ents. They must lack a warmth which the
others possess; and they enter only on the minds of the studious,
whereas the others touch the feelings of the world at large. I had
already overcome in the breasts of many listeners the difficulties
which I now myself experienced. I would again attempt to do so with
a British audience. I would again enlarge on the meanness of the man
who could not make so small a sacrifice of his latter years for the
benefit of the rising generation. But even spoken words would come
cold to me, and would fall unnoticed on the hearts of others, when it
was felt that the doctrine advocated could not possibly affect any
living man. Thinking of all this, I was very melancholy when I was
summoned down to tea by one of the stewards who attended the
officers' mess.

"Mr President, will you take tea, coffee, cocoa, chocolate, or
preserved dates? There are muffins and crumpets, dry toast, buttered
toast, plum-cake, seed-cake, peach-fritters, apple-marmalade, and
bread and butter. There are put-up fruits of all kinds, of which you
really wouldn't know that they hadn't come this moment from graperies
and orchard-houses; but we don't put them on the table, because we
think that we can't eat quite so much dinner after them." This was
the invitation which came from a young naval lad who seemed to be
about fifteen years old.

"Hold your tongue, Percy," said an elder officer. "The fruits are not
here because Lord Alfred gorged himself so tremendously that we were
afraid his mother, the duchess, would withdraw him from the service
when she heard that he had made himself sick."

"There are curacoa, chartreuse, pepperwick, mangostino, and Russian
brandy on the side-board," suggested a third.

"I shall have a glass of madeira--just a thimbleful," said another,
who seemed to be a few years older than Lord Alfred Percy. Then
one of the stewards brought the madeira, which the young man drank
with great satisfaction. "This wine has been seven times round the
world," he said, "and the only time for drinking it is five-o'clock
tea,--that is, if you understand what good living means." I asked
simply for a cup of tea, which I found to be peculiarly good, partly
because of the cream which accompanied it. I then went up-stairs to
take a constitutional walk with Mr Crosstrees on the deck. "I saw you
sitting there for a couple of hours very thoughtful," said he, "and I
wouldn't disturb you. I hope it doesn't make you unhap