Page images
PDF
EPUB

POPULAR

LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART. Fourth Series

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS.

No. 980.-VOL. XIX.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 7, 1882.

THE NATIONAL LEDGER. THERE is no more fascinating volume to a successful merchant than his ledger, a book which contains the record of his energy and perseverance, and on whose pages are summed up the numerous items which form the foundation of the golden superstructure he has raised. John Bull's Ledger, in the shape of a modest tenpenny blue-book entitled 'The Finance Accounts of the United Kingdom,' has recently been issued from the offices of Messrs Eyre and Spottiswoode, the Queen's printers, and in its pages of closely tabulated figures there is a story of successful business which should make it very acceptable reading to the British taxpayer. Few persons, however, care to wade through a mass of figures and tabulated statements, and we shall therefore refrain from going into the vast details of the debtor and creditor account of the immense total of nearly one hundred millions of money which represents the income and expenditure of that portion of the British Empire over which the Chancellor of the Exchequer has power for good and evil. We shall state a few of the larger facts with reference to this vast sum, and then lay before our readers some of the remarkable items which go to build up on one side or the other the colossal account of the 'business' recorded in the National Ledger.

In spite of the Chancellor's sweeping fiscal reforms, it appears that the Custom-houses of the United Kingdom still collect the handsome sum of nineteen millions a year, and the Excise not less than twenty-seven millions. The Postoffice shows a gross revenue of seven millions, notwithstanding the alterations which are being continually carried out, and the fact that several millions have been sunk as capital for the provision of better rates of pay to the telegraphists and letter-carriers.

The Income Tax was bringing in no less a sum than ten millions before the recent increase on account of the Egyptian Expedition; while the sale of stamps realised the sum of twelve

PRICE 1d.

millions. The other side of the account shows how nearly all these millions go to pay for the Army, Navy, and Civil Service; but in the hands of a skilful Chancellor of the Exchequer the national expenditure is rarely, if ever, permitted to exceed the national income. The grand total for the Army and Navy is twenty-six millions three hundred and seventy thousand pounds; that for the Civil Service, fifteen millions; interest of National Debt, twenty-eight millions two hundred and ninety thousand pounds; the Afghan War instalment, five hundred thousand pounds; the Transvaal expenses, four hundred thousand; and the Zulu War, one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds. There is also a payment of ten thousand pounds for 'Secret Service.'

Having thus briefly described the colossal part of the debt and credit sides of this wonderful account, we will now proceed to 'take stock' of some of the items which go to make up the grand total, and the somewhat singular and interesting nature of which may not, perhaps, be generally known.

Readers of the daily papers must have often noticed that ever and anon there appears in them a paragraph, inserted in some corner of the journals, to the effect that 'the Chancellor of the Exchequer begs to acknowledge the receipt of two halves of a five-pound note from A. B. on account of Income Tax.' This is. termed Conscience-money, and amounted last year to no less a sum than five thousand three hundred and forty-six pounds. The Suez Canal shares brought in at five per cent., two hundred thousand pounds; while the Colonies contributed the sum of two hundred and fifteen thousand pounds towards our national defences.

Few people are aware of the fact that in return for permission to issue a paper currency, the Bank of England pays into the Exchequer an annual sum of one hundred and thirty-eight thousand five hundred and seventy-eight pounds. The coinage of silver at the Mint last year brought in a profit of one hundred and sixty-seven thousand pounds, and the bronze coinage nearly

thirty-one thousand pounds. Sovereigns are, it appears, coined gratuitously; while no less a sum than four hundred and eighty-four pounds in old copper coin was melted down for alloy. Even the sweepings of the Mint floors brought into the Exchequer the sum of six hundred and thirty-four pounds five shillings and eleven

pence.

We are somewhat surprised to find an item of eleven hundred pounds accruing to the Crown on account of some guano islands of which the nation appears to be the proprietor; while 'small branches of the hereditary revenue'-whatever these may mean-are credited with the sum of twenty-eight thousand pounds per annum.

We will close our list of items on the debit side of the National Ledger with those standing under the head of 'Convict Labour.' The Exchequer sand three hundred pounds on account of profits received during the past year a sum of two thouon farms cultivated by convicts, and the large sum of sixteen thousand pounds for profits on convict manufactures, exclusive of another sum of eight thousand eight hundred pounds for profits on prisoners' labour.'

we find ourselves floundering among a mighty On turning to the Credit side of the Ledger, host of state pensioners, some of a perpetual nature and others but temporary. As a handsome item of compensation for the abolition of office,' we may en passant quote the case of the Receiver of the Duchy of Cornwall and his deputy, who receive for loss of office on the abolition of the duties on the coinage of tin,'

&c., an annual allowance of seventeen thousand pounds!

As all wrecks and derelicts' upon the coasts of the United Kingdom are claimed by the Crown, the national income from this source is augmented by the sum of one hundred and sixtyThe Royal Family of course head the list of nine pounds eleven and ninepence. This small annuitants, commencing with the Crown Princess sum is in itself a practical testimonial to the of Germany (Princess Royal), eight thousand excellence of the work carried on by the National pounds, and ending with the Princess Mary Lifeboat Institution. Beside this, the rights and (Duchess of Teck), who receives two thousand. interests of the Crown in the foreshores of the The whole amount under this head, not including kingdom brought in last year two hundred and of course the amounts granted this year on the seventy-six pounds seventeen shillings and nine-marriage of the Duke of Albany, is one hundred and sixty-one thousand pounds.

pence.

Passports are evidently far from being as obsolete as some persons think, for no less than four thousand were issued by the Foreign Office during the year, the fees on which amounted to four hundred and nine pounds. Our consuls abroad paid into the national Exchequer through the Foreign Office nearly fifty-two thousand pounds on account of fees received by them in

the exercise of their consular duties.

One interesting item in this long account is that of the Tower of London, which is credited with the sum of two thousand two hundred and seventy-six pounds on account of the fees paid by visitors to view the Crown jewels and armouries, &c. Another item stands for 'Fees of Honour' in the Queen's Household, by which is probably meant the fines inflicted on its members for disregarding certain rules of etiquette or propriety. The sum credited to this source was last year fifty-five pounds eleven shillings and sixpence. Another item in connection with the Royal Household is the 'Contributions for Keys, which consists of small payments made by privileged individuals for admittance into the royal precincts of the various palace-grounds and demesnes. This and various other items, such as 'Grazing and other rents, venison fees, receipts for old materials [rags and bones ?], timber, and live-stock,' together produce the respectable sum of five thousand and forty pounds.

The wages and effects of deceased seamen revert to the Crown if not claimed within six years; and it may be imagined that the sum invested on this account must be very large, seeing that the interest alone brought in eleven hundred pounds last year.

Next in order come the Civil List pensions, which amount in the aggregate to the sum of twenty-two thousand five hundred and eightynine pounds. The names of the recipients of these pensions are not given, probably on account of the number, as there must be quite an army pounds per annum is granted to the Crown by of them, seeing that not more than twelve hundred sand one hundred and sixty-six pounds per annum parliament for this purpose. Thirty-eight thouis absorbed by the pensions for distinguished military services. At the head of this list stands the famous Duke of Marlborough, to whom and to whose descendants 'for ever' parliament granted the yearly sum of four thousand pounds, beside a splendid palace to live in and estates around it. Lord Napier of Magdala closes the list with a pension of two thousand pounds, which is to last for two lives only.

Twenty thousand four hundred and thirty-four pounds per annum is the amount absorbed by Political and Civil Service pensioners, amongst whom for the last time will figure the late Lord Beaconsfield, Sir George Grey, Mr Milner Gibson, In this list, the man and Mr Spencer Walpole. who gets the most handsome allowance is Lord Clarence Paget, who receives a pension of twelve hundred pounds per annum as an ex-First Secretary of the Admiralty, in addition to his retired pay of two guineas a day as a vice-admiral. The veteran Corn-law abolitionist, Mr C. P. Villiers, also draws a pension of twelve hundred a year as an ex-Cabinet minister.

Forty-one thousand pounds is the amount of the pensions awarded for judicial services to the thousand a year each-namely, Lords Cairns, state, the names of three Lord Chancellors, at five Hatherley, and Selborne, being on last year's list. Lord Hatherley has since died; and Lord Sel borne, being Mr Gladstone's present Lord Chancellor, of course receives a salary of ten thousand

e

pounds, the pension being suspended in the meantime. This does not include Ireland, which has a Judicial pension list of over twenty-two thousand pounds.

It is rather amusing to see with what arithmetical precision the pension is stopped by the Treasury on the day of decease; not a fraction more than was absolutely due to the departed pensioner being paid to his heirs or adminis

trators.

The hereditary pensions to the heirs of the Duke of Schomberg, which Thackeray ridiculed in his ballad of the Battle of Limerick, and amounting to nine hundred and eighty-four pounds, still appear in that portion of the list which may be termed a collection of curiosities.' The heirs and representatives of the founder of the Quaker City, Mr Penn, still receive the pension of four thousand pounds per annum granted them by parliament for ever. The Earl of Kinnoull receives a pension of one thousand six hundred and twenty pounds four shillings, on account of certain four-and-a-half-per-cent. duties,' in addition to an hereditary pension granted to one of his ancestors by King Charles II.

Many persons are still living and enjoying pensions granted them in the reigns of George III., George IV., and William IV.; whilst there is also a payment of thirty-two pounds six shillings and fourpence to persons who suffered by the Irish Rebellion of 1798.' Altogether, the gross amount for pensions and annuities is over three hundred thousand pounds, which is, after all, but a small amount compared with that wonderful income of nearly a hundred millions sterling, which is shown on the debit side of the National Ledger as the result of the untiring industry and splendid perseverance of the inhabitants of the British Isles.

VALENTINE STRANGE.

CHAPTER

A STORY OF THE PRIMROSE WAY.
BY DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY.

and the two might almost have changed relationships.

Where on earth is Val Strange?' cried Gerard. 'Don't any of you men know?'

There's been something odd about Val lately,' said one of the guests; 'I began to think yesterday that he had a tile loose.'

Reginald thought that possibly he might be able to throw a little light on the reason of Val's absence. If you love a woman yourself, it is not altogether easy at the last moment of losing her to congratulate the man who carries her away from you; and the difficulty seemed likely to be increased when the congratulations were expected to extend over the time occupied by a dinner and an evening meeting like the present. So that, knowing what he did, it would have been easy to explain Val's late eccentric conduct if it had not been impossible to offer such an explanation.

At this sort of gathering there are generally one or two people who are eager to make speeches. The elder Jolly was absolutely overflowing with Disraelian eloquence, but he had to save himself for the effort of the morrow. He had written his speech, and had committed it to memory; and it was his belief that this oratorical effort, when it came to be produced would sparkle like fireworks. The audience would include a good many of the county magnates, and he felt that they would be almost worthy to listen to his carefully-prepared impromptus. A bashfullyeager gentleman in a corner was being urged by his companions to rise; and had at length, in spite of himself, given so decided a negative, that the attempt to persuade him had been almost abandoned, when Mr Jolly, discerning that beyond a doubt the tide of speechmaking, if it once set in, would drift his way, burned so eagerly for a chance, that he beat a tumbler upon the table and cried: 'Gentlemen, Mr Whetham is longing to address us.' The Cicero of the corner coterie being thus publicly signalled-out for attention arose, smiled vacuously, played in a dégagé fashion with his watch-chain, and with a curious springy motion in the legs, unburdened his soul in manner following: 'Gentlemen all. Ir was the last night in June, and a score of And Mr Jolly. Had extreme happiness-knowing jovial young gentlemen were making merry at -friend-Lumby-years. No hesitation—saying Lumby Hall. There were two elders with them-admirable fellow-calculated-perform-duties -Mr Lumby and Mr Jolly, and but one of the invited guests was absent. The ladies staying at the Hall to attend the morrow's ceremony were a little aggrieved by the bachelor party, and the drawing-room was dull. The general feminine opinion was unfavourable to Mr Lumby's projection; but the old gentleman himself was in high-feather amongst the young fellows gathered about his son, and knew nothing of the muffled petticoat rebellion. He was growing stronger every day, and had already, without much mental difficulty, gone through terms of settlement with the lawyer, making over half his share in the City House to Gerard. He sat there and sipped a glass of wine, and chatted gaily, if somewhat childishly, for a time, and then withdrew, leaving the bride's father to keep the younger blood in order, if it should need a restraining hand. The elder Jolly was glorious, and had assumed so juvenile an air, that beside the bald-headed Reginald he looked young,

XXXIX.—' ALL IS READY,' SAID VAL
QUIETLY. 'TELL YOUR MISTRESS.'

citizen-most satisfactory manner. Call upon you therefore-drink his health-musical honours. Really sorry-can't express-feelings-overwhelming at the moment- more flowing language. Gentlemen, Mr Gerard Lumby.' Then he sat down, and wondered where his speech had gone to, and whilst he wondered, the toast was hailed with enthusiasm, and the young gentlemen assembled sang, For he's a jolly good Fellow, with such heartiness that the startled domestics rose in the servants' hall, and the ladies in the drawingroom looked at each other in amazement. Lady Farham, relict of Sir Samuel, late of Mincing Lane, and mother-in-law to George Lumby, murmured to her married daughter that it was really like a tavern, and fell into a stony contemplation of the wall-paper, from which she was aroused with difficulty. She said afterwards, in view of the events of the night, that she had quite expected a judgment.

Gerard returned thanks with hearty brevity,

and then somebody proposed the health of the bride. He was a very young gentleman, with a habit of saying in the duller portions of his oration' In short, gentlemen, as the poet says'and at these moments the guests looked towards him with a look as of awakening interest. But as he always forgot what the poet said and toiled off into prose, they settled back again in a manner disconcerting to the speaker's feelings. Finally, when the young gentleman had made half-a-dozen abortive efforts to recall the poet's utterances, he sat down; and the guests cheered for the bride, and drank her health with much ardour; and Mr Jolly arose. It was one of those supreme moments of temptation which occur not more than once in a lifetime, and he yielded. He spoke the speech he had prepared for the wedding breakfast; and having delivered himself, sat down and contemplated the draft which would be made upon him in twelve hours' time, and he a mental bankrupt. After such an effort as he had already made, he knew that great things would be expected of him. He had fired his feu de joie a day too soon, and the consciousness that he had no powder left, was indescribably depressing. He felt that the reputation he had already created would be fatal to him. But suddenly a ray of light illumined his mind, and he became tranquil and even happy. He resolved that he would be too much affected to say anything!

'When the cat's away the mice will play,' said Hiram Search to himself as he stepped forth from the gates of Lumby Hall into the softly-clouded summer night. They'll prob❜ly be rather lively over at the Grange this evening, an' I'll just walk over an' have a look at Mary.' He lit a pipe, and walked comfortably, thinking of the morrow's wedding and the improvement it brought in his own chances. He would not be single much longer, though he was less in a hurry to marry than he had been. Not because his affections had in the least degree cooled, but because Mary was now provided for, and the old reason for desiring at once to assume a position in which he could protect her had been removed. As members of one household, they would be together, and Hiram looked forward to a period of courtship which bade fair to be extremely pleasant. He had got over half his walk, when the moon shone out suddenly with so charming a lustre that he paused to observe it. As the cloud which had hitherto obscured the fullness of her splendour slowly sailed away, moved by some wind too high for him to feel its faintest breath, the broad silver light seemed bit by bit to drive back the shadow over the fields towards the sea. The moonbeams with that wall of retreating darkness beyond them made the distance dimmer than it had been, and almost shut the water from sight. But suddenly they touched and silvered the foam of the little breakers on the sand of the bay, and passed along as if floating out to sea, and in the midst of the belt of light he discerned the snowy sail of a vessel as it rounded Daffin Head. I guess that's Mr Strange's yacht,' said Hiram to himself. The little craft had been creeping a good deal about the coast for the past week or two; and Hiram, like the rest of the inhabitants of those parts, had become familiar with her aspect.

In the mind of a fanciful man, thousands of odd little premonitions which never come to anything, rise and float about and go again, to be forgotten. But if ever by chance one of these idle fancies is fulfilled, it becomes memorable, and erects itself into a precedent. Perhaps to Hiram's mind there was an unrecognised sense of something furtive suddenly revealed in the little craft stealing round the headland in the mist of night and being thus made visible. He had taken a dislike to Val Strange, and he had been exercised by the discovery of the photograph. There had been a latent feeling of resentment in his mind that evening at Val's absence from his friend's dinner-party, and Hiram had been inclined to think that Mr Strange was 'hankering'-that was his phrase 'after the boss's little gell.' Being thus predisposed to think ill of Mr Strange, and having some ground for suspicion already, he absolutely surmised that the Mew's-wing might be hanging about to carry off Constance. He smiled at the thought, and pooh-poohed it, and put it away, as being altogether too preposterous to be believed in. And yet it had a sort of hold upon him, and made him feel unhappy and discontented with himself.

'If there should be anythin' in it,' he said at last, 'what a dog I should feel if I'd neglected this curious kind o' warnin'. Does seem kind of like a warnin', somehow. Such things hev been, I know. Why, Hiram, s'pose you make a fool of yourself, and look into this matter. Twon't be the first time you've gone a fool's arrand, and nobody need know what an ass you are. You ain't afraid o' me laughing at you, air you, Hiram?' He walked on swiftly; and bodily motion adding, as it often does, to mental excitement, he grew out of the cheerfully cynical mood in which he had started, and came to something like genuine fear and earnestness. When he saw the lights of the Grange, he chose the turfy side of the lane rather than the resounding road, and ran crouching along as if he were hunting something. Near the gates he paused, and a voice struck upon his ear. His heart began to beat, and he clenched his teeth and his hands and listened. The excitement he was in was more than nine-tenths self-created, and he knew it, and rather scorned himself for it. Strain his ears as he would, he could hear no more than the murmur of the voice, and could not make out a spoken word, until, to his complete surprise, he heard his own singularly coupled. Two words came clearly'Marry Hiram'-and then the voice went humming on again inaudibly. Marry Hiram?' thought the listener. Am I dreamin'? What on airth is this?' He crept nearer, and heard the voice more clearly.

name,

'You must know, it said in low and urgent tones, 'that unless she has a female companion, she will be laid open to such scandalous suspicions that there will be no removing them. You will have no responsibility. It is not in your power to prevent her from going. I will land you at Swansea to-morrow; and directly after the wed ding, you can return; and with five hundred pounds in hand, you can marry at once. Think, you foolish girl, how few the chances you are likely to have of making so much money.'

Hiram needed no sight of the speaker to know that it was Val Strange. He seemed in

e

a very whirlpool of amazement, and could scarcely believe that his premonition was coming true, clearly as he heard the words and plainly as they carried their own meaning.

[ocr errors]

'Oh,' said another voice, and though Hiram was prepared to hear it, he started at it, so that he almost betrayed his presence, Hiram would never forgive me-never! He is fond of Mr Lumby, and he spoke of him many a time before he went into his service. And, O Mr Strange, you have been very kind to me'-(What was this? asked the listener, with a new madness in his veins) but is it fair to run away with her the day before the wedding?'

Will you come?' asked Val impatiently. 'Yes, or no. Five hundred pounds-think what it means-wealthy friends for life, who will never forget the service you have done them-think what it means. Will you come?'

'O Mr Strange,' cried Mary, 'I dare not. It all seems wicked, and Hiram would never forgive me.'

in his tones.

You are not so grateful as you pretended to be,' said Val, under his breath, but with anger 'You might never have seen Hiram again but for me. What would you have done if I had not befriended you at Southampton?'

The listener in the midst of his amazement breathed more freely. He had heard that story. So Val Strange was the unknown benefactor upon whom he had so often called down blessings in his heart. It softened somewhat the rage he felt against him.

'If it were not for Hiram,' cried the girl. 'Hush!' said Val. Do not speak so loud. Come, decide. Your mistress will not move without you; and if you will not come, you have wrecked her life for ever. Ask what you will. If you are trying to make the terms for such a trifling service higher, ask what you will. Think what this foolish delay may mean. Will you come?'

'No,' said the girl, but in a voice in which the listener could read a tone of yielding. He crept nearer, until he laid a hand upon the gray stone of the gateway pillar. The gates were open, and the pair stood just within them. Val pressed the yielding girl harder.

'Suppose somebody tried to make you marry a man you did not love, and Hiram wanted to save you and to take you away, would that be wicked? And if you had a friend who was too hard-hearted to come with you and save you from scandal, would you forgive her?'

'I will go,' said little Mary.

'No,' said Hiram, stepping into the moonlight; 'I reckon you won't.'

They stood astounded before him. Mary shrieked, and ran towards the house; but Val was rooted to the spot he stood on. For one awful moment he expected Gerard's form to appear behind Hiram's, and almost listened for the reproaches of the friend he had endeavoured to betray. But he was no coward after all, and his nerves sprang up like steel as he faced the intruder.

What brings you here?' he asked.

I can't speak lightly of sacred things, Mr Valentine Strange,' said Hiram; 'and I won't

say what hand guided me here to stop your

villainy. But I'm here in time. Drop it. I shan't break my master's faithful heart by telling him the plot I lighted on. But I score off you. I do now, re'ly.'

'Do you?' said Val with desperate softness, toying with something that hung at his watchchain and glittered in the moonlight. 'Are you sure?'

'I'm sure of this much, anyway,' said Hiram, drawling on the words 'I shan't clear out o this 'fore you do, an' it'll bother you to take my boss's gell away while I stand by. Val raised the glittering something to his lips and blew a soft clear whistle. Quick as lightning, Hiram leaped at him, and though too late to check the call, he gripped his wrists like iron, and began to haul him down the carriage-way, resolved on holding him and alarming the household. They could not all be in the plot, and some of the men-servants would surely be ready to do a little for the honour of the house they served.

'Come here and help me,' said Val in a soft and quiet voice. Hold this fellow, and do not let him go, till we are safe on board.' Before the words had left his lips, Hiram released his hands and struck him down. Turning, he saw three seamen in the gateway, and grasped the whole situation in a flash. It would take the yacht an hour to round the headland, and he felt sure that he could reach Lumby Hall in a quarter of an hour. That would give time to alarm Gerard, to saddle horses, and to gallop here and intercept the flight, or even to pull out and board the yacht. He stood a second, and then burst past them at a leap, and recovering from a stumble in the road which had almost wrecked his purpose, he sped down the lane like an arrow.

Val was on his feet again. Follow him!' he cried. 'Double across the fields, and stop him at any cost. He is making for Lumby Hall,' he panted, running beside his men, already in pursuit. This way, and you will cut him off before he reaches Welbeck Bay.'

But as they broke through the hedge, they saw that Hiram, nearly a hundred yards ahead, had shot through a gap, and was taking advantage of the short-cut home. He ran like a hare, and at every stride increased the distance between himself and his pursuers. Val called them off, and they came back breathing heavily, from the brief burst they had made.

'You have the luggage?' he asked.-One of them answered 'Yes.Run down with it to the boat at once. Two of you can carry it.-You, Thomson, stay behind with me, and take care of the maid.' It was evident that he had taken the crew of the yacht into his confidence, and probable that he had even feared some failure in his plans. The two men set briskly off; and Val, leaving the third at a little distance from the gateway, walked down the drive, stopping a moment to adjust his disordered dress. The back of the house was in complete darkness as he passed it, but there was a sound of laughter in the servants' quarters. He went by lightly, and entered at the open windows of the diningroom. There he found Mary. She was crying bitterly, but with little noise. Tell your

All is ready,' said Val quietly. mistress.'

« PreviousContinue »