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been greatly injured and cheated and the Queen of Prussia, the by more than I could now enum- King-maker and the children in erate. There ends my scaling the Tower. And then, having of the hill of virtues.

prophesied my early death and Of my sins it behoves me not luminous or lurid career, he to speak, lest I should fall into filled my two small hands with the grotesque and delightful almond - drops and toffee, and attitude of the sailor I once sent me away, a being henceheard in London make his pub- forth of something more than lic confession to a Salvation common clay. Army circle.

From that hour my position "My brothers, I am a miser- in Lysterby was improved. I able sinner. In Australia I was never even slapped again, murdered a man; I drank con- though I had had the stupentinually, I thieved, I ran after dous good luck to see, unseen harlots, and led the life of de- myself, the lay sister who had bauchery. Oh, my friends, flogged me go into a cupboard pray for me, for now I am on the staircase, whose door, converted and know Jesus. I with the key on the outside, am one of the just, may I re- opened outward, and crawling

But wicked and de- along on hands and knees, , bauched and drunken as I was, reached the door in time to there were lots more out there lock her in. I was also known much worse than I.” In sum to have climbed fruit-trees, when ming up our errors and frailties, I robbed enough unripe fruit to it is always a kindly comfort make all the little ones ill. Yet offered our conceit to think that nobody beat me, and I was let there are on all sides of us “lots off with a sharp admonishment. more much worse than we.” I went my unruly way, secretly Unless our pride chooses to protected by the bishop's adtake refuge in the opposite re- miration. flection, so we prefer to glory in If I did not amend, and loved being much worse than others. none the more my tyrants, their

And so ends my single inter- rule being less drastic, I had view with an eminent ecclesias less occasion to fly out at them. tic. He kissed me repeatedly, Besides, semi - starvation had and stroked my hair while I subdued me for the while. I munched my plum-cake on his suffered continually from abknee. He questioned me, and scesses and earache, and spent discovered my passionate inter- most of my time in the infirest in Napoleon and Josephine mary, dreaming and reading :

(To be continued.)

main so.

MEN WHO HAVE KEPT A DIARY.

“ Velut minuta magno Deprensa navis in mari vesaniente vento.'

man.

“THERE is nothing, sir, too who, during their daily toilet little for so little a creature as before the glass, are more con

It is by studying little cerned with the reflections of things that we attain the great the room than of themselves. art of having as little misery There are, again, set diarists and as much happiness as pos- who masquerade in domino. sible.” This pronouncement by There are diarists for a purpose, the most complete hero of the and diarists for no purpose. most complete diarist known There are diarists, once more, strikes the keynote of all memor- of “Mémoires à servir,” mainly able diaries. “The great thing interesting from their opporto be recorded," observes Drtunities. In perusing such we Johnson on another occasion, may well remember the saying “is the state of your own mind, of George Eliot that "curiosity and you should write down becomes the more eager from everything that you remember, the incompleteness of the first for you cannot judge at first information.” To such curiosity what is good and bad." These anecdotal remembrancers, from unpremeditated self-confidences the weightier type of armchair

the confessions of individual- historian to the lighter speciity-form the charm of " men men of after-dinner raconteur, who have kept a diary,”—the inherently respond. For good spell of

anecdote is to good literature

what wit is to wisdom, repartee “The little great, the infinite small thing”

to conversation, and bouquet to

wine. It is at once condensed the appeal of Truth en déshabillé. and indicative. It interprets "In this glass," preached At- life while it exhibits the bric-àterbury of Lady Cutt's Diary, brac of mannerism and man" she every day dressed her

The main qualification mind.” It is just this “dress- for every diarist none the less ing of the mind” that makes remains that of the legal witness. diaries such interesting human His evidence must be first-hand documents. But, when we par- and absolutely sincere. And ticularise, we find that very few through all the varieties of tensurviving publications wholly dency and form runs, even if fulfil these conditions of privacy subconsciously, the psychologiand candour. Boswell himself cal thread. For us the workwas recommended by his dicta- ings of the diarist's own mind tor to retain some posthumous exercise a paramount fascinafriend for the cremation of his tion and restrict our choice, so own diary. There are diarists that in this regard we shall

ners.

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afterwards instance two collec- are among his redeeming feattions of correspondence which ures. “With my eyes mighty signally reveal character,-in- weary and my head full of care formal diaries before whose how to get my accounts and 'glass” the letter-writer truly business settled against my “dresses” his own soul. Did journey, home to supper and space permit, we might have bed,” he writes in the face of mounted higher. For all an- his infirmity. So is fortitude. nalists and essayists are born There is a genuine pathos in diarists or the reverse. Herodo- the words which close the diary tus is a diarist by nature; so, when blindness was threatening if less primitively, is Tacitus; the little Secretary to the Adso eminently are Froissart and miralty with its terrors. From Burnet; so, after his manner, is henceforth he “must be conMacaulay. Not so are Thucy- tented to set down no more dides or Clarendon or Gibbon. than is fit for them and all the Montaigne is a diarist; Bacon, world to know; or if there be the opposite. It is a difference anything, I must endeavour to of temperaments—the difference keep a margin in my book between the authors of the open, to add here and there a

Spectator' and the author of note in shorthand with my own the Rambler,' between Gold- hand. And so I betake myself smith and Smollett, Sterne and to that course which is almost Fielding. Rousseau is a diarist as much as to see myself go even in his so-called “Philos- into my grave: for which, and ophy’; Voltaire, a “Philoso- all the discomforts that will pher” even in his ‘Notes sur accompany my being blind, the les Anglois.'

good God prepare me!" Sturdy, If ever a man was designed stoical—nay, in a sense piousto keep a diary, it was Pepys. petit maître, for all his foibles He is naïve and communicative and frailties ! His periodical to a fault. Seated in his own headache of repentance is folconfessional, he unbosoms his lowed by the periodical draught memory and absolves his con- of peccadillo. Though he has science. The journal was com no deep sense of life's mystery, posed in cipher. Mrs Pepys he does realise his accountability could have made nothing of it; to God—a prosaic accountabilit was never apparently meant ity like those official audits that for perusal. This typical bour- so taxed his diligence. He geois of his day, fussy and never whimpers or makes expompous, petty and busy body- cuse. Nor does he brave it out, ing, regular in his irregularities like that German colonel whom as in his expenditure, thrifty, Königsmarck suborned to stab vain, and passionately inquisi- Mr Thynne, and who averred, tive, would retire into his sanc as he marched to execution, tum, produce the treasured that he did not care for death pages, and find his relief in the a rush, and that he hoped "God truthful industry of his chron- would treat him like a gentleicle. For truth and industry man." No, Pepys only regrets

MEN WHO HAVE KEPT A DIARY.

“ Velut minuta magno Deprensa navis in mari vesaniente vento.'

man.

and you

men

“THERE is nothing, sir, too who, during their daily toilet little for so little a creature as before the glass, are more con

It is by studying little cerned with the reflections of things that we attain the great the room than of themselves. art of having as little misery There are, again, set diarists and as much happiness as pos- who masquerade in domino. sible.” This pronouncement by There are diarists for a purpose, the most complete hero of the and diarists for no purpose. most complete diarist known There are diarists, once more, strikes the keynote of all memor- of “Mémoires à servir,” mainly able diaries. “The great thing interesting from their opporto be recorded,” observes Dr tunities.

observes Dr tunities. In perusing such we Johnson on another occasion, may well remember the saying “is the state of your own mind, of George Eliot that "curiosity

should write down becomes the more eager from everything that you remember, the incompleteness of the first for you cannot judge at first information.” To such curiosity what is good and bad.” These

These anecdotal remembrancers, from unpremeditated self-confidences the weightier type of armchair -the confessions of individual- historian to the lighter speciity-form the charm of “ men of after-dinner raconteur, who have kept a diary,”—the inherently respond. For good spell of

anecdote is to good literature

what wit is to wisdom, repartee The little great, the infinite small thing".

to conversation, and bouquet to

wine. It is at once condensed the appeal of Truth en déshabillé. and indicative. It interprets “In this glass,” preached At- life while it exhibits the bric-àterbury of Lady Cutt's Diary, brac of mannerism and man" she every day dressed her

ners. The main qualification mind.” It is just this “dress- for every diarist none the less ing of the mind” that makes remains that of the legal witness. diaries such interesting human His evidence must be first-hand documents. But, when we par- and absolutely sincere. And ticularise, we find that very few through all the varieties of tensurviving publications wholly dency and form runs, even if fulfil these conditions of privacy subconsciously, the psychologiand candour. Boswell himself cal thread. For us the workwas recommended by his dicta- ings of the diarist's own mind tor to retain some posthumous exercise a paramount fascinafriend for the cremation of his tion and restrict our choice, so own diary. There are diarists that in this regard we shall

ures.

afterwards instance two collec- are among his redeeming feattions of correspondence which “With my eyes mighty signally reveal character,-in-weary and my head full of care formal diaries before whose how to get my accounts and “glass” the letter-writer truly business settled against my “ dresses his own soul. Did journey, home to supper and space permit, we might have bed,” he writes in the face of mounted higher. For all an- his infirmity. So is fortitude. nalists and essayists are born There is a genuine pathos in diarists or the reverse. Herodo- the words which close the diary tus is a diarist by nature; so, when blindness was threatening if less primitively, is Tacitus; the little Secretary to the Adso eminently are Froissart and miralty with its terrors. From Burnet; so, after his manner, is henceforth he “must be conMacaulay. Not so are Thucy- tented to set down no more dides or Clarendon or Gibbon. than is fit for them and all the Montaigne is a diarist; Bacon, world to know; or if there be the opposite. It is a difference anything, I must endeavour to of temperaments—the difference keep a margin in my book between the authors of the open, to add here and there a Spectator' and the author of note in shorthand with my own the “Rambler,' between Gold- hand. And so I betake myself smith and Smollett, Sterne and to that course which is almost Fielding. Rousseau is a diarist as much as to see myself go even in his so-called “Philos- into my grave: for which, and ophy'; Voltaire, a “Philoso- all the discomforts that will pher” even in his “Notes sur accompany my being blind, the les Anglois.'

good God prepare me!” Sturdy, If ever a man was designed stoical—nay, in a sense pious— to keep a diary, it was Pepys. petit maître, for all his foibles He is naïve and communicative and frailties ! His periodical to a fault.

Seated in his own headache of repentance is folconfessional, he unbosoms his lowed by the periodical draught memory and absolves his con- of peccadillo. Though he has science. The journal was com no deep sense of life's mystery, posed in cipher. Mrs Pepys he does realise his accountability could have made nothing of it; to God-a prosaic accountabilit was never apparently meant ity like those official audits that for perusal. This typical bour- số taxed his diligence. He geois of his day, fussy and never whimpers or makes expompous, petty and busy body- cuse. Nor does he brave it out, ing, regular in his irregularities like that German colonel whom as in his expenditure, thrifty, Königsmarck suborned to stab vain, and passionately inquisi- Mr Thynne, and who averred, tive, would retire into his sanc as he marched to execution, tum, produce the treasured that he did not care for death pages, and find his relief in the a rush, and that he hoped “God truthful industry of his chron- would treat him like a gentleicle. For truth and industry man. No, Pepys only regrets

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