It was in 1865 that the Pall Mall Gazette was commenced, the name having been taken from a fictitious periodical, which was the offspring of Thackeray’s brain. It was set on foot by the unassisted energy and resources of George Smith, who had succeeded by means of his magazine and his publishing connection in getting around him a society of literary men who sufficed, as far as literary ability went, to float the paper at one under favourable auspices. His two strongest staffs probably were “Jacob Omnium,” whom I regard as the most forcible newspaper writer of my days, and Fitz-James Stephen, the most conscientious and industrious. To them the Pall Mall Gazette owed very much of its early success — and to the untiring energy and general ability of its proprietor. Among its other contributors were George Lewes, Hannay — who, I think, came up from Edinburgh for employment on its columns — Lord Houghton, Lord Strangford, Charles Merivale, Greenwood the present editor, Greg, myself, and very many others — so many others, that I have met at a Pall Mall dinner a crowd of guests who would have filled the House of Commons more respectably than I have seen it filled even on important occasions. There are many who now remember — and no doubt when this is published there will be left some to remember — the great stroke of business which was done by the revelations of a visitor to one of the casual wards in London. A person had to be selected who would undergo the misery of a night among the usual occupants of a casual ward in a London poorhouse, and who should at the same time be able to record what he felt and saw. The choice fell upon Mr. Greenwood’s brother, who certainly possessed the courage and the powers of endurance. The description, which was very well given, was, I think, chiefly written by the brother of the Casual himself. It had a great effect, which was increased by secrecy as to the person who encountered all the horrors of that night. I was more than once assured that Lard Houghton was the man. I heard it asserted also that I myself had been the hero. At last the unknown one could no longer endure that his honours should be hidden, and revealed the truth — in opposition, I fear, to promises to the contrary, and instigated by a conviction that if known he could turn his honours to account. In the meantime, however, that record of a night passed in a workhouse had done more to establish the sale of the journal than all the legal lore of Stephen, or the polemical power of Higgins, or the critical acumen of Lewes.
But, sitting at work, not far from Doctor Strong, was a very pretty young lady - whom he called Annie, and who was his daughter, I supposed - who got me out of my difficulty by kneeling down to put Doctor Strong's shoes on, and button his gaiters, which she did with great cheerfulness and quickness. When she had finished, and we were going out to the schoolroom, I was much surprised to hear Mr. Wickfield, in bidding her good morning, address her as 'Mrs. Strong'; and I was wondering could she be Doctor Strong's son's wife, or could she be Mrs. Doctor Strong, when Doctor Strong himself unconsciously enlightened me.
He made up his mouth as if to whistle, but he didn't whistle. He sat looking at the horse's ears, as if he saw something new there; and sat so, for a considerable time. By and by, he said:
I was quite relieved to find that it was only Brooks of Sheffield; for, at first, I really thought it was I.
His Parents to Know (1972), has been translated into 16 languages, while
There was somehow no question of shaking hands. The man said, "I haven't met him. I only arrived a couple of days ago. I've been out round the island most of the time. My name's Bond, James Bond. I'm from the Ministry of Defense."
Here she ceased; and snapping her reticule again, and shutting her mouth, looked as if she might be broken, but could never be bent.
Bond looked blearily across at M. "Pay your losses on this one, partner," he said. "Here we go. Er-seven clubs."
I was very much concerned for his misfortunes, and felt that any recognition short of ninepence would be mere brutality and hardness of heart. Therefore I gave him one of my three bright shillings, which he received with much humility and veneration, and spun up with his thumb, directly afterwards, to try the goodness of.
'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'you have heard me mention David Copperfield? Now don't pretend not to have a memory, because you and I know better.'
The extreme anti-slavery group of the Republican party had, as indicated, never been fully satisfied with the thoroughness of the anti-slavery policy of the administration and Mr. Chase retained until the action of the convention in June the hope that he might through the influence of this group secure the Presidency. Lincoln remarks in connection with this candidacy: "If Chase becomes President, all right. I hope we may never have a worse man." From the more conservative wing of the Republican party came suggestions as to the nomination of Grant and this plan brought from Lincoln the remark: "If Grant takes Richmond, by all means let him have the nomination." When the delegates came together, however, in Baltimore, it was evident that, representing as they did the sober and well-thought-out convictions of the people, no candidacy but that of Lincoln could secure consideration and his nomination was practically unanimous.
'One or other? Have you no choice?' asked Mr. Wickfield.
Now they were very close. He could hear their shoes scuffing the ground.
Griffon Or's eyes were suddenly suspicious. 'But you represented yourself as a Commander James Bond. And now the name is Blofeld. How does this come about?'