mention the fact, that the Reverend Alfred
Hoblush has exchanged his curacy for one
in the west of England. But cœlum non
animum mutant is the unalterable law. His
spirits are utterly broken, and he is but the
wreck of his former self.

NINE KINGS.

PERHAPS one of the greatest rarities to be
found in the world is an anonymous monarch
—a monarch shrouded in mystery—a monarch
of great territorial importance who is feared,
if not beloved, both by subjects and dependants
—a monarch whose exile is voluntary
from the land of his inheritance—a monarch
whose income is princely, and whose state
may be magnificent,—and yet a monarch who
is careful not to be known as such beyond the
narrow limits of his own family circle. If
one monarch of this description is a marvel
and a curiosity, how much greater is the
wonder if we hear of a little, compact colony,
of nearly a dozen royal eccentrics, united
by the powerful bond of a common origin,
and a common interest, living amongst us
in modest silence in the very centre of
our homes, and even condescending to
break our bread and drink out of our wine-cup
without making any sign of their
mysterious fellowship, and their extraordinary
importance?

Rosicrucians, secret poisoners, certain
Freemasons, author of Waverley for a time,
and Junius for eternity, have exerted this
unusual self-command, and preserved this
impenetrable incognito. Persian caliphs who
wished to wander undisturbed about the
streets of Bagdad for purposes of inspection;
Russian emperors who desired to learn the
art of ship-building in an English dockyard;
and other monarchs of a curious, vagabond,
or knowledge-seeking turn; have, in their
time, put on secrecy like a cloak, and thrown
it off again.

But these are singular and exceptional
instances that stand prominently forward
in the history of men of power. The rule
is to find those whose position gives them
importance, far from hiding the light of their
dignity under a bushel, carefully trimming it,
and holding it on high, multiplying its rays
with all the aids of science, sticking it on
their chariots like a coat of arms, displaying
it on their breastplates like an order of the
garter or the legion of honour, and decorating
the fronts of their mansions with it, as with
an escutcheon, or an illuminating star. And
if the immediate and rightful possessors of
this power have the modesty and self-denial
to conceal their overwhelming greatness, how
stands it with their relatives and dependants?
—How stands it with those peculiarly
weak, but very human individuals who have
the inexpressible felicity of being allowed to
bask in the sunshine of the magnates' favour
—of being allowed to sit at the feet of the
all-powerful Gamaliels? Who shall seal the
mouths of such necessary but troublesome
disciples, or prevent their indulging in the
reflected importance which is to them as the
breath of life?

And yet, in the face of all this, rising above
the weakness of human nature, defying alike
the babbling indiscretion of friends, relatives,
and disciples, and the prying curiosity of
a parliamentary committee, we have now
amongst us—no man can or will tell us
exactly where—a little band of kings of the
extensive although distant territories of
Hudson's Bay. Nine of these curious kings
are in existence, at this present time,
who hide their autocratic power and
privileges under the modest, commercial-looking
title of the Hudson's Bay Company.* Three
of the nine kings we have the pleasure
of knowing, and they are, in most respects,
like other human beings—the Earl of Selkirk,
the Right Honourable Edward Ellice,
and Mr. Edward Ellice, Junior, but the other
six remain in a determined and impenetrable
obscurity into which it is vain and useless to
endeavour to penetrate. It is not because
their origin is a thing of yesterday, and their
kingdom an insignificant plot of ground in a
despised portion of the earth, that they are
thus silent and retiring. They are the
veritable foot-prints of the merry monarch; the
possessors in perpetuity of Rupert's Land—a
land of between two and three millions of
square miles; they are the licensed holders of
certain Indian territories between three and
four millions of square miles, and they are
the favoured tenants of Vancouver's Island—
a country as large as Scotland—at the very
moderate rent of five shillings per annum,
and with no rates or taxes. Over all this
extensive kingdom, containing fine harbours,
mines of coal, iron, and the precious metals,
with a favourable climate, a fertile soil, and
the navigation of the Pacific, these nine kings
(three known and six anonymous) have absolute
and undivided control. They are not
checked by any annoying parliamentary
interference, they can make war or peace, impose
taxes, seize and punish offenders without
trial, keep the native races in any condition
of ignorance and serfdom that they think
proper, and use their large and fertile empire
for nothing better than breeding wild beasts
and vermin. They are lords paramount over
nearly the whole continent of British North
America, and their territory is twelve times
the extent of Canada, and one-third larger
than all Europe.

* See vol. viii., pp. 449-471.

Their origin is embodied in a charter of
incorporation dated May the second, sixteen
hundred and seventy, in the twenty-second
year of King Charles the Second. The first
monarchs of the Hudson's Bay Territory
were eighteen in number: Prince Rupert,
Christopher Duke of Albermarle, William
Earl of Craven, Henry Lord Arlington,