not aid the consumer at all. Rather there is no healthy competition, for the retail sellers are able to combine and overbear all attempts to offer the goods at a lower rate. It was for a time hoped that the co-operative societies might prevail to break the power of what are really great conspiracies against the interests of the public; but they have hitherto accomplished little as regards fresh provisions.

The evil is one very difficult to contend with, notwithstanding that we are able to see pretty clearly where the unsound place is. Catches of fish are parted with by the toilers of the sea for extremely moderate considerations; foreign grain and foreign carcasses are brought hither and sold at decidedly cheap rates, and yet the buyer for his own table finds his retail purchase singularly dear. Now that these facts are known, it is probable that in time we may see the obstacles to fair dealing in the food of the people cleared away. So far, even though they are known, the facts obtain much less attention than they deserve. Compare the protests made by the public against the conspirators who keep up the retail prices of food, with the indignation which clamours so loudly if one only hints at such a thing as a protective duty; and yet the duty would enhance the price very far less than these combinations do. The duties are made odious to serve political objects; but it benefits no party to denounce the action of middlemen and retailers, and so their overthrow is left to time. Time, probably, will not fail us. After long waiting the public has at length had some right done it in the article of household fuel, and this gives ground for hope that right will some day triumph in respect of provisions.

Nothing could look more hopeless than the high price of household coal did in the south of England a few years ago. Now it has become, rather suddenly, more moderate-the means having been found, after long waiting, of outflanking the destructive army of middlemen, and of bringing the colliery owner and the consumer into direct relation. An intermediate business, which for long enriched a few tradesmen, has been, or soon will be, eliminated; on the other hand, the population at large experience a marked relief in regard to an indispensable commodity. To the poor in winter, the boon of moderately priced coal must be inexpressibly welcome.

I

The word price has formed a link between ideas which, at first view, have little in common. pass from the price of commodities to the price of men.

What Walpole said about every man having his price, seems to be in these days applicable to persons in the employ of the State, who are intrusted with information or documents which it is their duty to keep secret. Every now and then occasions come about when it is worth the while of certain persons to pay highly for such information or documents, in order that they may make the same public; and it too often happens that public servants who have not the excuse of necessity or low wages to plead, yield to the temptation of a heavy bribe. It is no unusual thing for us to read in print some of the proceedings of Councils and Committees, which every one officially aware of them has been bound to keep secret: this remark applies to times when such proceedings may not be the subjects of great public curiosity or interest. But again, there are times when very much anxiety is felt concern

ing secret documents or opinions, when it is most inconvenient (to use a moderate word) to Cabinets or Councils that their proceedings should be known, and yet when means can be found of overcoming somebody's honour, honesty, or sense of duty, and of obtaining surreptitiously what official prescription has anxiously endeavoured to veil from public view.

I am led to these reflections by the premature disclosure, which occurred last autumn, of the heads of a Redistribution Bill which had been drawn up by a committee of the Cabinet. But I soon look back to the earlier betrayal of the proceedings of the Berlin Conference in 1878. And then I return still farther into the past, and think of the mysterious publication (in 1848, as I think) of the letter addressed by the first Duke of Wellington to Sir John Burgoyne, then Inspector-General of Fortifications, on the subject of our defences. Burgoyne was the last man in the world to make an improper use of a public document; and it may be assumed, without argument, that he had no idea that the document was in dishonest hands, until after it was in anybody's hands who was willing to pay sixpence for it. He probably could not avoid communicating to the Master-General of the Ordnance and others that he had received such a letter. Some artful person, by theft or cunning, got possession of the paper, copied it, and sold the copy to a newspaper. The story current was, that a lady of some notoriety, by gross misrepresentation, and by a solemn promise that no improper use should be made of it, obtained possession of the letter for an hour from a member of Burgoyne's family, who took it from his desk. One may imagine the state of mind of Sir John when he had to go to

the Duke, who had always thought highly of him, and to try to make his peace after such an unhappy occurrence. "Take damned good care you never let another letter of mine to you find its way into print!" were said to have been his Grace's words which ended the interview.

The Berlin Treaty disclosure was known to have been made by a temporarily employed clerk in the English Foreign Office. It seems to be a sad reproach to us of the nineteenth century, that we cannot secure the inviolability of our State papers and transactions. Richelieus, Fredericks, Metternichs, could avoid such exposure, to say nothing of the older Cabinets of the Escurial under Philip II., or of Venice in the days of our Tudor sovereigns. Yet we moderns, in the great age of invention, with all appliances and means at our disposal, cannot guard ourselves against the curious who will pay. Probably our inability in this respect may be traced to the manner of making Government appointments, to which our parliamentary system forces us. Had our Ministers the power of arbitrarily appointing and dismissing the secretaries, clerks, and others in their departments, they might find means of keeping these assistants faithful to their trusts. But with the mode of appointment now in fashion, and with the difficulties that lie in the way of getting rid of a public servant though he may be grievously suspected, it can hardly be but that affairs of State are now and then confided to employés who prove to be corruptible.

If the same kind of treachery was not complained of in earlier days, that probably was because there was then no ready market for stolen papers. That there were always weak natures ready to sac

was

rifice duty for pelf, I am afraid we have only too much warrant for saying. In old days it was a very lucrative commission to bring home a freight of specie from abroad. The senders of such valuable cargo were always especially glad if it could be confided to the captain of a man-of-war. Hence at those foreign stations whence we received the precious metals, there always a chance of a captain being sent to England with a treasure in the hold of his ship, for conveying which he would receive very substantial reward. When this could be done in due order that is to say, when the captain could take his rich freight by command of his superior-he was simply a fortunate individual. But such things used to be known as captains intriguing to get the offer of bullion freights; and then, forgetful of their duty and honour, leaving their stations without orders or

permission, and not caring for the dereliction of their duty as long as they could secure the dues for transporting the freight. Of course any man so acting had to face the decision of a court-martial on his conduct. But, unfortunately, the gain to be made by one voyage was sometimes so great as to tempt a commander to risk his commission to secure it. I remember an old captain who had done this, and contrived to escape punishment for his act. Unless he was most unwarrantably misrepresented, he used to be fond of bragging to his familiars of this achievement, and of saying "You see I put my commission in one hand and the freight-money in the other, and found the latter a devilish deal the better worth having of the two." Such venality in a postcaptain was quite as bad as any traffic in documents of which we have had to complain in later days.

To turn now from men who not only had their price, but who did not scruple to ticket themselves as open to a bid, it is pleasant to be reminded of one whose conscience was of a far severer order. Only a very few months since, it was notified to English-speaking men that Samuel Johnson had been dead a hundred years; and there was a proposal to mark the epoch by pilgrimages to Lichfield and commemorative ceremonies. The public did not, I think, incline very seriously to the demonstration; and probably those who best know how to value Johnson see no reason to regret that this was the case. For centenaries are becoming somewhat vulgar tributes, and our sturdy moralist still commands from his countrymen a

respect which would scarcely sort well with processions and spectacles. Had he left behind him simply the fame of a great author, there might have been something fitting in acting to enthusiastic audiences his tragedy, with Miss Ellen Terry for Irene, and an exceptionally powerful cast-in presenting the London of 120 years ago-in elaborating tableaux from the Prince of Abyssinia'; but the Johnson whom we revere today is the sage far more than the author. Our great-grandfathers and grandfathers did, I truly be lieve, regard the sonorous Doctor as a mighty leader in all the most majestic modes of letters. His drama, his didactic pieces, his essays, his biographies, and above all these, perhaps, his 'Rasselas,' were

considered to represent extraordinarily high flights of genius; but is it slander to say now that, except the celebrated Dictionary, hardly one of his volumes is ever moved from the shelf? I can remember having his "classic" tale put into my hand when I was a lad, as a sublime composition-a model of style and of construction, and a hive of wisdom; but I do not think I at that time was enticed far beyond the initial sentence wherein the drum is beat to call the audience together. How many of his lines. do we ever hear quoted to-day? Perhaps the name at which the world grew pale: I can remember no more. While a man might be presented with a guinea for every leaf of the Rambler' or 'Idler' which he has turned, and yet not be exceeding rich!

No; it is the social and conversational Doctor, the brave truehearted man, the denouncer of vice and profaneness-who could be neighbour to the poor and forsaken, who could stun pretenders with a concentrated sentence-the simple-living conscientious Colossus, to whom we look back with affectionate respect. Great gatherings and special observances would not create an appreciation of Johnson's great qualities if we had it not; and as fortunately we have it, and have retained it but little impaired for a hundred years, it is itself the best witness to his merit Ito which we can point. Being dead he yet speaketh, as Abel does. With commanding intellect, great acquirements, and many infirmities of both body and mind, he not ineffectually endeavoured to live agreeably to his high profession: his life, private and social, has been exhibited and sifted as few lives have been; he is seen to have been in the main firm, honest, and true, with many failings, especially

in small things, but free from grievous blot of any kind. Without birth or connections, without wealth or even competence, with nature in many ways against him, Johnson by force of character wrought for himself a dictatorship to which the well-born, the rich, the gifted, and the great submitted. A grand figure truly! but we have him effectually enshrined in the memory and sentiment of the nation. There is no need of going to Lichfield.

As I have been tracing the sentences immediately foregoing, it was impossible almost but that there should steal into my mind thought of a distinguished contemporary and friend of Johnson, who, in many respects, is antithetical to him. Dr Goldsmith deserves, and has found, a warm place in the hearts of posterity; but it is not his character, it is his sweet and pleasant writings for which we cherish his memory. His pen wound its way into the affections of men, charmed their ears, delighted their imaginations. He did not tower above them like Johnson; his voice came from among them, giving shape to their thoughts, articulating their cries, showing them to themselves in kindly groupings. How, being to the eye of his fellows what he appeared, he could give forth the utterances which delighted them, which delight us, and which will delight our posterity for generations, is one of the mysteries which for ever are confounding the world. Immensely inferior as he was to Johnson as a man, as a writer he left him far behind. Johnson's works (the Dictionary again excepted) are kept alive through our liking of their author; but it is not so with "Sweet Auburn or "The Primroses." They have immortalised Goldsmith; he did nothing for

them except bring them into the world. "A word in due season, how good is it!" though a true proverb, might be capped with one far more striking-viz., a few words well chosen, and chanted in the right key, how they stir men's minds and compel their sympathies!

The music, pictures, and large charity of "The Deserted Village were touches on the springs of feeling by a master-hand; yet one may fairly doubt whether the master was wholly conscious of the power that was in him. On that and on 'The Vicar of Wakefield' I suppose that his fame principally rests. But if we are to measure the public's appreciation by the tendency of writers and speakers to quote passages and bring them into familiar use, then the witty piece called "Retaliation" is his most successful effort. Its lines are handed about with great freedom often used in Parliament and in the lecture-room-much resorted to by critics and essayists, and passed as currency by many a talker who knows not at what mint they were coined. The characters sketched in the poem were those of individuals; the application of the sketches is of unlimited extent.

My earliest acquaintance with Goldsmith (and it came very early in my career) was through his ballad "The Hermit," which I, with some difficulty, got by heart. I was so young and so unpractised in poetical methods as not to be able to comprehend the situation in the opening without assistance; but I remember well how powerfully affected I was by the romance when once I received it. The verses took firm hold, have withstood "the whips and scorns of time,""In all my wanderings round this

world of care,

In all my griefs-and God has given my share,"

have presented themselves, and still do present themselves, though I have been face to face with time long enough to have forgotten many a thing which seemed more important than my childish task. Thus I am hardly an impartial judge; but it seems to me that, besides the sweet and kindly thoughts, and the affecting subject, the art shown in construction has much to do with the merit of the idyl. Simple as it reads, I should say there is very superior workmanship in it.

Now that peasant - proprietorships are so much in favour, Goldsmith's line

"When every rood of ground maintained its man

suggests itself as if it were just written for the occasion. The poet, singularly happy in expression, has supplied a text on the sentiment of which men of a complexion far different from his may wrangle, after he has been asleep for an age. But we must look to him for nothing more than the text he was not the man to take hard questions in his teeth and shake the truth out of them. No, happily he was not; for had he been given to demonstration, we should have wanted the inimitable pictures of the preacher, the pedagogue, the ale-house, the villagegreen, and the emigrants. I doubt if there be much wisdom in this delightful poem, and whether it may not have instilled into many minds grave mischievous error hidden in its surpassing sweets. But into its tendencies I will not now inquire; it is genuine poetry, brought pure from Helicon.

has

When one reflects on the many departments of the belles lettres in which Goldsmith's success stood the test of a century—certainly tale, drama, satire, eclogue,