capable of these transports of enthusiasm. I rather think that the local
patriotism which distinguished so many of our cities fifty years ago is
now, in these days of incessant intercommunication, merged in the larger
patriotism of the nation. Be this as it may, I must explain that my
dissertation on the manner in which Newcastle received the British
Association in 1863 is merely intended to account for the fact that, as a
result of that meeting, I suffered from a serious illness, brought on by
anxiety and overwork. I found that reporting, when you had to compete
with a formidable rival possessing a staff three times as large as your
own, was laborious, as well as exciting; and having a desire to attempt
literary work upon a higher level, I gave up my position as a reporter,
and adopted instead the vocation of a leader-writer.

My last bit of work as a reporter for the _Newcastle Journal_ was in
describing the accident which happened at Bradfield, near Sheffield, in
the spring of 1864. The dam of the great reservoir from which Sheffield
drew its water supply burst, and a torrent of water, many feet in depth,
and nearly a quarter of a mile in width, suddenly rushed down a narrow
valley, and flooded the lower part of Sheffield. The tragic occurrence
was subsequently described by Charles Reade in his novel, "Put Yourself
in His Place." Reade was not an eye-witness of the scene that was
presented after the flood had spent its force, but I can bear testimony
to the fact that he described it accurately. Certainly it was a wonderful
and terrible sight that was presented when I visited the place a few
hours after the bursting of the dam. The streets of Sheffield were
ploughed up to the depth of many feet; lamp-posts were twisted like wire,
and many houses either stood tottering with one of their sides clean
swept away, or lay a mere heap of ruins. Hundreds of lives were lost. A
great battle could not have dealt death more freely than did this flood.
Most of the victims were drowned in their beds, and it was a terrible