THE MODEBN THAMES. 125 



up the narrow passage by the eyot; stopping the 

 traffic at the lock ; out at last into the tidal stream, 

 there to begin a fresh life of annoyance, and finally 

 to endanger the good speed of many a fine three- 

 master and ocean steamer off the docks. The Thames 

 barge knows no law. No judge, no jury, no Palace 

 of Justice, no Chancery, no appeal to the Lords has 

 any terror for the monster barge. It drifts by the 

 Houses of Parliament with no more respect than it 

 shows for the lodge of the lock-keeper. It drifts by 

 Koyal Windsor, and cares not. The guns of the 

 Tower are of no account. There is nothing in the 

 world so utterly free'as this monster. 



Often have I asked myself if the bargee at the 

 tiller, now sucking at his short black pipe, now 

 munching onions and cheese (the little onions he 

 pitches on the lawns by the river side, there to take 

 root and flourish) — if this amiable man has any 

 notion of his own incomparable position. Just some 

 inkling of the irony of the situation must, I fancy, 

 now and then dimly dawn within his grimy brow. 

 To see all these gentlemen shoved on one side ; to be 

 lying in the way of a splendid Australian clipper; 

 to stop an incoming vessel, impatient for her berth ; 

 to swing, and sway, and roll as he goes; to bump 

 the big ships, and force the little ones aside ; to slip, 

 and slide, and glide with the tide, ripples dancing 

 under the prow, and be master of the world-famed 

 Thames from source to mouth, is not this a joy for 

 ever ? Liberty is beyond price ; now no one is really 

 free unless he can crush his- neighbour's interest 

 underfoot, like a horse-roller going over a daisy. 



