who is really a lady of high rank and great wealth, though in her
youth she enjoyed none of the privileges of wealth or rank, marries
a tailor who had been good to her, and whom she had loved when she
was poor and neglected. A fine young noble lover is provided for
her, and all the charms of sweet living with nice people are thrown
in her way, in order that she may be made to give up the tailor.
And the charms are very powerful with her. But the feeling that
she is bound by her troth to the man who had always been true to
her overcomes everything,--and she marries the tailor. It was my
wish of course to justify her in doing so, and to carry my readers
along with me in my sympathy with her. But everybody found fault
with me for marrying her to the tailor. What would they have said
if I had allowed her to jilt the tailor and marry the good-looking
young lord? How much louder, then, would have been the censure!
The book was read, and I was satisfied. If I had not told my story
well, there would have been no feeling in favour of the young lord.
The horror which was expressed to me at the evil thing I had done,
in giving the girl to the tailor, was the strongest testimony I
could receive of the merits of the story.
I went to Australia chiefly in order that I might see my son among
his sheep. I did see him among his sheep, and remained with him for
four or five very happy weeks. He was not making money, nor has he
made money since. I grieve to say that several thousands of pounds
which I had squeezed out of the pockets of perhaps too liberal
publishers have been lost on the venture. But I rejoice to say
that this has been in no way due to any fault of his. I never knew
a man work with more persistent honesty at his trade than he has
done.
I had, however, the further intentions of writing a book about the
entire group of Australasian Colonies; and in order that I might
be enabled to do that with sufficient information, I visited them
all. Making my headquarters at Melbourne, I went to Queensland, New
South Wales, Tasmania, then to the very little known territory of
Western Australia, and then, last of all, to New Zealand. I was
absent in all eighteen months, and think that I did succeed in
learning much of the political, social, and material condition of
these countries. I wrote my book as I was travelling and brought
it back with me to England all but completed in December, 1872.
It was a better book than that which I had written eleven years
before on the American States, but not so good as that on the West
Indies in 1859. As regards the information given, there was much
more to be said about Australia than the West Indies. Very much
more is said,--and very much more may be learned from the latter
than from the former book. I am sure that any one who will take
the trouble to read the book on Australia, will learn much from
it. But the West Indian volume was readable. I am not sure that
either of the other works are, in the proper sense of that word.
When I go back to them I find that the pages drag with me;--and if
so with me, how must it be with others who have none of that love
which a father feels even for his ill-favoured offspring. Of all
the needs a book has the chief need is that it be readable.
Feeling that these volumes on Australia were dull and long, I was
surprised to find that they had an extensive sale. There were, I
think, 2000 copies circulated of the first expensive edition; and
then the book was divided into four little volumes, which were
published separately, and which again had a considerable circulation.
That some facts were stated inaccurately, I do not doubt; that many
opinions were crude, I am quite sure; that I had failed to understand
much which I attempted to explain, is possible. But with all these
faults the book was a thoroughly honest book, and was the result of
unflagging labour for a period of fifteen months. I spared myself
no trouble in inquiry, no trouble in seeing, and no trouble in
listening. I thoroughly imbued my mind with the subject, and wrote
with the simple intention of giving trustworthy information on
the state of the Colonies. Though there be inaccuracies,--those
inaccuracies to which work quickly done must always be subject,--I
think I did give much valuable information.
I came home across America from San Francisco to New York, visiting
Utah and Brigham Young on the way. I did not achieve great intimacy
with the great polygamist of the Salt Lake City. I called upon
him, sending to him my card, apologising for doing so without an
introduction, and excusing myself by saying that I did not like
to pass through the territory without seeing a man of whom I had
heard so much. He received me in his doorway, not asking me to
enter, and inquired whether I were not a miner. When I told him
that I was not a miner, he asked me whether I earned my bread. I
told him I did. "I guess you're a miner," said he. I again assured
him that I was not. "Then how do you earn your bread?" I told him
I did so by writing books. "I'm sure you're a miner," said he. Then
he turned upon his heel, went back into the house, and closed the
door. I was properly punished, as I was vain enough to conceive
that he would have heard my name.
I got home in December, 1872, and in spite of any resolution made
to the contrary, my mind was full of hunting as I came back. No
real resolutions had in truth been made, for out of a stud of four
horses I kept three, two of which were absolutely idle through the
two summers and winter of my absence. Immediately on my arrival
I bought another, and settled myself down to hunting from London
three days a week. At first I went back to Essex, my old country,
but finding that to be inconvenient, I took my horses to Leighton
Buzzard, and became one of that numerous herd of sportsmen who rode
with the "Baron" and Mr. Selby Lowndes. In those days Baron Meyer
was alive, and the riding with his hounds was very good. I did not
care so much for Mr. Lowndes. During the winters of 1873, 1874, and
1875, I had my horses back in Essex, and went on with my hunting,
always trying to resolve that I would give it up. But still I
bought fresh horses, and, as I did not give it up, I hunted more
than ever. Three times a week the cab has been at my door in London
very punctually, and not unfrequently before seven in the morning.
In order to secure this attendance, the man has always been invited
to have his breakfast in the hall. I have gone to the Great Eastern
Railway,--ah! so often with the fear that frost would make all my
exertions useless, and so often too with that result! And then,
from one station or another station, have travelled on wheels at
least a dozen miles. After the day's sport, the same toil has been
necessary to bring me home to dinner at eight. This has been work
for a young man and a rich man, but I have done it as an old man
and comparatively a poor man. Now at last, in April, 1876, I do
think that my resolution has been taken. I am giving away my old
horses, and anybody is welcome to my saddles and horse-furniture.
"Singula de nobis anni praedantur euntes;
Eripuere jocos, venerem, convivia, ladum;
Tendunt extorquere poemata."
"Our years keep taking toll as they move on;