(ex)hausted. "I thought the one strong motive, the
motive which, though late aroused, has been
strong enough to save George Dallas from
himself, would be powerful now. Twice his mother
has helped, has saved, at his expense, his worst,
his involuntary enemy. There was nothing else
to work upon, but that has succeeded."

Harriet was right to a certain extent, but
not quite right. Another motive had helped the
end she desired to gain, and George named it
to his own heart as he walked down to The
Mercury office by the name of Clare Carruthers.

"You are a wonderful woman, Harry," said
Routh, when Harriet had concluded the brief
statement into which she condensed her report
of the interview between herself and George.
But, though he spoke in a tone of strong
admiration, and his face relaxed into a look of
intense relief, he did not hold her in his arms
and kiss her passionately now. "You are a
wonderful woman, and this danger is escaped."

She smiled a little bitterly, very sadly, as she
said:

"I don't know. At all events, it is once
more tided over."

             JONATHAN MARTIN.

ACCIDENT brought before me, the other day,
an extraordinary picture, which I received from
the hands of Jonathan Martin, at the time of
his confinement in York City Jail. It represents
the vision which he assured me had
induced him to set fire to the Minster, and has
recalled to my mind— what may not be
unworthy of record — some of the extraordinary
hallucinations associated with Jonathan Martin's
history. He died in Bedlam, where, as also
during his incarceration in the Castle at York,
I had opportunities of conversing with him.

The emphatic eulogium may be deemed
extravagant which a great authority has pronounced
on his brother, John Martin the painter, as "the
meekest, the most lofty, the most permanent, the
most original genius of his age," his works
exhibiting "the divine intoxication of a great soul
lapped in majestic and unearthly dreams," the
representation of "the most august and authentic
inspiration;"* yet some of the characteristics
which undoubtedly distinguished John may be
traced in a coarser, wilder, and more extravagant
shape in the thoughts and words and works
of Jonathan. He was, I believe, a tanner by
trade. He became a popular Dissenting
preacher. No Covenanter, no Cameronian,
ever pursued Episcopacy with a bitterer hatred
and more impassioned denunciations than he.
All the anathemas that Luther directed against
the Church of Rome, Jonathan inflicted on the
Church of England. Its supposed abuses
aroused his soul to very frenzy. He was willing
to encounter and even to welcome death,
.... the reward of his courageous protests against
(wh)at he deemed "the abomination of abominations."
Schemes for exhibiting God's "wrath
and vengeance" upon those he denounced were
constantly floating in his mind. He made no
secret of his antipathies, though he did not
divulge his plans of operation, fearing he might
be thwarted in his purposes. In carrying out
these plans, no hesitation or infirmity of purpose
could arrest his hand or divert his mind; and if
for a moment some scruples of conscience
presented themselves, they were solved by a sort of
logical process somewhat too common even
among those who, though not mad as Jonathan
was mad. yet see the hand of Deity leading
them in their very wanderings, and find a
warrant for their own aberrations in the reflection
that "God moves in a mysterious way," like
that in which they presume they are called
upon to move. Not a shadow of doubt troubled
Jonathan's mind as to his right to denounce, and
his mission to punish, ecclesiastical wickedness.
If ever there were a reasoning lunatic, it was he.
* England and the English, chapter ix.

All that I am about to record I received from
the lips of Jonathan Martin. His mode of
expression was vehement, his language rude and
unpolished I think it had the Northumbrian
twang he was dogmatical and peremptory, as
if he spoke with authority; indeed, if there were
anything of which he was truly convinced, it
was that he was a special instrument appointed
by God to do great works works too great to
be committed to any but the most highly
privileged exponents of the Divine will. He once
said to me in prison, "Is there any one, from
the king on his throne to the lowest of the
people, who is not thinking of and speaking of
Jonathan Martin; and would this be so, unless
Jonathan Martin had to do what can be done
by nobody but myself?" No apprehension of
consequences, no fear of punishment, ever
entered into his mind, except as an encouragement
to carry out his designs. "What can
they do," he said, "if they do their worst:
They can do nothing except to accomplish the
purpose of God." One of the earliest and most
remarkable observations of Jonathan's intellect
was the reasoning unreason (the Spanish call it
sinrazon*) with which he persuaded himself
that for the purpose of promoting church
reform he was called upon to murder a bishop.
He told me that a succession of heavenly visitors
had appeared to him at night, and communicated
a mandate from God the Father that he
should destroy some right reverend prelate.
He had no personal resentments to indulge, and
therefore his conscience freed him from the
charge of malice prepense. He had been
offended by the intrusive and imposing character
of the cathedral, as it towers over the
Lincolnshire flats, and determined that the
bishop of that see should be the lirst example
of the Divine judgment. "I was asleep," he
sad, "when an angel appeared to me— a smiling
angel— he had a bow in his hand, a quiver with
arrows on his back. He looked kindly and
* La razon de la sinrazon qui con razon si urge
Cervantes.