lowest public-houses, and died in 1806 at the early age of forty-two. The gentlemen of the Island, no doubt, extended their hospitalities to the officers at Parkhurst Barracks, who did not put off their red coats and epaulettes when they dined at the country houses. At Nunwell was an Oglander, at Swanston a Barrington, at Osborne a Blachford. Steephill was tenanted by the Hon. Wilbraham Tollemache, Gatcombe House by Edward Worsley, Northcourt by one either of the Bulls or Bennetts. Bissett was prodigal at Knighton, then 'a large and venerable mansion, with ivy up to the roof,' and many others whom it would be tedious to enumerate, for country gentlemen then abounded in what Sir John Oglander would have called this 'fortunate Island.' Jovial evenings were spent in those pleasant rural mansions, but the conversation, when the after-dinner licence took its wonted course, would sound strange in our ears. The prevailing tone was narrow and unelevated from 1795 to the peace, or rather truce, of Amiens in 1802. It became the fashion to look down on every other land as worthless. This ignorant contempt for other nations was combined with a belief that the manners of English society were perfect and alone in the world. The increased domesticity of the habits of the upper classes and the abandonment of the outward distinctions of rank had created a distaste for miscellaneous assemblies, and what has been called the exclusive spirit of English society began to spring up. Of course there were exceptions to this insular way of looking at things in general. Sir Richard Worsley at Appuldurcombe had formed his collection of pictures, statues, and antiquities, at a vast expense during a tour made expressly for this purpose in Italy and the Levant. Unhappily Lady Worsley, daughter and coheiress of Sir J. Fleming, Bart., of Brompton Park, Middlesex, to whom he was married in 1775, according to Mr. Davenport Adams (Hist. I. W. p. 215), had attained an evil notoriety in the gossiping scandal of that day. Some among the fashionable dames of that period were not afraid to defy public opinion, as is proved by the more authoritative annals of the police office. A picture of the amusements of that day will be found in the pages of the Annual Register for 1797. At the police office in Marlborough Street, Lady

Buckinghamshire, Lady E. Luttrell, and Mrs. Sturt were convicted before N. Conant and T. Robinson, Esqrs., in the penalty of £50 each for playing at the game of faro; and Henry Martindale was convicted in the sum of £200 for keeping the faro table in Lady Buckinghamshire's house.' All levity of conduct was personally distasteful to the king and queen, and the manners of these high ladies would have been discountenanced at court. But even courts, great as is their influence on social habits, cannot altogether regulate fashion. When the king heard of unseemly dissipation in the shape of balls and routs having made its way into Lambeth Palace, under the patronage of Mrs. Cornwallis, he wrote with his own hand a letter of well-merited reproof to the archbishop. The private houses of the nobility and higher gentry were secure from such royal rebukes, and any excess that prevailed in these would only be held in check by the growing decorum of public opinion. The present Bishop of Liverpool has written a series of papers, entitled 'England a hundred years ago,' in which he presents a dark and gloomy picture of the religion and morals of that period. At the close of the eighteenth century the powerful influence of the early evangelical movement had brought about a great and general improvement in the community. Among the upper classes especially great good was done by the publication in 1797 of William Wilberforce's book, Practical views of the prevailing religious system of professed Christians in the higher and middle classes of this country contrasted with real Christianity.

That book, which the great statesman, Edmund Burke, spent the last two days of his life in reading, had an extraordinary success. The Isle of Wight, where the venerable author of that remarkable book spent the closing years of 'that calm old age, on which he entered with the elasticity of youth and the simplicity of childhood,' shared in the movement occasioned by that publication, as may be seen in a letter in Albin's Magazine, pp. 627, 630. Practices also, which in former years would have been allowed to go on without any objection being raised against them, now began to be questioned. For instance, it seems to have been usual in England generally for the Volunteers to turn out and go

through their military exercise on the Sunday before or after divine service; this calls forth a 'Query,' p. 446, as to whether it is justifiable, which is answered, pp. 479, 480, with a decided negative in a letter from 'Monitor' of Newport.

Not only are the visits of men of fashion, wits, authors, politicians, and soldiers chronicled; the arrival of another illustrious stranger meets with the following notice: 'On Tuesday, November 12, came in at Bolnea an exceeding fine large turtle of near three hundredweight, which was presented to Lord Holmes, who invited the members of this Corporation, the field officers of the regiments here, and a number of gentlemen to dine with him at the Green Dragon Inn (Newport), on Thursday, where the turtle was dressed and served up in capital style, and produced a festive day to the company truly respectable, who were much gratified by this mark of his lordship's politeness and hospitality.' It appears from the September record of 'Monthly Occurrences that Captain T. Dalgarno was Mayor of Newport on the occasion of this turtle feast. Evidently there were many gay doings in that ancient borough during this month of November, for on the 14th occurs the following entry: 'Last week the colours of the West Medina Yeoman Cavalry were presented. The troops assembled in their usual parade in Quay Street, and thence marched to Parkhurst Forest. Captain Foquett having received the standard, presented it to Cornet Albin, accompanying it with a very appropriate speech. The cornet on receiving it made a suitable answer, after which they went through their evolutions in a manner reflecting the highest credit on the corps, and which gave general satisfaction to the surrounding spectators. Afterwards they dined together at the Bugle Inn, where a most elegant dinner was provided.'

A pleasant gathering must have been that old-fashioned 'Yeomanry week' in Newport. Usually it was not so late as November, since the season for it was ordinarily the height of summer. The calling out of the Yeomanry involved a muster from all the Isle of Wight. There was thus an inroad of country friends upon the townspeople. The system of billeting was in vogue, so that every bed was full.

There was much grooming of horses with their long tails and brisk neigh at stables behind old-world little taverns, considerable pipe-claying of belts and polishing of helmets. It was delightful to be roused by the réveillée of the bugle at five of the clock on a July morning. Youngsters, whom nothing else could have tempted from their beds so early, started at the summons, and envied their elders, who were in the ranks of the Yeomen. Comely blooming young faces joined the watch at the windows. The jingle of spurs and the clank of swords was soon heard as half-bashful Yeomen descended the stairs for their debut in the streets. Bluff, kind faces, with joyous smiles upon them, would appear above the stiff stocks and scarlet coats. Then the horses were led to the doors, and to the women who stayed at home the mounts were the events of the day. The country gentlemen and farmers were of course well used to the saddle; but here and there a citizen, ambitious to be among the Yeomen, would meet with unhappy enough adventures as he got upon his nag. Little boys would begin to whoop and hurrah when, like John Gilpin, the unfortunate man tried to climb into his saddle. Also some obstinate young fellow, possessed with the notion of showing off a dashing horse, would insist on riding a vicious almost dangerous animal, which would on no account endure the sight of his flaming regimentals. At length they all get away to morning drill. The drill ends at the common breakfast hour, to be succeeded by the afternoon's drill. The evening was usually a time of pleasure, consisting sometimes of parties at private houses, and now and then, as is shown in the Magazine entry, the day was closed with a more sumptuous entertainment at the Bugle Inn. Let us hope that the feasting was not intemperate, and that the gallant Yeomen enjoyed themselves in innocent fashion, being well aware that there is a point where hilarity ends and excess begins. A brilliant Yeomanry ball, attended alike by gentle and simple, wound up this successful interlude in the ordinary life of the Isle of Wight Yeomen and farmers in the year 1799 and for some years following the close of the last century. In consequence of these festivities more marriages were made up in this short interval than during any other period of the year. An old Yeomanry

sword, which may be seen suspended in some of the comfortable and picturesque farm-houses of the Isle of Wight, is probably now the only memorial of those stirring days, when the cheerful, bright old country town of Newport was given up for ten days or so, half to military exercises, half to friendly hand-shakings in the streets and to festivity.

June 19, 1886.

THOMAS ARNOLD, D.D.

I REMEMBER Once making a remark to the Dean of Westminster [Stanley], that the Isle of Wight had produced very few, if any, men of mark. You forget Thomas Arnold,' was his reply. It was true. Until the distinguished biographer

who has done so much for the fame of Dr. Arnold recalled the fact, the name of the man who regenerated Public School Education in England, and who was one of the earliest leaders in the Broad Church movement, had never been connected in my mind with the Island. There are many who share in this forgetfulness. Hence this article, which is an attempt to draw the attention of the inhabitants of the Isle of Wight to a very notable native of this Island, and to the great work he did in Church and State.

Dean Stanley's admirable Life of Arnold is so well known to most readers of English literature that it is quite unnecessary to give any sketch of Arnold's career, or of his active and crowded existence. My endeavour has been to gather up the fragments of the history of his early life at East Cowes, before they are irrecoverably lost. For these scanty details I am indebted to the reminiscences of that accomplished gentlewoman, Miss Ward of West Hill who, to her benevolent interest in all that concerns the welfare of the Isle of Wight unites the freshest memory of its leading personages, with whom she has from youth upwards been so closely and intimately associated. The Ward family became landowners