Swift" will be the most valuable of the many services which Mr. Forster has already rendered to lovers of English literature. Swift has undergone the fate of all men whose characters have exhibited very pronounced features, rendered more pronounced, and more unpleasing, by age. He has been viewed at his worst. After his death, as before it, his genius has suffered sorrowful eclipse in misanthroPy and mania. There seems to have been something the matter with his head almost all through his life; and the final autopsy revealed hydrocephalus. But, as inveterate readers of Swift, we are grateful to Mr. Forster for reminding the world that in his better days there was something else than water on his brain, or misanthropy in his heart. Swift, the author, must ever rank amongst the perennial hon- | but there was something there she did not ours of English literature; and the work choose him to know. He was too candid before us, when completed, will, we are to attribute his rejection to this reason. confident, place Swift the man if not on He recognized her actual indifference, so lofty a moral pedestal as seems de- while he recalled with a certain degree of signed for him by his biographer - at painful gratitude the kindly emotion in her least in a position to engage a larger share voice as she spoke her adieux. "I supof human sympathy than has hitherto pose it will come all right," thought Galbeen accorded him by the common run of braith, with a dreary effort at manful, readers; a generation of whom it may be reasonable resignation. “I suppose the said, at the present day, that they know time will come when I shall think I have not Jonathan. had a narrow escape from a piece of folly, for it is about the last sort of marriage I ever contemplated; but it's infernally bitter to give it up at present. Still, I suppose it is better for me in the end. Might I not have repented had she said 'Yes' instead of 'No'?" But even while he strove to argue himself into composure, the recollection of Kate's great lustrous eyes, dewy with unshed tears, her expressive mouth, the rich red lips tremulous with kindly sympathy in the pain she inflicted, came back to him so vividly that he longed with a passion more ardent, more intense than he had ever felt before, to hold her in his arms and press his lips to hers. From Temple Bar. HER DEAREST FOE. CHAPTER XXXII. WHEN Hugh Galbraith turned away from the dwelling where he had known the most of pleasure that had ever brightened his somewhat sombre life, nearly five months before this stage of our story, he felt strangely sore and stunned, yet not indignant. He had always accepted the position of "a fellow women did not care about" with great philosophy, returning their indifference with full measure, yet The Grange, as it was familiarly called not the least resentment. But this practi--or Kirby Grange, to give the full appelcal proof of his own unattractiveness struck lation the old house of the Galbraiths, home. Worst of all, it lent the additional was even more desolate than Sir Hugh charm of being out of reach to the woman expected to find it. His boyish reminis who had so fascinated him. cences presented him with a lonely picture enough, but not equal to the reality. She was a lady in the fullest acceptation of the word; delicate, refined. The attendant circumstances of keeping a shop must be repulsive to her, yet she preferred battling with the difficulties of such a life to accepting the position, the ease, the security she might enjoy as his wife. Nevertheless he loved her the more for her unwavering honesty; and, as he walked miserably to and fro, seeking to while away the weary hours till it was time to go to bed (for there were no more trains that day), he cursed his own precipitancy in having thus suddenly cut himself off from all chance of any more play in the game on which he had staked so much. He had not diverged from his original route with any intention of proposing to Mrs. Temple; he only wished to satisfy his eyes with the sight of her, and gladden his heart with the sound of her voice; and then in a moment a wave of passion carried him over the border of polite seeming into the reality of confession! Yet, after all, he did not know what was beneath the cards. He could not for a moment believe that Kate Temple's past contained any page she need desire to obliterate or conceal, Yet he soon grew to be at home there. Galbraith, though essentially an aristocrat, was not in the least a fine gentleman; the plainest food, the simplest accommodation sufficed for him. His soldier-servant, a man in the stables, an old woman and her daughter to keep the house, formed an ample retinue. Some modern additions to such portions of the antiquated, mouldy furniture as could still be used made a few rooms habitable, and here Hugh Galbraith spent the summer, perhaps more agreeably than he would have done elsewhere. The land he had newly purchased gave him a good deal of employment. There were fresh leases to be granted on fresh terms; but some of his new acquisition he would keep in his own hands. Farming was exactly the employment that suited him. Moreover, Galbraith had been too long a poor gentleman, striving bravely and successfully to keep out of debt, not to have acquired a liking for money. To improve his property and add to it had become his day-dream. To this end he contented himself with a small personal expenditure, although when he first felt the unwonted excitement of comparative wealth he was | You are in no way shut in. The beauty tempted to many indulgences he scarcely and freedom of nature impress themselves cared for, the first taste of life as lord of upon you, and her awful power is out of the soil awakened in him a thirst to extend sight. The far-stretching purple distance, his domains. spread out in undulations, like billows arrested in their swell, gives the idea of a moorland ocean, with even a greater consciousness of liberty, for it needs no imprisoning ship; you may plunge yourself In the long summer days his greatest resource was a small schooner, in which he passed many a thoughtful hour, and which formed the canvas or groundwork on which Lady Styles embroidered her on any side over a boundless space of fiction of a "splendid yacht." bloom and fragrance towards the distant And now in front behold outspread, In short, Galbraith went wisely and sys-blue: tematically to work to effect his own cure; nay, he sometimes thought he had succeeded. Perhaps for a few extra busy days the haunting, aching regret would be silenced or kept at bay; but when he most fancied the ghost was laid, a breath of mignonette wafted from the garden, a gleam of sunset over the sea, the coo of the wood-pigeon, or even a wild easterly gale dashing the storm-tossed waters with giant wrath against the dark cliffs that stood up with savage strength against Neither Galbraith nor Upton were able to them anything, everything would touch quote Matthew Arnold, yet both felt the the electric chain of association and bring influence of the scene; the breezy, healthy, back those few weeks of strange compan-life-giving atmosphere sent them back sationship vividly before him. Again he isfied with themselves, and pleased with would see Kate's eyes, the exact colour of each other. which he never quite made out Colonel Upton's was a much lighter and earnest, tender, resentful- he knew them more complex nature than Galbraith's. in every change; and the rounded outlines" Enjoyment," it must be admitted, was of the pliant figure he had so often greed-"his end and way," and he had hitherto ily watched sinking down into attitudes of accomplished this end very successfully. natural, graceful repose, or rising into un- A little more of selfishness might have conscious stateliness-the restful man- made him odious; a trifle more lightner, the frank, unstudied talk-all would heartedness would have made him unincome back to him with painful intensity. teresting: but, for once, no ingredient preponderated, and a pleasanter, more popu lar fellow than Willie Upton never existed. No one would have thought of confiding any difficult or profound undertaking to his guidance, but of the pluck and dash that would carry him over any five-barred gate of obstacle at a bound he had plenty. When we add that he was Irish on his mother's side, the un-English facet of his nature is accounted for. dreamy, But on the whole he gained ground. He thought, he hoped, these fever fits were growing fewer and further between. To complete his cure he seized gladly upon the opportunity offered by his friend, being so far on his way northward, when he found Upton was the guest of Lady Styles, and soon succeeded in persuading him to forsake the gaieties of Weston for the ruder hospitalities of Kirby Grange, much to her ladyship's indignation. The friends descended from the dogcart which had conveyed them to and from It was September and the weather was the scene of their sport, ravenously hunglorious. Galbraith and his friend had gry and sufficiently tired to enjoy easyhad a long enjoyable day on the moors, chairs after a hearty repast in a window of which were a few miles inland from the the dining-room, from whence a glimpse of Grange. They had not "made bags "the sea glittering in the moonlight could worthy of notice in the local papers, but | be caught. Here they smoked for a few they had had sufficient sport to give zest minutes in silence; silence seldom lasted to their long tramp over the springy longer when Colonel Upton was present. heather. "I think," said he, slowly waving his The wide horizon of the "fells" imparts cigar, and watching the curls of smoke a sense of light and liberty which no rock-"I think a certain amount of roughness is bound valley, however beautiful, conveys. necessary to perfect enjoyment." "How?" "Well, life in our grade is very costly, once a wife is added to its encumbrances, - my first desire is to collect a little more of the old estate- that will take all my spare cash, and not bring much of a return for some time to come, so the furnishing may wait." After a pause, during which Upton hummed the "Sieur de Framboisie," Galbraith resumed, "I suppose I must marry some day; but at my age a fellow may count on seven or eight years' liberty." "Why, to-day has been almost, indeed altogether, perfect — and yet it was in the rough-and-ready style pardon my scant civility. But if we had had an array of keepers, and gillies, and ponies, and an elaborate luncheon awaiting us at a certain point, and several crack shots, and heaven knows what besides, it would have been infinitely less enjoyable than our quiet day with that queer specimen of a game-keeper. Our sandwiches and biscuit with a dash of Glenlivat in that deliciously cold "You may if you like, but you'll be apspring-water was a banquet for the gods! proaching the old boy' period. HowIt is a great mistake to paint the lily." ever, I daresay you will find a spouse with"I am glad you were pleased," said Gal-out much difficulty at any period. braith. are so desperately modest; you always affect to believe yourself unacceptable. Did you ever try to make yourself agreeable to any woman?" "Yes," returned Galbraith, unmoved, "and failed signally." 66 Be the sport what it may, I don't care to have the game beaten to my foot," resumed Upton. "I like to do my own stalking. By the way, Galbraith, I never saw such a queer, cold fellow as you are. If I had come into a fortune as you have, after having been in a hard-up condition all the days of my life, there would have been no holding me. You used to be livelier last winter; but you are as grave, ay, worse, now as in the old times. I don't think you are a shade jollier for having a house and estate and three thousand a year' or it is four?" You Upton laughed, but gave his friend a keen glance. "Then I am disposed to quote a scrap of verse my sister's little girl used to sing to me -Try, try, try again." "In due time," said Galbraith, gravely; "I imagine it would be rather a nuisance to have a wife very much in love with you; but I shall probably by-and-by find a woman of good family, with a sense of honour and some intelligence, who will have no objection to add her fortune to mine, and share both with me, and we shall jog along very comfortably.' "Good God! what an appalling pic "I don't think I am," said Galbraith, quietly. "There is so much in idea. A man can but have what he wants, and my wants are almost as easily provided with four hundred a year as four thousand. I tell you though, what I do enjoy, Upton; I like living in this old den; I like walk-ture!" cried Upton, throwing away the ing over the lands I have bought back; I like planning to buy more, and watching my opportunity to do so. But I sometimes think of Indian camp-life with regret." "I dare say you do. You are one of those fellows who are jolliest under difficulties. However, this might be made a nice place; four or five thousand in repairs, and two or three in furniture would make it very habitable. Then a well-bred wife with a pretty sister or two, to amuse your friends in the shooting-season and there you are." Galbraith smiled grimly. "If the future Lady Galbraith requires three or four thousand pounds' worth of furniture, she must supply them herself," said he. "What an extraordinary effect money has!" cried Upton. "I suppose if you had never come into your uncle's fortune, you would have been marrying some pretty nobody without a rap? Now you want more." end of his cigar, and pouring out a glass of claret. "Have you no warm blood in your veins, Galbraith? There is nothing half so delightful as being in love, except being fallen in love with. I intend my wife to be tremendously in love with me; and will do my best to keep her in that frame of mind, thinking at my sayings marvels of wit or wisdom, and my doings heroic action — and "I wish you success," interrupted Galbraith, drily. "If I ventured to form any special wish on such a subject, I should wish for a companionable wife." "Companionable," returned Upton, doubtfully; "I am afraid that's a little like wanting the moon. I have met heaps of charming, amusing, tormenting, delightful, good, bad, and indifferent women, but the companionable ones are few and far between; and when found are a long way at the far side of a certain age. Then, if a wife is companionable, she will find it hard to preserve the little illusions re and good works, and a deep regret that you should be so hard-hearted as to vote for the reduction of expenditure when poor men want employment and salaries so much. There is a philosophic sum specting her husband's genius and capa- the dashing, accomplished, pleasure seeking and giving hetaira for holiday life." "I do not know about the philosophy," said Galbraith; "but I know I hate blue women." "So do I; but then, my dear fellow, I "I should like a mixture of the two." want to convince you of your folly in ex"You are unconscionable; they can't pecting contradictory perfections in the unite; the mistake we moderns make is the same individual. Heaven preserve us attempt to smother the inevitable compen- from the logical well-instructed female sations of existence behind transparent who understands everything a deuced deal bogie-covered screens of propriety. The better than our noble selves. Nineteenthhetaire would not be such bad creatures century English woman! with all thy if they only had property. It makes faults I love thee still! But talking of an enormous difference in any morality politics—" whether you have to dip into another's pocket for your necessities and luxuries, or have the wherewithal to pay for them in your own." "Whether the hetaire had property of their own or not, I imagine they would do their best to clutch that of their ad mirers." "You were talking of women," interrupted Galbraith, in a sort of growl. 66 "Well, I think I have exhausted the subject. So to talk of politics. I heard you were going into Parliament?" "Oh, if you wish to reduce your importance to a vanishing point go in for independence." "I thought of doing so, and an absurd paragraph got into the papers, thanks to my sister, Lady Lorrimer, I fancy - there's "Well, that is an open question. I am a female politician for you, Upton ! — but thinking of companionable women. To when I came down here, and went about be companionable, a woman must have a among the people, I saw I had no chance certain amount of liberty both of thought till these shrewd, cool-headed north-counand action, which, owing to our insular trymen knew me better. I would not prejudices, we would rather not see our care to represent any other constituency. wives possess. There is something of the Besides, Upton, I am such an ignoramus sort abroad but I shall not vote for im-in politics. I want to feel my way a little porting it; but I ask you, Galbraith, is before I commit myself to be moved hiththere any creature on earth so uncom- er or thither by the minister I follow." panionable as a well-bred, well-educated good English woman, a creature you would trust your life to, who would quietly go through fire and water for any one she loved, or even believed she ought to love; but she has no more conception of the world as we know it, than one of her own babies (I put young girls out of the category). The realities of life must not be mentioned before her; the sources of some of a man's most trying difficulties, even if she really knows them, she must assume to be ignorant of. If one differs on religious points with the tutelar priest whose ministry she attends, she either tries to convince you by the funniest little sentimentalities, or tells you she will pray for you, or does it without telling, if she is very much in earnest. By the way, it's a capital means of keeping yourself in her mind's eye to be horribly irreligious if you want to make an impression. Then politics. What are her views? A sort of rose-colored conservatism mixed with faith "Meantime, I am quite content as I am, if I am only left alone. Thank God, I have no near neighbours; but since the people began to come down to the country I have had four or five invitations. I have refused them, but I shall be considered a sulky, ungracious fellow." "Of course, and your chances of picking up that companionable woman you are on the lookout for considerably diminished." Galbraith nodded with a kindly, smiling look in his eyes, as though his friend's chaff was acceptable because of the chaffer. "I tell you what, Galbraith: you had better leave them all behind. I mean the hospitable families, and come with me. I am engaged to pay a visit in H-shire about the seventh. Capital house, firstrate peasant-shooting; man of the house |