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Beginning JavaScript 5th Edition Jeremy Mcpeak Digital
Instant Download
Author(s): Jeremy McPeak
ISBN(s): 9781118903339, 1118903331
Edition: 5
File Details: PDF, 36.22 MB
Year: 2015
Language: english
 Beginning

JavaScript®
Fifth Edition

Jeremy McPeak
Paul Wilton
Beginning JavaScript® 5e
Published by
John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
10475 Crosspoint Boulevard
Indianapolis, IN 46256
www.wiley.com

Copyright © 2015 by John Wiley & Sons, Inc., Indianapolis, Indiana

Published simultaneously in Canada

ISBN: 978-1-118-90333-9
ISBN: 978-1-118-90343-8 (ebk)
ISBN: 978-1-118-90374-2 (ebk)

Manufactured in the United States of America

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countries, and may not be used without written permission. JavaScript is a registered trademark of Oracle, Inc. All other
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 This book is dedicated to my wife, Starla, and my
sons, Hayden, Evan, and Jordan. Thank you for your
love, support, and patience during the writing of this
book. To my parents: Jerry and Judy. Thank you for
your love and support.
— Jeremy McPeak

In memory of my mum, June Wilton, who in 2006 lost

her brave battle against cancer. She was always very
proud of me and my books and showed my books to
anyone and everyone she happened to meet however
briefly and whether they wanted to see them or not!
She’s very much missed.
— Paul Wilton
Credits

Project Editor Business Manager

Kelly Talbot Amy Knies

Technical Editor Associate Publisher

Russ Mullen Jim Minatel

Production Manager Project Coordinator, Cover

Kathleen Wisor Patrick Redmond

Copy Editor Proofreader

Kim Cofer Nancy Carrasco

Manager of Content Development Indexer

& Assembly Johnna VanHoose Dinse
Mary Beth Wakefield
Cover Designer
Marketing Director Wiley
David Mayhew
Cover Image
Marketing Manager ©iStock.com/hamikus
Carrie Sherrill

Professional Technology &

Strategy Director
Barry Pruett
About the AuthorS

Jeremy McPeak is a self-taught programmer who began his career by tinkering with websites in
1998. He is the author of JavaScript 24-Hour Trainer (Wiley 2010) and co-author of Professional
Ajax, 2nd Edition (Wiley 2007). He also contributes to Tuts+ Code (http://code.tutsplus.com),
providing articles, video tutorials, and courses for JavaScript, C#, and ASP.NET. He is currently
employed by an oil and gas company building in-house conventional and web applications. Jeremy
can be contacted via the p2p forums, his website (http://www.wdonline.com), and Twitter
(@jwmcpeak).

Paul Wilton started as a Visual Basic applications programmer at the Ministry of Defense in the
UK and then found himself pulled into the Net. Having joined an Internet development company, he
spent three years helping create Internet solutions. He’s now running his own successful and rapidly
growing company developing online holiday property reservation systems.
Acknowledgments

First and foremost, I want to thank God for the blessings he has bestowed upon me, and thank
you, dear reader, for without you this book would not be possible. Also, a huge thank you goes to
my wife and family for putting up with me as I spent my available weekend free-time updating this
book.
Writing and producing a book requires a lot of people, and I know I cannot name everyone who
has had a hand in this project. But a very big thank you goes to Jim Minatel and Robert Elliott for
green-lighting this project. Thank you Kelly Talbot for keeping me on track and putting up with
me. To the editing team, thank you for making my text look good. And to Russ Mullen, thanks for
keeping me honest.

— Jeremy McPeak

First, a big thank you to my partner Beci, who, now that the book’s finished, will get to see me
for more than 10 minutes a week.
I’d also like to say a very big thank you to the editors, who worked very efficiently on getting this
book into print.
Thanks also to Jim Minatel for making this book happen.
Many thanks to everyone who’s supported and encouraged me over my many years of writing
books. Your help will always be remembered.
Finally, pats and treats to my German Shepherd Dog, Katie, who does an excellent job of warding
off disturbances from door-to-door salespeople.
— Paul Wilton
Contents

Introduction xix

Chapter 1: Introduction to JavaScript and the Web 1

Introduction to JavaScript 1
What Is JavaScript? 2
JavaScript and the Web 3
What Can JavaScript Do for Me? 4
Tools Needed to Create JavaScript Web Applications 4
Development Tools 4
Web Browsers 5
Where Do My Scripts Go? 7
Linking to an External JavaScript File 7
Advantages of Using an External File 8
Your First Simple JavaScript Program 9
Writing More JavaScript 10
A Brief Look at Browsers and Compatibility Problems 15
Summary 16
Chapter 2: Data Types and Variables 17

Types of Data in JavaScript 18

Numerical Data 18
Text Data 19
Boolean Data 20
Variables—Storing Data in Memory 20
Creating Variables and Giving Them Values 22
Assigning Variables with the Value of Other Variables 24
Using Data—Calculations and Basic String Manipulation 26
Numerical Calculations 26
Increment and Decrement Operators 29
Operator Precedence 30
Basic String Operations 35
Mixing Numbers and Strings 37
Data Type Conversion 38
Dealing with Strings That Won’t Convert 41
Contents

Arrays 43
A Multi‐Dimensional Array 47
Summary 52
Chapter 3: Decisions and Loops 55

Decision Making—The if and switch Statements 56

Comparison Operators 56
Precedence 57
Assignment versus Comparison 57
Assigning the Results of Comparisons 58
The if Statement 58
Logical Operators 62
AND 63
OR 64
NOT 64
Multiple Conditions Inside an if Statement 65
else and else if 69
Comparing Strings 70
The switch Statement 71
Executing the Same Code for Different Cases 75
Looping—The for and while Statements 76
The for Loop 76
The for…in Loop 80
The while Loop 80
The do…while loop 82
The break and continue Statements 83
Summary 84
Chapter 4: Functions and Scope 87

Creating Your Own Functions 88

Scope and Lifetime 92
Global Scope 92
Functional Scope 93
Identifier Lookup 93
Functions as Values 94
Summary 97
Chapter 5: JavaScript—An Object‐Based Language 99

Object‐Based Programming 100

What Are Objects? 100
Objects in JavaScript 100

viii
 contents

Using JavaScript Objects 101

Creating an Object 102
Using an Object’s Properties 103
Calling an Object’s Methods 104
Primitives and Objects 104
JavaScript’s Native Object Types 105
String Objects 105
The length Property 106
Finding a String Inside Another String—The indexOf()
and lastIndexOf() Methods 106
Copying Part of a String—The substr() and substring() Methods 109
Converting Case—The toLowerCase() and toUpperCase() Methods 110
Selecting a Single Character from a String—The charAt()
and charCodeAt() Methods 111
Converting Character Codes to a String—The fromCharCode() Method 115
Removing Leading and Trailing Whitespace—The trim() Method 115
Array Objects 116
Finding Out How Many Elements Are in an Array—The length Property 116
Adding Elements—The push() Method 117
Joining Arrays—The concat() Method 117
Copying Part of an Array—The slice() Method 118
Converting an Array into a Single String—The join() Method 119
Putting Your Array in Order—The sort() Method 119
Putting Your Array into Reverse Order—The reverse() Method 121
Finding Array Elements—The indexOf() and lastIndexOf() Methods 122
Iterating through an Array without Loops 123
The Math Object 126
The abs() Method 127
Finding the Largest and Smallest Numbers—The min() and
max() Methods 127
Rounding Numbers 127
The random() Method 131
The pow() Method 132
Number Objects 134
The toFixed() Method 134
Date Objects 135
Creating a Date Object 135
Getting Date Values 136
Setting Date Values 139
Calculations and Dates 140
Getting Time Values 140
Setting Time Values 143

ix
Contents

Creating Your Own Custom Objects 144

Creating New Types of Objects (Reference Types) 148
Defining a Reference Type 149
Creating and Using Reference Type Instances 150
Summary 151
Chapter 6: String Manipulation 153

Additional String Methods 154

The split() Method 154
The replace() Method 156
The search() Method 157
The match() Method 157
Regular Expressions 158
Simple Regular Expressions 159
Regular Expressions: Special Characters 162
Text, Numbers, and Punctuation 162
Repetition Characters 165
Position Characters 166
Covering All Eventualities 170
Grouping Regular Expressions 171
Reusing Groups of Characters 173
The String Object 175
The split() Method 175
The replace() Method 177
The search() Method 179
The match() Method 180
Using the RegExp Object’s Constructor 183
Telephone Number Validation 185
Validating a Postal Code 187
Validating an E‐mail Address 189
Validating a Domain Name 189
Validating a Person’s Address 190
Validating the Complete Address 190
Summary 191
Chapter 7: Date, Time, and Timers 193

World Time 194

Setting and Getting a Date Object’s UTC Date and Time 197
Timers in a Web Page 200
One‐Shot Timer 200
Setting a Timer that Fires at Regular Intervals 202
Summary 203
x
 contents

Chapter 8: Programming the Browser 205

Introduction to the Browser’s Objects 206

The window Object 207
The history Object 208
The location Object 209
The navigator Object 210
The geolocation Object 210
The screen Object 213
The document Object 213
Using the document Object 214
The images Collection 216
The links Collection 218
Determining the User’s Browser 218
Feature Detection 218
Browser Sniffing 221
Summary 225

Chapter 9: DOM Scripting 229

The Web Standards 231

HTML 232
ECMAScript 233
The Document Object Model 234
The DOM Standard 234
Level 0 234
Level 1 234
Level 2 235
Level 3 235
Level 4 235
Browser Compliance with the Standards 235
Differences between the DOM and the BOM 236
Representing the HTML Document as a Tree Structure 236
What Is a Tree Structure? 236
An Example HTML Page 237
The Core DOM Objects 238
Base DOM Objects 238
High‐Level DOM Objects 239
DOM Objects and Their Properties and Methods 240
The Document Object and its Methods 240
The Element Object 246
The Node Object 250

xi
Contents

Manipulating the DOM 259

Accessing Elements 259
Changing Appearances 259
Using the style Property 259
Changing the class Attribute 262
Positioning and Moving Content 263
Example: Animated Advertisement 264
Are We There Yet? 264
Performing the Animation 265
Summary 268
Chapter 10: Events 271

Types of Events 272

Connecting Code to Events 273
Handling Events via HTML Attributes 273
Handling Events via Object Properties 280
The Standard Event Model 283
Connecting Code to Events—The Standard Way 283
Using Event Data 289
Event Handling in Old Versions
of Internet Explorer 298
Accessing the event Object 298
Using Event Data 300
Writing Cross‐Browser Code 307
Native Drag and Drop 317
Making Content Draggable 318
Creating a Drop Target 319
Transferring Data 325
Summary 333
Chapter 11: HTML Forms: Interacting with the User 335

HTML Forms 336

Traditional Form Object Properties and Methods 338
HTML Elements in Forms 339
Common Properties and Methods 340
The name Property 340
The value Property 340
The form Property 340
The type Property 340
The focus() and blur() Methods 340
Button Elements 341
Text Elements 345

xii
 contents

The Text Box 345

Problems with Firefox and the blur Event 350
The Password Text Box 351
The Hidden Text Box 351
The textarea Element 351
Check Boxes and Radio Buttons 355
Selection Boxes 364
Adding and Removing Options 365
Adding New Options with Standard Methods 369
Select Element Events 370
HTML5 Form Object Properties and Methods 375
New Input Types 376
New Elements 380
The <output/> Element 380
The <meter/> and <progress/> Elements 382
Summary 386

Chapter 12: JSON 391

XML 392
JSON 393
Simple Values 394
Objects 394
Arrays 395
Serializing Into JSON 396
Parsing JSON 396
Summary 400
Chapter 13: Data Storage 403

Baking Your First Cookie 404

A Fresh‐Baked Cookie 404
Viewing Cookies in Internet Explorer 404
Viewing Cookies in Firefox 409
Viewing Cookies in Chrome 411
The Cookie String 413
name and value 413
expires 413
path 414
domain 415
secure 416
Creating a Cookie 416
Getting a Cookie’s Value 419

xiii
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
deeds related. Such has ever been considered the real end of
biographical literature.
In this respect, the Life of O'Connell, by Sister Mary Francis Clare, is
much superior to Mr. Luby's, as it is in every other essential quality,
though in itself far inferior to what might have been expected from
so popular a writer, particularly when dealing with so great and
congenial a theme. In her book of eight hundred pages, the good
religious has shown a vast amount of industry, a genuine
appreciation of the character, labors, and conduct of the Liberator,
and considerable literary skill in presenting them to the public in the
most attractive and readable form. The correspondence between
O'Connell and the venerable Archbishop of Tuam, now for the first
time published, constitutes a most valuable, perhaps the most
valuable, feature in the work, and, as a glimpse at the inner life of
the busy lawyer and untiring agitator, will be read with particular
gratification by the admirers of his extraordinary abilities in this
country. Here, we regret to say, our praise of Miss Cusack's book
must end. As a biography of one of the most remarkable public men
of this century or of any country, it is not a decided success, and, as
coming from the pen of an experienced, facile, and patriotic writer, it
will, we do not doubt, disappoint the majority of her admirers at
home and abroad. With the exception of the letters to Abp. McHale,
alluded to above, and some original notes and appendices supplied
by friends, the facts, incidents, and anecdotes recounted of the Irish
leader are mainly taken from such books as those of O'Neill Daunt,
Fegan, Sheil, and his own son, John O'Connell, all of which may be
found in an anonymous compilation published five or six years ago.
[76]

We do not find fault so much with the fact that it is so largely a

compilation, as with the crude manner in which the extracts from
those works are collated and presented to the public. We can even
point to several instances where they are inserted bodily in the text,
as original, without quotation-marks, foot-notes, or any other sign of
reference. This may or may not be the fault of the printer, but the
examples are so numerous as to incline us to the latter opinion. We
have often admired the industry of Miss Cusack in bringing out so
many good books in such rapid succession; as well as her zeal in
endeavoring to aid, by the products of her genius, a most
meritorious charity; but we hold it to be against the laws both of fair
play and literary courtesy to neglect to accord to the labors of others
a proper share of acknowledgment.
We do not want to be unreasonable. Had the gifted authoress
allowed herself more time, and related the dramatic story of
O'Connell's life entirely in her own words, we would have been
satisfied. We do not expect that a lady secluded from the world,
necessarily devoting the greater part of her time to the duties of her
calling, and consequently practically unacquainted with the outside
political world, its storms, passions, and intrigues, can treat us to
anything like a full or elaborate disquisition on the circumstances,
dangers, and difficulties which surrounded and impeded the career
of such a man as the emancipator of the Catholics of Great Britain
and Ireland. Only a person who has devoted much time to the
examination of the history of Ireland and England, for the past
hundred years, at least; who himself has been a participant in, or an
interested spectator of, the unceasing conflict which during that
period was naturally waged between the Irish nationalists and their
opponents, can attempt to do so. This war was carried on in every
relation of life; at the bar, on the bench; in the pulpit, press, and
forum; in the workshop, the club, and the halls of St. Stephen; and
the central figure, the invincible leader of the aggressive and at
length victorious national party, was O'Connell—the man who for
near half a century dared all opposition and defied all hostile power
in the championship of the cause of his persecuted countrymen and
co-religionists.
However men may differ as to the wisdom, policy, or honesty of
O'Connell, none will deny that he was a man of stupendous intellect
and indomitable perseverance. In everything he was gigantic. In
physique, mental attainments, courage, virtues, and even in his
errors, he was decidedly great. There was nothing small or dwarfed
about him; and as, a popular leader while living, he seemed to hold
in his hand the control of the masses of his countrymen; so, when
dead, the very mention of his name is enough to awaken the
gratitude and evoke the admiration of millions of the present
generation, whose advent into the world succeeded his demise. Not
only in Ireland was he trusted, beloved, and revered, but on the
continent of Europe and in this country his name was associated
with the cause of civil and religious liberty, and his every movement
watched with interest by all classes. And when at length, worn down
by his excessive labors in behalf of faith and liberty, he yielded up
his soul to his Creator, his piety and patriotism became the subjects
of unqualified encomiums from the noblest and most distinguished
orators in both hemispheres. Surely so great an embodiment of zeal
and genius, well directed, deserves a fitting chronicler.
Born of a house never remarkable before nor since his time for
attachment to creed or country; educated far from the influences of
his native land, we find him returning to it just as he had completed
his majority, an accomplished scholar and a barrister, with nothing to
depend upon but his own labors for support, yet full of ambition and
eager for distinction. Had he followed the traditions of his family, he
would have settled down quietly to the practice of his profession,
and in course of time, doubtless, would have become wealthy and a
useful assistant to the hostile power that controlled the destinies of
his nation, as too many of his professional brothers had already
done. But the young lawyer, to the dismay of many of his relations,
soon showed that he was made of sterner stuff. He could not "bend
the pregnant hinges of the knee, that thrift might follow fawning."
He had arrived home in time to witness the horrors of '98; he had
seen his fellow-Catholics, even then four-fifths of the population of
Ireland, bowed down to the very dust, sneered at, reprobated, and,
on their own soil, denied every social, commercial, and political right
to which as freemen they were entitled; and, with a courage that
never deserted him, and a capacity for labor that was truly
remarkable, he ranged himself on the side of the proscribed, and
took up the gauntlet cast down to the oppressed by the powerful
and unscrupulous faction which then, as now, represented British
supremacy in Ireland.
His first appearance in public, being then but twenty-three years old,
was in 1799, when the question of a legislative union between
Ireland and England convulsed the former and deeply moved the
public mind of the latter country. At a meeting in Dublin, he
denounced the measure in terms so bold, clear, and forcible that
those who listened to him had little difficulty in foreseeing his future
eminence and usefulness to the national cause. The scheme of Pitt
and Castlereagh was, however, carried out, the Irish parliament was
destroyed, and the Catholics saw themselves at the beginning of the
century not only without a domestic legislature, but shut out from all
representation, not only in the united Lords and Commons, but even
in the most insignificant corporation and local boards.
Where, then, could the ardent young patriot, gifted, enthusiastic,
and impatient of the restrictions placed upon himself and his fellow-
countrymen, find an audience and an outlet for the fiery eloquence
that heaved and burned in his soul? Clearly in popular gatherings
and in the courts of law. But the people at that time were so timid,
nay, so degraded, that they dared not assemble in any force to
protest against the tyranny that had for so many generations
enslaved them; or, if a few hundreds did assemble together, the
sight of a magistrate, or the presence of some truculent follower of
the castle, like the infamous Maj. Sirr, was sufficient to disperse
them, while the few Catholic noblemen and gentry yet left were as
timid as so many hares. The Irish Catholics of that epoch, so long
trodden under foot, and deprived absolutely of political power and
landed interests, were not like the Catholics of to-day, who, in all
thankfulness be it said, are triumphantly bearing aloft the banner of
the church when so much of Europe is trailing it in the mire of
infidelity and communism. Then Wolfe Tone, once their secretary, in
his Memoirs, and Wyse, in his History of the Catholic Association,
likened them to the servile Jews, and described them as deficient in
manliness and self-respect. They crawled at the feet of a hostile
government, says the latter, fawned on their Protestant neighbors,
and felt honored by being even noticed by persons of that creed,
even though in every respect their inferiors. Such people had very
little business in the civil courts to give, and what little they had they
gave to those who loathed their creed and despised themselves.
O'Connell soon saw that nothing could be effected in the way of
popular demonstrations with such unpromising materials. He
therefore adopted another and a wiser course. The courts became
his fulcrum, and his eloquence the lever, by which he sought to raise
the spirit of the nation. Term after term, year after year, his potent
voice was heard ringing through the halls of justice by an astonished
bar and delighted and electrified audiences, in the defence of the
victims of landlord tyranny or official persecution. His arguments to
the bench, and his harangues to the jury, were always full of fire,
audacity, and logic, and were seldom, even in the face of
unmitigated prejudice, unsuccessful. Pathos and humor, wit and
vituperation, strong appeals to the patriotism of his hearers, and
stern denunciations of the rashness and folly of some of his
compatriots, were with him invariably mingled with sound common
sense and unerring legal acumen. So great, indeed, was his success
as a pleader in criminal cases, so unlimited his resources in difficult
motions, and so general his triumphs over ignorance and bigotry,
that, before most of his fellow-practitioners had earned their first
fees, he found himself in the enjoyment of a lucrative practice, and,
what to him was an object of much greater importance, the
spokesman of the degraded majority, and the oracle of his people.
His forensic efforts were not confined to judges and juries
exclusively. He lost no opportunity of throwing into his legal
arguments and speeches some remarks for the benefit of the
masses who always throng Irish courts—remarks which never failed
to elicit the wildest delight and the most hearty applause.
In this indirect way he was gradually infusing into his countrymen
that spirit of manhood which so powerfully moved himself. As an
evidence of this, we may quote an extract, though a long one, from
his speech in defence of Magee, editor of the Evening Post, then the
most influential advocate of Catholic rights in Ireland. In 1813,
Magee was prosecuted for a libel on the Duke of Richmond, the
retiring lord-lieutenant; and as the crown officers in their speeches,
and, as it appeared, by previous arrangement, endeavored to give to
the trial—having first selected a jury to suit themselves—a political
significance, Magee's counsel willingly joined issue with them on
their own terms. The array of legal ability on both sides was
proportionate to the gravity of the question involved. For the
government appeared the Attorney-General, Saurin, the Solicitor-
General, Bushe, and Sergeants Moore, Ball, and McMahon; for the
defence, O'Connell, assisted by Messrs. Wallace, Hamilton, Findley,
and Philips. Saurin, in his opening, alluding to the Catholic Board, of
which the defendant's newspaper was the organ, made use of these
words: "If the libel only related to him [Richmond], it would have
gone by unprosecuted by me. But the imputation is made against
the administration of justice by the government of Ireland, and it
forms only a part of a system of calumny with which an association
of factious and revolutionary men are in the habit of vilifying every
constitutional authority in the land." The opportunity thus afforded
O'Connell was instantly and dexterously seized by him to reply with
more than his usual boldness and wealth of invective. In the course
of his long address to the jury, he said:
"My lord, upon the Catholic subject I commence with one
assertion of the Attorney-General, which I trust I
misunderstood. He talked, as I collected him, of the
Catholics having imbibed principles of a seditious,
treasonable, and revolutionary nature! He seemed to me
most distinctly to charge us with treason! There is no
relying on his words for his meaning—I know there is not.
On a former occasion, I took down a repetition of this
charge full seventeen times on my brief; and yet
afterwards it turned out that he never intended to make
any such charge; that he forgot he had ever used those
words, and he disclaimed the idea they naturally convey.
It is clear, therefore, that upon this subject he knows not
what he says; and that these phrases are the mere
flowers of his rhetoric, but quite innocent of any meaning!
"Upon this account I pass him by, I go beyond him, and I
content myself with proclaiming those charges, whosoever
may make them, to be false and base calumnies! It is
impossible to refute such charges in the language of
dignity or temper. But if any man dares to charge the
Catholic body, or the Catholic Board, or any individuals of
that Board, with sedition or treason, I do here, I shall
always in this court, in the city, in the field, brand him as
an infamous and profligate liar!
"Pardon the phrase, but there is no other suitable to the
occasion. But he is a profligate liar who so asserts,
because he must know that the whole tenor of our
conduct confutes the assertion. What is it we seek?"
"Chief-Justice.—What, Mr. O'Connell, can this have to do
with the question which the jury are to try?"
"Mr. O'Connell.—You heard the Attorney-General traduce
and calumniate us; you heard him with patience and with
temper—listen now to our vindication!
"I ask, What is it we seek? What is it we incessantly, and,
if you please, clamorously, petition for? Why, to be
allowed to partake of the advantages of the constitution.
We are earnestly anxious to share the benefits of the
constitution. We look to the participation in the
constitution as our greatest political blessing. If we
desired to destroy it, would we seek to share it? If we
wished to overturn it, would we exert ourselves through
calumny, and in peril, to obtain a portion of its blessings?
Strange, inconsistent voice of calumny! You charge us
with intemperance in our exertions for a participation in
the constitution, and you charge us at the same time,
almost in the same sentence, with a design to overturn
the constitution. The dupes of your hypocrisy may believe
you; but, base calumniators, you do not, you cannot
believe yourselves!
"The Attorney-General—'this wisest and best of men,' as
his colleague, the Solicitor-General, called him in his
presence,—the Attorney-General next boasted of his
triumph over Pope and Popery; 'I put down the Catholic
Committee; I will put down, at my good time, the Catholic
Board.' This boast is partly historical, partly prophecy. He
was wrong in his history—he is quite mistaken in his
prophecy. He did not put down the Catholic Committee;
we gave up that name the moment that this sapient
Attorney-General's polemico-legal controversy dwindled
into a mere dispute about words. He told us that, in the
English language, 'pretence' means 'purpose.' Had it been
French and not English, we might have been inclined to
respect his judgment; but in point of English, we venture
to differ with him. We told him, 'Purpose,' good Mr.
Attorney-General, is just the reverse of 'pretence.' The
quarrel grew warm and animated. We appealed to
common sense, to the grammar, and to the dictionary;
common sense, grammar, and the dictionary decided in
our favor. He brought his appeal to this court, your
lordship, and your brethren unanimously decided that in
point of law—mark, mark, gentlemen of the jury, the
sublime wisdom of the law—the court decided that, in
point of law, 'pretence' does mean 'purpose'!
"Fully contented with this very reasonable and most
satisfactory decision, there still remained a matter of fact
between us. The Attorney-General charged us with being
representatives; we denied all representation. He had two
witnesses to prove the fact for him; they swore to it one
way at one trial, and directly the other way at the next. An
honorable, intelligent, and enlightened jury disbelieved
those witnesses at the first trial; matters were better
 managed at the second trial—the jury were better
arranged. I speak delicately, gentlemen: the jury were
better arranged, as the witnesses were better informed;
and, accordingly, there was one verdict for us on the
representative question, and one verdict against us....
"Let me pledge myself to you that he imposes on you
when he threatens to crush the Catholic Board. Illegal
violence may do it, force may effectuate it; but your hopes
and his will be defeated if he attempts it by any course of
law. I am, if not a lawyer, at least a barrister. On this
subject I ought to know something, and I do not hesitate
to contradict the Attorney-General on this point, and to
proclaim to you and to the country that the Catholic Board
is a perfectly legal assembly; that it not only does not
violate the law, but that it is entitled to the protection of
the law; and in the very proudest tone of firmness, I hurl
defiance at the Attorney-General!
"I defy him to allege a law or a statute, or even a
proclamation, that is violated by the Catholic Board. No,
gentlemen, no; his religious prejudices—if the absence of
every charity can be called anything religious,—his
religious prejudices really obscure his reason, his bigoted
intolerance has totally darkened his understanding, and he
mistakes the plainest facts, and misquotes the clearest
law, in the ardor and vehemence of his rancor. I disclaim
his moderation, I scorn his forbearance. I tell him he
knows not the law, if he thinks as he says; and if he thinks
so, I tell him to his beard that he is not honest in not
having sooner prosecuted us, and I challenge him to that
prosecution."[77]
Those were brave words, such as the ears of the English officials
were unused to hear, but which found a responsive echo in the
hearts of millions of the oppressed Catholics, degraded and
enthralled as they were at that time. On the first day of its
publication, ten thousand copies of the entire address were sold, and
in a short time it was to be found in nearly every house and place of
public resort in the country. It was also translated into French and
Spanish, and eagerly read and commented upon on the continent.
In fact, this trial may be considered the true initial point of the great
Catholic movement which culminated in emancipation sixteen years
afterwards.
To a man of less indomitable will and less transcendent legal
abilities, a course such as O'Connell had adopted would have been
utterly ruinous. Then, as now, but to a far greater extent, the Irish
judges were the mere creatures of the castle, and their least frown
or sneer was considered sufficient to blast the prospects of any
young aspirant for professional honors, even if he were only
suspected of patriotic leanings. But in the future Emancipator they
met their equal, not only in point of legal knowledge, but their
superior in moral courage and in that mental force which, like a
torrent, swept everything before it. The following anecdotes, told of
O'Connell while in active practice, illustrate his method of dealing
with the government jurists:
"Happening to be one day present in the courts in Dublin,
where a discussion arose on a motion for a new trial, a
young attorney was called upon by the opposing counsel
either to admit a statement as evidence, or hand in some
document he could legally detain. O'Connell stood up, and
told the attorney to make no admission.
"'Have you a brief in this case, Mr. O'Connell?' asked Baron
McCleland, with very peculiar emphasis.
"'I have not, my lord; but I shall have one when the case
goes down to the assizes.'
"'When I was at the bar, it was not my habit to anticipate
briefs.'
"'When you were at the bar, I never chose you for a
model; and now that you are on the bench, I shall not
 submit to your dictation.'
"Leaving the judge to digest this retort, he walked out of
the court, accompanied by the young attorney.
"At a case tried at the Cork assizes, a point arose touching
the legality of certain evidence, which O'Connell argued
was clearly admissible. He sustained his own view very
fully, reasoning with that force and clearness, and quoting
precedent with that facility, for which he was
distinguished. But it was to no purpose. The court ruled
against him, and the witnesses were shut out. The trial
was of extraordinary length, and at the close of the day
the proceedings were not ended. On the following
morning, when the case was about to be resumed, the
judge addressed O'Connell:
"'I have reconsidered my decision of yesterday,' said his
lordship, 'and my present opinion is that the evidence
tendered by you should not have been rejected. You can,
therefore, reproduce the evidence now.'
"Instead of obsequiously thanking him for his
condescension, as another would have done, O'Connell's
impatience broke out:
"'Had your lordship known as much law yesterday as you
do to-day,' said he bitterly, 'you would have spared me a
vast amount of time and trouble, and my client a
considerable amount of injury. Crier, call up the
witnesses.'"[78]
The career of the great criminal lawyer—for his civil business was
comparatively small—lasted for more than a generation, and his
success was uniform and uninterrupted, while his fees in the
aggregate, for that time, were enormous. "A single fact," says the
author just quoted, "will demonstrate the confidence which the Irish
public placed at this period in the professional abilities of O'Connell.
In the autumnal assizes of 1813, twenty-six cases were tried in the
Limerick Record Court. In every one of these O'Connell held a brief.
He was likewise retained in every criminal case tried in the same city.
His professional career was equally triumphant and extraordinary in
the autumn assizes of Ennis; while in Cork and his native province,
Kerry, it was that year, if possible, exceeded. At this golden period of
his life, his prosperity, flowing from his brilliant abilities, and his
popularity, springing from his country's gratitude, rendered his
position at the bar in the highest degree enviable."
But it was not as a jurist or an advocate that O'Connell was destined
to hand down his name to posterity covered with imperishable glory.
He only used his great professional success to further two ends. Like
a true patriot, and, à fortiori, unlike the politicians of to-day, he
desired first to establish his own independence before attempting to
obtain that of his countrymen, knowing well that poverty, associated
with ambition, is too often the means of leading men, otherwise
honest, into the commission of acts not always honorable or
meritorious. Then, also, as we have before intimated, he desired,
under the protection of the court, to instil into the hearts and souls
of the dejected Catholics a spirit of manliness and courage by his
burning appeals to courts and juries—words which, if uttered out of
court, would have entailed on him endless prosecutions and
proscription.
Strictly speaking, O'Connell cannot be considered as the leader of
the Irish Catholics till 1820, when Henry Grattan died. That brilliant
orator and inflexible patriot, though a Protestant, always enjoyed the
confidence and esteem of the persecuted masses; and whether in or
out of Parliament, in College Green or St. Stephen's, his conduct was
ever such as to command their respect and affection. O'Connell, on
the contrary, up to that date, was unable to control for any length of
time the feeble movements which, during the previous decade, had
been made by the Catholic body to obtain some redress of their
grievances. His audacious denunciation of the government, and his
contempt for the advocates of half measures, frightened away such
lukewarm Catholics as Lords Fingal, Trimleston, and French; while
his superior foresight, skill, and perhaps arrogance, frequently led
him into disputes with the less clear-headed and more violent of his
other associates. A portion of the national press, also, looked coldly
upon the burly lawyer, fearing his ambition; while many of the clergy
and bishops hesitated to yield implicit confidence to a man who was
once a freemason, and a good deal of whose leisure time, it was
said, was spent amid the convives of the capital. The "Catholic
Committee," which was mainly his creation, was established in 1808,
and easily suppressed by the government, after a useless existence
of less than three years. Its successor, the "Catholic Board," was
equally powerless, and even more given to internal dissensions; and
after its demise, in 1814, nine years elapsed, during which the
Catholics, divided, dispirited, and despairing, made no effort
whatever for their rights, unless the forwarding of an odd petition to
the English Parliament might be called so.
In fact, the generation that had witnessed the horrors of '98 and the
wholesale perfidy of the men who planned and passed the act of
union, were not fit to carry on a manly, determined agitation: fear
had been driven into their very marrow, and the badge of slavery
was worn with a calmness that closely resembled contentment. It
required a new generation to conduct such a movement with
success, and a leader to point the way to victory.
Time at last brought both. The first sign of returning life in the
people was evinced upon the occasion of a relief bill having been
introduced into the House of Commons in 1821, and passed by that
body by nineteen majority. Though of course defeated by the Lords,
its partial success, and the unexpected support it received from
some of the more distinguished members, had a salutary effect on
the public mind in Ireland, and aroused hopes that had long lain
dormant in the bosom of the Catholic party. Meetings began to be
held in different parts of the provinces, and at length a Catholic
Association was formed in Dublin, April 28, 1823. Its founder was
O'Connell, then in his prime, physically and mentally; his reputation
as an orator and a statesman beyond question; his impetuosity
mollified, if not subdued; and his judgment matured by long
experience of actual life. At first the association numbered but a few
individuals; so few, indeed, that after it had been a year in
existence, it was difficult to get the necessary quorum of members
to attend its stated meetings; but a combination of circumstances
almost providential, and certainly unexpected, occurred, which gave
the movement an irresistible impulse. The hierarchy of Ireland
unanimously endorsed the movement; the clergy not only approved
of it, but were active in extending the organization; the poet Moore
dropped the lyre, and took up the pen controversial; the illustrious
"J. K. L." thundered through the press; while the halls of Parliament
rang with the eloquence of Brougham, Mackintosh, and Sir F.
Burdett. The rent or revenue to conduct and disseminate a
knowledge of the principles of the association flowed in with
unparalleled generosity, sometimes as much as ten thousand dollars
being received weekly by the treasurer. O'Connell was the head and
front, the vivifying principle, organizer, and counsellor of this grand
uprising of an enslaved people; and his efforts were as untiring as
his advice was judicious and well timed.
At length the government, the supporters of Protestant ascendency,
became alarmed, and at the session of 1825 of the British
Parliament a bill was introduced to suppress the association. That
body immediately delegated O'Connell and R. L. Sheil to attend the
bar of the House, and offer their testimony as to the perfect legality
of the organization. They attended, but were not heard, though
admitted to seats in the body of the chamber. Still, they were ably
represented by Brougham and other influential members. Speaking
of the two delegates, the Edinburgh Review of that day well said:
"No men in circumstances so difficult and delicate ever behaved with
greater temper and moderation, or more recommended themselves
to all parties by their fairness and the conciliatory manner of their
proceedings. Of necessity ignorant of the men with whom they were
called upon to act, they could not avoid falling into some errors....
The sanguine temper which made them give ear to the hope [of
emancipation] so unaccountably held out by some persons, is to be
reckoned the chief of these mistakes; for it led to far too much
carelessness about the blow to be levelled at the association....
When the bill was prepared for putting down the association, a
debate ensued, not, perhaps, paralleled in parliamentary history for
its importance and the sustained excellence which marked the whole
compass of its duration. Four whole nights did this memorable
contest last, if contest it might be called, where all the strength lay,
except that of numbers, on one side. The effect produced by this
debate out of doors and within the Parliament itself was truly
important. The whole range of Irish policy was discussed, all the
grievances of Ireland were openly canvassed, the conduct of the
government freely arraigned, and such a death-blow given to the cry
of 'No Popery!' and the other delusions of the High-Church party that
intolerance lost more ground that night than it had ever hoped to
regain by the alarm which the association enabled it to excite. The
conduct of that body was most triumphantly defended, and it
appeared plainly that the peace of Ireland had been restored by its
exertions and maintained by its influence."
Nevertheless, the act passed and the association was dissolved, but
only to reappear in another form. The cause of emancipation had
gained many and powerful friends, not the least of whom was the
editor of the quarterly just quoted. A new Catholic Association was
formed the same year, and the work of arousing the supine masses
went bravely on. Meetings were held simultaneously in the various
centres of population, at one or more of which O'Connell was
generally present; for he seemed ubiquitous. The patriotic
newspapers teemed with speeches, communications, and extracts,
all directed to the same purpose. The country was in a state of
tremendous fermentation, to a degree that it was thought impossible
it could go further, till the Emancipator himself, by a masterly stroke
of policy, which could only have been the inspiration of genius,
resolved to get himself elected to Parliament, and "carry the war into
Africa." Ireland was now thoroughly aroused and organized; so he
resolved, if he could not convince or persuade England to do her
justice, at least to shock the latter into something like equity, or
expose her to the world as an oppressor and a hypocrite. He had
seen what beneficial effects had followed the debate on the
"Algerine Bill," and he was determined not to rest till all Europe, all
Christendom, should become familiar with the wrongs of the
Catholics. In 1828, a vacancy occurred in the representation of
Clare. O'Connell presented himself as a candidate, was against all
odds elected, and immediately proceeded to London.
Events, however, hurried on so fast that he had not time to present
himself to the Commons before the great measure for which he had
so long struggled, and for which millions had prayed for years, had
passed. On the 22d of January, 1828, the Duke of Wellington was
appointed First Lord of the Treasury. Towards the end of that year,
the Catholic Association was voluntarily dissolved, in conformity to a
preconcerted plan between the Irish Catholics and the British
Ministry, having first passed unanimously the following resolution:
"That, as the last act of this body, we do declare that we
are indebted to Daniel O'Connell, beyond all other men,
for its original creation and sustainment, and that he is
entitled, for the achievement of its freedom, to the
everlasting gratitude of Ireland."
On the 13th of April, 1829, the Emancipation Act received the royal
signature, the bill having passed the House by an overwhelming
vote, and the Lords by one hundred and four majority.
Many persons fondly thought that this law had laid the fell spirit of
Protestant bigotry for ever; but it was not so. The snake was only
scotched, not killed. It required another blow to render it completely
innoxious. O'Connell, who had been elected before the bill passed,
claimed a right to a seat in the Commons, even though a Catholic,
and in support of that claim presented himself early in the session.
The scene that ensued is thus described by an eye-witness:
"It is impossible to convey a perfect idea of the silent, the
almost breathless attention with which O'Connell was
watched and perused, when, in compliance with the
request of the speaker, he advanced to the table. So large
a number of peers had never been previously seen in that
House. Two members of the aristocracy accompanied
O'Connell, and, as a matter of form, introduced him to the
House. Their names were Ebrington and Dungannon. As
he passed the bar of the House, every eye was fixed on
him. The first oath tendered to O'Connell was that of the
supremacy, which he was seen, by the silent and watching
multitude, to wave away and refuse. They heard him say:
'I apply to take my seat under the new act. I am ready to
take the oath directed to be taken by Roman Catholic
members. I do not feel that I am bound to take these
oaths.' As he uttered these last words, he passed his hand
over the oaths which he objected to, and which were
affixed to pasteboards. 'You will be good enough,' added
O'Connell, 'to inform the speaker that I do not think I am
bound to take these oaths.' The chief clerk gathered up
the pieces of pasteboard, and hurried up with them to the
speaker, where he was seen pointing out to that
functionary the oaths which O'Connell refused to take.
The speaker then rose and said that, unless the new
member took the old oaths, he must withdraw. The
speaker alluded to those blasphemous oaths whose
injustice was so flagrant that they had been just repealed.
O'Connell, it is said, requested that the oath of
qualification, stating that he possessed six hundred a year,
should be administered to him; but this was likewise
refused. During all this time, the speaker's manner and
expression of countenance towards O'Connell, on whom
he fixed his regards, were extremely courteous, but the
declaration that he must withdraw firm and authoritative.
O'Connell looked round, as if expecting support; but this
failing, he bowed, and stood facing the speaker in perfect
silence. At this moment, Brougham was seen to rise; but
before he could address the house, the speaker exclaimed
'Order!' and again intimated to O'Connell that he must
withdraw. The latter bowed respectfully, and, without
uttering a single syllable, withdrew. After his departure,
Brougham, who was still on his legs, addressed the house
in a subdued tone, and, after some discussion, the debate
was postponed.
"May 18, 1829, was a memorable day in the history of
O'Connell's eventful life. Peel, rising in the House of
Commons on that day, moved that O'Connell should be
heard at the bar—a motion which was carried.
Accordingly, he advanced to the bar, attended by Pierce
Mahony—the whole house regarding him with the most
intense interest. He addressed the house in a long and
elaborate speech, in which he clearly demonstrated his
right. His courteous manner and temperate address
conciliated, in some degree, the good opinion of the
members. He exhibited that flexibility of mind, that power
of accommodating himself to his auditory, which formed
his most remarkable attribute. When he concluded, the
question was taken up by the lawyers, who endeavored to
explain the meaning of the new act to the very men who
had passed it. As the aristocracy had previously
determined that O'Connell should not sit, the members of
the lower house, who always do their bidding, rejected
O'Connell's claim.
"Retiring with Pierce Mahony by his side, O'Connell
endeavored to recover the seat which he had occupied
previously to his appearance at the table. But to his
surprise, he found two gentlemen in possession of it. They
were Frenchmen, but spoke English like natives. One of
these men afterwards reigned in France as Louis Philippe.
The other was his son, the Duke of Orleans.
"The following day, O'Connell appeared for the third time
at the bar of the House. He was told by the speaker that
unless he took the oath of supremacy, the House would
not permit him to take his seat.
 "'Are you willing to take the oath of supremacy?' asked the
speaker.
"'Allow me to look at it,' replied O'Connell.
"The oath was handed to O'Connell, and he looked at it in
silence for a few seconds; then raising his head, he said:
'In this oath I see one assertion as to a matter of fact,
which I know to be untrue. I see a second assertion as to
a matter of opinion, which I believe to be untrue. I
therefore refuse to take this oath.' A writ was immediately
issued for a new election."
He was again triumphantly elected for Clare, and from thenceforth
till his death occupied a seat in the House, representing at various
times different constituencies. Of his conduct as member of
Parliament, however his contemporaries might have differed in
opinion, either through partiality or prejudice, posterity will do him
the justice of according to him a wonderful versatility of talent, a
conscientious desire to forward the interests of his country, an
unswerving courage and dignity in meeting the taunts and sneers of
Tory and Whig alike against his compatriots—a process of reasoning
then much in vogue among English politicians. From Peel, Russell,
Disraeli, and Sipthorpe downwards, no man, among the seven
hundred or so that are supposed to represent the commons of Great
Britain and Ireland, ever dared to raise their crest against Catholics
or Irishmen, but, swifter than the flight of a falcon on a heron, the
Liberator pounced upon him, and, metaphorically, tore him to pieces.
In the debates on the Reform Bill, the Poor Law Act, and the tithe
question, he was generally found on the side of popular rights and
free government; and if, as has been charged, he sometimes leaned
towards the Whigs, it was because he accepted their measures as
the lesser evils.

FOOTNOTES:
[76] A Life and Times of Daniel O'Connell, with Sketches of his Contemporaries,
etc. 2 vols. Dublin: John Mullany. 1867.
[77] Life and Speeches of Daniel O'Connell, M.P. New York: J. A. McGee. 1872.
[78] Life and Times of Daniel O'Connell. (Anonymous.) Dublin. 1867.
 THE PRIEST.
"And the people were waiting for Zachary."—S. Luke i. 21.

As morning breaks, or evening shadows steal,

Duties and thoughts throng round the marble stair,
Waiting for Him who burneth incense there,
Till He shall send to bless them as they kneel.
Greater than Aaron is the mighty Priest
Who in that radiant shrine for ever dwells;
Brighter the stones that stud His glowing vest,
And ravishing the music of His bells
That tinkle as He moves. The golden air
Is filled with notes of joy that dance and run
Through every court, and make the temple one.
—The lamps are lit; 'tis past the hour of prayer,
And through the windows is their lustre thrown—
Deep in the holy place the Priest doth watch alone.

—Faber.
 GRAPES AND THORNS.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE HOUSE OF YORKE."

CHAPTER VI.
MARRIAGE BELLS.

That green and sequestered domain which Mr. Schöninger had

looked at across the water-lilies and peopled with his fancies, which,
indeed, he had visited, and was perfectly familiar with, was not so
far out of the world as it appeared. It was in a great triangle made
by three railroads, and there was a station-house a mile back from
the pond by which the tenants of the cottage held easy
communication with the two cities near. Still, the place was not very
accessible from without; for this mile of country road had been
made by simply driving over pasture and field, and through alder-
woods, till a track was visible, and then continuing to drive in the
same track. After coming through the alder-swamp, the road
became two yellow-brown lines across the greensward, and ended in
a grove that completely hid the barn built in it. Between these two
yellow-brown lines, at regular distances, were yellow-brown spots,
showing where the horse had stepped. Dobbin appeared to always
step precisely in his own tracks.
It was seldom that any one drove over this road except old Mr. Grey,
whose horse and wagon were, after their kind, quite as old as
himself. Mrs. Macon, zealously collecting useful articles for the new
convent, had driven there in her light phaeton, and spent two hours
rummaging the attics with Mrs. Grey, and talking over the relics they
found; that is, Mrs. Grey explained, and her visitor listened. She had
gone away with bundles piled up to her chin.
One afternoon late in August, Mr. Grey harnessed Dobbin to the
wagon—"tackled" Dobbin, he would have said—and started for the
railroad station. He had almost reached the alders, which seemed to
bar the way, when he drew the reins and listened. If it had been
Mrs. Grey, instead of her husband, she would have driven straight
on, for she was perfectly deaf.
These alders leaned over, and, in summer, completely hid the road,
and whatever went through there had to breast a tide of leaves. It
had never occurred to Mr. Grey to cut the twigs away, nor,
apparently, had it occurred to Dobbin to fret against them. They
jogged on uncomplainingly, never in a hurry, and lived and let live.
Mr. Grey's philosophy was that every person in the world is
appointed to do just so much, and that, as soon as his work is
accomplished, he dies. He preferred to do his part in a leisurely
manner, and live the longer.
The sound he listened to was a faint noise of wheels and hoofs, in,
or beyond, the alders. For two carriages to meet in that place would
be a predicament more perplexing than that of the two unwise men
and the two wise goats on the narrow bridge we have all read of;
because here neither could turn back, nor walk over the other, and if
one should be killed, still that would not clear the track. So the driver
waited, his mouth slightly open, to hear the better, and the lash of
his old-fashioned whip hanging motionless over his shoulder. The old
white horse dropped his nose, and went to sleep, and the creaking
and rattling wagon looked as if it had made its final stand, and
meant to go to pieces where it was.
There was just sound enough to show how still it was. Some wild
creature under a rude cage on the lawn snarled lowly to itself, there
was the swift rustle of a bird's wings through the air, and the roll of
a train of cars lessened to a bee's hum by distance. The pond was
glassy, the rails shone hot beyond it; farther still the sultry woods
heaved their billows of light and shade; and, farthest of all, over a
little scooped-out valley, a single mountain stood on the horizon.
There was, indeed, a carriage among the alders, but by no means
such an equipage as that which awaited it. It was like a fairy coach
in comparison, with a glitter of varnish and metal, and snowy-white
lining that shone like satin, and beautiful horses that pranced from
side to side as they felt the soft, brushing leaves and twigs against
their dainty coats, and pushing into their very eyes. The mice on the
box wore glossy hats, and appeared to be very much disgusted with
this trap into which they had fallen. To the birds overhead the whole
must have looked like something swimming in a sea of green leaves.
The fairies in the coach were not fully visible from any point, but a
clear voice rose presently from the submerged cushions. "There's a
sufficient road underneath, John," it said. "Drive where you see the
alder-tops lowest. There are no roots, if you keep the way. It is only
overleaning branches."
In a few minutes they emerged, and drew up beside the wagon. Its
occupant did not make the slightest reply to the bright salutation of
the two ladies. It was not his custom to salute any one. He merely
waited to see what would be said.
"O Mr. Grey!" says Annette, "if I had a pair of strong shears, I would
cut a peep-hole, at least, through that jungle. Did you get my
letter?"
He nodded, with a short "Yes," looking with calm scrutiny at the two
young women.
"Well?" continued Miss Ferrier.
"Elizabeth is out on the pond," he said; "but the old woman will blow
the horn for her. She'll show you the flowers; and you can have 'em
all. I can put them aboard of any train you settle on."
There was a moment of silence; for Mr. Grey had condensed the
whole business into a few words, and there was really no more to
say. Annette had written him to save all his flowers for her wedding,
and this was his answer.
"Are you going away?" she asked, rather needlessly.
"I'm going to meet the next up-train," he answered, and began to
tug at his reins, and chirrup at Dobbin.
They left him making great efforts to get under way again, and
drove noiselessly on.
"What a peculiarly condensed sort of man he is in his speech!"
remarked Miss Pembroke.
"Condensed!" exclaimed the other. "His talk reminds me of some one
whose head and limbs have been cut off. It takes me by surprise,
and leaves me astonished. I always feel as if something ought to be
done."
So one carriage creaked into the alders, and the other sparkled up to
the house door.
This door stood open, and within it sat an old woman, her hands
folded in her lap, her eyes looking out over the water. She had a
placid face, and looked refined. A sweet, faint smile greeted her
visitors, and her voice was sweet, and was very low, as the voices of
some deaf persons are.
"Elizabeth has gone out on the water," she said. "I will call her."
"Don't rise!" exclaimed Annette quickly, preventing her. "I'll get the
horn for you. I know where everything is here."
The old lady understood the action, though she had not heard the
words, and sank back into her seat again.
"She feels for everybody's pain," she said gratefully, speaking to
herself.
Annette tripped lightly across the sunny, silent room, and took down
from a nail beside the chimney a large ox-horn suspended there.
With simple politeness, the old lady obeyed her visitor's wish, and
did not rise even when the horn was placed in her hand. She merely
leaned forward, and, placing it to her lips, blew a loud and
prolonged blast that sounded far over water and forest.
"That will bring her," she said, and gave back the rustic instrument
for Annette to return to its place.
The two then strolled down to the water-side to wait for the lady of
the lake. They seated themselves on a mossy rock close to the
water, under the shade of the only tree left there. It was an old pine-
tree, of which the main part was decayed, but one strong branch
made a shade over them, and held firmly all its dark-green fasces in
token of a sovereignty it would not abdicate while life remained.
Beside the rock, in the warm sunshine, stood a group of Japan lilies.
"I don't like them," Annette said. "They are beautiful in their way,
but they look cruel and detestable. They seem to me like a large
pink and white woman who poisons people."
"My dear," said Miss Pembroke, as she bent her head over the
flowers, "it would be well if you could contrive to shut the battery of
those nerves of yours once in a while."
"It might be well if I could be changed into one like you," Annette
responded; but immediately corrected herself. "No! And I do not
believe that the most unfortunate and discontented person in the
world would be willing to change his individuality with another. It is
only his circumstances he would change, and be still himself, but at
his best. Perhaps that is what will keep us contented in heaven,
though we may see others far above us: each will be himself in
perfection, with all the good in possession that he is capable of
holding, and will see that he cannot be different without being some
one else."
"Perhaps," said Honora dreamily.
It may be that she felt unconsciously a little of that superiority which
the calm assume over the troubled, though the calm may be of the
pool, and the trouble of the ocean, or both a mere question of
temperament. She leaned over the lily, and examined the red clots
on its petals; how they rose higher, and strained upward toward the
centre, till by their passionate stress they drew up the milky flower
substance into a stem to support them; as though they would reach
the slender filaments that towered aloft over their heads. Two or
three tiniest red spiders were picnicking on the fragrant white
ground among these stems, and did not seem to even suspect the
presence of a large black spider, with extravagantly long legs, which
walked directly over the flower and them in two or three sextuple
strides.
"The petal they stand on must seem to them a soft and snowy-white
moss," drawled Miss Pembroke, half asleep with the heat and the
silence. "I should think the perfume of it would be too strong for
their little noses."
"Perhaps the particles of fragrance are too large for their little noses.
Or, perhaps, they have no noses," responded Miss Ferrier, gravely.
A faint, responsive murmur of assent from the other.
Annette tossed twigs into the water, and watched the dimples they
made, and which way they floated. "That is a wild fox up under that
cage," she said. "It is cruel to keep it there. I shall free it when we
go back."
"Perhaps Mr. Grey is going to stuff its skin, and may not like to lose
it," Honora answered, having finished her examination of the lily. "I
have heard that he is quite a naturalist, and has specimens of every
animal, and insect, and plant about."
Annette tossed a pebble this time with energy. "I hate naturalists,"
she remarked. "I always fancy that they have bugs in their pockets."
"Bugs in their pockets! That would be uncomfortable," was the
placid comment.
"For the bugs, yes!" said Annette; then, after a moment, added,
"Whenever it is a question of tormenting what Lord Erskine called
the 'mute creation,' I am always for the plaintiff. Who is to be
profited by knowing about bugs and beetles? It is a contemptible
science, and, I repeat, a cruel one. I never can like a woman or a
man whom I have once seen sticking pins through beetles, and
butterflies, and bats; and I would as lief have a human skull for an
ornament in a room as a stuffed skin of anything. I shall set that fox
free this instant. I observed it as I came past, and it looked like a
person going crazy. Its eyes were like fire and there was froth round
its teeth."
Miss Pembroke looked up in alarm, for Annette had risen. "Do be
careful!" she said. "His bite would kill you. Don't you remember that
Duke of Richmond who was bitten by a fox, in Canada, and died of
hydrophobia a day to two afterwards? He was playing with it, and it
snapped at his hand."
"I'm not going to play with it, but to free it," said Annette, and
walked rapidly across the green. "I've found one fault in Honora,"
she muttered. "She is sweet and good to a certain length, but her
sympathies are circumscribed."
The cage of strong withes was securely fastened to the ground with
wooden pins, and the door was tied with a slender chain. The fox
was furthermore secured by a rope which held one of his legs. He
faced about and glared at his liberator, while, from the outside, she
cut the rope with her pocket-knife. His eyes were like balls of fire,
but he did not snap at her. He did not trust her, but he had perhaps
a doubt that she meant him well.
The leg free, Annette slipped the knob of the chain, and opened the
door.
"In honor of the Creator of men and beasts, and S. Francis of Assisi,
go free now and for ever," she said.
The creature stood motionless one instant, then, with the rush and
speed of an arrow, it shot through the opening, flew across the
green, and leaped into the water, that hissed as though a red-hot
coal had been dropped into it. Annette ran, laughing and full of
excitement, back to the rock, and watched the swimmer. Only his
nose and long tail showing, he made fiercely for the shore, his whole
being concentrated in the one longing for freedom.
"If he should run into a cage on the other side, I believe his heart
would burst with the disappointment," Annette said, standing up to
watch him. "Bravo! There he is, my dear brother, the fox."
He leaped up the farther shore and over the track, and rushed
headlong into the broad, free woods.
"Won't he have a story to tell!" said Annette, seating herself; "that
is, if he ever stops running. You may depend on it, Honora, I shall be
a great heroine among the foxes; and as years go by, and the story
is passed down from generation to generation, I shall undergo a
change in the picture. My hair will grow to be golden, with stars in it,
and my eyes will be radiant, and they will put wings on me, and I
shall be an angel. That's the way the myths and marvels were made.
But how they will get over my sawing off the rope with a dull pen-
knife is more than I can tell."
"The spirit will be true, dear, if not the letter," Honora answered,
smiling. "What signifies a little inaccuracy in the material part? That
will be turned to dust before the story reaches the winged period."
Miss Ferrier had something on her mind which she shrank a little
from speaking of, but presently mentioned in that careless manner
we assume when we care more than we like to own:
"I've been wondering lately whether it would be silly in me to have
my genealogy looked up. It seems a little top-heavy to have one's
family tree all leaves and no roots, though mine is not so in reality.
My father and mother were both very poor and ignorant when I was
born; but my great-grandfather was a French gentleman. He became
poor in some way, and had no idea how to do anything for himself. I
dare say he was very weak, but he was immensely genteel. He and
his sons lived in a tumble-down old stone house somewhere near
Quebec, and ate oatmeal porridge out of painted china bowls, with
heavy spoons that had a crest on them. There they moaned away
their existence in a state of resigned surprise at their circumstances,
and of expectation that the riches that had taken to themselves
wings would fly back again. There was one desperate one in the
family, and he was my grandfather. He grew tired of shabby gentility,
and set out to work. The others cast him off; and I suppose he
wasn't very energetic, or very lucky, for he went down. He married a
wife from the working class, and they had no end of children, who
all died sooner or later, except my father. My grandfather died, too—
was glad to get himself out of sight of the sun; and my poor father—
God be merciful to him!—stumbled on through life in the same
dazed way. All he inherited was the dull astonishment of that old
Frenchman who could never be made to realize that riches would
not some day come back as they had gone. Of course"—Annette
shrugged her shoulders, and laughed slightly—"it would be
necessary to drop some of the later details. That is the way people
do. Build a bridge over the chasm into the shining part. Miss
Pembroke, what do you think of my unearthing my great-
grandfather, and setting him up in my parlors for people to admire?
Wouldn't it be more interesting than a stuffed fox? I am of his
ancestry"—her laughter died out in a flash of pride. "If they had any
fire worthy their blood, I have it. Some spark was held in abeyance,
and I have caught it. I would like to go back and search out my
kindred. Well! do you think me vulgar?"
Honora looked at her earnestly. "No, Annette; but you are
condescending too much. You are coming nearer to vulgarity than I
ever knew you to before. Lineage is something, is much, and those
who can look back on a noble and stainless ancestry are fortunate, if
they are worthy of it. I do not wonder that they are pleased to
remember their forefathers. But character is more, and does not
need ancestry. It is sufficient to itself. What, after all, is the real
advantage of belonging to a high family? It is that one is supposed
to inherit from it high qualities. If one has the qualities without the
family, it is far higher. It is the kind of character that founds great
families—that natural, newly-given loftiness. I should be sorry if you
allowed yourself to take a step in this matter, Annette."
"You can easily say all that," Annette replied, half pleased and half
bitter. "You have a past that you can look to with pride."
"With pride!" echoed the other. "I do not understand you. If you
mean Mrs. Carpenter, I certainly like to think of her; but her qualities
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