Buttheparoxysmpassed。Callinguponthecombinedforcesofheavenandhelltosustainhiminhistrouble，herequestedhissquad，asmantoman，toinformhimofthereasonwhytoallappearancetheyweredispensingwithhisservicesanddrillingthemselves。
　　Atthismoment"Columbus"barkedagain，andtheexplanationcametohim。
　　"Pleasegoaway，sir，"herequestedme。"HowcanIexercisemymenwiththatdogofyoursinterferingeveryfiveminutes？"
　　Itwasnotonlyonthatoccasion。Ithappenedatothertimes。Thedogseemedtounderstandandtakeapleasureinit。Sometimesmeetingasoldier，walkingwithhissweetheart，Columbus，frombehindmylegs，wouldbarksuddenly。Immediatelythemanwouldletgothegirlandproceed，involuntarily，toperformmilitarytricks。
　　TheWarOfficeauthoritiesaccusedmeofhavingtrainedthedog。I
　　hadnottrainedhim：thatwashisnaturalvoice。IsuggestedtotheWarOfficeauthoritiesthatinsteadofquarrellingwithmydogfortalkinghisownlanguage，theyshouldtraintheirsergeantstouseEnglish。
　　Theywouldnotseeit。Unpleasantnesswasintheair，and，livingwhereIdidatthetime，IthoughtitbesttopartwithColumbus。I
　　couldseewhattheWarOfficewasdrivingat，andIdidnotdesirethatresponsibilityfortheinefficiencyoftheBritishArmyshouldbelaidatmydoor。
　　Sometwentyyearsagowe，inLondon，werepassingthroughariotousperiod，andacallwasmadetolaw—abidingcitizenstoenrolthemselvesasspecialconstables。Iwasyoung，andthehopeoftroubleappealedtomemorethanitdoesnow。Incompanywithsomefiveorsixhundredothermoreorlessrespectablecitizens，IfoundmyselfoneSundaymorninginthedrillyardoftheAlbanyBarracks。
　　Itwastheopinionoftheauthoritiesthatwecouldguardourhomesandprotectourwivesandchildrenbetteriffirstofallwelearnedtorollour"eyesright"orleftatthegivenwordofcommand，andtowalkwithourthumbsstuckout。Accordinglyadrillsergeantwasappointedtoinstructusonthesepoints。Hecameoutofthecanteen，wipinghismouthandflickinghisleg，accordingtorule，withtheregulationcane。But，asheapproachedus，hisexpressionchanged。Wewerestout，pompous—lookinggentlemen，themajorityofus，infrockcoatsandsilkhats。Thesergeantwasamanwithasenseofthefitnessofthings。Theideaofshoutingandswearingatusfellfromhim：andthatgonethereseemedtobenohappymediumlefttohim。Thestiffnessdepartedfromhisback。Hemetuswithadefferentialattitude，andspoketousinthelanguageofsocialintercourse。
　　"Goodmorning，gentlemen，"saidthesergeant。
　　"Goodmorning，"wereplied：andtherewasapause。
　　Thesergeantfidgetteduponhisfeet。Wewaited。
　　"Well，now，gentlemen，"saidthesergeant，withapleasantsmile，"whatdoyousaytofallingin？"
　　Weagreedtofallin。Heshowedushowtodoit。Hecastacriticaleyealongthebackofourrearline。
　　"Alittlefurtherforward，numberthree，ifyoudon’tmind，sir，"hesuggested。
　　Numberthree，whowasanimportant—lookinggentleman，steppedforward。
　　Thesergeantcasthiscriticaleyealongthefrontofthefirstline。
　　"Alittlefurtherback，ifyoudon’tmind，sir，"hesuggested，addressingthethirdgentlemanfromtheend。
　　"Can’t，"explainedthethirdgentleman，"muchasIcandotokeepwhereIam。"
　　Thesergeantcasthiscriticaleyebetweenthelines。
　　"Ah，"saidthesergeant，"alittlefull—chested，someofus。Wewillmakethedistanceanotherfoot，ifyouplease，gentlemen。"
　　Inpleasantmanner，liketothis，thedrillproceeded。
　　"Nowthen，gentlemen，shallwetryalittlewalk？Quickmarch！
　　Thankyou，gentlemen。Sorrytotroubleyou，butitmaybenecessarytorun——forwardImean，ofcourse……Soifyoureallydonotmind，wewillnowdothedoublequick。Halt！Andifnexttimeyoucankeepalittlemoreinline——ithasamoreimposingappearance，ifyouunderstandme。Thebreathingcomeswithpractice。"
　　Ifthethingmustbedoneatall，whyshoulditnotbedoneinthisway？Whyshouldnotthesergeantaddressthenewrecruitspolitely：
　　"Nowthen，youyoungchaps，areyouallready？Don’thurryyourselves：noneedtomakehardworkofwhatshouldbeapleasuretoallofus。That’sright，that’sverygoodindeed——consideringyouareonlynovices。Butthereisstillsomethingtobedesiredinyourattitude，PrivateBully—boy。Youwillexcusemybeingpersonal，butareyouknock—kneednaturally？Orcouldyou，withaneffort，doyouthink，contrivetogiveyourselflesstheappearanceofamarionettewhosestringshavebecomeloose？Thankyou，thatisbetter。Theselittlethingsappeartrivial，Iknow，but，afterall，wemayaswelltryandlookourbest—
　　"Don’tyoulikeyourboots，PrivateMontmorency？Oh，Ibegyourpardon。Ithoughtfromthewayyouwerebendingdownandlookingatthemthatperhapstheirappearancewasdissatisfyingtoyou。Mymistake。
　　"Areyousufferingfromindigestion，mypoorfellow？ShallIgetyoualittlebrandy？Itisn’tindigestion。Thenwhat’sthematterwithit？Whyareyoutryingtohideit？It’snothingtobeashamedof。
　　We’veallgotone。Letitcomeforwardman。Let’sseeit。"
　　Havingsucceeded，withafewsuchkindlywords，ingettinghislineintoorder，hewouldproceedtorecommendhealthyexercise。
　　"Shoulderarms！Good，gentlemen，verygoodforabeginning。Yetstill，ifImaybecritical，notperfect。Thereismoreinthisthingthanyoumightimagine，gentlemen。MayIpointouttoPrivateHenryThompsonthatamusketcarriedacrosstheshoulderatrightanglesisapttoinconveniencethegentlemanbehind。Evenfromthepointofviewofhisowncomfort，IfeelsurethatPrivateThompsonwoulddobettertofollowtheusualcustominthismatter。
　　"IwouldalsosuggesttoPrivateSt。Leonardthatwearenotheretopracticetheartofbalancingaheavymusketontheoutstretchedpalmofthehand。PrivateSt。Leonard’sperformancewiththemusketisdecidedlyclever。Butitisnotwar。
　　"Believeme，gentlemen，thisthinghasbeencarefullyworkedout，andnoimprovementislikelytoresultfromindividualeffort。Letourideabeuniformity。Itismonotonous，butitissafe。Now，then，gentlemen，onceagain。"
　　Thedrillyardwouldbeconvertedintoasourceofinnocentdelighttothousands。"Officerandgentleman"wouldbecomeaphraseofmeaning。Ipresenttheidea，forwhatitmaybeworth，withmycompliments，toPallMall。
　　Thefaultofthemilitarymanisthathestudiestoomuch，readstoomuchhistory，isoverreflective。If，instead，hewouldlookabouthimmorehewouldnoticethatthingsarechanging。SomeonehastoldtheBritishmilitarymanthatWaterloowaswonupontheplayingfieldsofEton。SohegoestoEtonandplays。OneofthesedayshewillbecalledupontofightanotherWaterloo：andafterwards——whenitistoolate——theywillexplaintohimthatitwaswonnotupontheplayfieldbutintheclassroom。
　　FromthemoundontheoldWaterlooplainonecanformanotionofwhatbattles，underformerconditions，musthavebeen。TheotherbattlefieldsofEuropearerapidlydisappearing：usefulDutchcabbages，asCarlylewouldhavepointedoutwithjustifiablesatisfaction，hidingthetheatreofman’schildishfolly。Youfind，generallyspeaking，cobblershappilyemployedincobblingshoes，womengossippingcheerfullyoverthewashtubonthespotwhereahundredyearsago，accordingtotheguide—book，athousandmendressedinblueandathousandmendressedinredrushedtogetherlikequarrelsomefox—terriers，andworriedeachothertodeath。
　　ButthefieldofWaterlooislittlechanged。Theguide，whosegrandfatherwaspresentatthebattle——quiteanextraordinarynumberofgrandfathersmusthavefoughtatWaterloo：theremusthavebeenwholeregimentscomposedofgrandfathers——canpointouttoyouthegroundacrosswhicheverychargewasdelivered，canshowyoueveryridge，stillexisting，behindwhichtheinfantrycrouched。Thewholebusinesswasbeganandfinishedwithinaspacelittlelargerthanasquaremile。Onecanunderstandtheadvantagethentobederivedfromtheperfectmovingofthemilitarymachine;theusesoftheechelon，thepurposesofthelinkedbattalion，themanipulationofcentre，leftwingandrightwing。Thenitmayhavebeenworthwhile—
　　—ifwarbeeverworththewhile——whichgrownmenofsensearebeginningtodoubt——towastetwoyearsofasoldier’straining，teachinghimthegoose—step。Inthetwentiethcentury，teachingsoldierstheevolutionsoftheThirtyYears’Warisaboutassensibleasitwouldbeloadingouriron—cladswithcanvas。
　　IfollowedonceacompanyofVolunteersacrossBlackfriarsBridgeontheirwayfromSouthwarktotheTemple。AtthebottomofLudgateHillthecommandingofficer，ayoungbutconscientiousgentleman，ordered"Leftwheel！"Atoncethevanguardturneddownanarrowalley——Iforgetitsname——whichwouldhaveledthetroopintothepurlieusofWhitefriars，where，inallprobability，theywouldhavebeenlostforever。Thewholecompanyhadtobehalted，right—about—
　　faced，andretiredahundredyards。Thentheorder"Quickmarch！"
　　wasgiven。ThevanguardshotacrossLudgateCircus，andweremakingfortheMeatMarket。
　　Atthispointthatyoungcommandingofficergaveupbeingamilitarymanandtalkedsense。
　　"Notthatway，"heshouted："upFleetStreetandthroughMiddleTempleLane。"
　　Thenwithoutfurthertroublethearmyofthefuturewentuponitsway。
　　OUGHTSTORIESTOBETRUE？
　　Therewasonceuponatimeacharmingyounglady，possessedofmuchtaste，whowasaskedbyheranxiousparent，theyearspassingandfamilyexpenditurenotdecreasing，whichofthenumerousandeligibleyoungmenthenpayingcourttohershelikedthebest。Shereplied，thatwasherdifficulty;shecouldnotmakeuphermindwhichshelikedthebest。Theywereallsonice。Shecouldnotpossiblyselectonetotheexclusionofalltheothers。Whatshewouldhavelikedwouldhavebeentomarrythelot;butthat，shepresumed，wasimpracticable。
　　IfeelIresemblethatyounglady，notsomuchincharmandbeautyasinindecisionofmind，whenthequestionisthatofmyfavouriteauthorormyfavouritebook。Itisasifonewereaskedone’sfavouritefood。Therearetimeswhenonefanciesaneggwithone’stea。Onotheroccasionsonedreamsofakipper。To—dayoneclamoursforlobsters。To—morrowonefeelsoneneverwishestoseealobsteragain。Onedeterminestosettledown，foratime，toadietofbreadandmilkandricepudding。AskedsuddenlytosaywhetherIpreferredicestosoup，orbeef—steaktocaviare，Ishouldbecompletelynonplussed。
　　Theremaybereaderswhocareforonlyoneliterarydiet。Iamapersonofgrossappetites，requiringmanyauthorstosatisfyme。
　　TherearemoodswhenthesavagestrengthoftheBrontesistersiscompanionabletome。Onerejoicesintheunrelievedgloomof"WutheringHeights，"asintheloweringskiesofastormyautumn。
　　Perhapspartofthemarvelofthebookcomesfromtheknowledgethattheauthoresswasaslight，delicateyounggirl。Onewonderswhatherfutureworkwouldhavebeen，hadshelivedtogainawiderexperienceoflife;orwasitwellforherfamethatnaturetookthepensosoonfromherhand？HersuppressedvehemencemayhavebeenbettersuitedtothosetangledYorkshirebywaysthantothemoreopen，cultivatedfieldsoflife。
　　Thereisnotmuchsimilaritybetweenthetwobooks，yetwhenrecallingEmilyBrontemythoughtsalwaysrunontoOliveSchreiner。
　　Here，again，wasayounggirlwiththevoiceofastrongman。OliveSchreiner，morefortunate，haslived;butIdoubtifshewilleverwriteabookthatwillremindusofherfirst。"TheStoryofanAfricanFarm"isnotaworktoberepeated。Wehaveadvancedinliteratureoflate。Icanwellrememberthestormofindignationwithwhichthe"AfricanFarm"wasreceivedbyMrs。Grundyandherthennumerous，butnowhappilydiminishing，school。Itwasabookthatwastobekeptfromthehandsofeveryyoungmanandwoman。Butthehandsoftheyoungmenandwomenstretchedoutandgraspedit，totheirhelp。Itisacuriousidea，thisofMrs。Grundy’s，thattheyoungmanandwomanmustneverthink——thatallliteraturethatdoesanythingmorethanechotheconventionsmustbehiddenaway。
　　ThentherearetimeswhenIlovetogallopthroughhistoryonSirWalter’sbroomstick。AtotherhoursitispleasanttositinconversewithwiseGeorgeEliot。FromhergardenterraceIlookdownonLoamshireanditscommonplacepeople;whileinherquiet，deepvoiceshetellsmeofthehiddenheartsthatbeatandthrobbeneaththesevelveteenjacketsandlacefalls。
　　WhocanhelplovingThackeray，wittiest，gentlestofmen，inspiteofthefaintsuspicionofsnobbishnessthatclingstohim？Thereissomethingpatheticinthegoodman’shorrorofthissnobbishness，towhichhehimselfwasavictim。Mayitnothavebeenanaffectation，bornunconsciouslyofself—consciousness？Hisheroesandheroinesmustneedsbeallfinefolk，fitcompanyforladyandgentlemenreaders。Tohimtheliverywastoooftentheman。UnderhisstuffedcalvesevenJeamesdelaPluchehimselfstooduponthelegsofaman，butThackeraycouldneverseedeeperthanthesilkstockings。
　　ThackeraylivedanddiedinClubland。OnefeelsthattheworldwasboundedforhimbyTempleBarontheeastandParkLaneonthewest;
　　butwhattherewasgoodinClublandheshowedus，andforthesakeofthegreatgentlemenandsweetladiesthathiskindlyeyesfoundinthatnarrowregion，nottoooverpeopledwithgreatgentlemenandsweetwomen，letushonourhim。
　　"TomJones，""PeregrinePickle，"and"TristramShandy"arebooksamanisthebetterforreading，ifhereadthemwisely。Theyteachhimthatliterature，tobealivingforce，mustdealwithallsidesoflife，andthatlittlehelpcomestousfromthatsillypretenceofoursthatweareperfectinallthings，leadingperfectlives，thatonlythevillainofthestoryeverdeviatesfromthepathofrectitude。
　　Thisisapointthatneedstobeconsideredbyboththemakersandthebuyersofstories。Ifliteratureistoberegardedsolelyastheamusementofanidlehour，thenthelessrelationshipithastolifethebetter。Lookingintoatruthfulmirrorofnaturewearecompelledtothink;andwhenthoughtcomesinatthewindowself—
　　satisfactiongoesoutbythedoor。Shouldanovelorplaycallustoponderupontheproblemsofexistence，orlureusfromthedustyhighroadoftheworld，forawhile，intothepleasantmeadowsofdreamland？Ifonlythelatter，thenletourheroesandourheroinesbenotwhatmenandwomenare，butwhattheyshouldbe。LetAngelinabealwaysspotlessandEdwinalwaystrue。Letvirtueevertriumphovervillainyinthelastchapter;andletusassumethatthemarriageserviceanswersallthequestionsoftheSphinx。
　　Verypleasantarethesefairytaleswheretheprinceisalwaysbraveandhandsome;wheretheprincessisalwaysthebestandmostbeautifulprincessthateverlived;whereoneknowsthewickedpeopleataglancebytheiruglinessandill—temper，mistakesbeingthusrenderedimpossible;wherethegoodfairiesare，bynature，morepowerfulthanthebad;wheregloomypathsleadevertofairpalaces;
　　wherethedragonisevervanquished;andwherewell—behavedhusbandsandwivescanrelyuponlivinghappilyeverafterwards。"Theworldistoomuchwithus，lateandsoon。"Itiswisetoslipawayfromitattimestofairyland。But，alas，wecannotliveinfairyland，andknowledgeofitsgeographyisoflittlehelptousonourreturntotheruggedcountryofreality。
　　Arenotbothbranchesofliteratureneedful？Byallmeansletusdream，onmidsummernights，offondloversledthroughdeviouspathstohappinessbyPuck;ofvirtuousdukes——onefindssuchinfairyland;
　　offatesubduedbyfaithandgentleness。Butmaywenotalso，inourmoreserioushumours，findsatisfactioninthinkingwithHamletorCoriolanus？MaynotbothDickensandZolahavetheirboothsinVanityFair？Ifliteratureistobeahelptous，aswellasapastime，itmustdealwiththeuglyaswellaswiththebeautiful;itmustshowusourselves，notaswewishtoappear，butasweknowourselvestobe。ManhasbeendescribedasaanimalwithaspirationsreachinguptoHeavenandinstinctsrooted——elsewhere。Isliteraturetoflatterhim，orrevealhimtohimself？
　　Oflivingwritersitisnotsafe，Isuppose，tospeakexcept，perhaps，ofthosewhohavebeenwithussolongthatwehavecometoforgettheyarenotofthepast。HasjusticeeverbeendonetoOuida’sundoubtedgeniusbyourshallowschoolofcriticism，alwaysverycleverindiscoveringfaultsasobviousaspimplesonafineface？Herguardsmen"toy"withtheirfood。HerhorseswintheDerbythreeyearsrunning。HerwickedwomenthrowguineapeachesfromthewindowsoftheStarandGarterintotheThamesatRichmond。Thedistancebeingaboutthreehundredandfiftyyards，itisagoodthrow。Well，well，booksarenotmadeworthreadingbytheabsenceofabsurdities。Ouidapossessesstrength，tenderness，truth，passion;andthesebequalitiesinawritercapableofcarryingmanymorefaultsthanOuidaisburdenedwith。Butthatisthemethodofourlittlecriticism。ItviewsanartistasGulliversawtheBrobdingnagladies。Itistoosmalltoseethemintheirentirety：
　　amoleorawartabsorbsallitsvision。
　　WhywasnotGeorgeGissingmorewidelyread？Iffaithfulnesstolifewerethekeytoliterarysuccess，Gissing’ssaleswouldhavebeencountedbythemillioninsteadofbythehundred。
　　HaveMarkTwain’sliteraryqualities，apartaltogetherfromhishumour，beenrecognisedinliterarycirclesastheyoughttohavebeen？"HuckFinn"wouldbeagreatworkweretherenotalaughinitfromcovertocover。AmongtheIndiansandsomeothersavagetribesthefactthatamemberofthecommunityhaslostoneofhissensesmakesgreatlytohisadvantage;heisthenregardedasasuperiorperson。SoamongaschoolofAnglo—Saxonreaders，itisnecessarytoaman，ifhewouldgainliterarycredit，thatheshouldlackthesenseofhumour。Oneortwocuriousmodernexamplesoccurtomeofliterarysuccesssecuredchieflybythisfailing。
　　Alltheseauthorsaremyfavourites;butsuchcatholictasteisheldnowadaystobenotaste。OneistoldthatifonelovesShakespeare，onemustofnecessityhateIbsen;thatonecannotappreciateWagnerandtolerateBeethoven;thatifweadmitanymeritinDore，weareincapableofunderstandingWhistler。HowcanIsaywhichismyfavouritenovel？Icanonlyaskmyselfwhichlivesclearestinmymemory，whichisthebookIruntomoreoftenthantoanotherinthatpleasanthalfhourbeforethedinner—bell，when，withallapologiestogoodMr。Smiles，itisuselesstothinkofwork。
　　Ifind，onexamination，thatmy"DavidCopperfield"ismoredilapidatedthananyothernoveluponmyshelves。AsIturnitsdog—
　　earedpages，readingthefamiliarheadlines"Mr。Micawberindifficulties，""Mr。Micawberinprison，""IfallinlovewithDora，"
　　"Mr。Barkisgoesoutwiththetide，""Mychildwife，""Traddlesinanestofroses"——pagesofmyownliferecurtome;somanyofmysorrows，somanyofmyjoysarewoveninmymindwiththischapterortheother。Thatday——howwellIrememberitwhenIreadof"David’s"
　　wooing，butDora’sdeathIwascarefultoskip。Poor，prettylittleMrs。Copperfieldatthegate，holdingupherbabyinherarms，isalwaysassociatedinmymemorywithachild’scry，longlistenedfor。
　　Ifoundthebook，facedownwardsonachair，weeksafterwards，notmovedfromwhereIhadhastilylaidit。
　　Oldfriends，allofyou，howmanytimeshaveInotslippedawayfrommyworriesintoyourpleasantcompany！Peggotty，youdearsoul，thesightofyourkindeyesissogoodtome。Ourmutualfriend，Mr。
　　CharlesDickens，isprone，weknow，justeversoslightlytogush。
　　Goodfellowthatheis，hecanseenoflawinthoseheloves，butyou，dearlady，ifyouwillpermitmetocallyoubyanamemuchabused，hehasdrawnintruecolours。Iknowyouwell，withyourbigheart，yourquicktemper，yourhomely，humanwaysofthought。Youyourselfwillneverguessyourworth——howmuchtheworldisbetterforsuchasyou！Youthinkofyourselfasofacommonplaceperson，usefulonlyforthemakingofpastry，thedarningofstockings，andifaman——notayoungman，withonlydimhalf—openedeyes，butamanwhomlifehadmadekeentoseethebeautythatlieshiddenbeneathplainfaces——weretokneelandkissyourred，coarsehand，youwouldbemuchastonished。Buthewouldbeawiseman，Peggotty，knowingwhatthingsamanshouldtakecarelessly，andforwhatthingsheshouldthankGod，whohasfashionedfairnessinmanyforms。
　　Mr。WilkinsMicawber，andyou，mostexcellentoffaithfulwives，Mrs。
　　EmmaMicawber，toyouIalsoraisemyhat。Howoftenhastheexampleofyourphilosophysavedme，whenI，likewise，havesufferedunderthetemporarypressureofpecuniaryliabilities;whenthesunofmyprosperity，too，hassunkbeneaththedarkhorizonoftheworld——inshort，whenI，also，havefoundmyselfinatightcorner。IhaveaskedmyselfwhatwouldtheMicawbershavedoneinmyplace。AndI
　　haveansweredmyself。Theywouldhavesatdowntoadishoflamb’sfry，cookedandbreadedbythedefthandsofEmma，followedbyabrewofpunch，concoctedbythebeamingWilkins，andhaveforgottenalltheirtroubles，forthetimebeing。Whereupon，seeingfirstthatsufficientsmallchangewasinmypocket，Ihaveenteredthenearestrestaurant，andhavetreatedmyselftoarepastofsuchsumptuousnessastheaforesaidsmallchangewouldcommand，emergingfromthatrestaurantstrongerandmorefitforbattle。Andlo！thesunofmyprosperityhaspeepedatmefromoverthecloudswithaslywink，asiftosay"Cheerup;Iamonlyroundthecorner。"
　　Cheery，elasticMr。andMrs。Micawber，howwouldhalftheworldfacetheirfatebutbythehelpofakindly，shallownaturesuchasyours？
　　Ilovetothinkthatyoursorrowscanbedrownedinnothingmoreharmfulthanabowlofpunch。Here’stoyou，Emma，andtoyou，Wilkins，andtothetwins！
　　Mayyouandsuchchildlikefolktriplightlyoverthestonesuponyourpath！Maysomethingeverturnupforyou，mydears！MaytherainoflifeeverfallasAprilshowersuponyoursimplebaldhead，Micawber！
　　Andyou，sweetDora，letmeconfessIloveyou，thoughsensiblefriendsdeemyoufoolish。Ah，sillyDora，fashionedbywiseMotherNaturewhoknowsthatweaknessandhelplessnessareasatalismancallingforthstrengthandtendernessinman，troubleyourselfnotundulyabouttheoystersandtheunderdonemutton，littlewoman。
　　Goodplaincooksattwentypoundsayearwillseetothesethingsforus。Yourworkistoteachusgentlenessandkindness。Layyourfoolishcurlsjusthere，child。Itisfromsuchasyouwelearnwisdom。Foolishwisefolksneeratyou。Foolishwisefolkwouldpullupthelaughinglilies，theneedlessrosesfromthegarden，wouldplantintheirplacesonlyuseful，wholesomecabbage。Butthegardener，knowingbetter，plantsthesilly，short—livedflowers，foolishwisefolkaskingforwhatpurpose。
　　GallantTraddles，ofthestrongheartandtheunrulyhair;Sophy，dearestofgirls;BetsyTrotwood，withyourgentlemanlymannersandyourwoman’sheart，youhavecometomeinshabbyrooms，makingthedismalplaceseembright。Indarkhoursyourkindlyfaceshavelookedoutatmefromtheshadows，yourkindlyvoiceshavecheeredme。
　　LittleEm’lyandAgnes，itmaybemybadtaste，butIcannotsharemyfriendDickens’enthusiasmforthem。Dickens’goodwomenarealltoogoodforhumannature’sdailyfood。EstherSummerson，FlorenceDombey，LittleNell——youhavenofaultstoloveyouby。
　　Scott’swomenwerelikewisemereilluminatedtexts。Scottonlydrewoneliveheroine——CatherineSeton。Hisotherwomenweremerelytheprizestheherohadtowinintheend，likethesuckingpigorthelegofmuttonforwhichtheyokelclimbsthegreasypole。ThatDickenscoulddrawawomantosomelikenessheprovedbyBellaWilfer，andEstellain"GreatExpectations。"Butrealwomenhaveneverbeenpopularinfiction。Menreaderspreferthefalse，andwomenreadersobjecttothetruth。
　　Fromanartisticpointofview，"DavidCopperfield"isundoubtedlyDickens’bestwork。Itshumourislessboisterous;itspathoslesshighlycoloured。
　　OneofLeech’spicturesrepresentsacab—mancalmlysleepinginthegutter。
　　"Oh，poordear，he’sill，"saysatender—heartedladyinthecrowd。
　　"Ill！"retortsamalebystanderindignantly，"Ill！’E’s’adtoomuchofwhatIain’t’adenoughof。"
　　Dickenssufferedfromtoolittleofwhatsomeofushavetoomuchof—
　　—criticism。Hisworkmetwithtoolittleresistancetocallforthhispowers。Toooftenhispathossinkstobathos，andthisnotfromwantofskill，butfromwantofcare。Itisdifficulttobelievethatthepopularwriterwhoallowedhissentimentality——orratherthepublic’ssentimentality——torunawaywithhiminsuchscenesasthedeathofPaulDombeyandLittleNellwastheartistwhopaintedthedeathofSidneyCartonandofBarkis，thewilling。ThedeathofBarkis，nexttothepassingofColonelNewcome，is，tomythinking，oneofthemostperfectpiecesofpathosinEnglishliterature。Noverydeepemotionisconcerned。Heisacommonplaceoldman，clingingfoolishlytoacommonplacebox。Hissimplewifeandtheoldboatmenstandby，waitingcalmlyfortheend。Thereisnostrainingaftereffect。Onefeelsdeathenter，dignifyingallthings;andtouchedbythathand，foolisholdBarkisgrowsgreat。
　　InUriahHeapandMrs。Gummidge，Dickensdrawstypesratherthancharacters。Pecksniff，Podsnap，DollyVarden，Mr。Bumble，Mrs。Gamp，MarkTapley，Turveydrop，Mrs。Jellyby——thesearenotcharacters;theyarehumancharacteristicspersonified。
　　WehavetogobacktoShakespearetofindawriterwho，throughfiction，hassoenrichedthethoughtofthepeople。AdmitallDickens’faultstwiceover，westillhaveoneofthegreatestwritersofmoderntimes。SuchpeopleasthesecreationsofDickensneverlived，saysyourlittlecritic。NorwasPrometheus，typeofthespiritofman，norwasNiobe，motherofallmothers，atruthfulpictureofthecitizenonewaslikelytomeetoftenduringamorning’sstrollthroughAthens。NorgrewthereeverawoodliketotheForestofArden，thougheveryRosalindandOrlandoknowsthepathtogladeshavingmuchresemblancethereto。
　　Steerforth，uponwhomDickensevidentlypridedhimself，Imustconfess，neverlaidholdofme。Heisamelodramaticyoungman。TheworstIcouldhavewishedhimwouldhavebeenthatheshouldmarryRoseDartleandlivewithhismother。Itwouldhaveservedhimrightforbeingsoattractive。OldPeggottyandHamare，ofcourse，impossible。Onemustacceptthemalsoastypes。TheseBrothersCheeryble，theseKits，JoeGargeries，Boffins，Garlands，JohnPeerybingles，wewillacceptastypesofthegoodnessthatisinmen—
　　—thoughinreallifetheamountofvirtuethatDickensoftenwastesuponasingleindividualwouldbymoreeconomicallymindednature，bemadetoserveforfifty。
　　Tosumup，"DavidCopperfield"isaplaintale，simplytold;andsuchareallbooksthatlive。Eccentricitiesofstyle，artistictrickery，maypleasethecriticofaday，butliteratureisastorythatinterestsus，boysandgirls，menandwomen。Itisasadbook;andthat，again，givesitanaddedcharminthesesadlaterdays。
　　Humanityisnearingitsoldage，andwehavecometolovesadness，asthefriendwhohasbeenlongestwithus。Intheyoungdaysofourvigourweweremerry。WithUlysses’boatmen，wetookalikethesunshineandthethunderwithfrolicwelcome。Theredbloodflowedinourveins，andwelaughed，andourtaleswereofstrengthandhope。Nowwesitlikeoldmen，watchingfacesinthefire;andthestoriesthatwelovearesadstories——likethestoriesweourselveshavelived。
　　CREATURESTHATONEDAYSHALLBEMEN。
　　IoughttolikeRussiabetterthanIdo，ifonlyforthesakeofthemanygoodfriendsIamproudtopossessamongsttheRussians。A
　　largesquarephotographIkeepalwaysonmymantel—piece;ithelpsmetomaintainmyheadatthatdegreeofdistentionnecessaryfortheperformanceofallliterarywork。Itpresentsinthecentreaneatly—writtenaddressinexcellentEnglishthatIfranklyconfessI
　　amnevertiredofreading，aroundwhicharerangedsomehundredsofnamesIamquiteunabletoread，butwhich，inspiteoftheirstrangelettering，IknowtobethenamesofgoodRussianmenandwomentowhom，ayearortwoago，occurredthekindlyideaofsendingmeasaChristmascardthismessageofencouragement。TheindividualRussianisoneofthemostcharmingcreaturesliving。Ifhelikeyouhedoesnothesitatetoletyouknowit;notonlybyeveryactionpossible，but，bywhatperhapsisjustasusefulinthisgreyoldworld，bygenerous，impulsivespeech。
　　WeAnglo—Saxonsareapttoprideourselvesuponbeingundemonstrative。MaxAdelertellsthetaleofaboywhowassentoutbyhisfathertofetchwood。Theboytooktheopportunityofdisappearinganddidnotshowhisfaceagainbeneaththepaternalroofforovertwentyyears。Thenoneevening，asmiling，well—
　　dressedstrangerenteredtotheoldcouple，andannouncedhimselfastheirlong—lostchild，returnedatlast。
　　"Well，youhaven’thurriedyourself，"grumbledtheoldman，"andblarmmeifnowyouhaven’tforgottenthewood。"
　　IwaslunchingwithanEnglishmaninaLondonrestaurantoneday。A
　　manenteredandtookhisseatatatablenearby。Glancinground，andmeetingmyfriend’seyes，hesmiledandnodded。
　　"Excusemeaminute，"saidmyfriend，"Imustjustspeaktomybrother——haven’tseenhimforoverfiveyears。"
　　Hefinishedhissoupandleisurelywipedhismoustachebeforestrollingacrossandshakinghands。Theytalkedforawhile。Thenmyfriendreturnedtome。
　　"Neverthoughttoseehimagain，"observedmyfriend，"hewasoneofthegarrisonofthatplaceinAfrica——what’sthenameofit？——thattheMahdiattacked。Onlythreeofthemescaped。Alwayswasaluckybeggar，Jim。"
　　"Butwouldn’tyouliketotalktohimsomemore？"Isuggested;"Icanseeyouanytimeaboutthislittlebusinessofours。"
　　"Oh，that’sallright，"heanswered，"wehavejustfixeditup——shallbeseeinghimagainto—morrow。"
　　IthoughtofthissceneoneeveningwhilediningwithsomeRussianfriendsinaSt。PetersburgHotel。Oneofthepartyhadnotseenhissecondcousin，aminingengineer，fornearlyeighteenmonths。Theysatoppositetooneanother，andadozentimesatleastduringthecourseofthedinneroneofthemwouldjumpupfromhischair，andrunroundtoembracetheother。Theywouldthrowtheirarmsaboutoneanother，kissingoneanotheronbothcheeks，andthensitdownagain，withmoisteyes。Theirbehaviouramongtheirfellowcountrymenexcitednoastonishmentwhatever。
　　ButtheRussians’sangerisasquickandvehementashislove。OnanotheroccasionIwassuppingwithfriendsinoneofthechiefrestaurantsontheNevsky。Twogentlemenatanadjoiningtable，whouptillthepreviousmomenthadbeenengagedinamicableconversation，suddenlysprangtotheirfeet，and"wentfor"oneanother。Onemansecuredthewater—bottle，whichhepromptlybrokeovertheother’shead。Hisopponentchoseforhisweaponaheavymahoganychair，andleapingbackforthepurposeofsecuringagoodswing，lurchedagainstmyhostess。
　　"Dopleasebecareful，"saidthelady。
　　"Athousandpardons，madame，"returnedthestranger，fromwhombloodandwaterwerestreaminginequalcopiousness;andtakingtheutmostcaretoavoidinterferingwithourcomfort，hesucceededadroitlyinflooringhisantagonistbyawell—directedblow。
　　Apolicemanappeareduponthescene。Hedidnotattempttointerfere，butrunningoutintothestreetcommunicatedthegladtidingstoanotherpoliceman。
　　"Thisisgoingtocostthemaprettypenny，"observedmyhost，whowascalmlycontinuinghissupper;"whycouldn’ttheywait？"
　　Itdidcostthemaprettypenny。Somehalfadozenpolicemenwereroundaboutbeforeasmanyminuteshadelapsed，andeachoneclaimedhisbribe。Thentheywishedbothcombatantsgood—night，andtroopedoutevidentlyingreatgoodhumourandthetwogentlemen，withwetnapkinsroundtheirheads，satdownagain，andlaughterandamicableconversationflowedfreelyasbefore。
　　Theystrikethestrangerasachildlikepeople，butyouarepossessedwithahauntingsenseofuglytraitsbeneath。Theworkers——slavesitwouldbealmostmorecorrecttocallthem——allowthemselvestobeexploitedwiththeuncomplainingpatienceofintelligentanimals。
　　YeteveryeducatedRussianyoutalktoonthesubjectknowsthatrevolutioniscoming。
　　Buthetalkstoyouaboutitwiththedoorshut，fornomaninRussiacanbesurethathisownservantsarenotpolicespies。IwasdiscussingpoliticswithaRussianofficialoneeveninginhisstudywhenhisoldhousekeeperenteredtheroom——asoft—eyedgrey—hairedwomanwhohadbeeninhisserviceovereightyears，andwhosepositioninthehouseholdwasalmostthatofafriend。Hestoppedabruptlyandchangedtheconversation。Sosoonasthedoorwasclosedbehindheragain，heexplainedhimself。
　　"Itisbettertochatuponsuchmatterswhenoneisquitealone，"helaughed。
　　"Butsurelyyoucantrusther，"Isaid，"Sheappearstobedevotedtoyouall。"
　　"Itissafertotrustnoone，"heanswered。Andthenhecontinuedfromthepointwherewehadbeeninterrupted。
　　"Itisgathering，"hesaid;"therearetimeswhenIalmostsmellbloodintheair。Iamanoldmanandmayescapeit，butmychildrenwillhavetosuffer——sufferaschildrenmustforthesinsoftheirfathers。Wehavemadebrutebeastsofthepeople，andasbrutebeaststheywillcomeuponus，cruel，andundiscriminating;rightandwrongindifferentlygoingdownbeforethem。Butithastobe。Itisneeded。"
　　ItisamistaketospeakoftheRussianclassesopposingtoallprogressadeadwallofselfishness。ThehistoryofRussiawillbethehistoryoftheFrenchRevolutionoveragain，butwiththisdifference：thattheeducatedclasses，thethinkers，whoarepushingforwardthedumbmassesaredoingsowiththeireyesopen。TherewillbenoMaribeau，noDantontobeappalledatapeople’singratitude。Themenwhoareto—dayworkingforrevolutioninRussianumberamongtheirranksstatesmen，soldiers，delicately—nurturedwomen，richlandowners，prosperoustradesmen，studentsfamiliarwiththelessonsofhistory。TheyhavenomisconceptionsconcerningtheblindMonsterintowhichtheyarebreathinglife。Hewillcrushthem，theyknowit;butwiththemhewillcrushtheinjusticeandstupiditytheyhavegrowntohatemorethantheylovethemselves。
　　TheRussianpeasant，whenherises，willprovemoreterrible，morepitilessthanwerethemenof1790。Heislessintelligent，morebrutal。Theysingawild，sadsong，theseRussiancattle，thewhiletheywork。Theysingitinchorusonthequayswhilehaulingthecargo，theysingitinthefactory，theychantontheweary，endlesssteppes，reapingthecorntheymaynoteat。Itisofthegoodtimetheirmastersarehaving，ofthefeastingsandthemerrymakings，ofthelaughterofthechildren，ofthekissesofthelovers。
　　Butthelastlineofeveryverseisthesame。WhenyouaskaRussiantotranslateitforyouheshrugshisshoulders。
　　"Oh，itmeans，"hesays，"thattheirtimewillalsocome——someday。"
　　Itisapathetic，hauntingrefrain。Theysingitinthedrawing—
　　roomsofMoscowandSt。Petersburg，andsomehowthelighttalkandlaughterdieaway，andahush，likeachillbreath，entersbythecloseddoorandpassesthrough。Itisacurioussong，likethewailingofatiredwind，andonedayitwillsweepoverthelandheraldingterror。
　　AScotsmanImetinRussiatoldmethatwhenhefirstcameouttoactasmanagerofalargefactoryinSt。Petersburg，belongingtohisScottishemployers，heunwittinglymadeamistakethefirstweekwhenpayinghisworkpeople。ByamiscalculationoftheRussianmoneyhepaidthemen，eachone，nearlyaroubleshort。HediscoveredhiserrorbeforethefollowingSaturday，andthenputthematterright。
　　Themenacceptedhisexplanationwithperfectcomposureandwithoutanycommentwhatever。Thethingastonishedhim。
　　"ButyoumusthaveknownIwaspayingyoushort，"hesaidtooneofthem。"Whydidn’tyoutellmeofit？"
　　"Oh，"answeredtheman，"wethoughtyouwereputtingitinyourownpocketandthenifwehadcomplaineditwouldhavemeantdismissalforus。Noonewouldhavetakenourwordagainstyours。"
　　CorruptionappearstobesogeneralthroughoutthewholeofRussiathatallclasseshavecometoacceptitaspartoftheestablishedorderofthings。Afriendgavemealittledogtobringawaywithme。Itwasavaluableanimal，andIwishedtokeepitwithme。Itisstrictlyforbiddentotakedogsintorailwaycarriages。Thelistofthepainsandpenaltiesfordoingsofrightenedmeconsiderably。
　　"Oh，thatwillbeallright，"myfriendassuredme;"haveafewroubleslooseinyourpocket。"
　　ItippedthestationmasterandItippedtheguard，andstartedpleasedwithmyself。ButIhadnotanticipatedwhatwasinstoreforme。ThenewsthatanEnglishmanwithadoginabasketandroublesinhispocketwascomingmusthavebeentelegraphedalldowntheline。Atalmosteverystopping—placesomeenormousofficial，wearinggenerallyaswordandahelmet，boardedthetrain。Atfirstthesefellowsterrifiedme。Itookthemforfield—marshalsatleast。
　　VisionsofSiberiacrossedmymind。Anxiousandtrembling，Igavethefirstoneagoldpiece。Heshookmewarmlybythehand——I
　　thoughthewasgoingtokissme。IfIhadofferedhimmycheekIamsurehewouldhavedoneso。WiththenextoneIfeltlessapprehensive。Foracoupleofroublesheblessedme，soIgathered;
　　and，commendingmetothecareoftheAlmighty，departed。BeforeI
　　hadreachedtheGermanfrontier，IwasgivingawaytheequivalentofEnglishsixpencestomenwiththedressandcarriageofmajor—
　　generals;andtoseetheirfacesbrightenupandtoreceivetheirheartfeltbenedictionwaswellworththemoney。
　　Buttothemanwithoutroublesinhispocket，Russianofficialdomisnotsogracious。BytheexpenditureofafewmorecoinsIgotmydogthroughtheCustomswithouttrouble，andhadleisuretolookaboutme。Amiserableobjectwasbeingbadgeredbyhalfadozenmeninuniform，andhe——hisleanfacepuckeredupintoasnarl——wasreturningthemsnappishanswers;thewholescenesuggestedsomehalf—
　　starvedmongrelbeingworriedbyschool—boys。Aslightinformalityhadbeendiscoveredinhispassport，soafellowtravellerwithwhomIhadmadefriendsinformedme。Hehadnoroublesinhispocket，andinconsequencetheyweresendinghimbacktoSt。Petersburg——someeighteenhours’journey——inawagonthatinEnglandwouldnotbeemployedforthetransportofoxen。
　　ItseemedagoodjoketoRussianofficialdom;theywoulddropineverynowandthen，lookathimashesatcrouchedinacornerofthewaiting—room，andpassoutagain，laughing。Thesnarlhaddiedfromhisface;adull，listlessindifferencehadtakenitsplace——thelookoneseesonthefaceofabeatendog，afterthebeatingisover，whenitislyingverystill，itsgreateyesstaringintonothingness，andonewonderswhetheritisthinking。
　　TheRussianworkerreadsnonewspaper，hasnoclub，yetallthingsseemtobeknowntohim。ThereisaprisononthebanksoftheNeva，inSt。Petersburg。Theysaysuchthingsaredonewithnow，butuptillveryrecentlythereexistedasmallcelltherein，belowtheleveloftheice，andprisonersplacedtherewouldbefoundmissingadayortwoafterwards，nothingeveragainknownofthem，except，perhaps，tothefishesoftheBaltic。Theytalkofsuchlikethingsamongthemselves：thesleigh—driversroundtheircharcoalfire，thefield—workersgoingandcominginthegreydawn，thefactoryworkers，theirwhispersdeadenedbytherattleofthelooms。
　　IwassearchingforahouseinBrusselssomewintersago，andtherewasoneIwassenttoinasmallstreetleadingoutoftheAvenueLouise。Itwaspoorlyfurnished，butrichinpictures，largeandsmall。Theycoveredthewallsofeveryroom。
　　"Thesepictures，"explainedtomethelandlady，anold，haggard—
　　lookingwoman，"willnotbeleft，IamtakingthemwithmetoLondon。
　　Theyarealltheworkofmyhusband。Heisarranginganexhibition。"
　　Thefriendwhohadsentmehadtoldmethewomanwasawidow，whohadbeenlivinginBrusselsekingoutaprecariousexistenceasalodging—housekeeperforthelasttenyears。
　　"Youhavemarriedagain？"Iquestionedher。
　　Thewomansmiled。
　　"Notagain。IwasmarriedeighteenyearsagoinRussia。MyhusbandwastransportedtoSiberiaafewdaysafterweweremarried，andI
　　haveneverseenhimsince。"
　　"Ishouldhavefollowedhim，"sheadded，"onlyeveryyearwethoughthewasgoingtobesetfree。"
　　"Heisreallyfreenow？"Iasked。
　　"Yes，"sheanswered。"Theysethimfreelastweek。HewilljoinmeinLondon。Weshallbeabletofinishourhoneymoon。"
　　Shesmiled，revealingtomethatonceshehadbeenagirl。
　　IreadintheEnglishpapersoftheexhibitioninLondon。Itwassaidtheartistshowedmuchpromise。Sopossiblyacareermayatlastbeopeningoutforhim。
　　NaturehasmadelifehardtoRussianrichandpooralike。TothebanksoftheNeva，withitsagueandinfluenza—bestowingfogsandmists，oneimaginesthattheDevilhimselfmusthaveguidedPetertheGreat。
　　"Showmeinallmydominionsthemosthopelesslyunattractivesiteonwhichtobuildacity，"Petermusthaveprayed;andtheDevilhavingdiscoveredthesiteonwhichSt。Petersburgnowstands，musthavereturnedtohismasterinhighgoodfeather。
　　"Ithink，mydearPeter，Ihavefoundyousomethingreallyunique。
　　Itisapestilentswamptowhichamightyriverbringsbitterblastsandmarrow—chillingfogs，whileduringthebriefsummertimethewindwillbringyousand。InthiswayyouwillcombinethedisadvantagesoftheNorthPolewiththoseofthedesertofSahara。"
　　InthewintertimetheRussianslighttheirgreatstoves，anddoublybarricadetheirdoorsandwindows;andinthisatmosphere，liketothatofagreenhouse，manyoftheirwomenwillpasssixmonths，neverventuringoutofdoors。Eventhemenonlygooutatintervals。
　　Everyoffice，everyshopisanoven。Menoffortyhavewhitehairandparchmentfaces;andthewomenareoldatthirty。Thefarmlabourers，duringthefewsummermonths，workalmostentirelywithoutsleep。Theyleavethatforthewinter，whentheyshutthemselvesuplikedormiceintheirhovels，theirstoreoffoodandvodkaburiedunderneaththefloor。Fordaystogethertheysleep，thenwakeanddig，thensleepagain。
　　TheRussianpartylastsallnight。Inanadjoiningroomarebedsandcouches;halfadozenguestsarealwayssleeping。Anhourcontentsthem，thentheyrejointhecompany，andothergueststaketheirplaces。TheRussianeatswhenhefeelssodisposed;thetableisalwaysspread，theguestscomeandgo。OnceayearthereisagreatfeastinMoscow。TheRussianmerchantandhisfriendssitdownearlyintheday，andasortofthick，sweetpancakeisserveduphot。Thefeastcontinuesformanyhours，andtheambitionoftheRussianmerchantistoeatmorethanhisneighbour。Fiftyorsixtyofthesehotcakesamanwillconsumeatasitting，andadozenfuneralsinMoscowisoftentheresult。
　　Anuncivilisedpeople，wecalltheminourlordlyway，buttheyareyoung。Russianhistoryisnotyetthreehundredyearsold。Theywillseeusout，Iaminclinedtothink。Theirenergy，theirintelligence——whentheseshowabovethegroundwork——aremonstrous。I
　　haveknownaRussianlearnChinesewithinsixmonths。English！theylearnitwhileyouaretalkingtothem。Thechildrenplayatchessandstudytheviolinfortheirownamusement。
　　TheworldwillbegladofRussia——whenshehasputherhouseinorder。
　　HOWTOBEHAPPYTHOUGHLITTLE。
　　FolkssufferingfromJingoism，Spreadeagleism，Chauvinism——allsuchlikeisms，towhatevercountrytheybelong——wouldbewelladvisedtotakeatourinHolland。Itistheideaofthemomentthatsizespellshappiness。Thebiggerthecountrythebetteroneisforlivingthere。ThehappiestFrenchmancannotpossiblybeashappyasthemostwretchedBritisher，forthereasonthatBritainownsmanymorethousandsofsquaremilesthanFrancepossesses。TheSwisspeasant，comparedwiththeRussianserf，must，whenhelooksatthemapofEuropeandAsia，feelhimselftobeamiserablecreature。ThereasonthateverybodyinAmericaishappyandgoodistobeexplainedbythefactthatAmericahasanareaequaltothatoftheentiremoon。TheAmericancitizenwhohasbackedthewronghorse，missedhistrainandlosthisbag，remembersthisandfeelsbuckedupagain。
　　Accordingtothisargument，fishesshouldbethehappiestofmortals，theseaconsisting——atleast，sosaysmyatlas：Ihavenotmeasureditmyself——ofahundredandforty—fourmillionsofsquaremiles。
　　But，maybe，theseaisalsodividedinwayswewotnotof。PossiblythesardinewholivesneartheBrittainycoastissadanddiscontentedbecausetheNorwegiansardineistheproudinhabitantofalargersea。PerhapsthatiswhyhehaslefttheBrittainycoast。
　　AshamedofbeingaBrittainysardine，hehasemigratedtoNorway，hasbecomeanaturalizedNorwegiansardine，andishimselfagain。
　　ThehappyLondoneronfoggydayscanwarmhimselfwiththereflectionthatthesunneversetsontheBritishEmpire。Hedoesnotoftenseethesun，butthatisameredetail。Heregardshimselfastheownerofthesun;thesunbeginshislittledayintheBritishEmpire，endshislittledayintheBritishEmpire：forallpracticalpurposesthesunispartoftheBritishEmpire。Foolishpeopleinothercountriessitunderneathitandfeelwarm，butthatisonlytheirignorance。
　　TheydonotknowitisaBritishpossession;iftheydidtheywouldfeelcold。
　　Myviewsonthissubjectare，Iknow，heretical。Icannotgetitintomyunpatrioticheadthatsizeistheonlythingworthworryingabout。InEngland，whenIventuretoexpressmyout—of—dateopinions，IamcalledaLittleEnglander。Itfrettedmeatfirst;I
　　wasbecomingamereshadow。ButbynowIhavegotusedtoit。Itwouldbethesame，Ifeel，whereverIwent。InNewYorkIshouldbeaLittleAmerican;inConstantinopleaLittleTurk。ButIwantedtotalkaboutHolland。AholidayinHollandservesasacorrectivetoexaggeratedImperialisticnotions。
　　TherearenopoorinHolland。Theymaybeanunhappypeople，knowingwhatalittlecountryitistheylivein;but，ifso，theyhidethefact。Toallseeming，theDutchpeasant，smokinghisgreatpipe，isasmuchamanastheWhitechapelhawkerorthemoocheroftheParisboulevard。IsawabeggaronceinHolland——inthetownletofEnkhuisen。Crowdswerehurryingupfromthesidestreetstohavealookathim;theideaatfirstseemedtobethathewasdoingitforabet。HeturnedouttobeaPortuguese。Theyofferedhimworkinthedocks——untilhecouldgetsomethingbettertodo——atwagesequalinEnglishmoneytoabouttenshillingsaday。Iinquiredabouthimonmywayback，andwastoldhehadborrowedacoupleofformsfromtheforemanandhadleftbytheeveningtrain。Itisnotthecountryfortheloafer。
　　InHollandworkiseasilyfound;thistakesawaythecharmoflookingforit。AfarmlabourerinHollandlivesinabrick—builthouseofsixrooms，whichgenerallybelongstohim，withanacreorsoofground，andonlyeatsmeatonceaday。Therestofhistimehefillsuponeggsandchickenandcheeseandbeer。Butyourarelyhearhimgrumble。HiswifeanddaughtermaybeseenonSundayswearinggoldandsilverjewelleryworthfromfiftytoonehundredpounds，andthereisgenerallyenougholddelftandpewterinthehousetostartalocalmuseumanywhereoutsideHolland。Onhighdaysandholidays，ofwhichinHollandthereareplenty，theaverageDutchvrouwwouldbewellworthrunningawaywith。TheDutchpeasantgirlhasnoneedofanillustratedjournalonceaweektotellherwhatthefashionis;shehasitintheportraitofhermother，orofhergrandmother，hangingovertheglitteringchimney—piece。
　　WhentheDutchwomanbuildsadressshebuildsittolast;itdescendsfrommothertodaughter，butitismadeofsoundmaterialinthebeginning。AladyfriendofminethoughttheDutchcostumewouldservewellforafancy—dressball，sosetaboutbuyingone，butabandonedthenotiononlearningwhatitwouldcosther。ADutchgirlinherSundayclothesmustbeworthfiftypoundsbeforeyoucometoornaments。Incertainprovincesshewearsaclose—fittinghelmet，madeeitherofsolidsilverorofsolidgold。TheDutchgallant，beforemakinghimselfknown，walksontiptoealittlewhilebehindtheLovedOne，andlooksathimselfinherhead—dressjusttomakesurethathishatisonstraightandhisfrontcurljustwhereitoughttobe。
　　InmostotherEuropeancountriesnationalcostumeisdyingout。Theslop—shopisyearbyyearextendingitshideoustrade。ButthecountryofRubensandRembrandt，ofTeniersandGerardDow，remainsstilltruetoart。Thepicturepost—carddoesnotexaggerate。Themeninthosewondrousbaggyknickerbockers，fromthepocketsofwhichyousometimesseeacoupleofchicken’sheadsprotruding;ingaudycolouredshirts，inworstedhoseandmightysabots，smokingtheirgreatpipes——thewomenintheirpetticoatsofmanyhues，ingorgeouslyembroideredvest，inchemisetteofdazzlingwhite，crownedwithahaloofmanyfrills，glitteringingoldandsilver——arenotthecreaturesofanartist’sfancy。Youmeetthemintheirthousandsonholidayafternoons，walkinggravelyarminarm，flirtingwithsoberDutchstolidity。
　　Oncolderdaysthewomenwearbright—colouredcapesmadeoffinespunsilk，fromunderneaththeamplefoldsofwhichyousometimeshearalittlecry;andsometimesalittlehoodedheadpeepsout，regardswithpreternaturalthoughtfulnessthetoy—likeworldwithout，thendivesbackintoshelter。Asforthechildren——womeninminiature，thesingledifferenceindressbeingthegaypinafore——youcanonlysayofthemthattheylooklikeDutchdolls。Butsuchplump，contented，cheerfullittledolls！Yourememberthehollow—eyed，pale—faceddollsyouseeswarminginthegreat，bigandthereforeshouldbehappycountries，andwishthatmerelandsurfacewereoflessimportancetoourstatesmenandourableeditors，andthehappinessandwell—beingofthemerehumanitemsworthalittlemoreoftheirthought。
　　TheDutchpeasantlivessurroundedbycanals，andreacheshiscottageacrossadrawbridge。IsupposeitisinthebloodoftheDutchchildnottotumbleintoacanal，andtheDutchmotherneverappearstoanticipatesuchpossibility。OnecanimaginetheaverageEnglishmothertryingtobringupafamilyinahousesurroundedbycanals。
　　Shewouldneverhaveaminute’speaceuntilthechildrenwereinbed。
　　ButthenthemeresightofacanaltotheEnglishchildsuggeststhedelightsofasuddenandunexpectedbath。IputittoaDutchmanonce。DidtheDutchchildbyanychanceeverfallintoacanal？
　　"Yes，"hereplied，"caseshavebeenknown。"
　　"Don’tyoudoanythingforit？"Ienquired。
　　"Oh，yes，"heanswered，"wehaulthemoutagain。"
　　"ButwhatImeanis，"Iexplained，"don’tyoudoanythingtopreventtheirfallingin——tosavethemfromfallinginagain？"
　　"Yes，"heanswered，"wespank’em。"
　　ThereisalwaysawindinHolland;itcomesfromoverthesea。Thereisnothingtostayitsprogress。Itleapsthelowdykesandsweepswithashriekacrossthesad，softdunes，andthinksitisgoingtohaveagoodtimeandplayhavocintheland。ButtheDutchmanlaughsbehindhisgreatpipeasitcomestohimshoutingandroaring。
　　"Welcome，myhearty，welcome，"hechuckles，"comeblusteringandbragging;thebiggeryouarethebetterIlikeyou。"Andwhenitisonceintheland，behindthelong，straightdykes，behindthewavinglineofsandydunes，heseizesholdofit，andwillnotletitgotillithasdoneitstaleofwork。
　　ThewindistheDutchman’s;servantbeforeheletsitlooseagainithasturnedtenthousandmills，haspumpedthewaterandsawnthewood，haslightedthetownandworkedtheloom，andforgedtheiron，anddriventhegreat，slow，silentwherry，andplayedwiththechildreninthegarden。Itisasoberwindwhenitgetsbacktosea，wornandweary，leavingtheDutchmanlaughingbehindhiseverlastingpipe。TherearecanalsinHollanddownwhichyoupassasthoughafieldofwind—blowncorn;asoft，low，rustlingmurmureverinyourears。Itistheceaselesswhirlofthegreatmillsails。Faroutatseathewindsareasfoolishsavages，fighting，shrieking，tearing——
　　purposeless。Here，inthestreetofmills，itisacivilizedwind，crooningsoftlywhileitlabours。
　　WhatcharmsoneinHollandistheneatnessandcleanlinessofallaboutone。MaybetotheDutchmantherearedrawbacks。InaDutchhouseholdlifemustbeonelongspring—cleaning。Nomilk—pailisconsideredfitthatcannotjustaswellbeusedforalooking—glass。
　　Thegreatbrasspans，hangingunderthepenthouseroofoutsidethecottagedoor，flashlikeburnishedgold。Youcouldeatyourdinneroffthered—tiledfloor，butthatthedealtable，scrubbedtothecolourofcreamcheese，ismoreconvenient。Byeachthresholdstandsarowofemptysabots，andwoe—betidetheDutchmanwhowoulddreamofcrossingitinanythingbuthisstockingedfeet。
　　Thereisafashioninsabots。Everyspringtheyarefreshlypainted。
　　Onedistrictfanciesanorangeyellow，anotherared，athirdwhite，suggestingpurityandinnocence。MembersoftheSmartSetindulgeinornamentation;afriezeinpink，astaruponthetoe。Walkinginsabotsisnotaseasyasitlooks。AttemptingtoruninsabotsIdonotrecommendtothebeginner。
　　"Howdoyouruninsabots？"IaskedaDutchmanonce。Ihadbeenexperimenting，andhadhurtmyself。
　　"Wedon’trun，"answeredtheDutchman。
　　Andobservationhasprovedtomehewasright。TheDutchboy，whenheruns，putsthemforpreferenceonhishands，andhitsotherDutchboysovertheheadwiththemashepasses。
　　TheroadsinHolland，straightandlevel，andshadedallthewaywithtrees，look，fromtherailway—carriagewindow，asiftheywouldbegoodforcycling;butthisisadelusion。IcrossedintheboatfromHarwichonce，withawell—knownblackandwhiteartist，andanequallywell—knownandhighlyrespectedhumorist。Theyhadtheirbicycleswiththem，intendingtotourHolland。ImetthemafortnightlaterinDelft，or，rather，Imettheirremains。Iwashorrifiedatfirst。Ithoughtitwasdrink。Theycouldnotstandstill，theycouldnotsitstill，theytrembledandshookineverylimb，theirteethchatteredwhentheytriedtotalk。Thehumoristhadn’tajokeleftinhim。Theartistcouldnothavedrawnhisownsalary;hewouldhavedroppeditonthewaytohispocket。TheDutchroadsarepavedtheirentirelengthwithcobbles——big，roundcobbles，overwhichyourbicycleleapsandspringsandplunges。
　　IfyouwouldseeHollandoutsidethebigtownsasmatteringofDutchisnecessary。IfyouknowGermanthereisnotmuchdifficulty。
　　Dutch——Ispeakasanamateur——appearstobeverybadGermanmis—
　　pronounced。Myself，IfindmyGermangoeswellinHolland，evenbetterthaninGermany。TheAnglo—SaxonshouldnotattempttheDutchG。Itishopelesstothinkofsucceeding，andtheattempthasbeenknowntoproduceinternalrupture。TheDutchmanappearstokeephisGinhisstomach，andtohaulitupwhenwanted。Myself，IfindtheordinaryG，precededbyahiccoughandfollowedbyasob，thenearestIcangettoit。Buttheytellmeitisnotquiteright，yet。