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may retire, the military authorities sess themselves of the line, and de on the spot must select some posi- stroy it; and unless you are pretion where the grand army, which pared to support your patrols with they propose to employ in active an army, the patrols can offer no operations, shall assemble. Such a resistance which shall be effectual position ought to be central, so that against superior numbers. support may be conveniently sent But though we may withdraw our from it to either flank, without, divisions for a time from the dishowever, too much weakening the tricts to the south of the St Lawforce which is kept in hand, to act rence, it does not therefore follow wherever the enemy may show him- that they are abandoned. Each self in greatest strength. It is not county has its own local militiafor us to indicate where the posi- these will all turn out; and should tion should be. Enough is done the enemy be so ill advised as to when we point out that it ought weaken himself in order to put not to be too distant either from them down, they will show good Montreal or from Quebec, and that fight for their hearths and homes it should be chosen with a special against his detachments. But this eye to the railways, canals, roads, is not all. The armies of New and other lines of communication Brunswick and of Nova Scotia will which, when maneuvring begins, not be idle. Leaving a sufficient can be made available.
number, say 2000 regular troops This plan of ours may, perhaps, and 8000 or 10,000 militia, to guard be objected to as implying the the provinces, the remainder will abandonment of all those valuable act upon the enemy's communicacounties which lie on the right bank tions, eluding or fighting the corps of the St Lawrence, and, still more, of observation which watches them, of the Grand Trunk Railway between and breaking up every line of rail Quebec and Montreal. Why not en to which they can gain access. deavour, in the first instance, to re- successful here, success will soon tain your hold upon these counties ļ attend the British arms elsewhere. and if that be impossible, why give The heavy columns in front of Montup the railway without a struggle ? real will find it necessary to retire. Our answer is, that it would be im- The British army will cross the St prudent at the opening of a cam Lawrence in pursuit, and the campaign to commit a young army to a paign is just as likely to end by esgeneral action with such a river as tablishing a new frontier for Canada, the St Lawrence in its rear; and with Portland on one flank, and Lake that, in order to nurse such an army, Ontario on the other, as by leaving and render it effective, you must the enemy in permanent possession leave many outlying provinces to of a mile of Canadian territory. take care of themselves. With re We give these speculations for spect, again, to the Grand Trunk what they are worth. The results Railway, it has elsewhere been of a war so waged must, of course, shown that, with an enterprising depend upon the military genius of enemy in our front, it becomes use the leaders on either side, and the less to us as soon as hostilities begin. bravery of the troops. But assumA chain, be its length what it may, ing these to be equal, we think the is only as strong as its weakest link; odds are in favour of our own counand a railway which runs for thirty trymen. Indeed, if the proposed miles within ten miles of a hostile canal be completed in time, from frontier, can scarcely be made use the seaboard to Lake Ontario, and of in war for the conveyance of the flying corps, which is to harass troops. As to patrolling these thirty the American coasts, do its duty, miles, either on foot or by detached the war with England of 1863 will cars, that expedient could serve no probably teach the Federals a lesson possible purpose. The first effort which they are not likely to forget made by the enemy will be to pos- for many years afterwards.
AUGUSTUS WELBY PUGIN.-NOTE.
(A PASSAGE in the Review of the Life of the late Augustus Welby Pugin, which appeared in the December Number of the Magazine, has called forth the following very proper and judicious letter, which we willingly print, not merely in courtesy to Mr Pugin's family, but as a clear and satisfactory statement of facts, which must for the future remove all misconception on the subject.
We have only to add how deeply we regret that, in describing the character and career of an eminent public man who had been visited with the saddest of all human afflictions, the loss of reason, we should have said anything which could recall that great sorrow to his family in a painful manner, or render it necessary for them to come before the public with any explanations on such a subject.]
TO THE EDITOR OF .“ BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE." SIR,—I trust you will allow me space in your valuable pages to correct a misstatement put forward in your December Number, concerning the mental malady and death of my father, and the neglect he is alleged to have suffered at the hands of his friends.
In an interesting and favourable review of my father's life, the writer more than once makes allusion to the mystery, now, he fears, never to be cleared up,” which surrounded the last days of my father's laborious
He states how the English public, to whom the name of Welby Pugin was familiar, were on the sudden astonished at the news that the great artist was in Bethlehem Hospital; and how, after an outbreak of popular indignation, my father was stealthily removed by his guardians from the sad place of refuge. But how, asks the writer, came a man of so proud and independent a spirit-and one, too, who always had the honest English habit of paying his way—to be so deserted by his friends, as to be consigned in his calamity to the cold charity of a public institution ? The writer then darkly throws out hints of the possible existence of an Ecclesiastical conspiracy, set on foot against an unruly son of the Church.
Such a conspiracy is, I need scarcely say, a mere delusion on the part of the imaginative writer of this otherwise true and impartial article.
The facts of the case are simply these :-On the first outbreak of my father's malady at the Golden Cross Hotel, Dr Tweedie was called in by the late Sir Charles Barry, who at once advised his being placed under the care of Dr Phelp, of Kensington House ; but finding his state of mind did not improve, after anxious deliberation on the part of his friends, some of whom were desirous he should be intrusted to the care of Dr Forbes Winslow, it was finally decided in favour of Bethlehem. The reason adduced for this decision was, that a professional man, personally known to my father's friends, had just left that institution, after a short confinement, perfectly restored; and all agreed that he would there receive the best professional treatment, and be at the same time under the constant care of his old friend, Dr Doyle, of St George's. So far, again, from his removal from this institution being stealthily effected, or caused by an outraged public opinion, I can only say that my father's removal was solely at the instance of his wife, who, in conjunction with the Rev. Mr Glennie, acted in opposition to the wishes of his other
friends (who were satisfied with his treatment and progress whilst at Bethlehem), and removed him to the Grove, Hammersmith, where they remained in constant attendance upon him. Dr Dickson was called in, under whose care he remained during six weeks, during which time my father had so far recovered as to be able to return to his house at Ramsgate, where, two days after his arrival, he was seized with an epileptic fit, from which he never rallied.
The close of my father's life was surely tragic enough, without importing into the sad story conjectures as mysterious as they are groundless. Where, too, was the need of seeking for imaginary causes of my father's malady? In these days it is not so very uncommon an occurrence for men of genius and ardent natures to be cut off as he was in the pride and hope of life, shattered in body and mind. In my father's case, this sad termination of a too excited life is scarcely to be wondered at, when we consider that his devotion to his art was so intense as to admit of no bodily or mental relaxation, his continuous daily labours commencing at sunrise, and seldom ending before midnight.
With regard to the surprise which has been expressed, that in his latter years my father experienced neglect from those high in authority in his Church, it is but due to his memory to take this opportunity of stating, that it arose in no way from doctrinal causes, but simply from architectural differences of opinion.
Your obedient servant,
E. WELBY PUGIN.
THE GRANGE, RAMSGATE,
Jan. 14, 1862.
Printed by William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh.
AFTER the remarkable encounter introduced. This happy privacy which had thus happened to the was in a little
parlour, which, being young minister, life went on with on the same floor with the butterhim in the dullest routine for some shop, naturally was not without a days. Thursday came, and he had reminiscence of the near vicinity to go to Mrs Brown's tea - party, of all those hams and cheeses-a where, in the drawing - room up- room nearly blocked up by the large stairs, over the Devonshire Dairy, family-table, at which, to the disafter tea, and music, and the diver- gust of Phæbe, the apprentices sat sions of the evening, he conducted at meal-times along with the family. prayers to the great secret satisfac- One little boy, distinguished out of tion of the hostess, who felt that the doors by a red worsted comforter, superior piety of her entertainment was, besides Phæbe, the only mementirely made up for any little ad- ber of the family itself now at vantage in point of gentility which home; the others being two sons, Mrs Tozer, with a grown-up daugh- one in Australia, and the other ter fresh from a boarding-school, studying for a minister, as Mrs might have over her. On Friday Tozer had already informed her evening there was the singing-class pastor, with motherly pride. Mrs at the chapel, which Mr Vincent Tozer sat in an easy-chair by the was expected to look in upon, and fire darning stockings on this Ocfrom which he had the privilege tober night; her husband, oppoof walking home with Miss Tozer. site to her, had been looking over When he arrived with his bloom- his greasy books, one of which ing charge at the private door, the lay open upon a little writingexistence of which he had not desk, where a bundle of smaller hitherto been aware of, Tozer him- ones in red leather, with “ Tozer, self appeared to invite the young Cheesemonger,” stamped on them pastor to enter. This time it was in gilt letters, lay waiting Phæbe's the butterman's unadorned domes- arrival to be made up. The Bentic hearth to which Mr Vincent was jamin of the house sat half-way VOL. XCI.—NO. DLVII.
down the long table with his slate into the kitchen to inquire into working at his lessons. The mar
The minister and the gin of space round this long table deacon were accordingly left alone. scarcely counted in the aspect of “Three more pews applied for the room. There was space enough this week-fifteen sittings in all,” for chairs to be set round it, and said Mr Tozer ; that's what I call that was all: the table, with its satisfactory, that is. We mustn't red - and - blue cover and the faces let the steam go down—not on no appearing about it, constituted the account. You keep well at them entire scene. Mr Vincent stood of Sundays, Mr Vincent, and trust uneasily at a corner when he was to the managers, sir, to keep 'em brought into the apartment, and up to their dooty. Me and Mr distinctly placed himself at table, Tufton was consulting the other as if at a meal, when he sat down. day. He says as we oughtn't to
“Do you now take off your great spare you, and you oughtn't to coat, and make yourself comfort- spare yourself. There hasn't been able,” said Mrs Tozer ; there's a such a opening not in our connecbit of supper coming presently. tion for fifteen year. We all look This is just what I like, is this. A to you to go into it, Mr Vincent. party is very well in its way, Mr If all goes as I expect, and you Vincent, sir; but when a genʼleman keep up as you're doing, I see no comes in familiar, and takes us just reason why we shouldn't be able as we are, that's what I like. We to put another fifty to the salary never can be took wrong of an next year.” evening, Tozer and me; there's al- “Oh !” said poor Vincent, with ways a bit of something comfort- a miserable face. He had been able for supper; and after the shop's rather pleased to hear about the shut in them long evenings, time's “ opening,” but this matter-of-fact free. Phæbe, make haste and take encouragement and stimulus threw off your things. What a colour him back into dismay and disgust. you've got, to be sure, with the “Yes,” said the deacon,” though night air! I declare, Pa, somebody I wouldn't advise you, as a young must have been saying something man settin' out in life, to calculate to her, or she'd never look so upon it, yet we all think it's more bright.”
than likely; but if you was to ask “I daresay there's more things my advice, I'd say to give it than music gets talked of at the 'em a little more plain — meaning singing," said Tozer, thus appealed the Church folks. It's expected of to. “But she'd do a deal better
I'd touch 'em up in if she'd try to improve her mind the State Church line, Mr Vincent, than take notice what the young if I was you. Give us a coorse fellows says.”
upon the anomalies, and that sort “Oh, Pa, the idea! and before of thing—the bishops in their paMr Vincent too,” cried Phæbe laces, and the fishermen as was the “to think I should ever dream of start of it all; there's a deal to be listening to anything that anybody done in that way. It always tells ; might choose to say!”
and my opinion is as you might Vincent, to whom the eyes of secure the most part of the young the whole family turned, grinned men and thinkers, and them as can a feeble smile, but, groaning in his see what's what, if you lay it on mind, was totally unequal to the pretty strong. Not,” added the effort of saying anything. After a deacon, remembering in time to moment's pause of half-disappoint- add that necessary salve to the coned expectation, Phæbe disappeared science—“not as I would have you to take off her bonnet; and Mrs neglect what's more important; but, Tozer, bestirring herself, cleared after all, what is more important, Mr away the desk and books, and went Vincent, than freedom of opinion
a new man.