of this despotic system of government are now engaged in a life-and-death struggle, and all civilized nations are looking forward to the time when, for the first time in its history, Right and not Might shall prevail in Russia.  It has been said, “Happy is the nation that has no history.”  Russia knows this to her cost, for her history is being made every day, with all the horrible accompaniments of massacres, injustice, and tyranny.  Only it should be remembered that the fight must be between tyranny and liberty, and that the Russian peasant must work out his own salvation.  This may be—­nay, must be—­the work of years, but England’s sympathy will be with the workers for freedom.  English feeling on the matter was well expressed by the statesman who had the courage to say publicly, “Long live the Duma!” and every Englishman will in his heart of hearts applaud any efforts made to secure constitutional government.

FOOTNOTES: 

[Footnote 2:  Napier was a great favourite with his sailors, notwithstanding his apparent harshness to them at times.  Whenever he wanted a dash made on a strong position, he inspired them with a fury of enthusiasm by giving the word of command incisively, and then adding as an addendum, “Now, off you go, you damned rascals, and exterminate them.”  This was a form of endearment, and they knew it.]

“Dutchy” and his Chief

A handsome barque lay at the quay of a South Wales port, ready to sail, and waiting only for the flood tide.  Her name was the Pacific, and she was commanded by a person of laborious dignity.  His officers were selected to meet the tastes and ambitions of their captain, whose name was John Kickem.  I have said before it was customary in those days for crowds of people to congregate on the quays or dock sides to watch the departure of vessels.  Some came out of curiosity, but many were the relatives and friends of different members of the crew who wished to say their adieux, and to listen to the sombre singing of the chanties as the men mastheaded the topsail yards, or catted and fished the anchors.  These vessels were known as copper-ore-men.  They were usually manned with picked able seamen and three apprentices.  In this instance they were all fine specimens of English manhood.  It was no ordinary sight to witness the display of bunting as it stretched from royal truck to rail, and the grotesque love-making of the seafarers as they hugged and kissed their wives and sweethearts over and over again with amazing rapidity.  One of the favourite songs which they delighted to sing on such auspicious occasions was rendered with touching pathos—­

    “Sing good-bye to Sal, and good-bye to Sue;
      Away Rio! 
    And you that are list’ning, good-bye to you;
    For we’re bound to Rio Grande! 
      And away Rio, aye Rio! 
    Sing fare ye well, my bonny young girl,
    We’re bound to Rio Grande.”