XXI. MY HOME IN WALES.
In April, 1884, my friend and I quitted London, having permanently let our house in South Kensington to Mrs. Kemble. The strain of London life had become too great for me, and advancing years and narrowed income together counselled retreat in good time. I continued then and ever since, of course, to work for the Anti-vivisection cause; but I resigned my Honorary Secretaryship, June 26th, 1884, and left the entire charge of the office and of editing the Zoophilist to Mr. Bryan.[35]
A few months later I was disturbed to hear that the Hon. Stephen Coleridge (Lord Coleridge’s second son) who had always been particularly kind and considerate towards me, had started a fund to form a farewell testimonial to me from my fellow-workers. Mr. Coleridge addressed our leading members and friends in the following letter:—
“12, Ovington Gardens, S.W., “August, 1884.
“Sir or Madam,
“At the general meeting of the Victoria Street and International Societies for the Total Abolition of Vivisection, on the 26th June, Miss Frances Power Cobbe, for reasons set forth in the annual report, gave in her resignation of the post of Honorary Secretary, and it was accepted with deep reluctance.
“The executive committee, meeting shortly afterwards unanimously passed a resolution to the effect that the occasion ought not to be passed over by the Society unrecognised, and a list of subscribers to a testimonial for Miss Cobbe has been opened. The object of this letter is to acquaint you of these facts and to afford you the opportunity of adding your name to the list should you desire to do so.
“Year after year from the foundation of the Societies and before, Miss Cobbe has fought against the practice of the torture of animals with constant earnestness, conspicuous power, and enthusiasm born of a noble cause.
“That testimonials are too plentiful it may perhaps be urged with truth; but many of us who deprecate the practice of Vivisection feel that such a life as this, of honour and devotion, were it to stand unrecognised and unacknowledged, would mark us as entirely ungrateful.
“I remain, “Your faithful servant, “STEPHEN COLERIDGE.” (Honorary Secretary and Treasurer to the fund.)
In a short space of time, I was told, a thousand pounds was collected; and it was kindly and thoughtfully expended in buying me an annuity of £100 a year. The amount of labour and trouble which all these arrangements must have cost Mr. Stephen Coleridge must have been very great indeed, and only most genuine kindness of heart and regard for me could have induced him to undertake them. I was very much startled when I heard of this gift and very unwilling to accept it, as in some degree taking away the pleasurable sense I had had of working all along gratuitously for the poor beasts, and of having sacrificed for some years nearly all my literary earnings to devote myself to their cause. My objections were over-ruled by friendly insistence, and Lord Shaftesbury presented the Testimonial to me in the following letter:—
“24, Grosvenor Square, W., “February 26th, 1885.
“My dear Miss Cobbe,
“The Committee of the Anti-vivisection Society, and other contributors, have assigned to me the agreeable duty of requesting you to do them the kindness and the honour, to accept the accompanying Testimonial.
“It expresses, I can assure you, their deep and real sense of the vast services you have rendered to the world, by the devotion of your time, your talents and indefatigable zeal, to the assertion of principles which, though primarily brought into action for the benefit and protection of the inferior orders of the Creation, are of paramount importance to the honour and security of the whole Human Race.
“We heartily pray that you may enjoy all health and happiness in your retirement, which, we trust, will be but temporary. We shall frequently ask the aid of your counsels and live in hope of your speedy return to active exertion, in the career in which you have laboured so vigorously, and which you so sincerely love.
“Believe me to be, “Very truly yours, “SHAFTESBURY.”
I acknowledged Lord Shaftesbury’s letter as follows:—
“Hengwrt, Dolgelly, N. Wales, “February 27th.
“Dear Lord Shaftesbury,
“I find it very difficult to express to you the feelings with which I have just read your letter, and received the noble gift which accompanied it. You and all the good friends and fellow-workers who have thus done me honour and kindness will have added much to the material comfort and enjoyment of such years as may remain to me; but you have done still more for me, by filling my heart with the happy sense of being cared for.
“That you should estimate such work as I have been able to do so highly as your letter expresses, while it far surpasses anything I can myself think I have accomplished, yet makes me very proud and very thankful to God.
“Whatever has been done by me in the way of raising up opposition to scientific cruelty has been attained only because I had the inestimable advantage of being supported and guided by you from first to last, and aided step by step by the unwearied sympathy and co-operation of my dear and generous fellow-labourers.
“These words are very inadequate to convey my thanks to you for this gift and all your past goodness towards me, and those which I would fain offer through you to the Committee and all the Subscribers to this splendid Testimonial; especially to the Hon. Secretary, who has undertaken the great trouble which the collection of it must have involved. I can but repeat, I thank you and them with my whole heart.
“Most sincerely, dear Lord Shaftesbury, and “Gratefully yours, “FRANCES POWER COBBE.”
This addition to my little income made up for certain losses which I had incurred, and raised it to about its original moderate level, enabling me to share the expenses of our Welsh cottage. I was, however, of course, a poor woman, and not in a position to help my friend to live (as we both earnestly desired to do) in her larger house in Hengwrt. We made an effort to arrange it so, loving the place and enjoying the beauty of the woods and gardens exceedingly. But we knew it could not be our permanent home; and a suitable tenant having come on the field, offering to take it for a term of years which would naturally reach beyond our lives, we felt that the end of our possession was drawing near. I was very sorrowful for my own sake, and still more for that of my friend who had always had peculiar attachment to the place. I reflected painfully that if I had been only a little better off, she might not have been obliged to relinquish her proper home.
All this was occupying me much. It was a Thursday morning, and the gentleman who proposed to become the tenant of Hengwrt was to come on Monday to make a definite offer which,—once accepted,—would have been held to bind my friend.
I went downstairs into the old oak hall in the morning and opened the post-bag. Among the large packet of letters which usually awaits me there was one from a solicitor in Liverpool. I knew that my kind old friend Mrs. Yates had died the week before, and I had been informed that she had left me her residuary legatee; but I imagined her to be in narrow circumstances, and that a few hundreds would be the uttermost of my possible inheritance; not sufficient, at all events, to affect appreciably my available income. I opened the Solicitor’s letter very coolly and found myself to be,—so far as all my wants and wishes extend,—a rich woman.
The story of this legacy is a very touching one. I never saw or heard of Mrs. Yates till a few years before her death, and when she was already very aged. She began by sending large and generous donations of £50, and £80, at a time to our Society. Later, she came up from Liverpool to London when I was managing affairs without a Secretary, and, finding me at the office, she gave me a still larger donation, actually in bank-notes. She was an Unitarian, or rather a Theist, like myself; and having taken very warm interest in my books, she seemed to be drawn to me by a double sympathy, both on account of religious sympathies, and those we shared on behalf of the vivisected animals. Of course I explained to her the details of my work, and she took the warmest interest in it. After I resigned my office of Honorary Secretary, she seemed to prefer to give her principal contributions personally to me to expend for the cause according to my judgment, and twice she sent me large sums, with strictest injunction to keep her name, and even the locality of the donor, secret. I called these gifts my Trust Fund, and made grants from it to working allies all over the world. I also spent a great deal of it in printing large quantities of papers. Of course I began by sending her a balance sheet of my expenditure; but this she forbade me to repeat, so I could only from time to time write her long letters (copied for me by my friend as my writing taxed her sight), telling her all we were doing. At last she came to see us here in answer to our repeated invitations, but could not be persuaded to stop more than one night. Talking to me out walking, she asked me: “Would I take charge of some money she wished to leave for protection of animals in Liverpool?” I answered that I could not engage to do this, and begged her to entrust it (as she eventually did) to some friend resident in the place. Then she said shyly: “Well, you do not object to my leaving you something for yourself—to my making you my residuary legatee?” adding to the question some words of affection. Of course I could only press her hand and say I was grateful for her kind thought. She did it all so simply, that, being prepossessed with the idea that she was in rather narrow circumstances, and that she had already given me the savings of her lifetime in the Trust Fund, it never even occurred to me that this residuary legateeship could be an important matter, after she had provided (as she was sure to do) for all legitimate claims upon her. Nothing could exceed my astonishment when I found how large was the sum bequeathed in this unpretending way. My friend thought I must be ill from the difficulty I seem to have found in commanding my voice to tell her the strange news when she came into the hall, a quarter of an hour after I had read that epoch-making letter!
Certainly never was a great gift made with such perfect delicacy. Mrs. Yates had taken care that I should have no reason, so long as she lived, to suppose myself under any personal obligation to her. Since then, it may be believed that my heart has never ceased to cherish her memory with tender gratitude, and to associate the thought of her with all the comforts of the home which her wealth has secured for me.
Mrs. Yates, at the time I knew her, had been for thirty or forty years the widow of Mr. Richard Vaughan Yates, a Liverpool Merchant. The following obituary notice of her appeared in the Zoophilist, November 2nd, 1891. I may add that beside her personal legacy to me (given simply by her will to “her friend Miss Frances Power Cobbe,” without comment of any kind) Mrs. Yates gave £1,000 to the Victoria Street Society, as well as £1,000 to the Liverpool Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals; both bequests being over and above legacies to her executors, relatives and dependents:—
“OBITUARY.
“THE LATE MRS. YATES.
“The Victoria Street Society and the cause of Anti-vivisection have lost their most generous supporter in Mrs. Richard Yates, of Liverpool; a good and noble woman if ever there were one. Born in humble circumstances, she was one of the truest gentlewomen who ever lived. Her wide cultivation of mind, broadly liberal but deeply religious spirit and sound, clear judgment, remained conspicuous even in extreme old age. The hearts of those whom she aided in their toil for the poor brutes, with a generosity only equalled by the delicacy of its manifestations, will ever keep her memory in tender and grateful respect.”
A warmly-feeling article in the Inquirer, October 10th, 1891, known to be by her friend and pastor, Rev. Valentine Davies, gave the following sketch of her life. It is due to her whose generosity has so brightened my later years, that my autobiography should contain some such record of her goodness and usefulness.
“MRS. RICHARD VAUGHAN YATES.
“On Thursday evening, October 1st, there passed peacefully away one who was the last of her generation; bearing a name honoured in Liverpool since the Rev. John Yates, in the latter part of last century and the early years of this, ministered in Paradise Street Chapel, and his sons took their places in the first rank of the merchants and philanthropic citizens of the town. Anne Simpson was born November 10th, 1805, and to the last retained happy recollections of her childhood’s home, a simple cottage in the pleasant Cheshire country. She married, in the midsummer of 1832, Mr. Richard Vaughan Yates, having first spent a year (for purposes of education) in the household of Dr. Lant Carpenter, at Bristol, of whom she always spoke with great veneration. Richly endowed with natural grace and delicacy of feeling, true nobility of heart, and great simplicity, sustained by earnest religious feeling and a strong sense of duty, there was never happier choice than this, which gave to Mrs. Yates the larger opportunities of wealth and freedom in society. She shared her husband’s interest in many philanthropic labours, his care for the Harrington Schools, founded by his father, and for the Liverpool Institute, his pleasure and his anxieties in the making of the Prince’s Park, opened in 1849, as his gift to the town. She shared also to the full his delight in works of art and in foreign travel. The late Rev. Charles Wicksteed published some charming reminiscences of one of their Italian journeys; and still more notable was that journey through Egypt, Sinai, and Palestine, recorded by Miss Harriet Martineau in her Eastern Travel.
“Since her husband’s death, in 1856, Mrs. Yates has stood bravely alone, living very quietly, but keenly alive to all the interests of the world, with ardent sympathy for every righteous cause, and generous help ever ready for public needs as for private charity. No one will ever know the full measure of her acts of kindness, her care for the least defended, her many quiet ways of doing good. She was a great lover of dumb creatures, and felt a passionate indignation at every kind of cruelty. Four-footed waifs and strays often found a pleasant refuge in her house, and for many years she was an active worker for the local branch of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. The cabmen and donkey-boys of Liverpool at their annual suppers have long been familiar with her kindly face and gracious word, and many a time has her intrepid protest checked an act of cruelty in the public streets. The friend of Frances Power Cobbe, she took a deep and painful interest in the work of the Victoria Street Society for the Suppression of Vivisection, and sustained its work through many years by generous gifts. Herself a solitary woman in these later years, it was to the solitary and defenceless that her sympathies most quickly went. She desired for women larger powers to defend their own helplessness, to share in government for the amelioration of society, and to share also in the world’s work. She had a surprising energy and persistence of will in attending to her own affairs and doing the unselfish work she had most at heart. With a plain tenacity to the duty that was clear, she went out to the last, whenever it was possible, to vote at every election where she had a vote to give, and to attend meetings of a political and useful social character. Hers was a life of great unselfishness and true humility. Suffering most of all through sympathy with others, she longed for more light to dissipate the darker shadows of the world. And she herself, wherever it was possible to her patient faithfulness and generous kindness, drove away the darkness, praying thus the best of prayers, and making light and gladness in innumerable hearts.
“After only a few days of illness she fell asleep. A memorial service was held on Sunday last in the Ancient Chapel of Toxteth, where for many years she regularly worshipped. The Rev. V. D. Davis preached the sermon, and also on the following day, at the Birkenhead Flaybrick Hill Cemetery, spoke the words of faith at her grave.”—Inquirer, October 10th.
I have erected over her last resting-place (as I learned that she disliked heavy horizontal tombstones), a large upright slab of polished red Aberdeen granite. After her name and the dates of her birth and death, Shakespeare’s singularly appropriate line is inscribed on the stone:—
“SWEET MERCY IS NOBILITY’S TRUE BADGE.”
On receiving that eventful Thursday morning the news of the unlooked-for riches which had fallen to my lot, our first act was naturally to telegraph to the would-be tenant that “another offer” (to wit mine!) “had been accepted for Hengwrt.” The miseries of house-letting and home-leaving were over for us, we trust, so long as our lives may last.
There is not much more to be told in this last chapter of my story. The expansion of life in many directions which wealth brings with it, is as easy and pleasant as the contraction of it by poverty is the reverse. Yet I have not altered the opinion I formed long ago when I became poor after my father’s death, that the importance we commonly attach to pecuniary conditions is somewhat exaggerated, (so long as a competence is left) and that other things,—for example, the possession of good walking powers, or of strong eyesight or of good hearing, not to speak of the still more precious things of the affections and spirit,—are larger elements, by far, in human happiness than that which riches contributes thereto. Of course I have been very glad of this unlooked-for wealth in my old age. I have felt, first and before all things else, the immense satisfaction of being able to help the Anti-vivisection cause in all parts of the world while I live, and to provide for some further continuance of such help after I die. And next to this I have rejoiced that the comfort and repose of our beautiful and beloved home is secured to my friend and myself.
The friendly reader who has travelled with me through the journey of my three-score years and ten, from my singularly happy childhood in my old home at Newbridge to this far bourne on the road, will now, I hope, leave me with kindly wishes for a peaceful evening, and a not-too-distant curfew bell; in this dear old house, and with my beloved friend for companion.
The photograph of Hengwrt, which will be inserted in these last pages, gives a good idea of the house itself, but can convey none of the beauty of the rivers, woods and mountains all round. No spot in the kingdom I think, not even in the lovely Lake country, unites so many elements of beauty as this part of Wales. The mountains are not very lofty,—even glorious Cader where the giant Idris, (so says the legend) sat in the rocky “chair” (Cader) on the summit and studied the stars,—is trifling compared to Alpine height, and a molehill to Andes and Himalayas; yet is its form, and that of all these Cambrian rocks, so majestic, and their tilt so great, that no one could treat them as merely hills, or liken them to Irish mountains which resemble banks of rainclouds on the horizon. The deep, true, purple heather and the emerald-green fern robe these Welsh mountains in summer in regal splendour of colouring; and in autumn wrap them in rich russet brown cloaks. Down between every chain and ridge rush brooks, always bright and clear, and in many places leaping into lovely waterfalls. The “broad and brawling Mawddach” runs through all the valley from heights far out of sight, till, just below Hengwrt, it meets the almost equally beautiful stream of the Wnion, and the two together wind their way through the tidal estuary out into the sea at “Aber-mawddach” or “Abermaw,”—in English “Barmouth,” eight miles to the west. On both north and south of the valley and on the sides of the mountains, are woods, endless woods, of oak and larch and Scotch fir, interspersed with sycamore, wild cherry, horse-chestnut, elm, holly, and an occasional beech. Never was there a country in which were to be found growing freely and almost wild, so many different kinds of trees, creating of course the loveliest wood-scenery and variety of colouring. The oaks and elms and sycamores which grow in Hengwrt itself, are the oldest and some of the finest in this part of Wales; and here also flourish the largest laurels and rhododendrons I have ever seen anywhere. The luxuriance of their growth, towering high on each side of the avenue and in the shrubberies is a constant subject of astonishment to our visitors. The blossoms of the rhodos are sometimes twenty or twenty-five feet from the ground; and the laurels almost resemble forest trees. It has been one of my chief pleasures here to prune and clip and clear the way for these beautiful shrubs. Through the midst of them all, from one end of the place to the other, rushes the dearest little brook in the world, singing away constantly in so human a tone that over and over again I have paused in my labours of saw and clippers, and said to myself: “There must be some one talking in that walk! It is a lady’s voice, too! It can’t be only the brook this time!” But the brook it has always proved to be on further investigation.
Of the interior of this dear old home I shall not write now. It is interesting from its age,—one of the oak-panelled rooms contains a bed placed there at the dissolution of the neighbouring monastery of Cymmer Abbey,—but it is not in the least a gloomy house; altogether the reverse. The drawing-room commands a view to right and left of almost the whole valley of the Mawddach for nine or ten miles; and just opposite lies the pretty village of Llanelltyd, at the foot of the wooded hills which rise up behind it to the heights of Moel Ispry and Cefn Cam. It is a panorama of splendid scenery, not darkening the room, but making one side of it into a great picture full of exquisite details of old stone bridge and ruined abbey, rivers, woods, and rocks.
Among the objects in that wide view, and also in the still more extensive one from my bedroom above, is the little ivy-covered church of Llanelltyd; and below it a bit of ground sloping to the westering sun, dotted over with grey and white stones where “the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep,” together with a few others who have been our friends and neighbours. There, in that quiet enclosure, will, in all probability, be the bourne of my long journey of life, with a grey headstone for the “Finis” of the last chapter of the Book which I have first lived, and now have written.
I hope that the reader, who perhaps may drive some day along the road below, in the enjoyment of an autumn holiday in this lovely land, will cast a glance upon that churchyard, and give a kindly thought to me when I have gone to rest.
* * * * *
September, 1898.
The grey granite stone is standing already in Llanelltyd burying ground, though my place beneath it still waits for me. The friend who made my life so happy when I wrote the last pages of this book, and who had then done so for thirty-four blessed years,—lies there, under the rose trees and the mignonette; alone, till I may be laid beside her.
It would be some poor comfort to me in my loneliness to write here some little account of Mary Charlotte Lloyd, and to describe her keen, highly-cultivated intellect, her quick sense of humour, her gifts as sculptor and painter (the pupil and friend of John Gibson and of Rosa Bonheur); her practical ability and strict justice in the administration of her estate; above all to speak of her character, “cast”—as one who knew her from childhood said,—“in an heroic mould,” of fortitude and loftiness; her absolute unselfishness in all things large and small. But the reticence which belonged to the greatness of her nature made her always refuse to allow me to lead her into the more public life whereto my work necessarily brought me, and in her last sacred directions she forbids me to commemorate her by any written record. Only, then, in the hearts of the few who really knew her must her noble memory live.
I wrote the following lines to her some twenty-five years ago when spending a few days away from her and our home in London. I found them again after her death among her papers. They have a doubled meaning for me now, when the time has come for me to need her most of all.
TO MARY C. LLOYD.
Written in Hartley Combe, Liss, about 1873.
Friend of my life! Whene’er my eyes Beat with sudden, glad surprise On Nature’s scenes of earth and air Sublimely grand, or sweetly fair, I want you—Mary.
When men and women, gifted, free, Speak their fresh thoughts ungrudgingly, And springing forth, each kindling mind Streams like a meteor in the wind, I want you—Mary.
When soft the summer evenings close, And crimson in the sunset rose, Our Cader glows, majestic, grand, The crown of all your lovely land, I want you—Mary.
And when the winter nights come round, To our “ain fireside,” cheerly bound, With our dear Rembrandt Girl, so brown, Smiling serenely on us down, I want you—Mary.
Now,—while the vigorous pulses leap Still strong within my spirit’s deep, Now, while my yet unwearied brain Weaves its thick web of thoughts amain, I want you—Mary.
Hereafter, when slow ebbs the tide, And age drains out my strength and pride, And dim-grown eyes and trembling hand No longer list my soul’s command, I’ll want you—Mary.
In joy and grief, in good and ill, Friend of my heart! I need you still; My Playmate, Friend, Companion, Love, To dwell with here, to clasp above, I want you—Mary.
For O! if past the gates of Death To me the Unseen openeth Immortal joys to angels given, Upon the holy heights of Heaven I’ll want you—Mary!
* * * * *
God has given me two priceless benedictions in life;—in my youth a perfect Mother; in my later years, a perfect Friend. No other gifts, had I possessed them, Genius, or beauty, or fame, or the wealth of the Indies, would have been worthy to compare with the joy of those affections. To live in companionship, almost unbroken by separation and never marred by a doubt or a rough word, with a mind in whose workings my own found inexhaustible interest, and my heart its rest; a friend who knew me better than any one beside could ever know me, and yet,—strange to think!—could love me better than any other,—this was happiness for which, even now that it is over, I thank God from the depths of my soul. I thank Him that I have had such a Friend. And I thank Him that she died without prolonged suffering or distress, with her head resting on my breast and her hand pressing mine; calm and courageous to the last. Her old physician said when all was over: “I have seen many, a great many, men and women die; but I never saw one die so bravely.”
It has been possible for me through the kindness of my friend’s sister, to whom Hengwrt now belongs, to obtain for my remaining months or years a lease of this dear old house and beautiful grounds; and my winters of entire solitude, and summers, when a few friends and relations gather round me, glide rapidly away. I am still struggling on, as my friend bade me (literally with her dying breath), working for the cause of the science-tortured brutes, and I have even spoken again in public, and written many pamphlets and letters for the press. I hope, as Tennyson told me to do, to “fight the good fight” quite to the end. But there is a price which every aged heart perforce must pay for the long enjoyment of one soul-satisfying affection. When that affection is lost, it must be evermore lonely.
* * * * *
INDEX
A
Abengo, 243
Adams, Mr., 670
Adelsburg, Cave of, 265
Adlam, Mr. and Mrs., 661
Airlie, Lord, 639
Aitken, Mary Carlyle, 539
Ajalon, Valley of, 243
Aldobrandini, 623
Alexandria, 229
Alfort, 620
Alger, Rev. W., 499
Allbut, Dr. Clifford, 600
Allen, Mrs. Fairchild, 662
“Alone, to the Alone,” 408
American Visitors, 499
Amos, Sheldon, 461, 657
Amphlett, Mr. Justice, 593
Amsterdam, 670
Ansano, 376
Apennines, 268, 375
Appleton, Dr., 373, 624
Apthorp, Mr. and Mrs., 225, 269, 499
Archer, Mrs., 337
Archibald, Mr. Justice, 593
Ardgillan, 12, 197
Argaum, 20, 210
Armstrong, Rev. R., 421
Arnold, Mr. Arthur, 430, 436 Mrs., 679
Arnold, Sir Edwin, 629
Arnold, Matthew, 180, 390, 469, 486, 497
Arnold, Dr., 672
Ashburton, Lord, 7
Assaye, 20, 210
Assisi, 365
Athens, 254, 256
Ayrton, Mr., 464
d’Azeglio, Massimo, 365, 369, 395, 444
B
Baalbec, 243, 246, 248
Babbage, Mr., 458, 559
Bacon, 94
Bagehot, Mr., 468
Baldelli, Countess of, 661
Balfour, J. H., 625
Ballard, Mrs. Laura Curtis, 592
Balisk, 137, 144, 147, 156
Barbauld, Mrs., 37
Barmouth, 706
Barnum, 565
Barry, Bishop, 671
Baths (Introduction of into England), 169
Bath, 16, 20, 24, 40, 682
Bath and Wells, Bishop of, 629
Bathurst, Miss, 275
Beard, Rev. C., 421, 524
Becker, Miss, 586
Beddoe, Mrs., 607
Beddoe, Dr. John, 607
Bell, Sir C., 538
Bell, Mr. E., 661, 677
Belloc, Madame, 586
Bellosguardo, 269, 375
Bennett, Sir Sterndale, 532
Bentley, Mr., 575–576
Berchet, 66
Berdoe, Dr., 671, 672, 681
Beresford, Marcus, Primate of Ireland, 11, 629
Beresford, Lady, 11
Beresford, Sir Tristram, 11
Berkeley, Bishop, 19
Berlin, 661
Bernard, Claude, 637, 676
Bert, Paul, 676
Bethany, 243
Bethlehem, 236
Bewick, 179
Beyrout, 243, 250
Bhagvat-Gita, 495
Biedermann, Rev. W. and Mrs., 269
Bilson, Bishop, 7
Bishop, Mr., 379
Bishop, Mrs., 496
Blackburn, Justice, 593
Black Forest, (Poem composed in), 270
Blagden, Miss, 269, 352, 375, 376, 622
Blunt, Rev. Gerard, 629
Bodichon, Madame, 171, 466, 577, 638
Boehmen, Jacob, 17
Bologna, 365
Bombay Parsee Society, 421
Bonheur, Rosa, 393, seq., 708
Bonaparte, Prince Lucien, 635, 657
Borrow, George, 479, seq.
Boston, 113
Bost, M. Theodore, 496
Botticelli, 225
Bowie, Dr., 672
Bowen, Lord Justice, 383
Bowring, Sir John, 480
Boxall, Sir W., 560, seq.
Brabant, Dr., 352
Brahmos of Bengal, 491
Bramwell, Baron, 593
Bray, Mr. and Mrs., 92
Bright, John, 461, 589, 629
Bright, Mrs. Jacob, 587
Brighton, 57
Bristol, 57, chapter x. 617
British Union, 691
“Broken Lights,” 400
Brooke, Stopford, 93
Brookfield, Mrs., 478
Brown, Baldwin, 660
Brown, Dr. J., 9, 224
Browne, Mrs. Woolcott, 360
Browning, Robert and Mrs., 263, 269, 365, 374, 378, seq., 457, 466, 556, 575, 577, 629
Brunton, Dr. Lauder, 626
Bryan, Mr., 672, 680, 695
Bryant, Miss, 679
Buckley, Mrs., 308
Burleigh, Celia, 592
Bunsen, 365
Bunting, Mr., 421, 595
Burntisland, 387
Bute, Marquis of, 653, 679
Butler, Mrs. J., 577
Buxton, Mr., 461
Byfleet, 471, 446
Byron, 257, 258, 383, 475, 616
Byron, Lady, 275, 291, 475, seq.
C
Cader, Idris, 346, 705
Cahir, Lady, 167
Cairo, 231
Cairnes, Professor, 461
Calmet (Dictionary), 82
Campbell, 668
Camperdown, Countess of, 629, 647, 679
Canary, 311
Cardwell, Lord, 627, 655
Carlow, 8
Carlyle, Thomas, 538, seq., 558, 629, 650
Carnarvon, Lord, 653, 668
Caramania, 240
Carpenter, Mary, 275, seq., 475, 577, 583
Carpenter, Professor Estlin, 287
Carpenter, Philip, 287
Carpenter, Dr., 452, 454, 482
Cartwright, Mr., 669, 675
Castlemaine, Lady, 192
Cavour, 366, 389
Cellini, 391
Cervantes, 179
Chambers, Robert, 195
Champion, Colonel and Mrs., 23, 24
Channing, Rev. W. H., 492, 499, 524, 678
Charles, Justice, 593
Charley, 40, seq.
Chaloner, James, 7
Charcot, Dr., 321
Churchill, Lord R., 15
“Cities of the Past,” 399
Clarke, Rev. J. Freeman, 499
Clarke, Dr., 671, 672
Clay, Dr., 669
Clewer, 322
Clerk, Miss, 337
Clifton, 338, 352, 360
Close, Dean of Carlisle, 632
Clough, Arthur, 90, 374
Cobbe, Frances Power, Birth, 31; School, 57; Mother’s death, 99; First book, 110; Leaves Newbridge, 213; in Bristol, 275; Settles in London, 395; Leaves London, 580
Cobbe, Lady Betty, 11
Cobbe, Frances Conway, 388
Cobbe, Rev. Henry, 13, 44
Cobbe, George, 43
Cobbe, William, 41, 43
Cobbe, Thomas, 10, 43, 578
Cobbe, Charles, 20, seq., 100, seq., 206, seq., 212
Cobbe, Sophia and Eliza, 464
Cobbe, Helen, 204, 212
Cockburn, Lord, Chief Justice, 593
Colam, Mr., 626, seq., 636
Colenso, Bishop, 97, 400, 404, 451, 540
Colenso, Mrs., 453
Coleridge, Hon. Bernard, 671
Coleridge, Lord, 549, 560, 561, 593, 629, 648, 695
Coleridge, Hon. Stephen, 689, 690, 695, 696
Collins, Wilkie, 558
Combe, George, 576
Comet (of 1835), 52
Condorcet, 187
Constantinople, 261
Conversion, 88
Conway, Captain T., 7
Conway, Adjutant General, 43
Copenhagen, 661
Corsi, 623
Corsini, 623
Corfu, 264
Coutts, Lady Burdett, 636
Cowie, Mr. James, 621
Cowper-Temple, Hon. W., 318
Cox, Sir G. W., 452
Crabbe, 11
Craig, Isa, 316
Crampton, Sir Philip, 46
Crawford, Mr. Oswald, 421
Crimean War, 173
Crofton, Sir Walter, 291
Crosby & Nichols, 113
Cross, Lord, 639
Cross, Mr., 653, seq.
Cunningham, Rev. W., 373, 374
Curtis, Mr. George, 499
Curraghmore, 12
Cushman, Charlotte, 365, 391, 392
Cyon, 553
Cyclades, 240
Cyprus, 252
D
Dall, Mr., 496
Daly, Miss, 50
Damascus, 243
Darwin, Charles, 180, 423, 485, seq., 540, 618, 640, 643
Darwin, Erasmus, 485, 490
Davies, Rev. V., 702
“Dawning Lights,” 483
Dead Sea, 240
Dean, Rev. Peter, 375
Decies, Lord, 22
Denison, Archdeacon, 542
Denman, Mr. Justice, 593
Deraismes, Mademoiselle, 671
Devis, Mrs., 23, 58
Devon, Lord, 194
De Wette, 452
Dicey, Mrs., 478
Djinns, 247
Donabate, 100, 137
Donegal, 101
Donne, W., 576
Donnelly, Mr. William, 141
Dorchester House, 26, 143
Downshire, Marquis of, 193
Drumcar, 169, 192
Dublin, 8, 104
Durdham Down, 303
“Duties of Women,” 570, 601
Dyke, Sir W. Hart, 639
E
Eastlake, Lady, 391
Easton Lyss, 445, 578
Edgeworth, Miss, 44, 179
Edwards, The Misses Betham, 558
Edwards, Passmore, 436
Egypt, 219
Eliot, George, 92, 444, 578
Elliot, Dean, 359
Elliot, Miss, 277, 307, seq., 333, 359, 385, 387, 448, 458
Elliot, Sir Frederick, 635, 639, 647, 650
Ellicott, Bishop, 648
Emigration, 157
Empson, Mr., 300
Enniskillen, Lord, 194
Erichsen, Dr., 642, 644
Escott, Mr., 380
Essays and Reviews, 89
Euphrates, 40
Evans, Mrs., 186, seq.
Evans, George H., 186
Exeter, Bishop of, 629
F
Fairfax, Ursula, 7
Fairfax, Sir William, 385, 387
Fauveau, Mademoiselle F., 222
Fawcett, Mr. and Mrs., 459, 466, 467, 578, 586
Ferguson, Mr., 423
Ferguson, Mr. J., 559, 560
Fergusson, Sir W., 345, 627, 629, 633
Ferrier, Professor, 672, seq.
Ferrars, Selina, Countess of, 17
Ffoulkes, Edmund, 178
Fiésolé, 375
Finlay, Mr., 254, seq.
Firth, Mr. J. B., 642
Fisherman of Loch Neagh, 48
Fitzgerald, Edward, 576
Fitzgerald, Mr., 639
Flood, 15
Florence, 221, 268, 320, 365, 375, 388, 389, 622, seq., 661
Flower, William, 625
Fonblanque, Mr. E. de, 648, 662
Fontanés, M., 496
Förster, Dr. Paul, 661
Foster, Dr. Michael, 626, 674
Francis, Saint, 536
Froude, J. A., 8, 421, 478, 510, seq., 621, 650
Furdoonjee, Nowrosjee, 421, 491
G
Galton, 423, 466, 483
Gamgee, Professor A., 625, 673
Garbally, 16, 193
Garibaldi, 366
Garrett, Miss E., 467
Gaskell, Mrs., 577
Geist, 470, 471
Genoa, 365, 384
Germany, 46
George IV., 16
Ghiza, 232
Ghosts, 13
Greene, Mr., 662
Gibbon, 52, 74, 89, 97
Gibson, John, 268, 365, 390, 708
Gladstone, W. E., 446, 504, seq., 551
Glasgow, Lord, 653
Godwin, William, 257, 466
Goethe, 555
Goldschmidts, 237
Goodeve, Dr., 338, 361
Gothard, 269
Grana Uaile, 139
Granard, Lady, 14, 44
Grant, Isabel, 435
Grant, Baron, 436
Grant Duff, Sir M., 536
Granville, Lord, 587
Grattan, 15
Green, Miss, 195
Greg, Mr. W. R., 524, seq.
Grey, Mrs. William, 578, 586
Greville, Henry, 576
Grisanowski, Dr., 383
Grove, Sir W., 482
Guillotine (Nuns chanting at), 293
Gully, Mr., 673
Gurney, Mr. Russell, 589, 595
Guthrie, Canon, 359
Guyon, Madame, 17
H
Hague, The, 669
Hajjin, 278, 617
Hall, Mrs., 482
Hallam, Arthur, 553, 555
Hamilton, Nichola, 11
Handel, 8
Hanover, 661
Harcourt, Sir W., 669
“Hard Church,” 196
Harris, Mr., 401, 501 seq.
Harrison, Frederic, 377
Harrowby, Lord, 636
Hart, Dr. Ernest, 674
Harvey, 538
Hastings, Lady Selina, 13
Hastings, Lord, 43
Haweis, Mr., 430
Hazard, Mr., 499
Headfort, Marquis of, 264
Hebron, 236
Heidelburg, 270
Helps, Sir A., 629
Hemans, Mrs., 258
Hengwrt, 392, 485, 699, 704, 706, 710
Henniker, Lord, 639, seq., 668
Hereford, Bishop of, 629
Herodotus, 588
Herschell, Mr., 596
Higginson, Colonel, 499, 592
Hill, Alfred, 595, seq.
Hill, Frederick, 586
Hill, Sir Rowland, 586
Hill, Matthew D., 285, 347, 586
Hill, F. D., 327, 337, 347, 578, 586
Hill, Miss, 347
Hill, Miss Octavia, 578
Hobbema, 26, 143
Hoggan, Dr. and Mrs., 468, 538, 545, 617, 637, seq., 647, seq.
Holden, Mrs. Luther, 628
Holland, Sir H., 596
Holloway, Mr., 322
Holmes, Dr. O. W., 499
Holmgren, Professor, 491, 643
Holt, Mr., 655, 657, 662, 669
Holyhead, 40
Holyrood, 9
“Holy Griddle,” The, 147
Hooker, 113
Hooker, Mrs., 457
Hooper, Mr. G., 207, 208
Hopwood, Mr., 595
Hope, Mr. (“Anastasius”), 22
Horsley, Mr. Victor, 680
Hosmer, Harriet, 289, 392, 499, 577
Houghton, Lord, 537
Hough, Bishop, 14
Howe, Mrs., 499, 591
Howard, John, 495, 564
Howth, 139
Hume, 97
Humphry, Sir G., 625
Huntingdon, Earl of, 10
Huntingdon, Lady, 81
Hutton, Richard, 469, 627, 635, 643, 647, 652
Huxley, Professor, 642, 644
I
Isle of Man, 7
Italy, 222
J
Jaffa, 234, 243
James, Mr. H., 575
Jameson, Mrs., 576
Jericho, 242
Jerusalem, 220, 234
Jesse, Mr., 660
Jewsbury, Miss, 558
Jones, Martha, 37, 268
Jordan, 242
Jowett, Benjamin, 316, 318, 349, 351, 402, 540, 629
K
Kant, 115, 122, 487
Keats, 555
Keating, Justice, 593
Keeley, Mr., 173
Kelly, Chief Baron, 593
Kelly, Sir Fitzroy, 629, 648, 650
Kemble, Fanny, 4, 197, seq., 257, 360, 439, 446, 553, 555, 575, 580, 695
Kemble, John, 553, 555
Kempis, Thomas à, 149
Keshub Chunder Sen, 455, 491, seq.
Kilmainham, 25
Kingsley, Charles, 401, 454, seq.
Kingsland, Lord, 9
Kinnear, Miss, 39, 50
Kitty, 290
Klein, Professor, 626
Kozzaris, Lady Emily, 264
Kubla Khan, 47
L
Lamartine, 90
Landsdown, Lord, 359
Landor, W. S., 257, 269, 382, 622
Landseer, Sir E., 394, 561
Langton, Anna Gore, 586
Lankester, Mr. Ray, 634
Lawrence, Lord, 493, seq.
Lawrence, General, 635
Lawson, M. A., 625
Lebanon, 243, 250
Leblois, Mons., 496
Lecky, Mr., 179, 478, 629
Lee, Miss, 13
Leffingwell, Dr., 502, 666
Le Hunt, Colonel, 155
Leigh, Colonel, 593
Leitrim, Lord, 194
Lembcké, M. and Mdme., 661
Le Poer, John, 11
L’Estrange, Alice, 500, seq.
Levinge, Dorothy, 17
Lewes, George H., 63
Lewis, Sir George, 528
Liddon, Canon, 651, seq., 659, 664
Lindsay, Lady Charlotte, 44
Livermore, Mrs., 591
Liverpool, 51, 52, 624, 625, 701
Llandaff, Dean of, 671
Llanelltyd, 707, 708
Llangollen (Ladies of), 197
Lloyd, Miss, 200, 392, 395, 471, 438, 574, 647, 680, 708, seq.
Locke, 94
Locke, John, M.P., 463
Lockwood, Mrs., 499
London, 40, chapters xvi., xvii., xviii.
Longfellow, 500
Longley, Bishop, 184
Longman, Mr. W., 111, 579
Loring-Brace, Mr. and Mrs., 499
Louth, 8
Louis Philippe, 222
Lowell, J. R., 234, 392, 551
Lush, Justice, 593
Lux Mundi, 89
Lydda, 234
Lyell, Sir Charles and Lady, 446, seq., 481
Lyell, Colonel and Mrs., 446, 447
M
Macdonald, George, 145, 671
Machpelah, 237
Macintosh, Sir James, 646
Mackenzie, General Colin, 629, 647, 678
Mackarness, Bishop, 671
Mackay, R. W., 472, seq.
Madiai (Family of), 565
Madras, 7, 20, 282
Magee, Bishop, 668
Magnan, M., 627, 634
Maine, Sir H., 478, 633
Majendie, 538
Malabari, 611
Malone, Mary, 32
Malta, 228
Mamre, 236
Manchester, Bishop of 629, 631, 648
Manen, Madame von, 669
Manning, Mrs., 423
Manning, Archbishop, 540, seq., 629, 657
Manzoni, 66
Mario, Madame Alberto, 383
Marsh, Archbishop, 112
Marston, Miss, 690
Martin, Richard, 178, 646
Martineau, Dr., 93, 412, 446, 519, seq., 629
Martineau, Harriet, 577
Mar Saba, 238, 247
Masson, David, 314, 421
Matthew, Father, 147
Maulden Rectory, 445
Maurice, F. D., 401
Mawddach, 706
Maxwell, Colonel, 209
May, Rev. Samuel J., 282, 583
Mazzini, 257, 366, 367
M‘Clintock, Lady E., 160, 169
Mellor, Mr. Justice, 593
Merivale, Mr. Herman, 446, 478
Messina, 228
Michaud, Madame, 65
Michel, Louise, 498
Mill, J. S.,411, 457, 486, 540
Milan, 269, 365
Minto, Lord 369, 650
Minto, Lady, 639
Mischna, The, 473
Mitchell, Professor Maria, 591
Moira, Lady, 14, 174
Moncks, 17
Monsell, Hon. Mrs., 155, 322
Monro, Miss, 679
Monteagle, Lady, 478
Montefiores, 237; Sir Moses, 475
Montriou, Mademoiselle, 52
Montreux, 269
Moore, 37, 48
Morelli, Countess, 661
Morgan, Mrs. de, 478
Morley, John, 421
Morley, Samuel, 659, 665
Morris, Rev. F. O., 671
Morris, Lewis, 558
Morrison, Mrs. Frank, 679, 690
Moth, Mrs., 14
Mount of Olives, 243
Mount-Temple, Lord and Lady, 318, 561, 578, 636, 648, 657, 665, 679, 690
Moydrum Castle, 192
Mozoomdar, 493
Müller, Max, 423
Mundella, Mr., 650
Murray, 112
N
Naples, 226, 365, 384
Napoleon, 368, 621
Newbridge, 9, 20, 25, 46, 75, 154, 169, 203, 209, 264, 304
Newman, Cardinal, 97, 371, 530
Newman, Francis, 95, 97, 103, 406, 415, 530
Newspapers, 169
New York, 157
Nightingale, Miss, 262
Nile, 234
Noel, Major, 4
Norris, Mr. John, 691
Norton, Sir Richard, 7
Northumberland, Duke of, 629
Norwich, 627, 634
O
O’Brien, Smith, 153, seq.
O’Connell, 182
Oliphant, Laurence, 500
Ormonde, Marchioness of, 194
Owen, Sir John, 7
P
Padua, 268
Paley, 94
Palestine, 234
Palmer, Susannah, 432
Palmerston, Lord, 563
Paris, 224, 320
Parkes, Miss Bessie, 586
Parker, Theodore, 97, 103, 225, 351, 353, 371, 502, 622
Parnell, Sophia, 186
Parnell, C. S., 186
Parnell, Sir Henry, 189
Parnell, Thomas, 189
Parsonstown, 194
Parthenon, 255
Pays de Vaud, 269
Peabody, Mr., 499, 662
Pécaut, M. Felix, 496
Pelham, Mrs. H., 11, 16
Pennington, Frederick, 595
Penzance, Lord, 596
Percy, Lord Jocelyn, 635
Perugia, 365
Pfeiffer, Mrs., 577
Philæ, 234
Pigott, Baron, 593
Pilgrim’s Progress, 84
Pirkis, Mr., 672, 679
Pisa, 365, 369
Playfair, Lord, 640, 669
Plutarch, 52
Poggi, Miss, 60
Pollock, Baron, 593
Portrane, 8, 189
Portsmouth, Countess of, 629, 647, 678
Poussin, Gaspar, 26, 143
Powers, 42
Primrose, (in Bonny Glen), 101
Probyn, Miss Letitia, 435
Putnam, Messrs., 457
Pye-Smith, Dr., 634
Pyramids, 231
Q
Quain, Mr. Justice, 593
Quarantania, Mountains of, 242
R
Ragged Schools, 286
Ramabai, 495
Ramleh, 234
Rawdon, Colonel, 14
Red Lodge, 275, seq.
Remond, Miss, 283
Renan, Ernest, 400, 404, 535
Reville, Albert, 371
Reid, Mrs., 485
Reid, Mr. R. T., 669, 671, 675
Rees, Miss, 679
Rhine, 269
Rhodes, 252
Rhone, 269
Riboli, Dr., 661
Riga, 661
Ritchie, Mrs. Richmond, 478
Roberts, Lord, 7
Roberts, Miss, 60
Robertson, Frederick, 93, 423
Rolleston, George, 625, 627, 649
Rollin, 52
Rome, 224, 365
Roscoe, Mrs., 692
Rosse, Lord and Lady, 194
Rothkirch, Countess, 359
Roy, Dr. C. S., 673
Runciman, Miss, 60, 74
Ruskin, John, 629, 671
Russell, Mr. Patrick, 147
Russell, Lord Arthur, 460, 545
Russell, Lord John, 369
Russell, Lord Odo, 534, 544
Russell, Mr. George, 669
Rutland, Duke of, 629
S
Salisbury, Bishop of, 629
Sanderson, Burdon, Dr., 625, 626, 640, 674
Schœlcher, M. le Sénateur V., 497
Schiff, Professor, 383, 622, seq.
Schilling, Madame V., 661
Schuyler, Misses, 499, 577
Scott, Sir Walter, 11, 47
Scutari, 262
Sedan, 621
Selborne, Lord, 629
Sesostris, 39
Shaftesbury, Lord, 81, 294, 561, seq., 645, seq., 657, 671, 697
Shaen, Mr. W., 647, 679
Shaen, Emily, 579, 606
Shelley, 50, 92, 225, 383, 466, 555
Shelley, Sir Percy, 466
Shirreff, Miss, 578, 586
Shore, Augusta, 594
Simpson, Mrs., 478, 535
Skene, Miss Felicia, 26, 27, 109
Sleeman, Mrs., 224
Smith, Horace, 63
Smith, Sydney, 179
Smith, Joseph, 401
Smith, Sir W., 421
Smyrna, 253
Somerville, Mrs., 172, 263, 269, 365, 383, 446, 575, 622
Somerset, Lady Henry, 496
Sonnenschein, Messrs. Swan, 671
Southey, 13, 47
Spedding, James, 559
Spencer, Herbert, 485
Spezzia, 384
Spurgeon, Rev. C. H., 648
Stael, Madame de, 187
Stanley, Dean, 97, 237, 385, 402, 465, 496, 529, seq., 563, 659
Stanley, Lady Augusta, 534
Stanley, Miss, 541
Stanley, Lady, of Alderley, 587
Stansfeld, Mr. and Mrs., 367, 646, 648
Stebbins, Miss, 391
Stephen, Miss Sarah, 328, 333
Stephen, Leslie, 421, 478, 618, 635, 671
Stephen, Miss Caroline, 578
Stephens, Sir Fitzjames, 419
Stewart, Delia, 186
Stockholm, 661
Story, W. W., 365
Stowe, Mrs., 365, 382, 457, 575, 577
Strozzi, 623
St. Asaph, Bishop of, 629
St. Sophia, 262
St. Leger, Harriet, 4, 111, 180, 197, 205, 211, 214, 275, 298, 384, 388, 576, 579
St. Paul’s, 112
Sunday, (at Newbridge), 82
Swanwick, Anna, 577, 607
Swarraton, 7, 20
Swedenborg, 401
Switzerland, 222, 269
Symonds, Dr., 286
Syra, 264
Syracuse, 282
T
Tait, Archbishop, 631
Tait, Mrs., 318
Tait, Lawson, 671
Tayler, Rev. J. J., 375, 524
Taylor, Rev. Edward, 12, 197
Taylor, Jane, 37
Taylor, Mr. and Mrs. P. A., 283, 457, 459, 461, 586
Taylor, Sir Henry, 557
Taylor, Miss, 199, 411, 456
Taylor, Dr. Bell, 671
Templeton, 13, 44
Tennyson, Alfred, 551, seq., 611, 629
Tennyson, Emily, 556
Tennyson, Frederick, 383
Tennyson, Hallam, 555
Thebes, 234
Theism, 93
Themistocles, Tomb of, 261
Thompson, Archbishop, 629, 645, 662, 675
Thornhill, Mark, 671, 672
Thring, Mr., 677
Trelawney, Mr., 258
Trench, Anne Power, 16
Trench, Jane Power, 176
Trench, Archdeacon, 177
Trench, Archbishop, 553
Trevelyan, Sir C., 541
Trieste, 264, 267
Trimleston, Lord, 8, 137
Trimmer, Mrs., 38
Trollope, Adolphus, 263, 269, 365, 381
Trollope, Anthony, 558
Trübner, 113, 400, 421
Truro, Lord, 668
Tufnell, Dr., 627
Tuam, Archbishop of, 12, 22, 177
Turin, 365
Turner, Mr., 210
Turvey, 8, 9
Twining, Louisa, 318, 327
Tyndall, Professor, 482, seq.
Tyrone, Lord, 12
U
Umberto, 368
Unwin, Fisher, Messrs., 205, 422
Upsala, 643
Usedom, Count Guido, 365, 368, 371
V
Vambéry, Mons., 484
Vaughan, Rev. Mr., 87
Vaughan, Rev. Dr., 647
Venice, 258, 267, 365
Verona, 365
Vestiges of Creation, 194
Vesuvius, 226
Victor Emmanuel, 368, 388
Villari, Madame, 269, 381
Virchow, Dr., 634
Vivisection (Movement against), chapter xx.
Vogt, Carl, 490, 663
Voltaire, 94, 97
W
Waddy, Mr., 673
Wakeley, Dr., 673
Walker, Dr., 635
Warburton, Elliot, 183
Ward, Mrs. Humphry, 524
Warren, Mr., 464
Waterford, Marquis of, 12, 23, 174
Watson, William, 558
Watts, Dr., 37
Watts, G. F., 456
Weber, Baron, 661, 671
Webster, Mrs., 577, 586
Wedgwood, Mr. H., 646
Wedgwood, Miss Julia, 578, 646
Weiss, Mr., 375
Wellborne, 7
Welldon, Mr., 677
Wellesley, 20, 209
Wellington, Duke of, 629
Weston, 20
Whately, Archbishop, 196
White, Blanco, 97
White, Rev. H., 532
White, Mrs., 662
Wicksteed, Rev. P., 524
Wilberforce, Canon, 671
Wilhelm, Emperor, 366
Willard, Miss, 607
Williams & Norgate, Messrs., 422, 471
Wilmot, Sir Eardley, 669
Windeyer, W. C., 334
Winchester, Bishop of, 629
Winkworth, Misses, 580
Wilson, Miss Dorothy, 214
Wister, Mrs., 499
Wollstoncraft, Mary, 466
Wood, Colonel Sir Evelyn, 629, 635, 648, 650
Woolman, John, 619
Workhouses, 286, chapter xi.
Wynne-Finch, Mr., 500
Y
Yates, Mrs. Richard Vaughan, 699, seq.
Yeo, Professor, 674
Z
Zachly, 244
Zola, 369
Zoophilist, 670, 680, 682
-----
Footnote 1:
With respect to the Letters and Extracts from Letters to myself and to Miss Elliot, from the late Master of Balliol,—(to be found Vol. I., pp. 316, 317, 349, 350, 351, 352, 353, and 354),—I beg to record that I have received the very kind permission of Mr. Jowett’s Executors for their publication.
Footnote 2:
It is always amusing to me to read the complacent arguments of despisers of women when they think to prove the inevitable mental inferiority of my sex by specifying the smaller circumference of our heads. On this line of logic an elephant should be twice as wise as a man. But in my case, as it happens, their argument leans the wrong way, for my head is larger than those of most of my countrymen,—Doctors included. As measured carefully with proper instruments by a skilled phrenologist (the late Major Noel) the dimensions are as follows:—Circumference, twenty-three and a quarter inches; greatest height from external orifice of ear to summit of crown, 6²⁄₈ inches. On the other hand dear Mrs. Somerville’s little head, which held three times as much as mine has ever done, was below the average of that of women. So much for that argument!
Footnote 3:
The aphorism so often applied to little girls, that “it is better to be good than pretty,” may, with greater hope of success, be applied to family names; but I fear mine is neither imposing nor sonorous. I may say of it (as I remarked to the charming Teresa Doria when she ridiculed the Swiss for their mesquin names, all ending in “in”), “Everybody cannot have the luck to be able to sign themselves Doria nata Durazzo!” Nevertheless “Cobbe” is a very old name (Leuricus Cobbe held lands in Suffolk, vide Domesday), and it is curiously wide-spread as a word in most Aryan languages, signifying either the head (literal or metaphorical), or a head-shaped object. I am no philologist, and I dare say my examples offend against some “law,” and therefore cannot be admitted; but it is at least odd that we should find Latin, “Caput;” Italian, Capo; Spanish, Cabo; Saxon, Cop; German, Kopf. Then we have, as derivates from the physical head, Cape, Capstan, Cap, Cope, Copse or Coppice, Coping Stone, Copped, Cup, Cupola, Cub, Cubicle, Kobbold, Gobbo; and from the metaphorical Head or Chief, Captain, Capital, Capitation, Capitulate, &c. And again, we have a multitude of names for objects obviously signifying head-shaped, e.g., Cob-horse, Cob-nut, Cob-gull, Cob-herring, Cob-swan, Cob-coal, Cob-iron, Cob-wall; a Cock (of hay), according to Johnson, properly a “Cop” of hay; the Cobb (or Headland) at Lyme Regis, &c., &c.; the Kobbé fiord in Norway, &c.
Footnote 4:
As such things as mythical pedigrees are not altogether unknown in the world, I beg to say that I have myself noted the above from Harleian MS. in British Museum 1473 and 1139. Also in the College of Arms, G. 16, p. 74, and C. 19, p. 104.
Footnote 5:
Wife of Thomas Cobbe’s half-brother.
Footnote 6:
Lady Huntingdon was doubly connected with Thomas Cobbe. She was his first cousin, daughter of his maternal aunt Selina Countess of Ferrers, and mother of his sister-in-law, Elizabeth Countess of Moira. The pictures of Dorothy Levinge, and of her father; of Lady Ferrers; and of Lord Moira and his wife, all of which hang in the halls at Newbridge, made me as a child, think of them as familiar people. Unfortunately the portrait of chief interest, that of Lady Huntingdon, is missing in the series.
Footnote 7:
Pronounced “Lock Nay.”
Footnote 8:
Part of the following description of my own and my mother’s school appeared some years ago in a periodical, now, I believe, extinct.
Footnote 9:
“It is a fact of Consciousness to which all experience bears witness and which it is the duty of the philosopher to admit and account for, instead of disguising or mutilating it to suit the demands of a system, that there are certain truths which when once acquired, no matter how, it is impossible by any effort of thought to conceive as reversed or reversible.”—Mansel’s Metaphysics, p. 248.
Footnote 10:
We should now say Altruism.
Footnote 11:
I am thankful to believe that he would be no longer accorded such a rank in 1890 as in 1850!
Footnote 12:
Mr. Hutton, whose exceedingly interesting and brilliant Life of the Marquess of Wellesley (in the “Rulers of India” series) includes an account of the whole campaign, has been so kind as to endeavour to identify this Frenchman for me, and tells me that in a note to Wellington’s Despatches, Vol. II., p. 323, it is given as Dupont; Wellington speaking of him as commanding a “brigade of infantry.” My father certainly spoke of him or some other Frenchman as commanding Scindias’ artillery. Mr. Hutton has also been good enough to refer me to Grant Duff’s History of the Mahrattas, Vol. III., p. 240, with regard to the number of British troops engaged at Assaye. He (Mr. Grant Duff) says the handful of British troops did not exceed 4,500 as my father also estimated them.
Footnote 13:
The mistake recorded in these little verses was made by a daughter of Louis Philippe when visiting her uncle, the Grand Duke of Lucca. The incident was narrated to me by the sculpturess, Mdlle. Felicie Fauveau, attendant on the Duchesse de Berri.
Footnote 14:
See General Sleeman’s India.
Footnote 15:
The Proteus Anguinus.
Footnote 16:
Miss Elliot and I had begun it a year sooner, as stated above.
Footnote 17:
Mr. Jowett referred to Dean Elliot’s purchases of some fine old pictures.
Footnote 18:
“Then, soul of my soul! I shall meet thee again, And with God be the rest!”
Footnote 19:
This refers to an afternoon party we gave to witness poor Mr. Bishop’s interesting thought-reading performances. He was wonderfully successful throughout, and the company, which consisted of about 30 clever men and women, were unanimous in applauding his art, of whatever nature it may have been. I may add that after my guests were departed, when I took out my cheque-book and begged to know his fee, Mr. Bishop positively refused to accept any remuneration whatever for the charming entertainment he had given us. The tragic circumstances of the death of this unhappy young man will be remembered. He either died, or fell into a deathlike trance, at a supper party in New York, in 1889; and within four hours of his real (or apparent) decease, three medical men who had been supping with him, dissected his brain. One doctor who conducted this autopsy alleged that Bishop had been extremely anxious that his brain should be examined post mortem, but his mother asserted on the contrary, that he had a peculiar horror of dissection, and had left directions that no post mortem should be held on his remains. It was also stated that he had a card in his pocket warning those who might find him at any time in a trance, to beware of burying him before signs of dissolution should be visible. In a leading article on the subject in the Liverpool Daily Post, May 21st, 1889, it is stated that by the laws of the United States “it is distinctly enacted that no dissection shall take place without the fiat of the coroner, or at the request of the relatives of the deceased; so that some explanation of the anxiety which induced so manifest a breach of both laws and custom is eminently desirable. A second examination of the body at the instance of the coroner, has revealed the fact that all the organs were in a healthy state, and that it was impossible to ascribe death to any specific cause or to say whether Mr. Bishop were alive or dead at the time of the first autopsy.” Both wife and mother believed he was “murdered;” and ordered that word to be engraved on his coffin. His mother had herself experienced a cataleptic trance of six days’ duration, during the whole of which she was fully conscious. The three doctors were proceeded against by her and the widow, and were put under bonds of £500 each; but, as the experts alleged that it was impossible to decide the cause of death, the case eventually dropped. Whether it were one of “Human Vivisection” or not, can never now be known. If the three physicians who performed the autopsy on Mr. Bishop did not commit a murder of appalling barbarity on the helpless companion of their supper-table, they certainly risked incurring that guilt with unparalleled levity and callousness.
Footnote 20:
A statue of Miss Hosmer exhibited in London, purchased by an American gentleman for £1,000.
Footnote 21:
Not quite so good a story as that of another American child who, having been naughty and punished, was sent up to her room by her mother and told to ask for forgiveness. On returning downstairs the mother asked her whether she had done as she had directed? “Oh yes! Mama,” answered the child, “And God said to me, Pray don’t mention it, Miss Perkins!”
Footnote 22:
See Spenser—The “West” District of London was the one which elected Miss Garrett for the School Board.
Footnote 23:
Sir W. Harcourt interrupted Mr. Russell when speaking of Vivisections before students, by the assertion—
“Under the Act demonstrations were forbidden.”—Times, April 5th, 1883.
In the Act in question—39 & 40 Vict., c. 77, Clause 3, Sect. 1—are these words, “Experiments may be performed ... by a person giving illustrations of lectures,” &c., &c. By the Returns issued from Sir W. Harcourt’s own (Home) Office in the previous year, sixteen persons had been registered as holding certificates permitting experiments in illustration of lectures. It seems to me a shocking feature of modern politics that an outrageous falsehood—or must we call it mistake?—of this kind is allowed to serve its purpose at the moment but the author never apologizes for it afterwards.
Footnote 24:
Most of the following letters were lent by me to Mr. Walrond when he was preparing the biography of Dean Stanley, and in returning them he said that he had kept copies of them, and meant to include them in his book. The present Editor not having used them, I feel myself at liberty to print them here.
Footnote 25:
We had many good stories floating about in Rome at that time and he was always ready to enjoy them, but one, I think, told me by the painter Penry Williams, would not have tickled him as it did us heretics. The Pope, it seems, offered one of his Cardinals (whose reputation was far from immaculate) a pinch of snuff. The Cardinal replied more facetiously than respectfully “Non ho questo vizio, Santo Padre.” Pius IX. observed quietly, snapping his snuffbox, “Se vizio fosse, l’avreste” (If it had been a vice you would have had it)!
Footnote 26:
Curiously enough I have had occasion to repeat this remark this Spring (1894) in a controversy in the columns of the Catholic Times.
Footnote 27:
I had talked to him of our Ragged School at Bristol.
Footnote 28:
When our Bill was debated in Parliament in 1883, Mr. Gladstone left us, totally unaided, to the mercies (not tender) of Sir William Harcourt, who interrupted Mr. George Russell’s speech in support of our Bill by the remark that the demonstrations to students, to which he referred, were forbidden by the Vivisection Act. Sixteen certificates granting permission for the performance of such experiments in demonstration to students passed through his own office that year!
Footnote 29:
This opinion of the great Philanthropist deserves to be remembered with those of the many thinkers who have reached the same conclusion from other sides.
Footnote 30:
The General Secretary, then, and, I am happy to say, still,—of the Victoria Street Society.
Footnote 31:
The lines to which Lord Shaftesbury refers—“Best in the Lord” (since included in many collections) begin with the words:
“God draws a cloud over each gleaming morn. Wouldst thou ask, why? It is because all noblest things are born In agony.
Only upon some Cross of pain or woe God’s Son may lie. Each soul redeemed from self and sin must know Its Calvary.”
Lord Shaftesbury entirely understood the point of view from which I regarded that sacred spot.
Footnote 32:
Here is what Dr. Russell Reynolds, F.R.S., said in 1881 in an address to the Medical Society of University College:—“There is meddling and muddling of a most disreputable sort, and the patients” (he is speaking of women) “grow sick of it, and give it all up and get well; or they go from bad to worse.”... “Physicians have coined names for trifling maladies, if they have not invented them, and have set fashions of disease. They have treated or maltreated their patients by endless examinations, applications, and the like, and this sometimes for months, sometimes for years, and then, when by some accident the patient has been removed from their care, she has become quite well and there has been no more need for caustic,” &c., &c.
And here is what Dr. Clifford Allbut said in the Gulstonian Lecture for 1884 at the Royal College of Physicians. After admitting that women feel more pain than men, he mentioned the “morbid chains,” the “mental abasement,” into which fall “the flock of women who lie under the wand of the Gynæcologist” (specialist of women’s diseases); “the women who are caged up in London back drawing-rooms, and visited almost daily; their brave and active spirits broken under a false (!!) belief in the presence of a secret and over-mastering local malady; and the best years of their lives honoured only by a distressful victory over pain.” (Italics mine.)—Medical Press, March 19th, 1884.
Footnote 33:
The certificate (A) dispensing with Anæsthetics was doubtless inserted after Lord Shaftesbury saw the Bill.
Footnote 34:
Mr. Cartwright, speaking in the House of Commons, April 4th, 1883, in reply to Mr. R. T. Reid, said: “The hon. member should have said something about the prosecution of Dr. Ferrier for having evaded the Act. He does not do that. He has wisely given the go-by to it, for that prosecution lamentably failed, altogether broke down. The charge brought against Dr. Ferrier was that he operated without a licence and infringed the law by doing those things to which the hon. and learned member referred; but the charge was not supported by one tittle of evidence.”
Footnote 35:
Many persons have supposed that I am still concerned with the management of that journal; but, except as an occasional contributor, such is not the case. The credit of the editorship for the last ten years (which I consider to be great) rests entirely with Mr. Bryan.
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. P. 169, changed “but really achieved” to “but rarely achieved”. 2. P. 277, changed “straight on end” to “straight on in”. 3. P. 319, changed “bought forth fruit” to “brought forth fruit”. 4. P. 354, changed “thoughts, I don’t” to “thoughts, I won’t”. 5. Corrected the issues identified in the Errata. 6. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. 7. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. 8. Re-indexed foot-notes using numbers and collected together at the end of the last chapter. 9. Enclosed italics font in underscores.