will be properly sensible of how much of its greatness it owes to the Browns. For centuries, in their quiet, dogged, homespun way, they have been subduing the earth in most English counties, and leaving their mark in American forests and Australian uplands. Wherever the fleets and armies of England have won renown, there stalwart sons of the Browns have done yeomen's work. With the yew-bow and cloth-yard shaft at Cressy and Agincourt-with the brown bill and pike under the brave Lord Willoughby-with culverin and demi-culverin against Spaniards and Dutchmen-with hand-grenade and sabre, and musket and bayonet, under Rodney and St Vincent, Wolfe and Moore, Nelson and Wellington, they have carried their lives in their hands; getting hard knocks and hard work in plenty, which was on the whole what they looked for, and the best thing for them: and little praise or pudding, which indeed they, and most of us, are better without. Talbots and Stanleys, St Maurs and such-like folk, have led armies and made laws time out of mind; but those noble families would be somewhat astounded-if the accounts ever came to be fairly taken-to find how small their work for England has been by the side of

that of the Browns.

The author of Tom Brown's School-days is Thomas Hughes, a Chancery barrister (appointed Queen's Counsel in 1869), son of John Hughes, Esq., of Oriel College, Oxford, author of the Itinerary of Provence, and editor of the Boscobel Tracts. Sir Walter Scott pronounced this gentleman 'a poet, a draughtsman, and a scholar.' The once famous ballad of The One-horse Shay and other political jeux d'esprit in John Bull, were by the elder Mr Hughes. His son, born in 1823, was educated at Rugby under Dr Arnold. Mr Hughes was for some time an active member of parliament, warmly advocating the interests, without flattering the prejudices, of the working-classes. In all social questions he takes a deep interest, and evinces a manly, patriotic spirit.

MRS CROWE.

This lady differs from most of her sister-novelists in a love of the supernatural and mysterious. She possesses dramatic skill in describing characters and incidents, and few who have taken up one of her stories will lay down the volume until it has been read through. Mrs Crowe's first publication was a tragedy, Aristodemus, 1838. Her next work was addressed to the many. The Adventures of Susan Hopley, 1841, is a novel of English life, and was very successful. It was followed by Men and Women, or Manorial Rights, 1843-a tale less popularly attractive than Susan Hopley, but undoubtedly superior to it in most essential points. Mrs Crowe next translated The Seeress of Prevorst, revelations concerning the inner life of man, by Justinus Kerner; and two years afterwards (1847), she published The Story of Lilly Dawson. The heroine, when a child, falls into the hands of a family of English smugglers, desperadoes of the Dirk Hatteraick stamp; and the account given of the gradual development of her intellect and affections amidst scenes of brutal violence and terror, with the story of her subsequent escape and adventures when the world was all before her, form a narrative of psychological as well as of romantic interest. Among the opinions and reflections thrown out by the authoress is an admission that the intellectual

faculty of woman is inferior in quality and calibre to that of man :

If, as we believe, under no system of training, the intellect of woman would be found as strong as that of man, she is compensated by her intuitions being stronger-if her reason be less majestic, her insight is clearer-where man reasons, she sees. Nature, in short, gave her all that was needful to enable her to fill a noble part in the world's history, if man would but let her play it out, and not treat her like a full-grown baby, to be flattered and spoiled on the one hand, and coerced and restricted on the other, vibrating betwixt royal rule and slavish serfdom.

In 1848 Mrs Crowe issued two volumes representing The Night-side of Nature, or Ghosts and Ghost-seers.

Some of the stories are derived

from the German, and others are relations of supernatural events said to have happened in this country, some of them within the author's knowledge. A three-volume novel from her pen appeared in 1852, The Adventures of a Beauty, describing the perplexities arising out of a secret marriage contracted by a wealthy baronet's son with the daughter of a farmer; and another domestic story, Linny Lockwood, two volumes, 1854, appears to complete the round of Mrs Crowe's works of fiction. The novelist, we may add, is a native of Borough Green, county of Kent; her maiden name was Catherine Stevens, and in 1822 she was married to Colonel Crowe.

Stages in the History of Crime.

It is in the annals of the doings and sufferings of the

good and brave spirits of the earth that we should learn our lessons. It is by these that our hearts are mellowed, our minds exalted, and our souls nerved to go and do likewise. But there are occasionally circumstances connected with the history of great crimes that render them the most impressive of homilies; fitting them to be set aloft as beacons to warn away the frail mortal, tossed on the tempest of his passions, from the destruction that awaits him if he pursues his course; and such instruction we hold may be best derived from those cases in which the subsequent feelings of a criminal are disclosed to us; those cases, in short, in which the chastisement proceeds from within instead of from without; that chastisement that no cunning concealment, no legal subtlety, no eloquent counsel, no indulgent judge can avert..

of which is new in its generation is the character of

One of the features of our time-as of all times, each

its crimes. Every phasis of human affairs, every advance in civilisation, every shade of improvement in our material comforts and conveniences, gives rise to new modes and forms-nay, to actual new births-of crime, the germs of which were only waiting for a congenial soil to spring in; whilst others are but modifications of the old inventions accommodated to new circumstances.

There are thus stages in the history of crime indicative of ages. First, we have the heroic. At a very early period of a nation's annals, crime is bloody, bold, and resolute. Ambitious princes 'make quick conveyance' with those who stand in the way of their advancement; and fierce barons slake their enmity and revenge in the blood of their foes, with little attempt at concealment, and no appearance of remorse. Next comes the age of strange murders, mysterious poisonings, and lifelong incarcerations; when the passions, yet rife, unsubdued by education and the practical influence of religion, and rebellious to the new restraints of law, seek their gratification by hidden and tortuous methods. This is the romantic era of crime. But as civilisation advances, it descends to a

of the manufacturing classes in Lancashire. MRS ELIZABETH CLEGHORN GASKELL (née Stevenson), wife of the Rev. W. Gaskell, Unitarian minister, Manchester, in 1848 published anonymously Mary Barton, a Tale of Manchester Life. The work is a faithful and painfully interesting picture of the society of the manufacturing capital. The heroine is the daughter of a factory operative; and the family group, with their relatives and friends, are drawn with a distinctness and force that leave no doubt of its truth. The authoress says she had often thought how deep might be the romance in the lives of some of those who elbowed her daily in the streets of Manchester.

'I had always,' she adds, 'felt a deep sympathy with the care-worn men, who looked as if doomed to struggle through their lives in strange alternations between work and want tossed to and fro by circumstances apparently in even a greater degree than other men. A little manifestation of this sympathy, and a little attention to the expression of feelings on the part of some of the work-people with whom I was acquainted, had laid open to me the hearts of one or two of the more thoughtful among them; I saw that they were sore and irritable against the rich, the even tenor of whose seemingly happy lives appeared to increase the anguish caused by the lottery-like nature of their own. Whether the bitter complaints made by them, of the neglect which they experienced from the prosperous-especially from the masters whose fortunes they had helped to build up were well founded or no, it is not for me to judge. It is enough to say, that this belief of the injustice and unkindness which they endure from their fellow-creatures, taints what might be resignation to God's will, and turns it to revenge in too many of the poor uneducated factory-workers of Manchester."

The effects of bad times, political agitation, and 'strikes,' are depicted and brought home more vividly to the reader by their connection with the characters in the novel. The Lancashire dialect is also occasionally introduced, adding to the impression of reality made by the whole work; and though the chief interest is of a painful character, the novelist reflects the lights as well as the shades of artisan life. Her powers of description may be seen from the beautiful opening scene:

Picture of Green Heys Fields, Manchester. There are some fields near Manchester, well known to the inhabitants as Green Heys Fields,' through which runs a public footpath to a little village about two miles distant. In spite of these fields being flat and low-nay, in spite of the want of wood (the great and usual recommendation of level tracts of land), there is a charm about them which strikes even the inhabitant of a mountainous district, who sees and feels the effect of contrast in these commonplace but thoroughly rural fields, with the busy, bustling manufacturing town he left but half an hour ago. Here and there an old black and white farm-house, with its rambling outbuildings, speaks of other times and other occupations than those which now absorb the population of the neighbourhood. Here in their seasons may be seen the country business of haymaking, ploughing, &c., which are such pleasant mysteries for towns-people to watch; and here the artisan, deafened with noise of tongues and engines, may come to listen awhile to the delicious sounds of rural life-the lowing of cattle, the milkmaids' call, the clatter and cackle of poultry in the old farm-yards. You cannot wonder, then, that these fields are popular places of resort at every holiday-time; and you would not wonder, if you could see, or I properly describe, the

charm of one particular stile, that it should be, on such occasions, a crowded halting-place. Close by it is a deep, clear pond, reflecting in its dark-green depths the shadowy trees that bend over it to exclude the sun. The only place where its banks are shelving is on the side old-world, gabled, black and white houses I named next to a rambling farm-yard, belonging to one of those above, overlooking the field through which the public footpath leads. The porch of this farm-house is covered by a rose-tree; and the little garden surrounding it is crowded with a medley of old-fashioned herbs and flowers, planted long ago, when the garden was the only druggist's shop within reach, and allowed to grow in scrambling and wild luxuriance-roses, lavender, sage, balm (for tea), rosemary, pinks and wallflowers, onions and jessamine, in most republican and indiscriminate order. This farm-house and garden are within a hundred yards of the stile of which I spoke, leading from the large pasture-field into a smaller one, divided by a hedge of hawthorn and blackthorn; and near this stile, on the further side, there runs a tale that primroses may often be found, and occasionally the blue sweet violet on the grassy hedge-bank.

I do not know whether it was on a holiday granted by the masters, or a holiday seized in right of nature and her beautiful spring-time by the workmen; but one afternoon-now ten or a dozen years ago—these fields were much thronged. It was an early May eveningthe April of the poets; for heavy showers had fallen all the morning, and the round, soft white clouds which were blown by a west wind over the dark-blue sky, were sometimes varied by one blacker and more threatening. The softness of the day tempted forth the young green leaves, which almost visibly fluttered into life; and the willows, which that morning had had only a brown reflection in the water below, were now of that tender gray-green which blends so delicately with the spring harmony of colours.

Groups of merry, and somewhat loud-talking girls, whose ages might range from twelve to twenty, came by with a buoyant step. They were most of them factorygirls, and wore the usual out-of doors dress of that particular class of maidens-namely, a shawl, which at mid-day, or in fine weather, was allowed to be merely became a sort of Spanish mantilla or Scotch plaid, and a shawl, but towards evening, or if the day were chilly, was brought over the head and hung loosely down, or was pinned under the chin in no unpicturesque fashion. Their faces were not remarkable for beauty; indeed, they were below the average, with one or two excep tions; they had dark hair, neatly and classically arranged; dark eyes, but sallow complexions and irregular features. The only thing to strike a passer-by was an acuteness and intelligence of countenance which has often been noticed in a manufacturing population.

There were also numbers of boys, or rather young men, rambling among these fields, ready to bandy jokes with any one, and particularly ready to enter into conversation with the girls, who, however, held themselves aloof, not in a shy, but rather in an independent way, assuming an indifferent manner to the noisy wit or obstreperous compliments of the lads. Here and there came a sober, quiet couple, either whispering lovers, or husband and wife, as the case might be; and if the latter, they were seldom unencumbered by an infant, carried for the most part by the father, while occasionally even three or four little toddlers had been carried or dragged thus far, in order that the whole family might enjoy the delicious May afternoon together.

In 1850 Mrs Gaskell published The Moorland Cottage-a short domestic tale; in 1853, Ruth, a novel in three volumes, and Cranford, a collection of sketches that had appeared in a periodical work; in 1855, North and South, another story of the manufacturing districts, which had also

been originally published in the periodical form; and in 1859, Round the Sofa. In 1860 appeared Right at Last; and in 1863, Silvia's Lovers. These novels were all popular. The authoress was a prose Crabbe-earnest, faithful, and often spirited in her delineations of humble life. By confining herself chiefly to the manufacturing population, she threw light on conditions of life, habits, and feelings comparatively new and original in our fictitious literature. Her Life of Charlotte Brontë, 1857, has all the interest of a romance, and is worthy of the authoress of Mary Barton. Mrs Gaskell died at Alton, November 12, 1865, aged fifty-four.

Yorkshiremen of the West Riding.

From Life of Charlotte Brontë.

Even an inhabitant of the neighbouring county of Lancaster is struck by the peculiar force of character which the Yorkshiremen display. This makes them interesting as a race; while, at the same time, as individuals, the remarkable degree of self-sufficiency they possess gives them an air of independence rather apt to repel a stranger. I use this expression 'selfsufficiency in the largest sense. Conscious of the strong sagacity and the dogged power of will which seem almost the birthright of the natives of the West Riding, each man relies upon himself, and seeks no help at the hand of his neighbour. From rarely requiring the assistance of others, he comes to doubt the power of bestowing it: from the general success of his efforts, he grows to depend upon them, and to over-esteem his own energy and power. He belongs to that keen, yet shortsighted class who consider suspicion of all whose honesty is not proved as a sign of wisdom. The practical qualities of a man are held in great respect; but the want of faith in strangers and untried modes of action, extends itself even to the manner in which the virtues are regarded; and if they produce no immediate and tangible result, they are rather put aside as unfit for this busy, striving world; especially if they are more of a passive than an active character. Their affections are strong, and their foundations lie deep; but they are not -such affections seldom are-wide-spreading, nor do they shew themselves on the surface. Indeed, there is little display of any of the amenities of life among this wild, rough population. Their accost is curt; their accent and tone of speech blunt and harsh. Something of this may, probably, be attributed to the freedom of mountain air, and of isolated hill-side life, something be derived from their rough Norse ancestry. They have a quick perception of character, and a keen sense of humour; the dwellers among them must be prepared for certain uncomplimentary, though most likely true observations, pithily expressed. Their feelings are not easily roused, but their duration is lasting. Hence, there is much close friendship and faithful service. From the same cause also come enduring grudges, in some cases amounting to hatred, which occasionally has been bequeathed from generation to generation. I remember Miss Brontë once telling me that it was a saying round about Haworth: 'Keep a stone in thy pocket seven year; turn it and keep it seven year longer, that it may be ever ready to thy hand when thine enemy draws near.'

The West Riding men are sleuth-hounds in pursuit of money. . . . These men are keen and shrewd; faithful and persevering in following out a good purpose, fell in tracking an evil one. They are not emotional; they are not easily made into either friends or enemies; but once lovers or haters, it is difficult to change their feeling. They are a powerful race both in mind and body, both for good and for evil.

The woollen manufacture was introduced into this

district in the days of Edward III. It is traditionally said that a colony of Flemings came over and settled in the West Riding to teach the inhabitants what to do The mixture of agricultural with with their wool. manufacturing labour that ensued and prevailed in the enough at this distance of time, when the classical West Riding up to a very recent period, sounds pleasant impression is left, and the details forgotten, or only brought, to light by those who explore the few remote parts of England where the custom still lingers. The idea of the mistress and her maidens spinning at the great wheels while the master was abroad ploughing his fields, or seeing after his flocks on the purple moors, is very poetical to look back upon; but when such life actually touches on our own days, and we can hear particulars from the lips of those now living, there come out details of coarseness-of the uncouthness of the rustic mingled with the sharpness of the tradesman-of irregularity and fierce lawlessness-that rather mar the vision of pastoral innocence and simplicity. Still, as it is the exceptional and exaggerated characteristics of any period that leave the most vivid memory behind them, it would be wrong, and in my opinion faithless, to conclude that such and such forms of society and modes of living were not best for the period when they prevailed, although the abuses they may have led into, and the gradual progress of the world, have made it well that such ways and manners should pass away for ever, and as preposterous to attempt to return to them, as it would be for a man to return to the clothes of his childhood.

A uniform edition of Mrs Gaskell's novels and tales has been published in seven volumes.

WILLIAM WILKIE COLLINS.

This gentleman's first work was a Life of his father, William Collins, the celebrated English painter. It was published in 1848, and was universally recognised as a valuable addition to our art biography. MR COLLINS then tried another field. He turned to fiction, and in 1850 published a classic romance of the fifth century, entitled Antonina, or the Fall of Rome. Though much inferior to Bulwer's historical romances, the work evinced Mr Collins's art in constructing an interesting story, and this dramatic faculty-rather than skill in depicting character-has distinguished his subsequent productions. These are-Rambles beyond Railways, or Notes in Cornwall, 1851; Basil, a novel, 1852; Mr Wray's Cash-box, 1852; Hide and Seek, 1854; After Dark, 1856; The Dead Secret, 1857. The last of these tales appeared in Household Words, and kept its readers in breathless suspense-the delight of all lovers of romanceuntil the secret was unfolded. Mr Collins is author also of a drama, The Frozen Deep, performed in 1857 by Mr Dickens, by the dramatist himself, and other friends, amateur actors, in aid of the family of Douglas Jerrold, the Queen having previously witnessed a private representation of the piece. The late works of Mr Collins are-The Queen of Hearts, 1859; The Woman in White, 1860; No Name, 1862; My Miscellanies, 1863; Armadale, 1866; The Moonstone, 1868; Man and Wife, 1870; Poor Miss Finch; The Law and the Lady; &c. This popular novelist is a native of London, born in January 1824. He was intended for a commercial life, then studied law in Lincoln's Inn; but in his twenty-fourth year he entered on his natural field-the literary profession.

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