e pit's mouth and joins the search-party. He knows that the gas may
grip him by the throat, and that the heavy current of dissolution may
creep through his veins; but his mate is down there in the workings,
and he must needs save him or die in the attempt. Greater love hath no
man than this. Ah, yes--the poor collier is indeed ready to lay down his
life for his friend! The fiery soldier, William Beresford, sees a
comrade in peril; a horde of infuriated savages are rushing up, and
there is only one pony to carry the two Englishmen. Beresford calls,
"Jump up behind me!" but the friend answers, "No; save yourself! I can
die, and I won't risk your life." Then the undignified but decidedly
gallant Beresford observes, "If you don't come, I'll punch your head!"
The pony canters heavily off; one stumble would mean death, but the
dauntless fighting man brings in his friend safely, though only by the
skin of his teeth. It is absolutely necessary for the saving of our
moral health that we should turn away from the dreary flippancy of an
effete society to such scenes as those. If we regarded only the pampered
classes, then we might well think that true human fellowship had
perished, and a starless darkness--worse almost than Atheism--would fall
on the soul. But we are not all corrupt, and the strong brave heart of
our people still beats true. Young men cherish manly affection for
friends, and are not ashamed to show it; sweet girls form friendships
that hold until the maidens become matrons and till the shining locks
have turned to silver white. Wherever men are massed together the
struggle for existence grows keen, and selfishness and cynicism thrust
up their rank growths. "Pleasure" blunts the moral sense and converts
the natural man into a noxious being; but happily our people are sound
at the core, and it will be long ere cynicism and corruption are
universal. The great healthy middle-class is made up of folk who would
regard a writer of spiteful memoirs as a mere bravo; they have not
perhaps the sweetness and light which Mr. Arnold wished to bestow on
them, but at any rate they have a certain rough generosity, and they
have also a share of that self-forgetfulness which alone forms the basis
of friendship. Having that, they can do without Carlyle's learning and
Wilberforce's polish, and they can certainly do without the sour malice
of the historian and the prelate.

_July, 1887._

_DISASTERS AT SEA_.

During last yea