biassed by prejudice, she could not doubt that Royston was by no means the most eligible object to centre her young affections upon. He carefully avoided discussion or display of any of his peculiar opinions in her presence; and on such occasions seemed inclined to soften his habitually sardonic and depreciatory tone. Once or twice, when they did disagree, she observed that he contrived to make some one else take her side, and then argued the point, as long as he thought it worth while, with the last opponent. Beyond the courtesy which invariably marked his demeanour towards her sex, this was the only sign of especial deference that he had shown. She never could detect the faintest approach to the adulation that hundreds had paid her, and which she had wearied of long ago. Nevertheless, she knew perfectly that on many subjects, generally considered all-important, they differed as widely as the poles.

;

Perpetual struggles between the spirit and the flesh made Cecil's heart an odd sort of debateable land: if she could not always ensure success and supremacy to the right side, she certainly did endeavour to preserve the balance of power. Personally she rather disliked Mr. Fullarton, but she seemed to look upon him as the embodiment of a principle, and the symbol of an abstraction. He represented there the Establishment which she had always been taught to venerate; and so she felt bound, as far as possible, to favour and support him just as Goring and Wilmot, and many more wild Cavaliers, fearing neither God nor devil, mingled in their war-cry church as well as king.. (Rather a rough comparison to apply to a well-intentioned demoiselle of the nineteenth century, but, I fancy, a correct one.) Thus, if she indulged herself in a long tête-à-tête with Keene, she was sure to be extraordinarily civil to the chaplain soon after; and if she devoted herself for a whole evening to the society of the priest and his family, the soldier was likely to benefit by it on the morrow. Unluckily, the sacrifice of inclination was all on one side.

The antagonists had never, as

VOL. LIX. NO. CCCXLIV.

727

It

yet, come into open collision. was not respect or fear that made them shy of the conflict, but rather a feeling, which neither could have explained to himself, resembling that of leaders of parties in the House, who decline measuring their strength against each other on questions of minor importance, reserving themselves for the final crisis, when the want-of-confidence vote shall come on. Once only there was a chance of a skirmish -the merest affair of outposts.

Keene had been calling on the Tresilyans one evening, in the official capacity of bearer of a verbal message from Mrs. Molyneux. It was the simplest one imaginable; but, as graver ambassadors have done before him, liking his quarters he dallied over his mission. (If Geneva, instead of Paris, were chosen for the meeting of a Congress, would not several knotty points be decided much more speedily?) When, at last, all was settled, it seemed very natural that he should petition Cecil for just one song; and you know what that always comes to. Royston never would turn over' if he could possibly avoid it; he considered it a wilful waste of advantages, for the strain on his attention, slight as it might be, quite spoilt his appreciation of the melody. Perhaps he was right. As a rule, if one wanted to discover the one person about whose approval the fair cantatrice is most solicitous, it would be well to look not immediately behind her ivory shoulder. At all events, he had made his peace with Miss Tresilyan on this point long ago. So he drew his arm-chair up near the piano, but out of her sight as she sang, and sat watching her intently through his half-closed eye

lids.

I marvel not that in so many legends of witchery and seduction since the Odyssey the θεσπεσίη ἀοίδη has borne its part. But,' the Wanderer might say, replying against Circe's warning, 'have we not learnt prudence and self-command from Athenè, the chaste Tritonid? Have not ten years under shield before Troy, and a thousand leagues of seafaring, made our hearts as hard as our hands, and

3 B

our ears deaf to the charms of song? Thus much of wisdom, at least, hath come with grizzled hair, that we may mock at temptations that might have won us when our cheeks were in their down. O most divinely fair of goddesses! have we not resisted your own enchantments? Shall we go forth scathless from Exa to perish on the Isle of the Sirens ?' But the low green hills are already on the weather-beam, and we are aware of a sweet weird chant that steals over the water like a living thing, and smooths the ripple where it passes. How fares it with our philosophic Laertiades P Those signs look strangely unlike incitements greater speed; and what mean those struggles to get loose? Well, perhaps, for the hero that the good hemp holds firm, and that Peribates and Eurylochus spring up to strengthen his bonds; well, that the wax seals fast the ears of those sturdy old sea-dogs who stretch to their oars till Ocean grows hoary behind the blades; or nobler bones might soon be added to the myriads that lie bleaching in the meadow, half hidden by its flowers. It was not, then, so very trivial the counsel that she gave in parting kindnessΚίρκη ἐϋπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα.

to

Are we in our generation wiser than the man of many wiles?' Dinner is over, and every one is going out into the pleasance, to listen to the nightingales.

'It will be delicious; there is nothing I should like so much; but I-I sprained my ankle in jumping that gate; and Amy' (that's my cousin who happens to sing'), 'I heard you cough three times this morning. You wont be so imprudent as to risk the night air? Ah, they are gone at last; and now, Amy dear-good, kindest Amy!open the especial crimson book quickly, and give me first your own pet song, and then mine, and then

The Three Fishers," and then "Maud," and then, I suppose, they will be coming back again; but by that time, they may be as enthusiastic as they please, we shall be able to meet them fairly.'

Things have changed since David's day; spirits are raised sometimes

now, as well as laid, by harp and song. In good truth, they are not always evil ones.

On that night, Royston Keene listened to the sweet voice that seemed to knock at the gates of his heart-gates shut so long that the bars had rusted in their staplesnot loudly or imperiously, but powerful in its plaintive appeal, like that of some one dearly loved, standing without in the bitter cold, and pleading-Ah, let me in!' He listened till a pleasant, dreamy feeling of domesticity began to creep over him that he had never known before. He could realize, then, that there were circumstances under which a man might easily dispense with high play, and hard riding, and hard flirting (to give it a mild name), and hard drinking, and other excitements which habit had almost turned into necessities, without missing any one of them. There were two words which ought to have put all these fancies to flight, as the writing on the wall scattered the guests of Belshazzar-Too Late." But he turned his head away, and would not read them. He had actually succeeded in ignoring another disenchanting realitythe presence of Mrs. Danvers. That estimable person seemed more than usually fidgetty, and disposed to make herself, as well as others, uncomfortable. There was evidently something on her mind from her glancing so often and nervously at the door. It opened at last softly, just as Cecil had finished The Swallow,' and revealed Mr. Fullarton standing on the threshold. The latter was not well pleased with the scene before him. There was an air of comfort about it which, under the circumstances, he thought decidedly wrong; besides which he could not get rid of a vague misgiving (the rarest thing with him!) that his visit was scarcely welcome or well-timed.

Miss Tresilyan rose instantly to greet the intruder (yes, that's the right word) with her usual calm courtesy. Very few words had been exchanged for the last hour, but she was perfectly aware-what woman is not?-of the influence she had exercised over her listener. That consciousness had made her

1859.]

strangely happy. So, she certainly could have survived the chaplain's absence. Royston Keene rose too, quite slowly. There are compounds, you know, that always remain soft and ductile in a certain temperature, but harden into stone at the first contact with the outer air. It was just so with him. Even as he moved, all gentle feelings were struck dead in his heart, and he stood up a harder man than ever, with no kinder emotion left than bitter anger at the interruption. He could not always command his eyes, he knew; and, if he had not passed his hand quickly over his face just then, their expression might have thrilled through the new comer disagreeably.

'Cecil, dearest,' Mrs Danvers said, with rather an awkward assumption of being perfectly at her ease, Mr. Fullarton was good enough to say he would come and read to us this evening, and explain some passages. I don't know why I forgot to tell you. I meant to do so; but Her look finished the sentence. Royston, like the others, guessed what she meant; and you may guess how he thanked her.

Čecil coloured with vexation. She was so anxious to prevent Mrs. Danvers from feeling dependent that she allowed her to take all sorts of liberties, and the amiable woman was not disposed to let the privilege fall into disuse. On the present occasion there was such an absurd incongruity of time and place, that she might possibly have tried to evade the exposition,' but she happened just then to meet Keene's eye. The sarcasm there

6

was not so carefully veiled as it usually was in her presence. Never yet was born Tresilyan who blenched from a challenge; so she answered at once to express 'her sense of Mr. Fullarton's kindness, and her regret that he had not come earlier in the evening.' If Royston had known how bitterly she despised herself for disingenuousness he would have been amply avenged.

Even while she was speaking he closed the piano very slowly and softly. It did not take him long to put on his impenetrable face, for when he turned round there was not a trace of anger there; the

729

scarce suppressed taunt in Cecil's last words moved him apparently no more than Mrs. Danvers' glance of triumph.

I owe you a thousand apologies,' he said, for staying such an unwarrantable time, and quite as many thanks for the pleasantest two hours I have spent in Dorade. Don't think I would detain you one moment from Mr. Fullarton and your devotional exercises. You knowno, you don't know-the verse in the ballad :

Amundeville may be lord by day,
But the monk is lord by night;
Nor wine nor wassail would stir a vassal

To question that friar's right.'
He went away then without another
word beyond the ordinary adieu.
Royston had a way of repeating
poetry peculiar to himself-rather
monotonous perhaps, but effective
from the depth and volume of his
voice. You gained in rhythm what
you lost in rhyme. The sound
seemed to linger in their ears after
he had closed the door.

As the echo of the firm strong footstep died away, a virtuous indignation possessed the broad visage of the divine.

'It is like Major Keene,' said he, 'to select as his text-book the most godless work of the satanic school; but I should have thought that even he would have paused before venturing, in this presence, on a quotation from Don Juan.'

:

At that awful word Mrs. Danvers gave a little shriek as if a bee had stung her newly.' Had she been a Catholic she would have crossed herself an indefinite number of times will you be good enough to imagine her protracted look of holy horror? Cecil's eyes were glittering with scornful humour as she answered, very demurely, 'What an advantage it is to be a large general reader! It enables one to impart so much information. Now, Bessie and I should never have guessed where those lines came from if you had not enlightened us. They seemed harmless enough in themselves; and Major Keene was considerate enough to leave us in our ignorance. So Byron comes within the scope of your studies, Mr. Fullarton. I thought you seldom indulged in such secular

authors?' The chaplain was quite right in making his reply inaudible: it would have been difficult to find a perfectly satisfactory one. However, the hour was late enough to excuse his beginning the reading without further delay. It was not a success. There was a stoppage somewhere in the current of his mellifluous eloquence; and the exposition was concluded so soon, and indeed abruptly, that Mrs. Danvers retired to rest with a feeling of disappointment and inanition, such as one may have experienced when, expecting a sit-down' supper, we are obliged to content ourselves with a meagrely furnished buffet. For some minutes after Mr. Fullarton had departed Miss Tresilyan sat silent, leaning her head upon her hand. At last she said, Bessie, dear, you know I would not interfere with your comforts or your arrangements for the world; but, the next time you wish to have a repetition of this, would you be so very good as to tell me beforehand? I think I shall spend that evening with Fanny Molyneux. I do not quite like it, and I am sure it does me no real good.'

She spoke so gently that Mrs. Danvers was going to attempt one of her querulous remonstrances, but she happened to look at the face of her patroness. It wore an expression not often seen there; but she was wise enough to interpret it aright, and to guess that she had gone far enough. It was ever a dangerous experiment to trifle with the Tresilyans, when their brows were bent. So she launched into some of her affectionate platitudes and profuse excuses, and under cover of these retreated to her rest. It is a comfort to reflect that she slept very soundly, though she monopolized all the slumber that night that ought to have fallen to Cecil's share.

What did Royston Keene think of the events of the evening? As he went down the stairs I am afraid he cursed the chaplain once heartily; but on the whole he was not dissatisfied. At all events, the short walk down to the club completely restored his sang-froid, and the last trace of vexation vanished as he entered the card-room, and saw the light of battle' gleam on the haggard face of Armand de Châteaumesnil.

WHAT

Peel once asked. The question is simple enough now, if it was not always so. There was once a time when men of considerable intelligence and good education might be pardoned if they hesitated how to answer it. There was a time when the pound most familiar to Englishmen was a piece of paper bearing the bank's 'promise to pay, a promise which had not been kept for twenty years. Before that time our principal money had been the silver shilling; and our golden money had been issued and received as worth so many shillings,-the number of shillings which were to be given for a golden piece of fixed size and weight being determined by law, and not always remaining the same. The habit of seeing gold and silver used together in payment, either being legal tender up to any amount, had tended to con

fuse men's minds as to the real character of the pound which was represented by that piece of paper before them; and when for twenty years there had been no means of exchanging the representation for the thing it represented, no wonder that there should be considerable doubt as to what that thing really

was.

Since 1819 there has been no excuse for any ignorance or doubt upon the subject. The Bank Act of that year disposed of the question once for all. It directed that the 'promise to pay' one pound should be redeemed; and it fixed the mode of redemption, by ordering the Bank to pay in gold, at the rate of one ounce of gold for each sum of £3 178. 10d. that it had promised. In doing this, the act determined for the future what the pound should be. Since that time no man has had any excuse for supposing it

1859.]

to be anything else than a piece of gold, containing a very little more than a quarter of an ounce.

It is necessary to be particular, even to tediousness, in explaining the simple principles of our monetary system, because many writers upon the subject have obscured it with elaborate and complicated theories, which treat money as a thing subject to peculiar laws of its own, difficult of comprehension, and entirely different from those which govern the production and distribution of all other articles of value. The fact is, that metallic money is simply a commodity like any other, possessing certain qualities which, while they in no way affect its relation to other commodities, fit it to render certain special services for which no other commodity is equally suitable. But all the laws which regulate the quantity, the distribution, and the value of all other kinds of wealth, are equally applicable to gold and silver as to corn and cotton. There is no mysterious virtue attached to them by nature which exempts them from those laws; and the artificial arrangements which constitute them the medium of exchange,' confer on them no advantage essentially dif ferent from those possessed by commodities in general, if we except that of being always marketable.

The rudest barter very soon suggests the want of a standard of value; of something by reference to which we may express in a positive form the relative values of dif ferent articles; the quantity of each which is equivalent in exchange to

a

certain quantity of another. Horses, oxen, spears, bows and arrows, tents, sheep, corn, skins, and other produce of rude tribes, are to be exchanged against one another. One horse may be reckoned worth half a dozen sheep; but this does not help us to know how many horses must be given for a tent, unless the tent also be rated at a certain number of sheep. A spear may exchange for a certain amount of corn; but if the purchaser have only skins to sell, this does not much help him to know how many skins he ought to give for the spear. The want of a common article, in general demand, which can be used

731

to measure the value of all other commodities, is generally felt. Gradually, in most cases, there grows up a habit of referring to one particular kind of wealth-perhaps to sheep-as a measure of all the rest. The horse is worth six sheep, the ox is worth three, the spear two, the tent twelve-and so on. And thus sheep are made into money, in one of its functions-that of serving as a standard of value. They are not a convenient one, it is true, inasmuch as one sheep differs so much from another in worth; but they form a far better standard than the imaginary one said to have been adopted by an African tribe. I have read that this people have so far advanced in intelligence as to have recourse to a wholly arbitrary measure of value; reckoning one article as worth ten, another twelve, another twenty, of a thing which does not exist, and is not even supposed to exist. Of course there is no security against any amount of variation in an imaginary standard; but custom probably fixes the nominal value of certain of the commodities most in request, and these will then determine the price of the rest.

But such a money does not serve at all, and cattle or sheep as money serve but very ill, the second purpose which money answers in all civilized communities-that of a medium of exchange. The exigencies even of a nascent trade require a means of purchase other than direct barter of commodities between producer and consumer. The consumer of corn may be only a producer of skins-a huntsman, or a shepherd, who has only sheep to sell; and the producer of corn may be in no immediate want of either, and may not be disposed to take them for the chance of getting in exchange for them what he does happen to want. He will much more readily accept anything that is always valuable in itself, is easily carried, and does not lose its value by keeping. And thus metalsfirst the coarser and cheaper, and then the more precious-come to be passed from hand to hand as money

given by purchasers to producers of other goods, who do not intend to keep the new commodity for their own use, but who receive it in order