Part 1

INTERNATIONAL FORESTRY EXHIBITION, EDINBURGH, 1884.

In this age of International Exhibitions, which, when usefully directed, form what the newspapers pleasantly call ‘a wholesome mania,’ it is well to inquire into the causes, more or less urgent, which call these undertakings into being—the good they are expected by their promoters to effect not only to the towns or countries in which they are held, but to all the nationalities who take part in them; and the probable results of their success, if they are successful. It is of course open to objectors to deny the soundness of all these premises, and to question the logical deduction of their usefulness, in the case of all the projected Exhibitions which are brought under their notice. And when—as is almost necessarily the case—an appeal is made to the pockets of the public in the initiatory stage of the undertaking, objectors are not few in number, and not particularly partial, or even moderate, in the nature of their criticisms. Within due bounds, indeed, it is well that it should be so. Exhibitions got up mainly or entirely for the purpose of advertising any particular branch of trade, may be advantageous to that trade individually; but the end and object is not so much an harmonious and wholesome impetus to trade and manufacture generally, as a rivalry more or less rancorously conducted amongst the exhibitors.

The prospectus, classification, and other papers relating to the proposed Forestry Exhibition to be held in Edinburgh in the months of July, August, and September 1884 are now before the public; and it may be useful to inquire how the idea was suggested, and whether or not it is likely to be worked out with advantage to the community at large.

The primary cause which appears to have called forth the project has been no sudden or ephemeral one. To grasp it rightly, we must go back for at least a score of years, and carry our readers with us to the government of our Eastern Empire. There we shall find that a long course of unrestricted spoliation and waste had denuded the banks of rivers in proximity to the seaboard of all their protecting vegetation. The river-sources, far up in the inaccessible hills, had indeed been safe from the inroads of the timber merchants, and had been preserved from too rapid evaporation by the virgin forests which surrounded them. But in the low country the trees could be easily cut and floated down to the coast during the annual floods. A country deprived of its trees is doomed to drought; and India soon began to suffer from the reckless destruction of its forests. The officials of the government, while fully aware of the vast waste of capital and revenue going on under their eyes, were quite unable successfully to cope with it. They therefore delegated their duties to subordinates, who in many ways winked at, if they did not countenance the continuance of the evils which they were supposed to counteract and uproot. The absolute necessity of a higher-paid and more capable class of officials, whose duty should be confined to the conservancy and replanting of the forests, forced upon the government of India the formation of a Forest Department.

But when it was sought to construct this Department from the resources of Great Britain—the natural nursery for Anglo-Indian officials—these were found wholly inadequate; and more humiliating still, there was not even the means necessary to train efficient forest officers. It was decided by the government, and tacitly conceded by the public, that Great Britain could not supply finished cadets for the Forest Department of India. And from that day to this, young men with a smattering of botany have been packed off to the Forest seminaries of France and Germany for the peculiar education required.

It is not now our object to show how the government of India has suffered in the interval by the want of a proper system of forest training in Great Britain. Waste and spoliation went on, of course, uncontrolled. But we think that the _raison d’être_ of a Forestry Exhibition will now be tolerably apparent to at least the majority of our readers. Indeed, the wonder is that Great Britain has so long remained quiescent under the implied reproach of neglecting what is not only a useful but a profitable branch of estate management. This reproach, which had long weighed on the minds of all those who had the good of the country at heart, at length found public expression at the meetings of the principal Societies of Scotland who represent the landed interest of the country, and resolutions were passed pledging their members to the support of a Forestry Exhibition.

Meanwhile, the great success of the Fisheries Exhibition in London had induced the executive Committee there to try and achieve for other industries similar benefits to what they had conferred on the fishermen of England. And they, too, pitched upon forestry as a branch of science well worthy of encouragement. But when it was represented to them that the same idea, first mooted in Scotland, had already assumed practical shape there, they courteously gave way, and conceded to Scotland the well-deserved right of holding in her capital the first Forestry Exhibition of Great Britain.

Nearly all the foreign powers and the representatives of our colonial and Indian empire are to be found in the list of those who have joined the undertaking as members. And the following letter, which has been sent to our diplomatic representatives abroad, rightly expresses the consensus of official and public opinion on the merit of the undertaking:

(CIRCULAR-COMMERCIAL.)

FOREIGN OFFICE, _October 27, 1883._

The attention of Her Majesty’s government has been directed to a project for an International Exhibition of Forestry to be held in Edinburgh in the summer of 1884, the organisers of which are desirous of securing the co-operation therein of such foreign countries as the matter may concern. There is reason to believe that the proposed Exhibition, for which the necessary funds have been guaranteed, will be influentially and ably supported. The object is one which in the opinion of Her Majesty’s government deserves every encouragement, scientific forestry having hitherto been much neglected in this country; and I have therefore to request that you will bring the Exhibition in question to the notice of the government to which you are accredited, as being one in which their participation might be attended with advantage to both countries. I inclose for communication to the proper quarters copies of programme and other documents connected with the proposed Exhibition, which have been supplied by the Committee.

I am, with great truth, your most obedient humble servant,

_Signed_ (for Earl Granville)

EDMOND FITZMAURICE.

With this letter, we may fitly close the contemplation of the causes which have led to the idea of a Forestry Exhibition being held in Great Britain. They are, in fact, briefly summed up in the short but comprehensive dictum, which, we fear, cannot be contradicted or gainsayed, ‘scientific forestry having hitherto been much neglected in this country.’ And the inverse of this proposition leads us by no indirect steps to the consideration of the good results which may be expected to accrue from the Exhibition, if it is successfully conducted.

To the capital of Scotland, a country lying between the two great fields of the ‘lumbering’ interest of the world—the one in Northern Europe, and the other on the continent of America, the results, if only from the influx of visitors, whether these are scientifically disposed or otherwise, can hardly fail to be beneficial. But there are wider interests involved. The landed proprietor anxious to utilise his present wastes and to make up for deficient rents by profitable planting—the political economist inquiring into new sources of revenue—the botanist uncertain of the right names and uses of some of his specimens of timber or of flowers—the geologist, the sportsman, and the naturalist, will find here a common ground of instruction and amusement. For we may hope to see gathered together the forest products of the world, carefully examined and authentically named; the various descriptions of machines used in different countries for preparing timber for constructive purposes; the timber slips placed on the hills, the sluices, dams, and embankments formed on the rivers for the transporting of wood by land or by water; the mechanical appliances used for moving growing trees, and the saw-mills for cutting them into sections when felled. Here, too, will be exhibited the various textile fabrics manufactured from bark; materials for the making of paper; tanning and dyeing substances; drugs and spices; gums, resins, wood-oils and varnishes. Another section will embrace botanical specimens, fungi and lichens, forest entomology and natural history; with fossil plants and the various trees found in bogs.

The literature of the subject will be illustrated by the Reports of Forest schools, the working plans of plantations, which show the age of the various woods on an estate, and the stage of growth at which they may most profitably be thinned or felled. Remarkable or historical trees will be represented by paintings, photographs, and drawings; and there will be sketches of the usual forest operations.

Collections of forest produce, specially illustrating the sources of supply, and the methods of manufacture in different provinces, with accompanying Reports, are solicited by the Committee. And essays on all subjects touching on the value of growing trees or timber are invited to competition for prizes. Here, again, is opened a very wide field of useful inquiry for all those interested in the planting of woods in our own or foreign countries; for the cultivators of cinchona and other barks in our Crown colonies; for wood-engravers, whose supply of hard wood for the purposes of their trade is now very limited; for ship-builders, anxious to get a substitute for teak, or to obtain an increased supply of that most useful timber; and for all who use wood or forest produce in any of the many forms of manufacture in which they are applied.

We may not enter into any further categorical enumeration of the purposes and objects of the Forestry Exhibition of 1884; for, if the contemplation of the great cause which primarily led to the idea of the undertaking has brought us insensibly to the enumeration of the good that may be expected to accrue from its successful issue, it seems needless to insist that the probable results of that success will benefit the commercial interests and the scientific knowledge of the world at large. [Particulars of the Exhibition may be obtained from Mr George Cadell, secretary, 3 George IV. Bridge, Edinburgh.]

BY MEAD AND STREAM.

CHAPTER XX.—PAVED WITH GOLD.

It was not probable that Mr Hadleigh would object to his son being endowed with a fortune by a wealthy uncle, whatever might be his feelings towards the donor. He would no doubt have been ready with congratulations if the endowment had come from any other quarter. As the case stood, Philip anticipated some difficulty in reconciling him to the arrangement, unless he should succeed in making the two men forget and forgive that old feud. However, there would be time enough to consider these details after the consultation with the solicitors.

He found Mr Hawkins and Mr Jackson together in the senior partner’s room—a rare circumstance for any client to find them so, for acting separately, they might cancel or amend opinions after private conference without loss of prestige. On the present occasion Philip’s affairs had been the subject of discussion.

‘Let me offer you my best congratulations, sir,’ said Mr Hawkins, a thin, grave-looking old gentleman in speckless black broadcloth, and with gold-mounted glasses on his prominent nose.

‘Accept the same from me, Mr Hadleigh,’ interjected Jackson. He was a sharp gentleman of middle age, with small mutton-chop whiskers, and dressed in the latest City fashion—for there is a City fashion, designed apparently to combine the elegance of the west end with a suggestion of superhuman ‘cuteness.’

‘Thank you, both. I must be a lucky fellow when you say so.’

‘In the course of my experience,’ said Mr Hawkins solemnly, ‘I have never known a young man start in life under such favourable auspices. We wish you success, and we believe you will find it difficult to fail.’

‘It is wonderful what a fool can do,’ said Philip, laughing; ‘but I will try not to fail. At present, I am a little in the dark as to the terms of the proposed arrangement, and Mr Shield referred me to you for the particulars.’

‘The particulars are simple,’ the lawyer proceeded slowly, as he turned over a number of papers on which various notes were written. ‘In the first place, I have great—very great—pleasure in informing you that a sum of fifty thousand pounds has been paid into your credit at the Universal Bank; and a second sum of the same amount will be at your command whenever you may have occasion for it, provided Mr Shield is satisfied with the manner in which you have disposed of the first sum.’

‘This is scarcely the kind of arrangement I expected. I had a notion that it was to be a partnership,’ said Philip.

‘The arrangement is so simple and so complete, Mr Hadleigh, that you will have no difficulty in comprehending every detail presently.’ Mr Hawkins went on leisurely, as if he enjoyed prolonging the agreeable statement he had to make. Mr Jackson nodded his head at the close of every sentence, as if thereby indorsing it. ‘We have often read in story-books of rich uncles coming home to make all their friends comfortable. You have the exceptional experience of finding a rich uncle in reality—one who is resolved to pave your way with gold, as I may express it.’

‘But what does he want me to do with all this money?’ asked Philip, desirous of bringing the loquacious old gentleman to the point.

Mr Hawkins was not to be hurried. Like a connoisseur with a glass of rare wine, he was bent on making the most of it. Every symptom of eagerness on Philip’s part added zest to the palate; and he was graciously tolerant of his client’s impatience.

‘As regards the partnership, that will come afterwards. In the meantime, he desires you to consider this handsome fortune as absolutely at your own disposal. He imposes no conditions. You are free to give up all thought of profession or trade, and to live as you please on the income of this capital, or on the capital itself, if you are so inclined.’

‘That, of course, is nonsense. He must wish me to do something.’

‘Certainly; and although he imposes no conditions, he has expressed two wishes.’

‘And what are they?’

Mr Hawkins polished his eye-glasses and consulted his notes. Mr Jackson nodded his head pleasantly, as if he were saying: ‘Now it is coming, you lucky dog.’

‘The first is,’ Mr Hawkins went on, ‘that you should enter into commerce: the second is, that you should take time to consider well in what direction you will employ your capital and energy—time to travel, if you are inclined, before deciding. Then, when you have decided, he will find whatever capital you may require beyond that already at your command. But there is to be no deed of partnership. You are to be prepared to take the full responsibility of your own transactions.’

Philip was silent. It required time for the mind to grasp the full meaning of this proposal. That it was a magnificent one, he felt; indeed it was the magnificence of it which perplexed him. He was to be hoisted at once into a prominent position in the commercial world, although he was without experience of business, and was not conscious of possessing any special aptitude for it. His father knew him better than his uncle did, and had declared him unfitted for commercial pursuits.

He mentioned these objections to his uncle’s plan; but the lawyers only smiled at the idea of a man even thinking of such disqualifications as obstacles to his own immediate gain.

‘I have known many men who were slow enough to give away a fortune,’ said Mr Hawkins, emphasising his words by rubbing his bald head with the eye-glasses, as he gazed almost reproachfully at this singular young man; ‘but I never before met a person who was slow to accept one.’

‘I daresay; but this position is a little curious. You may set aside at once the project that I should take the money and do nothing for it. Mr Shield’s wish is sufficient to bind me to go into trade of some sort; but in doing so, I may make ducks and drakes of his gift in no time.’

‘My dear sir, money always makes money if it be guided with even moderate prudence; and I give you credit for possessing that quality to a sufficient degree.’

Philip bowed in acknowledgment of this good opinion.

‘Besides, Mr Shield does not mean that you should be set adrift without rudder or compass. He will be always ready to advise; and I need not say that you may always command our best attention. Also he would expect you to appoint some competent person as your manager, who would be capable of directing the course of your affairs.’

‘Ah—Wrentham would be the man, if we could only make it worth his while to join me.’

‘We have no doubt, from what we know of Mr Wrentham, that he would consider it much to his advantage to undertake any charge with which you may be disposed to intrust him.’

‘I must have time to think over it all,’ said Philip, whilst a thousand visions were dancing before his mind’s eye, like the dazzling spray of sparks struck from iron at white-heat by a blacksmith’s sledge-hammer.

‘Certainly, certainly. It is especially mentioned that you are to take whatever time you may require to settle how you shall proceed. Mr Shield is anxious to see you begin operations, but he has no desire to hurry you.’

‘I will write to him as soon as I see my way. I suppose this is all you have to tell me?’

‘There is only one other trifling matter. I hope we have made you clearly understand that Mr Shield does not insist upon anything. He merely expresses a wish.’

‘And I have told you how I regard his wishes—as fixed conditions of my being thought worthy of all this generosity.’

‘He is emphatic in desiring that you shall not regard them as conditions, but as mere indications of what he would be most pleased to see you do.’

‘Well, what is the remaining wish or condition? It is all the same what we call it.’

‘It is, that in the event of your entering into business, he would like you to remember how much more freely and independently a man may act when unshackled by domestic ties. In short, he would like you to remain a bachelor for the first two or three years, until you have firmly established your position.’

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Philip in a soft crescendo scale; whilst Mr Jackson nodded and grinned, as if there were a good joke somewhere. ‘I cannot promise that.’

‘No promise is required; and Mr Shield would not consider it binding if you made it.’

‘I am not likely to make it,’ was the reply, with a hesitating laugh; ‘but this may seriously affect my decision.’

Mr Hawkins was unable to conceive any possible decision except one, and was again gravely effusive in his congratulations. Mr Jackson, shaking hands with Philip at the door, expressed his unqualified approval of the whole scheme in one short phrase: ‘You _are_ a lucky dog.’

Philip was not sure whether he was a lucky dog or not. His uncle’s proposal was liberal and generous beyond all expectation; but there was something—he did not know what—about it that was perplexing. Probably, it was the fact that for the first time he was brought face to face with the necessity of deciding promptly in what course his whole future was to be directed. Hitherto there had been no hurry; and at the time when thoughts of Madge had brought him to serious consideration of how he could most rapidly win a position for her, the invitation from his uncle had arrived. The final decision was again postponed, as it was his duty to obey that call for his mother’s sake.

Now his future had been decided for him; and the prospect was in every way a tempting one. There would have been no hesitation on his part, but for the strange position which his father and Mr Shield occupied towards each other. The question Philip had first to settle with himself was, how he should act in order to bring about a reconciliation between them. He knew that if he could accomplish this, he would fulfil his mother’s dearest wish—an object nearer his heart than even the possession of a fortune.

As for business, although he had no special inclination for it, he did not dislike it. He had heard and read of millionaires—their struggles and victories, as desperate and as glorious as any recorded in the history of battlefields. Life and honour were as much at stake in doing the daily work of the world as in shooting down the foes of the nation or the foes of the nation’s policy. Our merchants, our inventors, our educators, our labourers, were the true soldiers, and their victories were the enduring ones. There was the great enemy of mankind, Poverty, with his attendant demons Ignorance and Laziness, still to conquer; and there were legions of starving people crying out to be led against him. Vast territories lay untilled, vast resources of earth, air, and water still unused, to be called forth to content and enrich the hungry and poor. What noble work there was for men to do who had sufficient capital at command!

He had never before speculated upon such a career. Now that it was presented to him, his imagination was stirred by thoughts of the great deeds that were yet to be done to bless humanity and ennoble life.

(_To be continued._)

SUAKIM.

The intense interest with which all eyes have been turned upon the Soudan—that is, Country of the Blacks, or Negroland—gives a special value now to any information about that region, particularly if it refer to such towns as Khartoum, or that named at the head of this paper. The former place has been pretty fully described of late in the newspapers, while little has been told us of the latter beyond actual war-news. This is the greater pity, as Suakim possesses a good deal of historical interest, and Khartoum does not.

Suakim—the word is spelt in a variety of ways—is not only one of the most important towns of Nubia, but the chief port of the Soudan and of the whole western coast of the Red Sea. It came into the possession of Egypt in 1865 by cession or purchase from Turkey—along with Massowah and one or two other towns and the districts around them—and now appears to be regarded by the British government and every one else as an integral part of the Egyptian dominions. Similar subjection of Suakim to Egypt, as we shall presently see, existed in very remote times. The town proper lies on a small island about eight miles and three-quarters in diameter—almost as long as the little bay in which it is placed, a mere tongue of water separating it from the mainland.