would be comparatively indirect and little felt, because spread over a far larger area.

We can only hope that Americans will gradually see that they are after all only "cutting off their nose to spite their face," and hurting themselves a great deal more than anybody else. With the markets of the world open to us, we shall be able to get on, even though the half-dead giant Protection still manages to sit up in his cave apart and gnash his teeth at us. When an intelligent people see the advantages which we derive from our freer system, and a few more advances, such as that made under the treaty with France, have caused those advantages to be an article of popular belief here, as they must do before long, we can hardly doubt that the contagion will reach America too. Unless their spirit has become strangely changed, it cannot fail to be so.

No one will doubt that the policy which Mr. Bigelow advocates judiciously unites the advantages of being unchristian in its results, and foolish as regards the commercial interests of his country. It must also be confessed that it is extremely natural, especially in the frantic state of excitement which makes all Americans look through a distorting glass for the present. As to its bearings upon the sympathy with which Englishmen should regard America, we cannot say that we think it of any importance whatever. Whether it is desirable, or not desirable, for our commercial interests, that the North should be separated from the South, is far too large a question to be discussed here. But, to say the truth, the other interests involved are so enormously great, that we should consider it utterly unworthy of any Englishman, with a soul above that of a stockbroker, to consider the subject from this point of view. The North may possibly be wrong in carrying on the war; we do not now ask whether they are or are not; but no one can deny that the objects for which they fight are sufficiently intelligible, and that the war is, at any

rate, not liable to the reproach that it is carried on for trivial ends. We therefore protest against the attempt to make so superficial a question as this of tariffs the one which is to determine English sympathies. If the South wants free-trade, they want it just because it will directly increase their profits. If the North are protectionists, it is because they fancy (erroneously, it is true) that protection will do them good. When we remember how strenuously the battle was fought in this country, how stubbornly protection was demanded long after every unprejudiced observer could see that it was absolutely necessary to the interests of the country, we should be careful not to speak too comtemptuously of those who are now simply reproducing our own arguments. They are reproduced with a little more show, perhaps, of reasoning, because they have been more discussed of late years, and are put more roughly and more brutally, so to speak, because men's passions are more excited. But in judging of them, it is absurd to deny that morally, North and South are in this matter, exactly on a level. Intellectually, the Northern writers occupy an untenable position, no doubt, and one which no English writer could now maintain. But it is one which many of us occupied not long ago, and from which we were only driven by the plainest possible views of our own interest. We should, therefore, endeavour to speak of them with a little more generosity, and less arrogance than is common in the pages of some of our newspapers. We should endeavour to show our superiority to them, if we are conscious of it, by taking a view of the quarrel, not entirely determined by the pounds, shillings, and pence, or the immediate pecuniary interests of England. Meanwhile, we hope that, whenever they are again at peace, the advantages procurable by freedom of trade will have become so obvious, that they will have no chance but to follow the rest of the world in a path which ought to be more natural to no one than to Americans.

NELSON'S

CHAPTER I.

SWORD.

AMONG the bowery lanes of Woodfield stands a square red brick house of the Georgian era, old but not ancient, with narrow sash-windows and a black streetdoor, surmounted with a fan-shaped light decorated with meagre imitations of Gothic tracery painted white.

This domicile is called The Wood Grange, from its proximity to the last remnant of the aboriginal forest, which formerly extended over a considerable portion of the parish of Woodfield.

Those green lanes which intersect each other near the Grange, and have the appearance of four arcaded avenues of approach, were anciently glades cut through the forest-the first roads used in Woodfield.

In front of the house is a quaint, pleasant garden, fenced with a closeclipped tall privet hedge, resembling a green wall, so thick as to form a good screen from the north-east winds. A fruitful orchard occupies the background. The garden is separated from a meadow which skirts the wood by a picturesque pond, garlanded with aspens, elders, willows, ash, and other waterloving trees and plants.

Woodfield Grange was one of the favourite haunts of our celebrated Suffolk artist, Gainsborough, who was a friend and frequent visitor of its former possessor, and painted many of his sylvan sketches while sojourning beneath his roof. The oaken panels of the dull north parlour devoted to his use, which he called his studio, and those of his bedchamber, were enriched with original sketches from his brush.

I remember being struck with the beauty and nature of a life-like group of sunburnt peasant children gathering primroses in a nook of one of those

green bowery lanes near the Grange, and the arch expression of the faces of two merry urchins peeping over the shoulder of an elder brother, who was angling in a half-recumbent posture on the shady margin of the unmistakeable pond at the bottom of the garden, and evidently much inconvenienced by their intrusive curiosity in pressing upon him to watch his manœuvres while in the critical act of landing the perch he had hooked.

Then there were in his bedroom the whole-length portraits of two black-eyed maidens, apparently of the ages of thirteen and fourteen, in eager chase of a butterfly, attended by a spaniel as full of glee and animation as themselves, leaping up and baying at the object of their pursuit.

On an opposite panel the same damsels were depicted in soberer mood, walking hand in hand in a flowery parterre, wearing furbelowed blue silk dresses, point-lace stomachers and aprons, and blue high-heeled shoes with carnation-coloured rosettes. These and various of Gainsborough's unfinished studies from nature-which, if brought to the hammer in Christie's auctionrooms, would have realized more than enough to have bought the fee-simple of the Wood Grange Estate-have all disappeared; but how, when, and where they went, no one knows: not even the person who finally inherited the mansion has ever been able to ascertain.

The Wood Grange, it is true, remained empty for several years after the death of Gainsborough's friend; but it is certain that the abstraction of the panels enriched with those precious sketches was not effected at that period, as I saw them during the occupation of the mansion by Jolin Dashwater, the tenant to whom it was subsequently let.

This worthy, whom I must now have the honour of introducing as the hero of my historiette, was a fine old veteran seaman from Great Yarmouth. He was called, per courtesy, Captain Dashwater, having for many years commanded the swift-sailing packet between that town and Heligoland. He had reluctantly resigned that post in his seventieth year, in consequence of having rashly entered into the bonds of matrimony with a third wife of very unsuitable age. Perceiving that, unlike the affectionate and discreet matrons her predecessors, she had more love for balls, plays, and evening parties than for his society, he thought it prudent to remove with her into a retired neighbourhood, where few temptations to enter into scenes of dissipation were likely to occur, and they might both enjoy a life of innocent rural felicity. With this object in view, he secured a seven years' lease of the Wood Grange at a low rent; purchased a pony-gig and quiet pony, that he might have the pleasure of driving Mrs. D. to church, and occasionally to Scratchby, to have a look at the sea, and chat with the seafaring folk while she was making her purchases at the shops, or transacting business with her dressmaker: "the only thing," she said, that relieved her dulness in the outlandish place to which it had pleased Captain D. to transport her from the gay world of Great Yarmouth."

"Mrs. D.," remonstrated John Dashwater, "you are quite out of your reckoning in calling Woodfield an outlandish place, its only fault is it is four miles from the sea. I tell you, my dear, it is an inland place. Howsomever, I am going to set up a flagstaff tall enough for my old messmates to see as they are going down to the north, or up to London along the coast, that they may know where I have come to anchor. am thinking too, my dear, you would not be quite so dull if you had something to do in the way of useful employment; nor I either, if so be I had a little occupation to pass away the time, as I have been always accustomed to an active life."

I

"Pray, Captain D., what can you or I or any one else do here?" asked she, disdainfully. "We might have plenty to amuse us at dear old Yarmouth, if you would go back there, or even if you would hire a pretty little marine villa at Gorleston."

"No, no, no! Mrs. D.," said Captain. Dashwater; "I am not going to make such a fool of myself as to move backwards and forwards. I have taken a lease of this pretty house, and I mean to live here and be comfortable-that is, if you will allow me to be so; and, as we are spliced together for better or worse, I can only tell you it will be your best plan to rest in smooth waters. And now, as I am a dutiful husband, and don't wish to hide anything from my wife, I think it only proper to tell you that I am going over to Yarmouth to-morrow by the mail."

"Why not drive over in the ponygig, and then I can go with you, my dear?" suggested Mrs. Dashwater, eagerly.

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Because, messmate, it is too stiff a journey for poor Billy, and I sha'n't want you at all, for I am going to an auction on the Denes to buy a few things, such as you can be no judge of, to make these premises complete and suitable for us both," replied he.

"I think it very unhandsome of you, Captain D.-very unhandsome, indeed, to go to Yarmouth and leave me alone in this horrid dull place, where I don't know a creature!" exclaimed Mrs. Dashwater, indignantly; "and as for going to an auction without me to lay out our money, it is what I do not at all approve.'

Sorry for it, Mrs. D., but you will very well satisfied when you see the purchases," said the old seaman, who, when he had made up his mind, never allowed anything to shake his determination.

CHAPTER II.

THE next day, in defiance of all conjugal remonstrances, he was up and took his place outside the Yarmouth Mail at

six in the morning, to attend the auction. He returned in the evening with his purchases in a waggon, seated in state in an old boat that was perched on the top of a load of timbers from a brokenup wreck, the mast of a brig, a large chest of carpenter's tools, and a superannuated bathing-machine.

He bore a flag in each hand, with which he saluted the house as soon as he was near enough to be recognised by his indignant spouse.

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"What a cargo of detestable trash!" cried she, rushing to the door; and I wonder how you are ever to be got down from that fool's throne !" "Never you trouble about that, my dear," replied he, laughing. "Don't you know I am an old flying-fish?" Then, casting out a coil of rope, one end of which was fastened to the boat, he swung himself down with the activity of a squirrel, caught her in his arms, and attempted to close her lips with a hearty salute.

"Let me alone!" cried she, angrily rejecting the conjugal caress. "I am very much displeased with you, Mr. D."

Very sorry to hear it, messmate, for you look prettiest when you are pleased," replied Dashwater; "and you ought to be pleased, for I have brought you home some capital bargains."

"What use is all that wretched lumber to me, I wonder?" exclaimed Mrs. Dashwater contemptuously.

"Wait awhile till you see, my deary," rejoined her husband. "You know, Mrs. D., I bought, the day before yesterday, at Farmer Mills's auction, a cow, two pigs, a brood goose, twelve ducks, a score of hens, and a cock."

"Yes, my dear, like the fool you are; and, when they came home we had no place to put them in but the stable and the gig-house, and a precious row they have been making all day!" cried the indignant matron.

"Ay, ay! messmate, I believe you," exclaimed he, laughing, "for I heard them all at it this morning when I started, and thought I should catch it when I came home; but never mind, sweetheart; I am going to build houses

and coops for them all out of these timbers."

"And, pray, what are you going to do with that frightful old boat?" interrupted Mrs. Dashwater.

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'Why, my dear,” replied he, pointing to a handsome young mechanic, who now descended from the waggon," this honest chap, Carpenter Jack, and I are going to saw it in two to-morrow a-midships, and make a couple of prime alcoves out of the two ends, for me to smoke my pipe in with you by my side, with your stitching or knitting and knotting, when the sun shines, and you are in a good mind."

"I never shall be in a good mind, Mr. D., when I see such trash stuck up to make us look ridiculous," said Mrs. Dashwater, turning disdainfully away.

"Why, Mrs. D., my dear, don't be so cross-grained about what is meant to please you! You know all the skippers at Southtown and Gorleston have them for smoking-seats in their gardens."

"Only those who are very low, Mr. D. very low indeed! And pray, Mr. D., what on earth have you bought that article for?" continued Mrs. Dashwater, pointing to the bathing-machine? "I suppose to turn into a summerhouse, to complete our disgrace!"

Well, not exactly, my dear; though, as you perceive, it would do very nicely for the purpose you mention," replied old Dashwater, eyeing his purchase complacently, and rubbing his hands. "Yes, very nicely, if I gave it a lick of grassgreen paint to make it look rural, and fitted it up with a flagstaff to hoist one of my flags on a fine day; but I mean to turn it into something that will be very useful to you."

"I shall be happy to hear what that

can be."

"A travelling poultry-house, my dear."

"A travelling poultry-house!" ejaculated Mrs. Dashwater, with a look of ineffable scorn.

"Yes, my dear," rejoined he, rubbing his hands again: "a three-decker on wheels, which can be moved at the word of command to avoid the N.E

The

wind; but I see you don't quite comprehend my plan, so I'll explain. lower deck will be for goosey and her goslings; they will go in at the door, and a capital berth I shall make up for them. I shall put a shelf over their heads to make a second deck for the cock and hens, and fit it up with perches for them to roost on, and lockers for the hens' nests, which will tempt them to lay plenty of eggs. They shall have a companion-ladder outside, so that they may march in at the windows; and above them I shall put in another shelf, and fit up some snug pigeon-lockers. That is to be the first job Carpenter Jack and I start with after we have sawed the boat in two, and set up our alcoves."

"Carpenter Jack, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Dashwater; "and am I to be saddled with the trouble and expense of keeping and feeding him too?"

Jack touched his paper cap, and tried to look penitent for his unwelcome intrusion, while Captain Dashwater sturdily replied:

"In course, my dear, and I hope you and your maid will make him very comfortable, as he comes to oblige me. He is my old ship-carpenter's mate, as honest a lad as ever broke biscuit, and a very smart chap at his trade. He has promised to stay with me till he has put us all in tack, and I think it will not take less than a fortnight to do that."

Mrs. Dashwater heaved a sigh, that almost amounted to a groan of disapprobation, but said no more. She had been married six months, and, in the course of that period of conjugal experience, had learned that her old man was determined to be the master of his own house, in his own queer way. He was never out of temper, laughed at all her lectures, and did as he pleased.

CHAPTER III.

THE next morning Captain Dashwater and Carpenter Jack rose with the lark, and made the echoes of Woodfield Forest vocal with snatches of sea-songs,

accompanied with the rough music of their saws and hammers; while all the children from all the cottages in the lanes and back settlements of the parish hastened thither to watch their operations, with no less interest than if the performances were acts in a pantomime.

The boat was sawed in two the first day, to the infinite regret of the band of juvenile spectators, who had hoped to see her launched on the pond and sailing about there. And, though their nautical neighbour, goodnaturedly, took the trouble of explaining to them that, being no longer fit for the water, it was intended to make two pretty alcoves of the two ends, the youngsters pathetically lamented her destruction.

When this feat had been accomplished, the possibility of the two ends being upreared in the respective stations Captain Dashwood had assigned to them was doubted; but the energetic veteran, who was wont to declare "that he had scratched the word 'impossible' out of his dictionary," was at no loss on this occasion; for, saddling his dapplegrey pony, he ambled down to Scratchby, and, making his need known, in a rich nautical harangue, to the seafaring folk assembled at the pilot's lookout station on the centre cliff, he had the immediate offer of a dozen goodnatured ablebodied fellows, in blue jackets, to assist him in his difficulty. He rode home, in high glee, at the head of this jolly squadron of volunteers, and, aided by their active exertions, succeeded in uprearing his two alcoves, fixing them in very advantageous situations, and planting his tall flagstaff, surmounted with a vane to indicate the way of the wind, having the figure of a sailor with a pipe in his hand to act as pointer. He then hoisted his union jack with three cheers, in which he was lustily joined both by his nautical auxiliaries and the excited spectators of his proceedings, the peasantry of Woodfield, who, being released from their own labours at six o'clock in the evening, had hastened to the scene of action with their wives and children, postponing the enjoyment of their suppers till