« PreviousContinue »
Matthew Hutton, 1757-8. Herring and Hutton were both translated from York. Only two other prelates since the Reformation, Grindal and Longley, have exchanged the Primacy of England for that of All England. The remain. ing Archbishops are Thomas Seckar (1758-68); Frederick Cornwallis, who was sharply chidden by George ini, in an admirably written letter, for giving a rout at Lambeth Palace (1768-83); John Moore (1783-1805); Charles Manners Sutton, father of Speaker Manners Sutton, who was created Viscount Canterbury in 1835. This Archbishop owed his appointment to George ili personally. The King offered him the see in an almost surreptitious fashion, and without consulting Pitt, who wished to promote his old Eton tutor, Pretyman, Bishop of Lincoln, translated to Winchester in 1820. Manners Sutton was Primate from 1805 to 1827; after him came William Howley (1828. 1848), who crowned her present Majesty ; then John Bird Sumner (1848-62), whose brother filled the wealthy see of Winchester for forty-two years ; Charles Thomas Longley, consecrated first bishop of the newly.created see of Ripon in 1836—“ a most gentle, without enemies (1862-8); and, finally, Archibald Campbell Tait, the first Scottish Archbishop of Canterbury.-The Times.
An Orator and his Audience.—Mr. Johnson Fox, the "Norwich Weaver Boy,” who eventually became M.P. for Oldham, was a noted orator of the Anti-Corn Law League, and respecting his power as a public speaker, Mr. J. Ewing Ritchie, in his work, “East Anglia ; Personal Recollections and Historical Associations,” says : “ At a later time what pleasure it gave me to listen to this distinguished East Anglian as he appeared at the crowded Anti-Corn Law meetings held in Covent Garden or Drury Lane. Ungainly in figure, monotonous in tone, almost without a particle of action, regarded as free in his religious opinions by the vast majority of his audience, who were at that time prone, even in London, to hold that orthodoxy, like charity, covered a multitude of sins, what an orator he was ! How smoothly the sentences fell from his lips one after the other ; with what happy wit did he expose protectionist fallacies, or enunciate free-trade principles, which, up to that time, had been held as the special property of the philosopher, far too subtle to be understood and appreciated by the mob ! With what felicity did he illustrate his weighty theme; with what clearness did he bring home to the people the wrong and injustice done to every one of them by the landlord's attempt to keep up his rent by a tax on corn, and then with what glowing enthusiasm did they wait and listen for the climax, which, if studied, and, perhaps, artificial, seemed like the ocean wave, to grow grander and larger the nearer it came, till it fell with resist. less force on all around. It seems to me like a dream, all that distant and almost unrecorded past. I see no such meetings, I hear no such orators now. As Mr. Disraeli said of Lord Salisbury, when he was Lord Robert Cecil, there was a want of finish about his style, and the remark holds good of the orator of to-day as contrasted with the platform speaker of the past. It is impossible to fancy any one in our sober age attempting, to say nothing of succeeding in the attempt (my: remarks, of course, do not apply to Irish audiences or Irish orators), to get an audience to rise en masse and swear never to fold their arms, never to relax their efforts, till their end was gained and victory won, yet Mr. Fox did so; and long as I live shall I remember the night when, in response to his impassioned appeal, the whole house and it was crowded to the ceiling-rose, ladies in their boxes, decent city men in the pit, gods in the gallery, to swear never to tire, never to rest, never to slacken, till the peasant at the plough, or the cotton-spinner in the mill, or the collier in the inine, or the lone widow stitching for life far into the early morning in her wretched garret, or the pauper in his still more wretched cellar, ate their untaxed loaf.”
Darwinism.—Lord Hatherley, in a letter to the Rev. F. O. Morris, author of “ All the Articles of the Darwin Faith," says :—“I have received your valuable exposure of Dar. winism, and most heartily thank you for it. I believe that your mode of treating the preposterous fictions of Darwin is the only way to shake the self-confident tone of would-be philosophers. Newton's grandest saying, after 'Deus non est Æternitas sed Æternus,' was 'Hypotheses non fingo.' Newton kept back his 'Principia' for years, because a mis. take had been made in an arc of the meridian, so closely did he keep to experimental truth. Now the crude fancy, nothing like so ingenious as the Ptolemaic cycles, because the Darwin fancy stumbles at every step, is exalted to a rank exceeding that of the discovery of gravitation. In a clever sermon by Pritchard, now Savilian Professor at Oxford, and formerly President of the Royal Astronomical Society, preached before the British Association when Grove presided, he exposes the folly of this stuff, and in his appendix to a print of it proves that the chances against the eye being formed by develop. ment are more in number than Darwin's work being taken by the printer to pieces and tumbled into a bag, and then thrown back on the table in the same order that they came.'
Archbishops of Canterbury since tha Revolation.-Wil. liam Sancroft, the last of the line who came into serious collision with the temporal power, was deprived in 1691 as a non-juror. He set up a schismatic branch of the Anglican Church, the last bishop of which only died in 1805. Keble's father belonged to this sect. William iii offered Sancroft's place to Dr. John Tillotson, Dean of St. Paul's, and with difficulty persuaded him to accept it. tion was great and unusual (though Sancroft also had gone from the Deanery of St. Paul's to the Primacy), but Tillotson was quite equal to the duties of the post. He is not only the most distinguished author among the Archbishops, which is not saying too much, but also one of the best English prose-writers, towards whom Dryden himself acknowledged literary obligations. Tillotson died, November 22, 1694, a few weeks before his friend and disciple Queen Mary. If the conversation in Mary's presence turned on scandal she would often stop it by asking if the last speaker “had read her favourite sermon, Dr. Tillotson's, on evil speaking ?” William's second Primate Thomas Tenison, who never gave Anne a chance of making a High Church Archbishop of Canterbury. He just survived to see the Elector of Hanover firmly seated on the throne. Wil. liam Wake ruled over the Province from 1715 to 1737, John Potter from 1737 to 1747, Thomas Herring, 1747-57,
A Doctor's Hint to Working Men.—When you have any heavy work to do, do not take either beer, cider, or spirits. By far the best drink is thin oatmeal and water, with a little sugar. The proportions are a quarter of a pound of oatmcal to two or three quarts of water, according to the heat of the day and your work and thirst; it should be well boiled, and then an ounce or an ounce and a half of brown sugar added. If you find it thicker than you like, add three quarts of water. Before you drink it, shake up the oatmeal well through the liquid. In summer drink this cold; in winter hot. You will find it not only quenches thirst, but will give you more strength and endurance than any other drink. If you cannot boil it, you can take a little oatmeal mixed with cold water and sugar, but this is not so good ; always boil it if you can. If at any time you have to make a very long day, as in harvest, and cannot stop for meals, increase the oatmeal to half a pound, or even three-quarters, and the water to three quarts if you are likely to be very thirsty. For quenching thirst few things are better than weak coffee and a little sugar. One ounce of coffee and half an ounce of sugar boiled in two quarts of water and cooled is a very thirst-quenching drink. Cold tea has the same effect, but neither is so sup. porting as oatmeal.
(Who the doctor is to whom working men are indebted for these hints we are not aware. We quote the paragraph from a newspaper. The virtue of oatmeal, as the most wholesome and strengthening as well as economical diet, is well proved by its general use among the Scottish peasantry. Among the Grampians we have met with strong, healthy herdsmen, whose food for weeks together was oater porridge, night and morning; while oatmeal in spring water quenched hunger and slaked thirst during the long hours of fatigue on the mountains, looking after the rough Highland cattle.]
SS. Rainbow, Malacca Roads,
February ist, 5 p.m. AM once again on board this quaint little Chinese steamer, which is rolling on a lazy
ground-swell on the heated, shallow sea. We were to have sailed at four p.m., but mat-sailed boats, with cargoes of Chinese, Malays, fowls, pine-apples, and sugar-cane, keep coming off and delaying us. The little steamer has long ago submerged her load line, and is only about ten inches above the water, and still they load, and still the mat-sailed boats and eight-paddled boats, with two red-clothed men facing forwards on each thwart, are disgorging men and goods into the
aden craft. A hundred and thirty men, mostly Chiese, with a sprinkling of Javanese and Mi ays, are huddled on the little deck, with goats and buffaloes, and forty coops of fowls and ducks, the fowls and ducks cackling and
quacking, and the Chinese clattering at the tops of their voices—such a Babel !
An hour later, “Easy ahead," shouts the Portuguese-Malay captain, for the Rainbow is only licensed for one hundred passengers, and the water runs in at the scuppers as she rolls, but five of the mat-sailed boats have hooked on. "Run ahead! full speed!” the captain shouts in English; he dances with excitement, and screams in Malay. The Chinamen are climbing up the stern, over the bulwarks, everywhere, fairly boarding us ; and with about a hundred and fifty souls on board, and not a white man or a Christian among them, we steam away over the gaudy water into the gaudy sunset; and beautiful, dreamy, tropical Malacca, with its palm-fringed shores, and its coloured streets, and Mount Ophir, with its golden history, and the stately Stadthaus, whose ancient rooms have come to seem almost like my property, are passing into memories. A gory ball drops suddenly from a gory sky into a flaming sea, and
“ With one stride comes the dark." There is no place for me except on this little bridge, on which the captain and I have just had an excellent dinner, with hen-coops for seats. These noisy fowls are now quiet in the darkness, but the noisier Chinese are still bawling at the top of their voices. It is too dark for another line.
Klang, Sělángor. You will not know where Klang is, and I think you won't find it in any atlas or encyclopædia. Indeed, I almost doubt whether you will find Sělângor, the Malay State of which Klang is, after a fashion, the capital. At present I can tell
a you very little.
Sělângor is bounded on the north by the "protected ” State of Perak, which became notorious in England a few years ago for a " little war," in which we inflicted a very heavy chastisement on the Malays for the assassination of Mr. Birch, the British Resident. It has on its south and southeast Sungei Ujong, Jelabu, and Pahang ; but its boundaries in these directions are ill defined. The Strait of Malacca bounds it on the west, and its coast-line is about a hundred and forty miles long. From its slightly vague interior boundary to the coast, it is supposed to preserve a tolerably uniform depth of from fifty to sixty miles. Klang is on the Klang river, in lat. 3° 3' N., and long. 101° 29' 30" E. I call it “the capital after a fashion,” because the Resident and his myrmidons live here, and because vessels which draw thirteen feet of water can go no higher; but the true capital, created by the enterprise of Chinamen, is thirty-six miles farther inland, the tin-mining settlement of Kwala Lumpor.* Sělângor thrives, if it does thrive, which I greatly doubt, on tin and gutta; but Klang is a most mis-thriven, decayed, miserable-looking place. The nominal ruler of Sělângor is Sultan Abdul Samat, but he hybernates on a pension at Langat, a long way off, and must be nearly obliterated, I think.
It is a great change from Malacca in every respect. I left it with intense regret. Hospitality, kindness, most genial intercourse, and its own semi-mediæval and tropical fascinations, made one of the brightest among the many bright spots of my wanderings.
It was a delightful night. The moon was only a hemisphere, yet I think she gave more light than ours at the full. The night was so exquisite that I was content to rest without sleeping; the Babel noises of fowls and men had ceased, and there were only quiet sounds of rippling water, and the occasional cry of a sea-bird as we slipped through the waveless sea. When the moon set the sky was wonderful with its tropic purple and is pavement and dust of stars. I have become quite fond of the Southern Cross, and don't
wonder that the early navigators prostrated themselves on deck when they first saw it. It is not an imposing constellation, but it is on a part of the sky which is not crowded with stars, and it always lies aslant and obvious. It has become to me as much a friend as is the Plough of the northern regions.
At daybreak the next morning we were steaming up the Klang river, whose low shores are entirely mangrove swamps, and when the sun was high and hot we anchored in front of the village of Klang, where a large fort on an eminence, with grass embankments in which guns are mounted, is the first prominent object. Above this is a large wooden bungalow with an allap roof, which is the British Residency. There was no air, and the British ensign in front of the house hung limp on the flagstaff. Below there is a village, with clusters of Chinese houses on the ground, and Malay houses on stilts, standing singly, with one or two Government offices bulking largely among them. A substantial flight of stone steps leads to a skeleton jetty with an attap roof, and near it a number of atlap-roofed boats were lying, loaded with slabs of tin from the diggings in the interior, to be transhipped to Pinang. A dainty steam-launch, the Abdulsamat, nominally the Sultan's yacht, flying a large red and yellow flag, was also lying in the river.
Mr. Bloomfield Douglas, the Resident, a tall, vigorous, elderly man, with white hair, a forid complexion, and a strong voice heard everywhere in authoritative tones, met me with a four-oared boat, and a buggy with a good Australian horse brought me here. From this house there is a large but not a beautiful view of river windings, rolling jungle, and blue hills. The lower part of the house, which is supported on pillars, is mainly open, and is used for billiard-room, church, afternoon tea-room, and audience-room; but I see nothing of the friendly, easy-going to and fro of Chinese and Malays, which was a pleasant feature of the Residency in Sungei Ujong. In fact there is here much of the appearance of an armed post amidst a hostile population. In front of the Residency there is a six-pounder Aanked by two piles of shot. Behind it there is a guard-room, with racks of rifles and bayonets for the Resident's body-guard of twelve men, and quarters for the married soldiers, for soldiers they are, though they are called policemen. A gong hangs in front of the porch on which to sound the alarm, and a hundred men fully armed can turn out at five minutes' notice.
The farzily consists of the Resident, his wife, a dignified and gracious woman with a sweet but plaintive expression of countenance, and an afflicted daughter, on whom her mother attends with a loving, vigilant, and ceaseless devotion of a most pathetic kind. The circle is completed by a handsome black monkey tied to a post, and an ape which they call an ouf, from the solitary monosyllable which it utters, but which I believe to be the “agile gibbon,” a creature so delicate that it has never yet survived a voyage to England.
It is a beautiful creature. I could“ put off" hours of time with it. It walks on its hind legs
Kwala Lumpor is now the most important mining entrepôt in Selangor, and in 1880 the British Resident and his staff were removed Wither.
It has very
with a curious human walk, hanging its long arms down by its sides, like B—- It will walk quietly by your side like another person. It has nice, dark eyes, with well-formed lids like ours, a good nose, a human mouth, with very nice white teeth, and a very pleasant, cheery look when it smiles, but when its face is at rest the expression is sad and wistful. It spends a good deal of its time in swinging itself most energetically. pretty fingers and finger-nails. It looks fearfully near of kin to us, and yet the gulf is measureless. It can climb anywhere, and take long leaps. This morning it went into a house in which a cluster of bananas is hanging, leapt up to the roof, and in no time had peeled two, which it ate very neatly. It has not even a rudimentary tail. When it sits with its arms folded it looks like a gentlemanly person in a close-fitting fur suit.
Klang does not improve on further acquaintance. It looks to me as if half the houses were empty, and certainly half the population is composed of Government employés, chiefly police constables. There is no air of business energy, and the queerly-mixed population saunters with limp movements; even the few Chinese look depressed, as if life were too much for them. It looks, too, as if there were a need for holding down the population—which I am sure there is not-for in addition to the fort and its barracks, military police-stations are dotted about. A gaol, with a very high wall, is in the middle of the village.
The jungle comes so near to Klang that tigers, and herds of elephants sometimes forty strong, have been seen within half a mile of it. In Sungei Ujong there was some excitement about a rogue elephant” (ie., an elephant which, for reasons which appear good to other elephants, has been expelled from the herd, and has been made mad and savage by solitude), which, after killing two men, has crossed the river into Sělângor, and is man-killing here. A few days ago a man, catching sight of him in the jungle, took refuge in a tree, and the brute tore the tree down with its trunk and trampled the poor fellow to death, his companion escaping during the process.
There is an almost daily shower here, and it is lovely now, with a balmy freshness in the air. No one could imagine that we are in the torrid zone, and only 3° from the equator. The mercury has not been above 83° since I came, and the sea and land breezes are exquisitely delicious. I wish you could see a late afternoon here in its full beauty, with palms against a golden sky, pink clouds, a pink river, and a balm-breathing air, just strong enough to lift the heavy-scented flowers, which make the evening air delicious. There has been a respite from mosquitos, and I am having a “real good time.”
But I had a great fright yesterday-part of the "good time," though. I was going into the garden when six armed policemen leapt past me as if they had been shot, followed by Mr. Daly, the land surveyor, who has the Victoria Cross for some brave deed, shouting, “A cobra! a cobra !” and I saw a hooded head above the plants, and then the form I most fear and loathe twisting itself towards the house with frightful rapidity,
every one flying. I was up a ladder in no time, and the next moment one of the policemen, plucking up courage, broke the reptile's back with the butt of his rifle, and soon it was borne away dead by its tail. It was over four feet long. They get about three a day at the fort. There is a reward of twenty cents. per foot for every venomous snake brought in, fifty cents. per foot for an alligator, and twenty-five dollars for every tiger. Lately the police have got two specimens of the Ophiophagus, a snake-eating snake over eighteen feet long, whose bite they say is certain death. They have a horrible collection of snakes alive, half dead, dead, and preserved. There was a fright of a different kind late at night, and the two made me so nervous that when the moonlight glinted two or three times on the bayonet of the sentry, which I could see from my bed, I thought it was a Malay going to murder the Resident, against whom I fear there may be many a vendetta.
Langat River, Selangor. I was glad to get up at sunrise, when the whole heaven was flooded with colour and glory, and the lingering mists which lay here and there over the jungle gleamed like silver. Before we left Mrs. Douglas gave me tea, scones, and fresh butter, the first fresh butter that I have tasted for ten months. We lest Klang in this beautiful steam-launch, the (so called) yacht of the Sultan, at eight, with forty souls on board.
I am somewhat hazy as to where I am. “ The Langat River" is at present to me only a “geographical expression.” It is now past three o'clock, and we have been going about since eight, sometimes up rivers, but mostly on lovely tropic seas among islands. This is one of the usual business tours of the Resident, with the additional object of presenting a uniform to the Sultan. Besides Mr. Douglas there are his sonin-law Mr. Daly; Mr. Hawley, who has lately been appointed to a collectorship, and who goes up to be presented to the Sultan; Mr. Syers, formerly a private in the roth Regiment, now superintendent of the Sělângor police force; and thirty policemen, who go up to form the Sultan's escort to-morrow. Precautions, for some occult reason, seem to be considered indispensable here, and have been increased since the murder of Mr. Lloyd at the Dindings. The yacht has a complete permanent roof of painted canvas, and under this an armament of boarding pikes. Round the. little foremast four cutlasses and a quantity of ball cartridges are displayed. Six rifles are in a rack below, and the policemen and body-guard are armed with rifles and bayonets.
The yacht is perfection. The cabin, in which ten can dine, is high and airy, and, being forward, ihere is no vibration. Space is exquisitely utilised by all manner of contrivances. She is only fifty ions and very low in the water, but we are going all the way to Prince of Wales Island in her—200 miles. Everything is perfect on board, even to ihe cuisine, and I appreciate the low rattan chairs at the bow, in which one can sit in the shade and enjoy the zephyrs.
This day has been a tropic dream. I have enjoyed it and am enjoying it intensely. We steamed down the Klang river, and then down a narrow river-like channel among small palmfringed islands which suddenly opened upon the sea, which was slightly green towards the coralsanded, densely-wooded, unpeopled shores, but westwards the green tint merged into a blue tint, which ever deepened till a line of pure, deep, indescribable blue cut the blue sky on the far-off
, clear horizon. But, ah! that " many twinkling smile of ocean!” Words cannot convey an idea of what it is under this tropic sun and sky, with the “silver-flashing" wavelets rippling the surface of the sapphire sea, beneath whose clear warm waters brilliant fishes are darting through the coral groves. These are enchanted seas
coffee-coloured stream, near a picturesque Malay village on stilts, surrounded by very extensive groves of palms. Several rivers intersect each other in this neighbourhood, flowing through dense jungles and mangrove swamps. The sun isstill high. The four white men and the Rajah. Moussa have gone ashore snipe-shooting, the Malays on board are sleeping, and I am enjoying a delicious solitude.
" Where falls not rain, or hail, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly."
It is unseemly that the Abdulsamat should smoke and puff and leave a foamy wake behind her. “Sails of silk and ropes of sendal,” and poetic noiseless movements only would suit these lovely Malacca Straits. This is one of the very few days in my life in which I have felt mere living to be a luxury, and what it is to be akin to seas and breezes, and birds and insects, and to know why nature sings and smiles.
We had been towing a revenue cutter with stores for a new lighthouse, and cast her adrift at the point where we anchored, and the Resident and Mr. Daly went ashore with thirteen policemen, and I had a most interesting and instructive conversation with Mr. Syers. Afterwards we steamed along the low wooded coast, and then up the Langat river till we came to Bukit Jugra, an isolated hill covered with jungle. The landing is up a great face of smooth rock, near the top of which is a pretty police-station, and higher still, nearly concealed by bananas and coco-palms, is the large bungalow of the revenue officer and police magistrate of Langat. We saw Mr. Ferney, the magistrate, landed the police guard, and then steamed up here for a council.
Mr. Syers went ashore, and returned with the Sultan's heir, the Rajah Moussa, a very peculiarlooking Malay, a rigid Mohammedan, who is known, the Resident says, to have said that when he becomes Sultan he “ will drive the white men into the sea.” He works hard as an example to his people, and when working dresses like a coolie. He sets his face against cock-fighting and other Malay sports, is a reformer, and a dour, strong-willed man, and his accession seems to be rather dreaded by the Resident, as it is supposed that he will be something more than a mere figure-head prince. He is a Hadji, and was dressed in a turban made of many yards of priceless silk muslin, embroidered in silk, a white baju, a long white sarong, and full white trousers-a beautiful dress for an Oriental. He shook hands with me. I wish that these people would not adopt our salutations, their own are so much more appropriate to their character.
The yacht is now lying at anchor in a deep,
February 4th, 4 p.m.-We are steaming over the incandescent sapphire sea among the mangrovebordered islands which fringe the Sělângor coast, under a blazing sun, with the mercury 88° in the shade, but the heat, though fierce, is not oppressive, and I have had a delightful day. The men returned when they could no longer see to shoot snipes, with a good filled bag, and after sunset we dropped down to Bukit Jugra (?). Most of the river was as black as night with the heavy shadows of the forest, but along the middle there was a lane of lemon-coloured water, the exquisite reflection of a lemon-coloured sky. The Resident and Mr. Daly went down to the coast in the yacht to avoid the mosquitos of the interior, but I with Omar, one of the “body-guard,” half Malay half Kling, as my attendant, and Mr. Syers, landed, to remain at the magistrate's bungalow. It was a lovely walk up the hill through the palms and bananas, and the bayonets of our escort gleamed in the intense moonlight, not with anything alarming about them either, for an escort is only necessary because the place is so infested by tigers. The bungalow is large but rambling, and my room was one built out at the end, with six windows with solid shutters, of which Mr. Ferney closed all but two, and half-closed those, because of a tiger which is infesting the immediate neighbourhood of the house, and whose growling they say is most annoying. He killed a heifer belonging to the Sultan two nights ago, and last night the sentry got a shot at him from the verandah outside my room as he was engaged in most undignified depredations upon the hen-house.
There was a grand excitement yesterday morning. A tigress was snared in a pitfall and was shot. Her corpse was brought to the bungalow warm and limp. She measured eight feet two inches from her nose to her tail, and her tail was two feet six inches long. She had whelps, and they must be starving in the jungle to-night and bemoaning their tigress mother. Her beautiful skin is hanging up
All the neighbourhood, Chinese and Malay, turned out. Some danced, and the Sultan beat gongs. Everybody seized upon a bit of the beast. The Sultan claimed the liver, which, when dried and powdered, is worth twice its weight in gold as a medicine. The blood was taken, and I saw the Chinamen drying it in the sun on small. slabs : it is an invaluable tonic! The eyes,
which were of immense size, were eagerly scrambled for, that the hard parts in the centre, which are valuable charms, might be set in gold as rings. It was sad to see the terrible "glaring eyeballs ”' of the jungle so dim and stiff. The bones were taken to be boiled down to a jelly, which, when some mysterious drug has been added, is a grland